or politics.
The conversational patter was nice and the smells were reminiscent of anyone’s kitchen. It made him feel more at home than he’d felt in years. He sensed there was something very special, and beyond his reach, about the place. It was a strange and unwelcomed perception. It made him think of his folks and about his younger brother, Teddy, whose name he shared. His thoughts were interrupted by Julie, “When are we gonna look at the target movers Mr. Walker?” She flashed her toothiest grin for her mother and anyone else who might take it seriously.
The walker hesitated for a moment to let Altrice speak first. When she raised her eye brows shrugged her shoulders and otherwise deferred to him, he asked if they could be excused and told Altrise how much he had enjoyed her conversation and hospitality. He rose and asked if she would like to accompany them to look at the target range. Altrice declined, as he thought she might so he and Julie left the dining hall, which was closely guarded by an old hound, and started for the range. When he saw them disappearing, he changed his mind about what needed guarding and tagged along.
The range was on the fringe of the compound, if it could be called a compound. It was mostly just a loosely confederated group of separately built cottages. In fact several cottages were lined up much as a summer camp might have cottages lined up on a natural barrier like a stream or lake. However, there was nothing here but forest. There wasn’t even a small stream cutting through the property. Obviously, a well had been dug; maybe several.
He asked Julie if they could take a walk around the perimeter. She looked at him skeptically, but they took a walk anyway. She wasn’t even sure of the boundaries. At last they found themselves looking at the small device that was responsible for moving the targets laterally behind a protective dirt berm and in front of a series of nine target positions that were manually operated to move targets up and down to paste bullet holes and keep the action moving. There was a weather proof plug at each target station to plug in ear phones to listen to directions and requests from the firing line. There was a flag pole to raise the red “Range Hot” flag when firing was taking place, and there was a small enclosure housing the pulleys and other controls for four laterally moving targets. The door was open so they went in to investigate the “machinery guts” of the operation.
There was no light switch although there was an electrical service to the enclosure to power the motor and switches for proper operation. He thought it strange that no one would light the enclosure. The first things he requested were some electrical components and wire to install a one hundred watt bulb in the place. Julie thought she knew where to find the parts so she left to find them while he inspected the mechanism as best he could in the dim light. He propped the door open as wide as he could and with the extra light, and supervision by the hound, could see there had been little repair over the decades since the system was installed. The control cables were loose and probably jumped the track often.
The four target receivers were heavy, and one metal bracket had been bent so that targets couldn’t be inserted properly. When the rig was running right it would make a great moving target system. Two of the four targets were positioned side by side and when moving would move behind the other two so there were two targets moving west at the same time two targets were moving east. They would pass in the middle and continue until a trip switch caused them to move in the opposite direction and repeat the sequence. Four marksmen would concentrate on one target each or if there were just one or two firers they could alternate.
He finally realized why no light had been installed initially. There had been no need, since the place was originally barren of trees due to the excavation. As the timber grew, it blocked the light in the depression of the berm. He adjusted his age estimate for the contraption to forty years. He lost track of time during his estimate of the situation, for soon he was greeted by Julie; weighted down by all sorts of electrical paraphernalia; some seemed to have no purpose. However, he found everything he did need, except tools. This time he and Julie walked together to retrieve what he needed. They talked, or at least Julie talked. He and the hound mostly followed and listened.
She was a bit confused, he thought. At eighteen and ready for college, she really didn’t want to leave the confines of her home town. She had no steady boyfriend. She admired her brother for his intelligence and for his business acumen. She didn’t know how much of Duncan’s personality type she’d inherited from her parents. She said Duncan had always been overtly business oriented. He was always finding money where other people didn’t look. To his embarrassment, when he was younger their dad found him under the bleachers at the high school looking for coins. He had found lots. He inspected the bleachers after every game and always found over ten dollars. She also said she thought he saved every cent he ever made. She estimated his savings alone at well over half a million dollars. She asked that the walker please not say anything to anyone about her brother. Of course he agreed; one of the few times he got a chance to say anything.
Apparently Duncan and she enjoyed many of the same genes. Both were alpha oriented, intelligent and logical in their thinking. Both were ardent patriots as well. The walker found himself wanting to meet Representative Parker’s only son. Julie confirmed Duncan would be “home” for the weekend on Saturday evening; one day later than planned.
Meanwhile they’d located the appropriate tools, lubricants, rags and electrical components to make light and make targets move. He enjoyed the company Julie provided and enjoyed the fact that he could overlook her idiosyncrasies and age to see a promising scientist. She could almost predict his moves by the time they got a light installed and tested the funky old motor with its starter coil and plugged up vents. When they tested the motor without its load of pulleys, it squeaked at first them hummed as the new oil reached its tired bearings.
Soon the pulleys were tightened, wiped clean and lubricated with the admonition to watch for errant cable strands which could pierce fingers and hands. Julie did an admirable job with lubrication while he worked on the repositioning of the pulleys to properly align with the entire cable lengths. They hadn’t been aligned properly, so that periodically they would jump off the pulleys if the target holders jumped or slipped on their tracks. Each of the four bearings on the four target holders were like little rail car wheels and had to be lubricated before they could be trusted not to jump or stick at an inopportune time.
After all was lubed, tightened and cleaned, Julie had the honor of turning the switch on. Everything worked fine until it was time to reverse direction. The reverse switch didn’t work. The toggle worked fine but the switch turned out to be worn beyond repair. Julie thought she could find one at the local hardware store so she took off on a mission with a grin on her face. The walker had time to think. He rearranged some wiring to look more organized and cleaned up some wiring insulation litter and other trash of forty years. Then he and the hound dog took a walk.
He estimated the distance of the entire perimeter and jotted down the meager landmarks in the area. The prevailing slope was to the Northeast. The terrain would be hard to defend with the over growth of timber. It made for a nice retreat, but not a nice paramilitary installation. He jotted down information of ranges and overlapping fields of fire. He figured that someone could make a fortune on just the timber that needed cutting. He hated to cut trees, but not when lives were at stake.
7.
About the time he was deciding to move back to the compound the old dog raised his big ears as much as he could and uttered a quiet “quoof.” Then he heard Julie’s voice calling him. He walked toward the sound. It didn’t take long to see her face. She smiled when she saw him and the old dog. She said, “You rename him yet?”
“No, not yet. I’ve just been making notes about your perimeter. I think I’ll talk to your dad and brother about the need to open up the grounds a bit.”
She grimaced and gave him another “John Wayne” look, “Why do we have to chop down all these beautiful trees?”
“You don’t have to chop them down. It would just be better for establishing a good defensive perimeter.”
“We don’t even know where our