Chapter 2

I had no idea Gen had wandered this far. The Eighty was a really good place to get lost. Sure the understory litter was gone but sooner or later the forest gets in the way of the trees.

There are no pines in the Eighty ... it’s acres and acres of walnut, maple, oak, birch, hickory, ash, cherry, basswood, elm and ironwood.

Cottonwood, redbud, dogwood and aspen are western or southern trees and invasive species. They don’t grow in Michigan ... ask anybody...”Those trees don’t grow in the north.”

They grow on the island. It’s the mediation of climate effect set in the process of moving water. Cold as billyblueblazes ... but not as cold as inland.

All the hardwood trees were planted, some just because and some as memorials to the dead. Many were planted to commemorate the sixty thousand sailors sunk, wrecked and drowned between 1679 and the present.

There used to be mighty chestnuts but they started dying in the 1940’s ... extinct now. Now the elms are sick ... who knows ... they might die out.

The Eighty is four hundred years old. Not all of it ... but that’s its base.

“How did you find this ... and why?”

“I couldn’t find any machine-shops in the hangars or auxiliary buildings.” She said, “I wondered why ... when we toured Ford the noise was immense ... so I thought, maybe the officers wives didn’t like the noise.”

“So?”

We said it together, “If momma ain’t happy ... ain’t nobody happy.”

A shared chuckle.

Gen said, “Since the uppity Captains and Admirals wives houses are on the outskirts of the Station...”

“What makes you say that?”

“Enlisted are next to the hangars ... petty officers are ringed behind the barracks ... Ensigns live in what are called townhouses ... they are behind the Chiefs ... the farther away homes are from the runways the higher rank the officers.”

“And?”

“The machine shops, bomb storage buildings and other noisy or dangerous equipment are as far away as the base will allow.”

“This?”

“Overgrown green painted concrete roadway going nowhere. Look up.”

I did ... the trees formed a arching tunnel of overhanging branches. The green painted road filled in the empty spaces.

Nowhere was a low-lying building with a forest on top, and a high and wide berm surround with a two row barbed wire fence on top.

“Well ... come on.”

I parked, dismounted and walked with her to what had to be an “Authorized Personnel Only” door.

That’s what the signs ringing the red painted metal door said ... and

KEEP OUT
The President of The United States Of America has authorized measures of Extreme Prejudice against Trespassers

And other sundry signs. Beware of Guard Dogs and like that.

I pulled up sharply, grabbed her by the hand and pulled back.

“Daddy ... I found this when I was 8 ... I’ve been all over it.”

“Two years?”

She nodded.

“Why?”

“Didn’t I tell you then?”

My turn to nod.

“Would you have let me?”

“Erm.”

“That’s why.”

“Ah.”

I gave it a think.

“The summer of the big fight?”

“Yup ... got it in one. You were awful to me.”

“I was trying to protect you.”

“Interfering ... pestilent ... monster.”

Who? me?

She opened the door ... walked through and switched on the lights.”

The light switch was a two handed heavily insulated six pole knife switch ... probably built immediately after the discovery of lightning ... lighting. Old ... real Old. Somewhere ... either far away or underground ... a generator ... huge generator ... wound up ... one could hear it in the air and feel it in ones feet. The feeling smoothed out and overhead shafts started turning. A belt driven machine shop ... pre war.

Wowie Zowie!

Next to the door were a couple of little cars ... open wheel little cars ... single seat open wheel little cars ... single seat open wheel little cars with Honda motorcycle motors and wheels.

Cute

They looked like 1920s hillclimb cars or board track racers ... or I snapped my fingers ... pre-war grand prix racecars.

“Well ... don’t just stand there ... pick one and I’ll show you around.”