Going Nuclear

The Bus Ride

“You look like you’re running away from home,” said the old man sitting next to Tim on the bus.
“Sort of,” Tim replied absently.
“Me too,” said the old man. “I’m going to a retirement home to die.” Tim didn’t respond. “So are you going all the way to Toronto?” the old man continued.
“Yes,” Tim answered.
“”Dodging the draft?” the old man asked, eyebrows raised.
“I don’t know yet. At this point, I’m just meeting someone up there. He says he can help me find a place to live and a part-time job, and maybe help me find a school to go to.”
“Why not get a student deferment and go to school here?”
“I’m flunking out here. I just got my grades for last semester, and I’m now on academic probation. One more bad semester and I’ll be carrying a pack in Vietnam for sure.”
“Why are you flunking out?”
“I’m majoring in chemical engineering, and the school I’m going to is trying to prove how good their engineering programs are by flunking most of us out our freshman year. Two thirds of us failed second semester chemistry, half failed second semester calculus, and one third failed physics.”
“So you’re not up to the challenge?”
“I don’t like trying to learn in such a hostile environment. It’s like the instructors are just looking for reasons to take points away from us. Actually teaching us anything seems to be the last thing on their minds.”
“What do your parents think?”
“My dad is upset, as usual. He thinks I can’t do anything right.”
“What does he do?”
“He’s a marketing director, and I should mention he played football for the same school I’m flunking out of, started at tight end for two years.”
“Did you play football?”
“For a while in high school, but I quit my junior year.”
“Why?”
“I wasn’t getting anywhere. I wasn’t going to letter, and I didn’t like football anyway.”
“Why?”
“It just seemed so stupid. Ramming my head into someone seemed so unnatural. It was like my brain was saying, what are you doing, your skull is not a battering ram. Hitting someone with my fist seemed natural enough, but using my head just didn’t seem right.”
“Did you explain that to your father?”
“No, he would have just seen that as confirmation that I’m a pansy or something. I did tell him I wanted to run on the cross-country team though, then maybe run the mile on the track team in the spring. But he seemed too disappointed about me quitting football to hear anything else that I was saying, so I just let the running slide.”
“Will you continue with chemical engineering if you go to school in Toronto?”
“I don’t know. I was always more interested in doing research, possibly in biochemistry. I don’t know about working on the manufacturing side of things, and I definitely don’t want a corporate career like my dad.”
“Did you tell your dad you were looking into Canada?”
“No, he could never go along with something like that. He thinks the best thing I can do right now is join the National Guard. He thinks the experience would help me mature, and if he can manage to get me into the right unit, which he’s trying to do, then I wouldn’t have to face going to Vietnam. But I don’t want any part of that. I just want to get out from under the whole damned thing.”
“And you think Canada is the answer?”
“Yes, I do. I actually do. So what do you think?”
“Well, I can tell you as an old man that every time my gut told me to do something, really told me to do something, it was never wrong.”

Conspiracy

“Do you really believe what you’re saying? You sound just like one of those crazy conspiracy loons.” Diana rolled her eyes and shook her head before turning back to look at John.
“Hold on a minute,” John replied calmly. “Just ask yourself this: What U.S. President was elected twice, and both times one of his key opponents was gunned down before the election could take place? And I don’t mean figuratively. I mean bullets flying through the air literally taking out two political rivals.”
“I guess you mean…”
“And then ask yourself,” John continued, “what U.S. President recruited CIA operatives to join his election team, keeping in mind that among other things CIA operatives direct political assassinations.”
“Since you’re talking about Richard Nixon, I assume you mean Richard Nixon, but…”
“Yes, Richard Nixon.”
“So who exactly did Nixon have gunned down, according to your well-reasoned theory?”
“That’s easy, Bobby Kennedy in 1968 and George Wallace in 1972.”
“Really, Kennedy and then Wallace – bang, bang.”
“Right. In 1968, Bobby Kennedy had just won the California primary, which pretty much assured him of winning the Democratic nomination for President. But then suddenly he was shot in the head. He was popular, he had finally come out against the war in Vietnam, and there was a widespread belief that he was somehow destined to finish what his brother had started as President. But in an instant, all of that was wiped out. Hubert Humphrey ended up winning the Democratic nomination, and surprisingly enough the election turned out to be a close race. Nixon edged Humphrey out, but both men got approximately 40% of the popular vote. So if Kennedy had not been killed, if he had lived and gone on to do at least a little better than Humphrey, he would have probably been elected President instead of Nixon. You have to admit, the one person who benefited most from Bobby Kennedy’s assassination was Richard Nixon.”
“That doesn’t mean he did it.”
“I know, but he certainly had motive. Still, there’s a missing piece here. If Nixon and Humphrey each got 40% of the vote, who got the other 20%? The answer, of course, is George Wallace. And Wallace, who was to the right of Nixon politically, took most of his votes from Nixon, not Humphrey, which means if Wallace had not been in the election, Nixon would have probably taken about 60% of the votes and won in a landslide.”
“But a lot of wild things were happening in 1968 – race riots, student demonstrations against the war, the whole peace movement. That was a radical year.”
“Yes, but overall the country was still quite conservative. Nixon himself described his supporters as the ‘silent majority.’ And I have to think that the only reason Humphrey came as close as he did to defeating Nixon in 1968 was because Wallace managed to siphon off a significant portion of the conservative vote from Nixon. Wallace did take five southern states, you know.”
“I don’t know. It’s hard to say who did what or why.”
“Well if we move on to 1972, the question for the Nixon reelection campaign was: How is Wallace doing these days? And the answer was, even better than before. So once again Nixon found himself running against a Democrat on the left and Wallace threatening to make the race close by taking votes from the right. But then, guess what happened. Wallace took four bullets to the mid-section. Somehow he managed to survive, but the shooting took him out of the race. And predictably enough Nixon went on to win in a landslide, taking about 60% of the popular vote.”
“I know what you’re saying, but your evidence is still all circumstantial. And you are talking about a President of the United States showing a complete disregard for law and order.”
“True enough, but the blood was already flowing in Vietnam. And once the killing starts, a couple of more deaths probably don’t seem all that significant, especially if it’s for a good cause.”

“Man, working in that plant is a drag,” Richard grumbled. He took a long swig of beer and brought his mug down hard against the table. “Who would have thought food processing could be so disgusting,” he added. “I’ll be glad when school starts again. Thank God, I got my student deferment renewed.”
“It’s hot work, I’ll give you that,” Kenny replied. “But at least it’s a summer job and this bar is air-conditioned. So I hear you’re taking out some chick who works in bottling. What’s her name, Lisa?”
“Yeah, she’s a good time, if you know what I mean. Last Saturday we made cookies and watched old movies on television at her place.”
“Is she kind of tall and thin with a blond ponytail?”
“Yeah, that’s her.”
“I’m pretty sure I saw her the other day. Some guy pointed her out in the lunchroom. She did look hot, no doubt about that. So what would Janice think? I thought you two were talking about getting married.”
“Janice is seven hundred miles away. I’ll see her when I go back to school. Until then, I can’t be expected to put my sex life on hold. These are my peak years. I can’t fight nature.” Richard laughed and finished his beer. He then signaled to their waitress for another one.
“I suppose,” Kenny shrugged.
“Besides, it’s not just Lisa,” Richard continued. “I have a date next weekend with Cindy.”
“You mean that chick you went with in high school?”
“Yeah, I guess she still has a thing for me. So we’ll see where that leads this summer.”
“Does that mean you’re going to stop seeing Lisa?”
“Oh, hell no. I’m seeing Cindy on Friday and then Lisa on Saturday. I want to keep the thing with Lisa going for as long as I can. She’s kind of different. I mean with her I can really be myself. I don’t have to try to impress her for some reason. And we talk about everything – her childhood, my childhood, music, politics, religion, sex.”
“Sex?”
“Yeah, she’s very open and honest about it, really a trip. She doesn’t have a lot of hang-ups like most girls do.”
“Does she like working in the bottling department? I mean that’s kind of a nowhere job.”
“Not really. She has other plans. She did well in high school, and she’s going to start college next fall. She’s just been saving up for it.”
“Speak of the devil. Isn’t that her coming in now? It looks like she has some guy with her.”
“Yeah, she does. What the hell?”
“You look really bummed out. What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know. I thought we really had something good going. I can’t believe it.”
“Maybe she’s just been using you.”

“Your father will be back for dinner this evening,” Mrs. Blaine replied matter-of-factly. “He has a deacon’s meeting this afternoon.” Paul looked at his mother but didn’t say anything. “You two really went at it this morning,” she continued. “I think you both needed this time to cool off.”
“I don’t think it’s that simple,” Paul remarked. “He wants me to be something I’m not.”
“Well maybe if you get your hair cut and get rid of the beads and sandals, at least while you’re here this summer…”
“He said I looked like a girl,” Paul cut in. “He’s actually taking it upon himself now to judge whether my appearance is sufficiently masculine. Of course, I’ve been hoping that you would get involved and break the news to him that I’m gay, but…”
“You’re gay?” Mrs. Blaine brought her hand to her throat.
“Just kidding, mom,” Paul laughed. “Actually, the girls I know at school like my hair this way.”
“Don’t even joke about something like that, please. Your father’s touchy enough about the way young people dress these days. I blame the war, myself. I think kids dress the way they do to protest against what’s happening in Vietnam.” She paused and sighed. “I guess we remember when you were in high school and had short hair and played on the football team.”
“I know, but that was a different time. I was more trusting then. I followed the rules. I was a good boy. Now I’m older, and I want to figure things out for myself. And the harder I look at the people in positions of authority, the ones who actually make the rules that people like me are supposed to follow, the more convinced I am they don’t have a clue. They want to replace having an open mind with the power to control other people. Take dad, for example. When it comes to morality, he’s not open to anything. He insists that everything is cut and dried; no drinking, no gambling, no profanity, no rock music, nothing risqué.”
“Those things can hurt you,” Mrs. Blaine countered. “He’s just trying to…”
“Some of those things can hurt you if you don’t exercise proper judgment,” Paul replied. “A lot of things are like that. But what he wants to do is create a list of rules that he can judge my behavior against. With him, it’s more about control than anything else. Sometimes I wonder if he gets some kind of high from trying to control other people. And he’s not alone. The whole establishment is about control. They like to think they know what’s best for everyone else no matter how much they screw up themselves. And they get away with it. They control guys my age by drafting them into the Army, and they’re controlling the people of South Vietnam through military conquest.”
“Your dad thinks that college you’re going to is the problem. He thinks they’ve put a lot of strange ideas into your head.”
“You didn’t tell him about the pledge, did you?”
“What pledge?”
“The pledge we have to sign after being enrolled there for two years.”
“I don’t remember anything about a pledge.”
“To continue on and graduate, we have to pledge that we renounce any previously held religious beliefs as well as our U.S. citizenship.”
“Very funny. But your dad is serious. He said he won’t pay for your tuition next year if you don’t get your hair cut before you go back.”
“Well, he may have a point there.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I think the time has come for me to be on my own. Next week I’ll check into getting a student loan and start looking for a part-time job on campus.”
“Just because you don’t want to get your hair cut?”
“No, because I can’t continue being a dependent on the one hand and complain about control on the other.”

First Day on the Job

“Ah, Mr. Williams, good morning,” said Dr. Lewis warmly, extending his hand. A youthful Bob Williams returned the greeting cordially, shook hands, and sat down across the desk from his new supervisor. “First day on the job, you must be pretty excited,” Dr. Lewis added.
“I am,” Williams replied with enthusiasm.
“Reminds me of my first day, “Dr. Lewis continued. “Of course, that was a long time ago, over twenty years. Human Resources, or personnel as we used to call it back then, has changed a lot since the dark ages. Today, we feel we really get to know our employees. I think I mentioned before that for each of our salaried people we now have aptitude and personality profiles, interview analysis results, and a complete set of college transcripts. And then once a candidate is actually on board, we get to know that person even better through a series of employee development programs. We typically start with communication and group consensus training.”
“I believe you also mentioned career paths?” Williams asked.
“Yes, yes, we put together individualized career paths for each employee as our interaction with that person evolves.”
“I’ve been looking forward to participating in these programs myself,” Williams replied.
“And you will, you will,” Dr. Lewis responded. “What we particularly liked about your background was the business training you had as an undergraduate coupled with your masters in industrial psychology. Over time, we can see you becoming a very valuable asset to both Human Resources and the company in general.”
“You have a Ph.D. in industrial psychology, don’t you?” Williams asked.
“Yes, yes, and that probably helped me land my current position here, helped broaden my perspective. But enough about me. Today, if you’re ready, I’d like for you to jump right into a fairly sticky personnel situation.”
“Sure,” Williams replied with a furrowed brow.
“I’m talking about Max Kemper. He’s bright enough, has a chemical engineering degree, and he’s been with the company for a long time, probably too long. He’s worked primarily on the development of resins and industrial adhesives, has over twenty patents, and he has formulated a number of successful products. But unforunately over the years, he has become less and less of a team player. Instead of working with cross-functional teams to build consensus, he continually wants to strike off on his own. It’s gotten to the point that we’re going to have to take action.” Dr. Lewis paused and looked directly at Williams.
“I see,” Williams said with some hesitation.
“So what I would like for you to do is look over his file and then conduct a termination interview with Kemper at ten this morning. We’ll set up an appointment for him with you at that time.”
“Really, me? Isn’t there someone closer to the situation that should be handling this?”
“Normally, his boss would take care of this, but his boss is out of town. And in a way, this is more humane. He doesn’t know you, so there won’t be any sense of betrayal.”
“I don’t know.”
“You’ll do fine. This is a chance for you to prove yourself early, to carry out one of the toughest duties your job requires, first thing.”

At 10:00 am, Max Kemper entered Bob Williams’ office, introduced himself, and took a chair. “So what’s up?” Kemper asked, maintaing steady eye contact.
“Well, I have some bad news,” Williams replied. “Although you have a distinguished career with this company, the decision has been made to terminate your employment here.”
“And they stuck you with the job of telling me.” Kemper closed his eyes and shook his head from side to side.
“Apparently, you’ve had issues recently with the sales and marketing departments, and in particular with a Paul Lambert,” Williams continued.
“Oh yes, the young prince himself. Of course. So this is about Callar Industries.”
“I don’t know that it’s about that company specifically.”
“Well, Callar is a very big operation, and we’ve been trying to sell them adhesive for years. But they’re in bed with one of our major competitors, so we’ve gotten nowhere. We should have faced the reality of the situation and killed the project years ago, but too many egos were involved, including that of the project manager, Lambert. So now that we’ve racked up millions of dollars in development and marketing costs and we’ve been told that we’ve failed for the last time, Lambert and the old man have apparently decided that I’m the fall guy. I tell them that what they’re doing is stupid and give them solid reasons why, and then when I’m proven right, I get the axe. Of course, their reasons for getting rid of me don’t stop there.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to be fifty five in three months, eligible for early retirement with full medical coverage. By canning me now, they won’t have to pay for any of that.”

After the session with Kemper was concluded, Williams stopped by Dr. Lewis’ office, talked with him briefly, then returned to his own office and made a phone call to his wife.
“So how’s it going?” his wife asked cheerfully.
“I don’t know,” Williams replied. “Do you remember when I graduated with the accounting degree, I thought about becoming a CPA?
“A certified public accountant?
“Yeah.”
“You want to go back to that now, after spending the last two years getting a masters in industrial psychology?”
“Yeah.”

Billy

“I don’t know, I don’t know. I was just trying to stop him. It all happened so fast.” Stunned and anguished, the middle-aged policeman passed the back of his hand over his brow as he stared at the motionless body in front of him. He unconsciously returned his handgun to its holster.
“He’s dead,” the younger policeman reported from a kneeling position, his fingers still resting on the adolescent boy’s carotid arteries.
“God.”
“Doesn’t appear to have any weapons,” the younger policeman added. “Just this candy bar in his hand.”
“Yeah…I was trying to hit him low, in the thigh or hip or something, but…”
“Did you get him?” panted the portly theater manager, nearly out of breath as he staggered up to the scene.
“He’s dead,” answered the younger policeman. “I’ll call the desk.”
“Dead, wow…,” replied the manager.
“We’ll get an ambulance here right away,” said the middle-aged policeman. “So, can you tell me again what happened? Why did you call us?”
“Well, like I said before, his behavior was strange, very strange.” The manager frowned and shook his head from side to side.
“What do you mean, strange?”
“Well, for one thing, he spent so much time in the complex. We have six movie theaters, you know, and he would be there by himself every Saturday and Sunday, all afternoon each day. I noticed him at first because he was black and bigger than most of the other kids. He would just walk in by himself, buy a ticket, and then go straight into one of the theaters without saying anything to anyone. After a while, of course, I got suspicious. Was he doing something perverted in there, like bothering girls, or was he doing drugs, or maybe dealing drugs? Something didn’t add up.”
“Did you observe him doing anything out of the ordinary?
“No, not really. I stuck my head in a few times, but every time I did, he just seemed glued to the screen.”
“You said you thought he might be doing drugs. Did you see any evidence of that?”
“Nothing directly. He always acted kind of funny, but I don’t know if it was because of drugs.”
“What do you mean, acted kind of funny?”
“Well, when he started coming in so regularly, I tried being friendly with him. I’d ask him how it was going or say something to him like, that looks like a good movie. But he wouldn’t answer me. He’d look down at the ground, maybe shake his head up and down a little, and that would be it. Then, as soon as someone handed him his ticket, he would beat it straight into the theater.”
“Why did you call us today?”
“Well, a girl came out of one of the theaters and complained about him and some other boys.”
“Why? What did he do?”
“I guess there were several boys his age, high school boys, sitting in front of him and talking during the movie. Apparently, he got very upset about it and told them to shut up. The next thing you know, they’re yelling back at him, and it looks like there could be a fight. That’s when the girl came out. As soon as she told me what was going on, I went in and told them to hold it down or I would call the police. But they kept yelling at each other, louder and louder, so I went back to the lobby and called you. I can’t have that kind of thing going on during a show, I just can’t. Of course by the time you got there, they had all calmed down. But you wanted to talk with the participants, so I thought I’d get him first. I walked up to him and told him in a quiet voice that the police were in the lobby and wanted to see him. He walked out with me, but when he saw you, he bolted. He just bolted.”
“I know. As you say, he was kind of big, and he seemed to have a crazed look in his eyes. When he started running down the street, I ran after him and shouted for him to stop several times, but he didn’t. I thought he had something in his hand and was afraid he was going to hurt some bystander or something. So…”
An ambulance pulled up to the curb, its blue light flashing but no siren. Three emergency technicians got out and worked their way through the small crowd that had gathered around the body.
“Does anyone know who this is?” the younger policeman called out, looking around the group. “He doesn’t have any identification on him.”
“Yeah,” answered a girl standing nearby. “That’s Billy Southwood. He went to the same school I go to.”
“Was he on drugs or something?” asked the middle-aged policeman with a sense of urgency. “It sounds like his behavior was kind of strange.”
“I think he had emotional problems,” answered the girl. “He was in special classes. I don’t know about any drugs.”
“But why did he spend so much time in the theaters?” asked the manager. “Do you have any idea?”
“Maybe in the dark, watching movies with everyone else, was the only time he didn’t feel different.”

“It’s your friend Mandy, isn’t it?” As he asked the queston Ron sat up in bed, then turned his head toward Susan and waited for her response.
“It’s not her,” Susan replied wearily. “It’s more a matter of what she has.” Susan pulled a pillow to her bare breasts and folded her arms around it.
“What does that mean?” Ron grumbled back.
“It’s just that seeing her made me realize I’m missing things in my life, things that I want. Mandy has those things, but so do a lot of other people. So it’s not her specifically; it’s more me.”
“You’re saying this whole thing comes down to things?”
“In a way.”
“I thought the idea was to avoid getting hung up on things. We were going to live together and work minimum wage jobs. Our plan, in case you don’t remember, was to avoid obsessing over money and prestige, because the people who do that can never get enough to be happy anyway.”
“I was high when I agreed to that, and we had just had sex. I thought that was enough.”
“But now you’ve changed your mind.”
“Apparently,” Susan answered with a sigh. “Mandy has a job she really loves, and she and Rick have just had a baby.”
“A baby, I see.” Ron rolled his eyes. “So what about finding fulfillment in simple things like music and friends and books?”
“I’m not saying I want to get rid of music and friends and books, or even grass for that matter. I’m just saying those things aren’t enough.”
“And now you’re telling me you want to go back to school. I don’t get it. We both have college degrees. We don’t have anything left to prove.”
“I want to go to law school and become a public defender, a good public defender. I’m not interested in making piles of money, but I want to contribute in a meaningful way. I want my life to count for something. And eventually, I want to have a baby. And I want to be able to support that baby.”
“I thought you agreed that the world is already overpopulated. What about that?”
“I don’t want to have ten kids, just one.”
“So are you seeing someone else? Is that what is really behind all this?”
“No, nobody else is in the picture.”
“But you want to break up?”
“Yes.”
“Have you thought about possibly having a child with me?”
“No, I owe the child more than that.”