BLUEGRASS preview 4 - The Bookmark

Somebody hammered at the door. Earnest answered the door. Diaz looked angry. “What the Hell is going on in there? I heard screaming.”

Earnest stammered and then said, “Not a thang, suh. Ah just burned myself with some hot coffee, suh.”

Diaz, “You don’t drink coffee!”

Earnest feigned lack of concern. “Ah was feeling tarred and had a friend bring me some.”

Diaz, “I’ve never seen you drink coffee! What are those towels doing all over the place?”

Earnest, “I was just wapin’ up the mess, suh.”

Diaz, “Who brought you the coffee? Wasn’t some guy with a beard, a robe, and sandals; riding on a donkey was it?”

Earnest, “No, suh! Y’all don’t know this gentleman. He’s a private freyend.”

“If I had your clearance, I would come inside and search the system for signs of unconventional behavior!”

“But, suh! Y’all don’t have my clearance. Thank you!” Earnest shut the door in the face of the shift supervisor and picked up the paper towels. He poured some water from his drinking bottle on some towels. When he placed the towels in the trash can, where he found Ricardo Perez’s coffee cup with some leftover coffee. He poured it out on the towels and let them soak.

The black phone rang. Diaz said that the Air Force was going to claim Earnest’s system for some top priority, mission sensitive work for the next twelve hours. Diaz said that, since Earnest had already worked seventy-five hours that week and was showing signs of fatigue, it would be best if he cleaned up his system and went home for some R and R.

Earnest shut down his three-hour job. He made an “OBE” (overcome by events) note on the job sheet and noted the elapsed time. He placed all classified printed material in brown bags sealed with tape. Then he double-bagged each package so that the second bag opened at the opposite end. He labeled each package a brief note as to its contents. He labeled the waste bag “BURN.” He changed the ribbons on the printer and the typewriter. He looked on top of, and underneath, every piece of equipment in the room. When he had sanitized everything and had loaded all classified material, wrapped, on the cart, he left the room.

In his haste, his personal bookmark fell out of his Bible. It bore a picture of Jesus Christ standing on a gold-fringed, white cloud, holding erect the Excalibur sword. The obverse side held some kind of slogan--“‘The wrath of the Lord will be unmerciful to the infidel. The Last Days are upon us. Be ready!’ Vengeance of the Lord Ministries.”

Earnest deposited all of his tapes, jobs, burn bags, and ribbons in the vault and securely locked it. He filled out is timecard, nodded to Diaz and headed to the elevator.

☼

Diaz had five minutes to checkout the system before the Air Force team arrived. He found the coffee stained paper towels in the trash can by the door. He also found a bookmark but little else. He walked out smiling as a contingent of four Air Force personnel walked in and secured the system for the rest of his shift.

BLUEGRASS preview 3 - Nazarene Dreams

DeeDee disgusted Earnest, as well she should have. Her kind only caused men grief.

DeeDee had so focused on his Bible, that she had missed the towels and the walk.

He always walked careful, so as not to step on a crack, nor to step where two floor tiles joined. He did not want to break his sainted mother’s back. Nevertheless, he tried to walk subtly so as not to be obvious. The sinners would not understand.

When he sat some place, if he thought nobody was watching, he would place a paper towel beneath each foot position and another two or three on the console of desk where he was working. It was a hygienic thing, really. He did not want the evil filth of others to contaminate his soul.

He sat bone erect, upright at the operator console. He placed the Holy Bible on two overlapping paper towels, open to Revelations. He loved Revelations. He liked to read about the beasts, and the horns, and 666, and the eagle and the bear.

☼

Ever since he was a young’un in the Kentucky hills, Earnest’s mammy had taught him how the world was living in the Final Days. His family had become charter members of the Eula City Assembly of God and had helped build the church. When the Nazarene church had come to town, they promptly had become charter members of that church. His family had a history of reaching for the most unusual church in town, and dropping their current affiliations to become charter members of each more exotic church that came to town.

The saddest days in the Frost family’s history had occurred as pioneers. They often had broken new ground in the hills. Sometimes, when an area had lacked adequate gospel teaching, God forbid, they had had to make do. Under those pitiful conditions, they had joined a Methodist, Presbyterian, or Lutheran congregation in order to keep the Sabbath. However, at such times they had spoken to no one, and had promptly returned home after service to pray and write letters. They had written letters to the churches they had left behind, telling how they had settled in a new community that only had pagan Methodists, and how it would serve the Lord’s will if they could send an anointed man of the cloth to liberate the new land.

☼

Earnest’s heart pounded each day when he opened the book, anticipating the blowing of the horn and the arrival of Jesus on a cloud--right there over the Control Data Corporation 3800 memory bank. As a loyal Nazarene, he had dutifully left records, on genealogical websites and in family Bibles as to exactly which cemetery entrance to use, which road to follow, and which gravesite to approach, so that Jesus could find, and cause to be risen again, every member of his family who had done the Lord’s will.

Earnest was saving his money so that he could be entombed in a mausoleum when he died. That was the dream of any good Nazarene, to protect the body for the day it would arise anew.

☼

Nevertheless, Earnest was only human. Eventually, he fell asleep and his head lay back on the paper towel that he had dutifully placed on the console chair headrest.

In his dreams, he traveled to faraway places and sometimes to faraway times. Sometimes, he traveled back to visit Bath-Sheba or Nebuchadnezzar and experience the horror of their paganism. Sometimes, he would visit with Jesus, who would praise him for living a clean and upright life. Sometimes, he would visit a whorehouse and wake up all sticky and shameful.

☼

Tonight Earnest drifted back to his second tour in Nam.

Earnest’s platoon had come under heavy fire from the Cong in Cambodia. He had tried to call in an air strike, but no planes had been available. He had raged, “Why God hath thou forsaken your people?” He had cried so loudly that he had drawn Cong fire. Bullets had whizzed by his head only inches away, ricocheting off tropical limbs. He had seen five of his unit blown to bits by a rocket-propelled grenade. He had witnessed the bayoneting of three more. In the excitement, he had lost count. He could only bring back frightening, disjointed image bursts, but it seemed as though the Cong had hit them all. A grenade had gone off only five feet away. If there had not been a large boulder in between the grenade and Earnest, it might have blown him away too.

Earnest had screamed and hollered as he had run through the undergrowth. Fortunately, for him, he had run in the right direction. He had yelled for about ten minutes. He had run so hard the Cong could not catch him.

Then he had fallen under some heavy tropical leaves and had lain still. He had gone catatonic. He had lain there for three days with bugs crawling all over him. Poisonous snakes had slithered over his belly. However, only his body had lain there. In his mind, he had gone to God’s heaven.

A Top Secret unit of Spanish Especialistas, which nobody even today knows existed, had accidentally found him when their dog had sniffed him out. They had carried him back to a United States Special Forces unit; who were roaming amongst the primitive montagnards, tribal hill people who lived along the border. From there, he had made his way to a hospital ship in the Gulf of Tonkin.

Earnest had remained catatonic for 18 months. Even after he had arrived stateside, he had remained in a trance, maintaining silence. The doctors had tried everything--Playboy centerfolds, loud noises, and sudden immersion in ice-cold water. One day, a Nazarene chaplain had called upon him. The chaplain had told him that God still loved him. He had let him feel the knobby, leather surface and thin fragile pages of the Bible. The chaplain had told him God had forgiven him for running, because there had been nothing else he could have done.

Earnest had slowly turned his eyes to look at the chaplain. The chaplain had stayed with him a long time. Eventually a smile had come over Earnest’s face.

Still, a prolonged twelve months of treatment at the veteran’s mental unit had elapsed before he had been able to venture off the grounds. Another six months had passed, before the doctors had evaluated him as ready for release. He had received lots of medals and honors, most of which he no longer could remember.

☼

Earnest’s dream, tonight, ended with him franticly screaming and running from the Cong. That is where it usually ended up. Fortunately, for him, he had not dreamt of the whorehouse.

☼

Nevertheless, he always remembered God smiling at him when the Nazarene chaplain had visited him. He was a war hero, and as such had had no trouble getting a compartmentalized Top Secret clearance.

Seeking Sanctuary preview 5 - Becoming Gringos

The dawn’s dim light revealed storm clouds to the south, moving rapidly over the Sea of Cortes and up the Colorado River. The monsoon would soon overtake them. Natasha and Kermit grabbed some quick pancakes with bacon and eggs at the next-door coffee shop.

☼

Crossing into California, the California border station waved them through without even asking if they had stolen cactus plants aboard.

☼

Tecate was not as Edgar remembered it from forty years ago. Originally, he had approached it from the west. From the east, in 2003 there were no signs. The AAA map showed it. He forgot to turn off at Boulevard. He stupidly thought there was a turnoff from the main highway. They had to backtrack 11 miles to Boulevard.

Once on the old highway, Natasha had to squat in the bushes to pee near a large old barn. When she had to pee, she had to pee. She could not get up when she finished. People drove by looking at her bare ass. Edgar took another wrong turn at a new Y in the road--this time for a mile.

Once on the right road, they yawed and pitched through farming country on a narrow two-lane road. Natasha could not believe that Tecate existed.

Edgar had chosen Tecate as a border crossing because he remembered it as almost non-existent. He hoped it would have fewer facilities and staff to search their car and run license plate scanning, and no facial recognition gear.

A simple T intersection bore a Tecate Border Crossing sign. About one hundred yards to the border, a Payless store, and parking lot, looked out over the border crossing.

They crossed in the lane for those vehicles with nothing to claim and then pulled over to ask a border guard what to do. He said they could park where they were, but they would have to walk back to Inmigración. The border guards said they would be happy to watch their kitty cat, but were much more interested in watching the skirts walking by.

The Immigration officer helped them fill out the forms. Neither of them could read well without their glasses, and Natasha had been born with a Ukrainian name, which later had been Americanized. The officer sent them across the street the Banco Bital. There we waited an extraordinary time while four braceros cashed their paychecks. There was no air conditioning and it was hot. Natasha went to the car twice to check on the kitty cat. Edgar watched as she made her way across the border traffic and back.

Finally, after paying eighty dollars for two six-month visitor permits, they returned to the official’s office, which was air-conditioned. He never indicated that they needed to pay a bond for the car, as Edgar and Natasha feared, but they had concern that they would have to pay again in six months, they would be stuck--they would insist on paying with a credit card and their credit would be ruined by then.

The guards indicated that with so many cosas, and chingararas, they should not try the mountain road and would have to travel through part of Tijuana.

The first thing they noticed upon crossing the border was that the streets were suddenly rough on the worn tires and suspension system. Drivers cut crazily in front of them.

The second thing they noticed was that there were few directions. Not knowing where to go, they drove to a city park within sight of the border--small and old, with a scattering of historical buggies and trees.

They missed the first right turn marked ‘ENSENADA.’ The second such turn condemned them to repeated merges from diagonal streets across oncoming traffic, with limited visibility of merging traffic coming from behind.

Leaving Tecate, the road wound through depressed areas. Natasha wanted to stop for a margarita, but all of the cafes were on the other side of the street.

Soon, they approached the Tijuana Airport and the signs became more confusing.

Edgar took a wrong turn and asked for directions. The directions were little help. He drove north to the first stoplight and turned right when it felt good. He was about to turn north again, when he realized that somehow the sun was now coming from the passenger side. Tijuana drivers maneuvered like creatures in a video game. All Edgar could do, with Natasha shouting, was try to avoid a collision.

Signs appeared overhead indicating that we were Ensenada bound. The highway cut through hills that were steeper than those in San Francisco, if not has high. Houses of ticky-tacky hung on cliff sides, awaiting the next earthquake. The road led out into the countryside. After several minutes, it broke out on the ocean. Natasha expressed relief at having left the blinding heat of Phoenix behind and at having reached the Pacific sea breezes.

Of course, on this desolate highway, Natasha had to pee. They stopped at a turnout near Mal Paso. Bathhouses and toilets clustered by the highway. She forgot to take the roll of emergency toilet paper. A Mexican man passed her a wad of toilet paper through the door for a quarter dollar.

Rosarito Beach bore an unpleasant resemblance, on a small scale, to Laughlin, Nevada, or Miami Beach. Tall, if somewhat scattered. Hotels lined the shoreline catering to moneyed people who enjoyed driving through Tijuana to reach a Mexican Hotel.

Past Rosarito Beach, they found themselves driving the toll road. This road offered beautiful seascape panoramas, a la Big Sur. Attractive decorative plantings lined the roadside. The view was spectacular up and down the coast of cliffs similar to those found in Big Sur and Northern California.

Ensenada had changed since Edgar’s visits in the sixties. Where, he remembered coming around a red rock hill and suddenly seeing the city spread out before him and the triangular port docks below; nowadays the road came into town near sea level. Since the Chapultepec Hills were to the inland side of the road, he missed Cicese Research Center. The road just ran right into the city. Ensenada drivers appeared to drive somewhat better than Tijuana drivers. Ensenada had grown. Actually, the municipality population had exploded, but the largest municipality in Latin America still could only claim Ensenada as a sizeable city.

☼

The only way to describe driving in Ensenada is to imagine that you are a tiny microbe riding on an electron flying around an atom of uranium. The multitude of electrons are whizzing by so fast that all you can do is hold on tight to the electron that you are riding and hope that basic laws of physics hold and there is no collision.

☼

Hotel prices were higher than they expected. Most were over thirty-five dollars.

They pulled into a gas station to ask directions to a cheap hotel that would allow cats. As Edgar turned off the ignition, he remembered that he had not secured the car top carrier since Tecate. He had requested Natasha not to let him forget. He had opened it in Tecate, at the border, to get their papers. He had only locked one front side lock.

Experience had shown that any high speed driving could balloon out the carrier and cause it to spill items down the road.

Edgar had only driven fast on the toll road and the carrier was pretty firmly packed. The lock had held and they would never attribute any important missing article to having spilled out.

☼

PEMEX station attendants suggested that the Jade Motel would be reasonable and might not make to big of a fuss over the cat. Actually, Mexican Federal Law prohibited pets in hotel and motel rooms, so owners had no latitude in this regard.

A friendly PEMEX customer offered to lead them to what he thought was a cheap and accommodating hotel nearby. He led them out of the gas station over a concrete ridge, which banged the Hell out of their low-slung compact. The car got stuck. It groaned and “thamp-thamp-thamped.” It sounded like the drive shaft was spinning on the concrete, but this car was a front wheel-drive vehicle. The hotel turned out to be expensive. Edgar checked for fluid leaks under the car and found none. Never-the-less, the car had trouble starting from then on. Edgar thought it was the low battery on the key chain remote anti-theft transmitter.

They found El Jugador Motel. Though plain looking, in its day it mimicked a Las Vegas Motel.

An omen that all was not well, surfaced when Edgar met a young Mexican man in the parking lot named Bromista Satánico. Brom said he was going to study movie direction at La Universidad de Guadalajara, in Jalisco. He said his email address was ejodeldiablo@hotmail.com.

Edgar and Natasha smuggled Kermit into the room and went out for dinner. Natasha did not want Chinese and darkness had already fallen. They passed up a restaurant-bar that served the equivalent of Mexican Buffalo wings. Finally, they found a small restaurant in a mini shopping center where everyone was very friendly and polite. Edgar had a dish of plain quesadillas and Natasha had chile rellenos. The cheap food was not that flavorful. Their beer was served in foam cups. They did not get sick.

☼

Back at El Jugador, the man in the business office gave them directions to Michaels’, in El Rincon. The man said that Michaels Martins was about a most reliable and honest person and a 1-hour drive from the El Jugador.

☼

After a breakfast of huevos rancheros at the hotel, Edgar and Natasha set out to find a new home. Many Ensenada streets were not signed and others were discontinuous. Natasha began yelling at Edgar and hitting him. Edgar did not care that the government did not approve of a man hitting a woman. Knowing from long experience that he could not talk her out of hitting him, he hit her back until she stopped hitting him.

They rolled through a fertile valley.

At the town of Soleado, Edgar almost followed the highway, straight into the dirt alley of ‘La Segunda Sabados’ (The Saturday Flea Market).

Just after the flea market, they found the turnoff to Machado. The road led out into the country past more agricultural fields and then started swaying back and forth, as it crossed the east edge of Estero Indio and turned west along the south edge, heading towards Machado.

Nothing much looked promising.

They came to an extended fish camp. Poblado Francisco Juarez had a lumberyard, a laundromat, and an internet café.

All along the road were strategically placed topes, or speed bumps, to slow vehicular traffic.

The road straightened up and was lined with stalls on the south side where corn, fruit, and honey were sold. A tope ensured that vehicles slowed down enough to consider stopping to buy. Which came first--the tope or the stands? Most likely, the chicken!

BLUEGRASS preview 2 - DeeDee

DeeDee logged in all the new jobs. Fortunately, for her, Billy had already logged in thirty jobs before the end of his shift. Liam had called in sick. If he had shown, she could have flashed him some tease shots and he would have done it for her. He probably got sick sunbathing down at Bonny Doon nude beach. On the other hand, maybe he got sick at O’Reilly’s Tavern on the ninth hole. Oh Well!

☼

DeeDee seemed nervous as she worked. She lived a life of multiple persons. She was sleeping with, and on-and-off shacking with, Brad Dominguez. Brad, really thought that he was her only man. On break time, she pumped the guard at the South Gate in his guardhouse, which was awkward if a lady airman came through the gate at the same time he did. She let any cute airman have her who showed an interest. She just locked the door for fifteen minutes. In addition, she paid lip service to her Southern Baptist Minister on Thursdays, when she went for ‘gospel counseling.’ She worried how long she could hold all of this together, without turning more heavily to the fantasy escape of drugs. She could not help herself. She had compulsions.

☼

DeeDee organized the jobs on a cart by priority and pulled the magnetic tapes for each job. She made sure she filled the top of three layers of the cart first and left the bottom two racks free.

☼

Downstairs, Carl executed jobs on System 21. He would phone her if another system opened up. She loved to go down there with all the airmen. They smiled big smiles and almost soiled their pants whenever she entered. If one of them had some slack time, he might come in and help her. He would not want her to break a sandal strap loading the printer. She would respond by reaching down to her purse, which she had sat on the floor, to get something, she pretended to need.

☼

Earnest was another story. He never looked at her breasts. Nor did he ever look at a guy’s butt. He never asked about the score in a ball game. He never used drugs. He never drank. He only went to company parties, if the bosses demanded it. He never wore wrinkled clothes. He never brought novels to read at work. He drove a Jeep, a Post Office recycle that he had picked up for the price of an old horse. He lived at the YMCA. He never questioned authority. If forced into a situation to speak, he normally limited his response to “Yeas Ma’am!” or “No Ma’am!” He only volunteered to speak when he needed another secured operator to watch his system while he went potty.

☼

The phone rang and DeeDee picked it up. System 24 was about to become available in twenty minutes.

She hurried and feverishly stacked the remaining tapes on a second cart on the second tier of racks and waited.

☼

At five o’clock sharp, Earnest came out to fetch his Bible from his locker in the lunchroom. DeeDee was ready, bending over servicing the two carts and in full bloom. “Could you help me Earnest? I have to go down in five minutes.” She had stretched her arms out over her head as far as she could to reach down to the tapes leaving very little material to cover her rear.

Earnest walked past with no more than a “Harrumph!” He returned holding the Bible to his chest and looking straight ahead. He walked past her again as she bent over the cart with more than her blonde hair hanging low.

“That son of a bitch is not human,” she muttered. “Any real man would have at least squatted down, tried to get close to me, and smelled my hair. I wonder what goes on in his mind. I wonder if anything goes on in his mind.”

The phone rang again. “DeeDee, if you don’t get down here in five minutes I’m gonna call Diaz.”

She knew he would give her at least ten minutes. She scurried to arrange the last tapes onto the first cart in at least alphanumeric order and pushed off for the elevator.

Diaz stepped off the elevator. “You still here? Your system is waiting. I want you to come see me as soon as you lose the system. We need to talk. It’s time for your performance appraisal. Have you completed your Self Appraisal?”

She tried to look busy and overworked and even let a tear form on her cheek. “Yes! Okay! Yes! I hope it doesn’t take too long.”

Diaz walked off, past the job login counter to the lead operator’s cubicle.

DeeDee felt crushed. She knew she was a real morale booster for the crew and the troops. She gave them everything she had--any way they wanted it. Still, she had to be humiliated, preparing a Self Appraisal. If Diaz went down on her just once, she would get a good review.

When she reached the first floor, she had to wheel the jobs through a maze of long halls. The doors were all locked or being locked as the day shift bureaucracy left for home. She often had wondered how many of them would have happily satisfied her in the custodian’s closet.

☼

The master sergeant wore a scowl on his face. She knew he meant it for her. However, one look at their pants and she knew the airmen applauded her arrival. One young airman, a new recruit, rushed to her side to help any way he could. She could think of a dozen ways.

She asked him to check the printer and make sure it was properly loaded with four-part carbonless paper. Then he could come over and sit by her, because she needed something of his to lift her spirits. Between them, they got the system loaded and the first job running in reasonable time--for one operator.

She told him her boss did not understand her and was going to give her a bad review at break time. He asked if he could do anything to help.

She thought he would never ask.

DeeDee, “Are you a virgin?”

The airman blushed, but his spirit rose. “Yes, Ma’am. People aw pretty strict in Charlottesville, whea I come from. I ain’t done nothin’ since I was knee high to a cotton picka. Why do y’all ask?”

DeeDee smiled seductively and placed his hand under her dress and into her soft warm inner-thong. “Well there is something special you can do to me. On the other hand, maybe I should say there is something special I could do to you. Why don’t you close the door and lock it?”

BLUEGRASS preview 1 - Earnest

Earnest Frost entered the Computer Services Office. As usual, he spoke to no one. He did not have a bad personality, nor did he dislike any of his coworkers. He did not have any personality. He had nothing to say. He always dressed neatly. What else would you expect from an ex-Marine? The people at the front desk only had Secret Clearances, all except Billy Breck. Billy Breck had something in his past. The Air Force reluctantly continued to grant him access to the base.

Earnest hung up his coat in the lunchroom, walked across the hall to System 26, and knocked on the door.

Ricardo Perez opened the door and let Earnest in. “Easy night tonight! TA left a bunch of 5-minute jobs this morning. I’ve been really hopping. PCG left about five one-hour jobs. I got them done. All you have left are three three-hour jobs for FG, unless the evening courier brings you something. You should have an opportunity to catch a bunch of shuteye if the jobs don’t require too much interface. If you close your eyes, just make sure the printer output box is empty, a fresh box of paper is loaded, and the paper is feeding correctly on the tractors. There’s nothing worse than waking up to the sound of shredding paper in the printer two hours into a three hour job.”

Earnest nodded.

Ricardo left, tossing Earnest the key ring that would let him into all of the classified systems on the floor.

Earnest checked the printer. He rolled the operator chair over by the printer door and relaxed.

. . . Chunk a chunk . . . chat chap . . . chink . . . chink . . . chink . . . raw punk . . .

☼

Ricardo stopped by the job submittal counter for a smoke.

Billy, “That guy’s a fricking freak!”

Ricardo, “Were you ever in the service?”

Billy, “No! But he’s still a freak.”

Ricardo gestured for Billy to calm down. “The guy’s a Marine. You don’t come out of the corps the way you went in. He did two back-to-back tours in Nam.”

“What’e do over there?”

“Who knows? He never says anything. But, I heard he got a medal for something.”

Billy nodded. “I told you he was a freak!”

Ricardo frowned. “Listen, you go over there for two tours as a jarhead and we’ll see how you come back.” Ricardo snuffed out his cigarette. “By the way, when you gonna get your secret clearance?”

Billy went back to reading his Joseph Conrad book.

Ricardo put on his Little League jacket, walked out to the elevator, and went home to his wife and kids.

☼

Billy muttered to himself, “Fricking Freak won’t even come out and spend a cigarette break with me.”

DeeDee came in, swishing her hips inside her flimsy pastel sizzler. “Sorry I’m late Billy. But I was transported to another level of consciousness and didn’t hear my alarm.”

Billy slapped his Conrad closed on the job desk. “Jesus--it’s 4:15 in the afternoon. Wha’d’ya do, sleep all day?”

Tall and curvy, DeeDee leaned over the counter revealing her sumptuous breasts. “I wouldn’t call it sleeping, Billy--more like exploring. I explored places no woman has ever been before. Don’t you ever feel like exploring someplace new?” She bent over and picked up an imaginary piece of paper revealing her thong panties.

Billy could almost smell it, but he knew she got around. She really looked and sounded good, with her soft sultry voice and her soft curves; but so did cocaine until you tried it. God only knew what kind of parasites she had to make her shimmy like that.

☼

The bosses had flipped out, when corporate had ordered them to integrate the shop. They had hired a trio of girls off First Street who had tried out for their jobs by bending over in six-inch skirts that covered three-inch bikini shorts.

The girls--not exactly airheads--had not easily picked up those 50-pound boxes of paper in their high-heels.

Nevertheless, they had picked up the paper boxes and the bosses hired them for their eye candy value. Brains were not what guys remembered about them. Later, the bosses wised up and hired Melinda.

Melinda, the fourth girl, represented the new wave of hiring trends that management had adopted, after the customers complained about the poor job executions from the teasers. Melinda had come in early today, in a long-sleeved blouse and pants. Already hard at work on System 27, she supported a group of three airmen. Although attractive and intelligent, she looked more like Roy Rogers than like Marilyn Monroe--not to call her unattractive. She did more work in her ten hours than the other three girls together did in any day.

☼

DeeDee asked for a turnover as she leaned on the counter.

Billy, “Well it’s about time. I’d think you’d be accustomed to frequently being turned over, huh?”

DeeDee smiled condescendingly. “Hush Sweetie. You just wish you could stand up to me like a real man.”

Billy groaned. “Alright, these ten unclassified jobs just came in at 4:05. I left them for you to log in and set up since you were already late.”

“You’re supposed to log in, at least, anything that comes in between 4:00 and 4:15.”

“And you’re supposed to be here at 4:00. If you want, I could tell Diaz you just got in?”

“God! Where is Diaz?”

“He’s probably dropping off some dope at the guardhouse, so the guard will be ready for you when you drop on him.”

“If I had a witness, I’d have you charged with sexual harassment.”

Billy made an ugly face. “And if I had a witness I’d publish the picture in the Air Force Times.” He stuck Joseph Conrad in his knapsack and stood up.

“You really are a stand up guy.”

“Yeah, and you really are a lay down girl.”

Billy took the elevator down and went home to his lonely apartment. He knew what he was going to do first thing when he got home, after that teasing by DeeDee. He was going to wear it out.