The Minnesota Candidate (30 page)

Doris stared at the humongous extension ladder
and shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said, “maybe we should have
let him help? This thing looks pretty heavy.”

“We’ll just have to break it up into
sections.”

“Do you know how to do that?”

“Well, no, but how hard could it be? It’s just a
stinkin’ ladder, for crying out loud.”

For the next fifteen minutes, the women worked
at trying to disassemble the big orange ladder. Finally, Marie gave
it a kick and she crossed her arms. Doris stood up and wiped the
sweat from her forehead. “We’re going to have to drag it behind the
gate and into the woods. Shari could be back any minute.”

“I was just about to say the same thing,” said
Marie.

They both stood at the front of the ladder and
they gave it a test life. “This isn’t too bad,” said Doris. “I
think we can handle it.”

“Picacello strong,” grunted Marie.

“Picacello strong,” agreed Doris.

They began dragging the heavy ladder around the
gate. The back end slid across the grass and they had no problem
until they hit the woods. There, the end of the ladder sunk into
the pine needles and got hung up in the undergrowth. The women
strained at the weight, working together like a team of oxen, they
huffed and pulled the ladder deeper into the woods. Suddenly, Marie
pointed back to the gate. “I think Shari is here,” she whispered.
“Hit the deck!”

They dropped the ladder and flattened themselves
in the pine needles. Over Marie’s heavy breathing, Doris could hear
the sound of Shari’s fancy car as it waited for the gate. She
cursed their luck and hoped that Shari wouldn’t notice them. A long
moment passed, but then the car roared past them and soon. “That
was close,” she said, getting to her knees.

Marie climbed to her feet and began brushing the
pine needles from her clothes. She looked worse than she had up at
the gate. Her face was white as a sheet and she staggered around
like she was drunk. “I don’t feel so good,” she said, falling down
and sitting on her rump. “I think I might be having heat
stroke.”

Doris looked at her. “But you’re not even
sweating,” she said.

“You fool,” growled Marie. “That’s one of the
symptoms!”

Doris vaguely remembered hearing something like
that and she nodded her head. She then plopped down next to Marie.
“Give me a minute,” she gasped. “Then I’ll walk up to the house and
get you a glass of water. I’m just pooped out.”

“Ten minutes ago, you were ready to run a
marathon. For crying out loud, get off your fat ass and bring me a
bucket of water. I’m dying over here.”

Reluctantly, Doris hauled herself back to her
feet. She then began the long walk back to the house.

Chapter 23

Tom looked from Shari to Sam, hoping against
hope that Sam would come up with a whopper story to tell his wife.
One look at Sam’s face told him everything he needed to know. Tom
sat on the bed next to Sam and like the Angel of Death, Shari
hovered over them.

“You had better calm down,” said Sam. “You’re
going to blow a gasket. I’ve seen it happen and it ain’t a pretty
sight.”

“I’ll calm down… when you tell me what it is
you’re not telling me.”

“No,” said Tom, “I’m guessing you won’t.”

“Listen mister, I already warned you about
telling the truth. You can either give it to me, or you can walk
out that door. I won’t have secrets in this house. That’s the way
it is.”

“We ain’t tellin’ you nuttin’ until you sit down
and take a deep breath,” said Sam. “And then you’re gonna hear
everything that Tommy told me. And I’ll tell ya another thing,
Shari. You’re going to think long and hard about what we’re sayin’.
You better not freak out and fly off the handle. Think you can do
that?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You know damn well what it means.”

Shari sat down in the chair. “I’m sorry, Sam. I
promise not to fly off the handle and jump to conclusions. I’ve
learned my lesson and I won’t do it, not ever again. There, you
see? I’ve calmed down and I’m ready to hear what all of this is
about.”

Tom stared at his wife and wondered where he
should start. He reached back and grabbed one of the journals and
he handed it to Shari. “Take a look at this,” he said.

Shari took the journal and suddenly her hands
began to tremble. “I’ve seen this before,” she whispered. “This
belonged to Norma. Where did you get it?”

“I got it from my mom’s neighbor, Mrs.
Kindersley. Norma was her sister.”

Tears filled Shari’s eyes as she gingerly began
leafing through the pages. “She had the best penmanship,” she
whispered. “I’d recognize it anywhere.”

“Tell us about what you’re old man did for a
living,” said Sam.

“He worked in semiconductors. What are you
getting at?”

“I don’t know anything about no semiconductors.
What do those things do?”

Shari rubbed her eyes and continued thumbing
through Norma’s journal. “They’re the little circuits that make
computers work. Mom and Dad, and Norma, were working together to
design microchips for medical use. They made a lot of money doing
that.”

“Yeah, I can see that. What kind of medical
use?”

“Oh, stuff like monitoring kidneys and liver,
your pancreas, even your heart. Instead of doing another invasive
surgery, the idea was to plant a chip that would alert the doctor
to a potential problem. My parents were very good at what they
did.”

“That’s why they worked in Fort Knox, over
there?” asked Sam, pointing to the door.

“That’s right. Some people would have paid a lot
of money to see their laboratory. I imagine they would still love
to get in there. That’s why I keep it locked up.”

“So, you think Tom is a spy and that’s why you
don’t want him to go in there, huh?”

“What kind of a question is that? I never said
such a thing.”

Tom reached out and took Shari by the hand.
“Then… why won’t you take me in there?”

“I already explained that to you. The memories
are just too painful for me. I don’t even go in there. Nobody goes
in there.”

Sam rolled his eyes and stared at Shari. “So,
what you’re tellin’ him is that that house is a secret, ain’t that
right?”

“Don’t go putting words into my mouth.”

“Look, you can call it anything you like, but in
the end it’s still a secret. Why don’t you get off that high horse
of yours and get down on the ground with us peasants. Maybe you
don’t think Tommy is good enough to step into a joint like that,
eh?”

“I never said that. Tom, are you going to let
him talk to me that way?”

Tom sat back on the bed. “Sam, that’s enough.
You made your point.”

“No, I don’t think I have.”

“Why is it so important for you to go inside
that place?” asked Shari, testily. “What is it that you hope to
find?”

Tom reached over and tapped the journal. “The
answer to that is in these journals.”

“That’s right,” agreed Sam. “Your old man built
somethin’ and it’s still hidden inside that house. We’ve got to
find it; the world is depending on us to find it.”

“What did he build?”

“A ray gun,” said Sam, before Tom could stop
him.

Shari put her hand to her mouth and she began to
laugh. “You two are putting me on, right? Is this some kind of
payback for me accusing you of taking me gun? I get it. You guys
are real funny.”

Sam shook his head. “This ain’t no joke,” he
said. Then he got up and walked out of the room, nearly colliding
with Doris, who stood right outside the door. “What the hell are
you doin’?” he asked.

“I came up here to ask Tom if he would buy me
some cigarettes, not that it’s any of your beeswax.”

“Don’t give me that crap. You had your ear
pressed against the door.”

“I did not.”

“Whatever, I’m goin’ home. My crazy tank is
full.”

“Who are you calling crazy?” asked Shari.

Sam just shook his head and continued walking
down the stairs. He walked out the patio door and over to his
truck. Sam climbed inside and angrily, he started up the engine. He
was almost back to the gate when he spotted Marie. She was crawling
along in the ditch. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he hissed,
slapping the transmission into park.

Doris and Shari helped Marie into a tub of cool
water in the master bath. It was the best they could do for her,
seeing how she refused to seek medical attention. The cool water
revived Marie’s hot temper and she soon returned to her grouchy old
self. By this time, Sam was already home. Tom felt bad for him; Sam
had wrenched his back helping Marie out of the ditch. “It was like
wrestling a dead cow,” he had said.

Tom and Shari sat in the living room as Doris
and Marie slept. Shari, as promised, was reading the journals. Tom
was still smarting from what his mother and Marie had said about
him, when he had stumbled into them behind the big house. Finally,
he could take it no more. “What do you see in me?” he asked.

Shari looked up and gave him a confused look.
“What do you mean? I see the man I married.”

“I mean… I’m no George Clooney. My ma and Marie
made a point of telling me that, this afternoon. They said that now
that you’re over the Bell palsy, you could have any man you want.
You’re a beautiful woman and you deserve better than a schlep like
me.”

“Stop it.”

“I can’t stop it. I need to know why you married
me.”

“I married you because I love you, silly. I fell
in love with you the second we met. You know that, so don’t go
getting all weird on me. Have you read these journals?”

“I kind of browsed them.”

“Oh my God, Tom… I can’t believe what I’m
reading. Sam was right… Dad built some kind of ray gun that
neutralizes microchips. She even marked the spot where she thought
it was hidden. This is just insane.”

“Are you still mad at me?”

“I was never mad at you, baby. I was just
disappointed.”

“Does that mean we can go over there and find
that ray gun?”

“I didn’t say that. Let’s just say that I’m
considering it. Do you really think that the President has been
chipped?”

“Not just the President, but a bunch of other
people, too. If you think about it, it’s the only thing that
explains why everyone seemed to go crazy at the same time. People
just don’t stand up in droves and renounce their religion.”

“No, they don’t, do they?”

Tom shook his head. “We can’t say for sure what
happened to them. They could have been hypnotized, that’s always a
possibility.”

“Or maybe they’re just nuts.”

“We are talking about politicians, so that’s
also possible. Still, I would think the safest way to pull
something like this off, would be to use your father’s
technology.”

“My mom and dad would have never allowed their
research to be perverted like that. They were trying to make this a
better world.”

“And they were killed for it.”

“Their plane crashed.”

“Oh, and how convenient was that? Norma died
only a few days before they did. What were the odds of that
happening? Can’t you see, Shari? They were all killed for knowing
too much. The CIA does that sort of thing.”

Shari covered her mouth and turned away. “I
can’t believe that.”

“You have to believe that. There is no other
explanation. Shari, have you ever thought that you might have been
chipped? Think about it. Think about this obsession you have with
keeping everyone out of your parent’s house. That isn’t normal.
Yeah, it might have been too painful to go back in there for a year
or two, but it’s been over five years. You should be strong enough
by now to go in there.”

Like a frightened deer, Shari sprang from her
chair. Clutching one of the journals, she ran out of the room and
up the stairs.

Tom thought about following her, but he thought
if he did he might backpedal. Five years was a long time. Enough
was enough. Tom turned on the cable news and watched a ten minute
segment on what the government was doing to get the trucks back on
the road. The price of diesel was nearly a dollar a gallon cheaper
than it had been before the crisis, which was welcome news to the
truckers that were interviewed. Minnesota’s Democratic U.S.
Senator, Merlin Levitz, Shari’s neighbor, had successfully
filibustered against passage of the Sharia Law Bill. Levitz
conceded that the fight was long from over, but admitted that he
thoroughly enjoyed the twelve hours he spent talking about his
family vacation to Israel. “There’s nothing like a captive
audience,” he said with a laugh.

On the flipside of that coin, seven legislators
had renounced their Christian faith since Friday afternoon, each
converting to Islam. And that was all that was said on the subject,
which Tom thought was odd. The news people were treating the story
as if it barely merited a mention. Worse, there was no mention of
last night’s uprising by Islamic militants. That story seemed to
have gone away. It was replaced by widespread reports of hate
crimes being perpetrated against the Muslim people by skinheads and
several groups of white supremacists. The FBI was said to be
involved in the investigation. There was also some talk that
martial law would be rescinded the following day.

On the financial front, most experts were
speculating that the market would bounce back on Monday. Tom was so
happy to hear this that he nearly walked upstairs to tell Shari. He
decided to have a sandwich, instead. He ate in the kitchen and
returned to the living room and flipped through the news channels.
By all accounts, the worst of the financial storm had passed. By
nine O’clock, Tom was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. He
shut off the TV and climbed the stairs. When he opened the bedroom
door, he found that the lights were already off. Tom undressed in
the twilight and crawled into bed. He then quickly fell asleep.