The Hollow Men - Episode 37

Uncle Bill explains why he moved to west Texas after World War II, a few beers are drunk to end a strange day, Drew’s Mom makes some changes and Drew and Sam drive back to Austin.

Last week in Episode 36 of The Hollow Men we viewed the day of Gene Remington’s funeral through Drew’s eyes.

The Hollow Men is the second collection of not quite true tales of Texas. If you have recently subscribed and like to read things from the very beginning feel free to start with The Cold Days of Summer, the first collection of not quite true tales of Texas. Each episode of The Cold Days of Summer and The Hollow Men contains a link to the previous and next episode so you can easily move through the story line.

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The jungle, the desert and the art of jury rigging

I put on some jeans and a t-shirt and went back into the living room. Uncle Bill was still in his suit looking out onto the back yard.

“Those were good words, Drew, good and true. Your Dad would have liked what you had to say. You did well.” Out of all the things that was said that day, Uncle Bill’s words at the end of the day were the only ones that mattered.

Over the next several minutes others drifted into the living room, the door bell rang and people started coming in. Before long the house was crowded with folks. For most of them, it was a good thing, the closeness and the busyness kept them from thinking too much of the day. Soon the smell of food being warmed up in the kitchen drifted through the house. Someone turned on the television in the living room and a college football game caught the attention of more than a few.

It wasn’t long before the sound, the crowd, the noise was getting to be too much for Sam and me. She didn’t like being underfoot, and she danced lightly around the room, trying to avoid being stepped on. As for me, I didn’t dance, but I wanted no more.

Uncle Bill looked over at me and at Sam, then walked over to us. “Drew, why don’t you and Sam come outside with me for a few minutes while I have a cigarette?”

Sam and I literally jumped at the opportunity, Sam off the floor in excitement, me off the couch and in two steps I was at the door. Brutus made it a foursome.

Once we were out in the yard, Sam and Brutus started their inspection of the fence. Uncle Bill took a long drag of his cigarette while I relaxed in the quiet.

“Did your Dad talk much about the War?”

“He never talked about the war.”

“I was in the Navy, stationed in the Philippines. I joined the Navy in 1938. It was still hard times back then and for a young kid who wanted to see the world, the Navy seemed like a good bet. I was not a student of history or of current affairs. I had no idea how big a pile of shit I was stepping into. I was stationed in the Philippines.

“Then December 7, 1941 came. Hell, I didn’t know anything about Pearl Harbor, not until the war was practically over. Over in the Philippines we had our own hell to deal with. That same day, December 7^th, the Japanese struck all over the Pacific, including the Philippines. They caught us off guard. We didn’t see it coming. Before we knew it we were in the middle of a battle we couldn’t win. Some of us were killed, some of us weren’t. Then we learned about a whole new kind of hell, the Bataan Death March. Shit, I don’t know how I made it, but I did. I watched good friends die. I watched men die by the side of the road, collapsing from exhaustion, from dehydration, from hunger. I watched others die because they tried to help those who had fallen, and the God damn Japanese would bayonet them right there and leave them to die in the muck. I learned to shut it all down, to listen to no one, to just walk forward, just to live another day. God damn, I hate the God damn, fucking jungle.”

I winced at that, Uncle Bill didn’t swear much at all, and that kind of talk sounded foreign coming out of his mouth.

“Yeah, I know, I don’t talk like that. Good thing Sherry isn’t out here or she would work me over good. The only time I talk like that is when I think about the jungle.

“You remember that saying of your Mom’s, how you have to ‘forgive and forget?’ Well, I sort of took that and flipped it around. I moved here to forget so I don’t have to forgive. After the war, after I made it back to the states, I decided to live someplace that would never remind me of the Philippines, of the jungle. That’s how I ended up here. There’s nothing here that reminds me of the jungle. Sometimes it is entire days, weeks, when I’m not reminded of the God damn jungle.

“We moved here in ’46, then in the 50’s, about a year after your brother Ed died, I convinced your Dad to move out here. There was good work and good places to live, and they needed to move someplace that didn’t remind them of East Texas, just to help put away the memory of Ed, just so they could get on with living.”

“It wasn’t after I had gotten back to the states that I learned that your Dad had been in the Pacific with the Naval Construction Battalion from ’42 to the end of the war.”

He stopped talking for a moment. I wasn’t sure if he was just pausing to catch his breath or if he was waiting for me to say something.

“I don’t understand, I’ve never heard you say anything about the war, and I sure as hell never heard Dad talk about it.”

Uncle Bill looked at me sadly. “Sometimes you don’t want to tell folks about some of the things you saw or you did. Other times you just think you didn’t do anything special, that’s how it was for both of us over there. All we did was survive and we did whatever we could to survive, to get back to the states. Once we made it back we closed the door on that part of our lives.”

He finished his cigarette, tossed it to the ground and ground it out with the heel of his boot.

“Not many of us got to be heroes, at least not in the dramatic sense, but often, just getting through the day was heroic enough. That’s all I did. After we were captured, we talked brave, of breaking out, and killing the Japs, but they had us beat, worn out from work and lack of food and water. All we could do was survive. Men liked your Dad paved the way to victory. They kept things working, they gave the pilots safe places to land.

“Your dad always knew how to take something that didn’t work, then get it working and could keep it working. I never understood how he did that. He could just look at something, mumble to himself, grab a couple of tools, hunker down and get it going. I hadn’t seen anyone do what he could do until you did, first time was when you fixed my lawn mower years ago. Do you remember that?”

I nodded my head.

“How the hell do you do that, that, what do they call it – jerry rigging?”

Jerry rigging, that bristled the hair on my neck.

“It’s not jerry rigging, it’s jury rigging. Jerry rigging is a bad piece of temporary work. It might look good, but it won’t last at all. Jury rigging is the opposite, it might not look good, but it might last forever.”

“It might not look good, but it might last forever… I like that, sounds like a lot like Gene. Hell, I don’t really care what you call it: jerry rigging or jury rigging, I just want to know how you do it?

I calmed down as I thought about it. I never really had thought about it, I just did it.

“I don’t really know. I just look at a problem or situation, then I let my mind go blank. Sometimes an answer just shows up. I put it together according to the pictures in my mind and most times what I end up doing works better than what was originally there. Hell, most time the temporary fix is so good I never get around to re-doing it with something more permanent, there’s no need to do.”

“Like that hair dryer?”

“Yeah, that will last until the hair dryer motor burns out. Could be a couple of years, easily.”

“Damn, it’s something to watch, that’s for sure. Like I said earlier, it brought a little bit of Gene back into this house when we all needed it.”

Sam and Brutus had finished their patrolling, found a nice patch of grass to lie down and had fallen asleep.

“Look at them, fast asleep, the weight of this day didn’t wear them down too much did it?”

“No, it didn’t. Wish I could say the same for me.”

“Don’t worry too much, Drew. I know it hurts now, and it will hurt for awhile, but you did good today, you helped a lot of folks deal with the day and on a day like this, that’s a damn good accomplishment.”

Uncle Bill stretched his arms to the sky, yawned and said “Think I’ll go back into the maelstrom. You ready to come back in?”

“No, not yet. Think I’ll keep Sam and Brutus company for awhile.”

“All right, just don’t stay too long out here. It won’t be too long before someone inside will need you.”

Uncle Bill walked back into the house. Sam opened one eye at the sound of the door opening and closing but once she saw I was still there quickly fell back asleep.

I'm not sure how long I had been out there, just by myself with Sam and Brutus when I felt something cold against my shoulder. I had my back to the living room door and was sitting on the ground. I looked up and saw Mike Garrett, James, Lyle and Art. Each of them had a can of Coors in their hand, save for James who had two cans. It was the second can of Coors that was the something cold. None of us said a word, I took the can and a long drink. All of us nodded at each other.

We had finished our beer, Mike and James had gone back inside to get a few more, when the next group ventured out into the back yard. There was Sue and J.T., and to my surprise, Jack and Kate walked out. There were plenty of hugs, and Sue could not help from crying. Mike and James came walking back out with an ice chest instead of a few beers.

“We made the decision that those folks really don't need to be drinking so we decided to save them from themselves.”

“Good decision, Garrett, good decision.”

Jack reached in and pulled out two beers, one of them for me.

“Sorry about your Dad, Drew. I always liked him. He never treated me like a punk, unlike most of the parents in this neighborhood.”

I thought back to my Dad's description of Jack beating up a kid in the alley and after the fight how Jack asked my Dad if he was going to tell his Dad about the fight and my dad said no.

“He admired your style. He liked how you just got down to business and took care of things. No pussyfooting around.”

Jack smiled at that and took a sip of beer.

As we drank I learned that Kate had finished up her five year commitment in the Army and was “mustering out.” She would be a civilian at the end of the month and was going to live in Austin until she found a full time accounting job.

I'm not sure how much I drank, but it didn't wipe away the hurt in me. At some point people started drifting away. Mike, Jack and Kate were the last to leave.

Sometimes I just watch, part 2

By the time Brutus, Sam and I came back into the house the crowd had thinned out. George and Mary were playing on the living room floor. Bud and Elizabeth were keeping a loose eye on them from the couch while Mom, Aunt Sherry and Uncle Bill were saying goodbye to the last of the visitors.

Sam, Brutus and I sat down on the living room and watched George and Mary play. They were in their own world, completely oblivious to everyone else. George had a small train that he was pushing around the floor, making soft hooting noises and occasionally saying “All boards” as he played. Mary had two stuffed animals propped up next to her and was having an imaginary tea party.

Sam understood George's play, but was initially confused by Mary's tea party. After a few minutes Sam picked up on the words cookie and cake and when Mary asked Sam to join the party Sam did so in happy anticipation of cookies and cake. When Mary offered Sam an imaginary cookie Sam just stared at her. Sam heard the word cookie and knew what it meant but couldn't find a cookie anywhere. She was even more confused when Mary proceeded to eat the imaginary cookie. Sam, like most dogs, is a realist, if you can't see it, nudge it, hear it, smell it or eat it, it has no value. Finally, she gave up and dejectedly sat down besides me. Brutus, long ago having been tempted and now wise to the sham of the tea party, was no longer tempted or confused by such things.

I was reminded of Elizabeth when she was young, of the way she would get lost in her make believe worlds and how I sometimes got lost in them too.

I don't know what was on TV that night but I didn't care. I was watching a far better show.

Letting go

Mom, Elizabeth, Budd, Mary, George, Uncle Bill and Aunt Sherry all went to church Sunday morning. I didn't. I stayed with the other heathens in the family, Sam and Brutus.

I stayed busy. I cleaned up the house and had everything cleaned and put away by the time they got back. I even warmed up one of the casseroles that had been left the day before.

We ate lunch quietly. Around 1:30 Uncle Bill and Aunt Sherry said their goodbyes. I walked them out to their car.

“How long do you plan on staying, Drew?”

“Not sure, Aunt Sherry. At least a day or two more. I don't know how Mom is going to feel about being all alone.”

“She will be sooner or later. From talking with her, I think she's planning to go to work tomorrow. She wants to get back in a routine. All of this standing around is hard on her.”

“You think that's good, to go back to work so quick?”

“Best thing for her, I would say. Best thing for you too. I wouldn't be surprised if she tries to convince you to leave tomorrow morning.”

I didn't know what to say to that.

Uncle Bill said “Drop by the office before you leave. It would be good to see you.”

“I suspect I will be well on the road before you get to your office.”

He laughed and said “Yes, you are probably right. I halfway suspect you will want to be back on the road before the sun rises. That’s fine. Spend your time with your mother, but do give me a call from time to time. I’ve missed the lunches with you and Rick.”

Two hugs, a wave and they were gone.

Elizabeth, Bud and their crew left a little after 2:00 pm. I got a good hug from Elizabeth, a good handshake from Bud and shy hugs from the little ones.

Then it was just the four of us. Sam and Brutus were glad to have the house so empty and I could tell Mom didn't mind it much either.

We sat around the living room, all of us rather quiet until my Mom started to talk.

“I'm planning to go to work tomorrow. You know what they say about idle hands. I'm thinking you need to get back to Austin, you've missed a few days of school, haven't you?”

“Just three days, no big deal. Are you sure you want to go back to work so soon?”

“I need to go back to work, Drew. I need to get back in the daily routine of things. You do too. There's no need for you and Sam to stay. Brutus and I will be fine. Don't worry about us.”

There wasn't much to say. I could tell she had made her mind up. I did think of one thing I had to do before I left.

Around 5:00 pm I told Mom I needed to pick up a couple of things at the store and that I thought I would take care of it now instead of tomorrow. She was fine with that and I drove over to Albertson's on 8^th street. I needed a coffee maker, one with a timer. Dad wasn't there anymore to make her coffee in the mornings.

I bought a functional coffee maker and set it up in the kitchen that evening. I filled it with water and coffee, set the time for 6:15 am.

The next morning Sam and I were up at 5:15 am. Brutus and Mom were still asleep as far as we could tell. We decided to go for a morning run and moved quietly through the house and out the door. The air was crisp, right around 50 degrees and it felt great. This time we ran down 11^th street heading east, past Rick's house and all the way to Limestone Avenue, then down to Beverly street and back west. When we hit Garnet Street we turned back on to 11^th and to Mom's house. We cooled off quickly on the front porch and went in. Still no sound from the rest of the house. Sam and I both were in the kitchen quenching our thirst.

At 6:15 am the coffee pot started brewing. The smell of brewed coffee filled the kitchen. Sam's nose twitched pleasantly at the smell. At 6:30 I heard an alarm clock ring in my Mom's bedroom, the sound of Brutus jumping off the bed onto the floor and my Mom, moaning softly and shutting off the alarm. A few minutes later the two of them came out of the bedroom. Buster trotted to the back door and stood there patiently. I poured a cup of coffee for Mom, handed it to her, gave her a quick kiss, walked to the back door and let Sam and Brutus out into the back yard.

I walked back into the kitchen to find my Mom sitting at the kitchen table, clutching her coffee cup and crying softly. I had a good idea of what was going on. I pulled up a chair next to her, sat down, put my arm around her and didn't say a thing. Didn't seem a need to or the right time.

A few minutes passed before anyone spoke.

“Thank you, Drew. I didn't even think about coffee until you handed me a cup. Do you know I haven't fixed coffee for myself in all the years since I married your father? When you handed me the cup it all started to hit me. Sort of silly, isn't it? To get so upset about a cup of coffee?”

She smiled sadly.

“It's not silly at all. Don't know if you noticed, you have a new coffee maker, this one runs on a timer. It's set up to brew every morning at 6:15 am. All you have to do is fill it with coffee and water before you go to bed at night, then in the morning you'll have fresh coffee to wake up to.”

I heard a gentle scratching at the back door, walked over and let Sam and Brutus back into the house.

“Course, I don't think you have to worry about sleeping in too much. Brutus is going to make sure you're up early enough to fix him breakfast before you go to work.”

Brutus wagged his tail happily in agreement.

Mom just sat there and looked up at me.

“I don't think I can do it, just not today. I thought I would be ready to go to work, but... there's just a hole in me. I can't do it, not today.”

“Mom, that's all right. No one would be surprised. Do I need to call someone at your office? Sam and I will stay another day, keep you and Brutus company.”

She listened, but seemed to strengthen.

“I'll fix you a good, hearty breakfast, for all of you. I do need to get some grocery shopping done. Sure, we have all kinds of casseroles, but to be honest, I don't want casseroles. If you don't mind, it would be nice to have you and Sam here today. We'll take care of some things, get everyone and the house ready for tomorrow, then in the morning I'll go to work and you and Sam will head back to Austin.”

That was that. Sam and I stayed another day. Mom fixed an excellent breakfast of biscuits, gravy, sausage, hash browns, iced tea, coffee and pan scrambled eggs. I showed Mom how to prepare the coffee maker for the next day. We cleaned up around the house, ended up throwing out every casserole, though the protein loaded ones were thoroughly enjoyed by Sam and Brutus. In the early afternoon I put the dogs out in the backyard with fresh water and Mom and I went out for a late lunch and after that we went to the grocery store. Mom bought healthier fare than I had ever seen her do, a lot of vegetables, fruits, chicken and grains. No red meat at all, something I don't think I had ever witnessed before.

“I tried to change your father's diet for the last several years. You know him, if there wasn't red meat on the table, well, it wasn't a meal. I don't have to worry about that anymore. I'm going to eat healthy from here on out, I'm going to fix and eat what pleases me.”

I smiled at that and realized that my Mom was going to be all right. She was tough, deep inside tough. She was going to be all right.

The next morning Sam and I slept in until we smelled the coffee brewing. Mom was up in the kitchen when we walked out and put a tray of cinnamon rolls in the oven.

“Want to send you off with a full stomach.”

I gave her a hug and reached down and gave Brutus a quick rub.

The cinnamon rolls were delicious. I had three, Brutus and Sam had two each and Mom had one. By 7:45 I had the truck loaded and ready to go. Mom was dressed and ready for the office. I put Brutus out in the back yard with full bowls of water and food and a couple of flip chips to chew. Back in the house, Sam was ready to go and Mom realized it.

“Give me a call this evening?”

“Sure, you know I will.”

“Drew, drive safely today.”

“I will, you too.”

We walked out together, the four of us. I gave Mom a good hug and got a better one in return. Sam and Brutus said their goodbyes, and as Brutus’ tails swished happily I said my goodbyes to him. Sam and I got in the truck, I started it up, waved at my Mom and we drove back to Austin.

That evening I called her. She had a good day at work, plenty of work, then came home and fixed herself a nice salad. We promised to talk once a week.

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Author’s note: I had mentioned in a previous episode that the Uncle Bill character is based on three relatives, my uncle Bill Akins who was captured by the Japanese in the Philipines during World War II and survived the Bataan Death March, my cousin Bill Wafer and my cousin Brooks Akins.

My paternal uncles Larry, Carl, Bill and my father Warren Akins

The chapter “Sometimes I just watch, part 2” is a reference to an early chapter from The Cold Days of Summer, where Drew watches his little sister Elizabeth play in imaginary scenes.

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Next week in Episode 38 of The Hollow Men Drew isolates himself, experiences his breaking point as he watches the stars fall from the sky, and has an epiphany.