Voyage to the Real World
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"If you are so anxious to sleep alone, you might as well start practicing right now!!". Appearing to have said all she wanted to say, she once more slammed the door shut. Its locking mechanism then clicked its own metallic mocking message. Ole just sat speechless on the couch. The following morning, he tip-toed silently to the bedroom door. Just as silently, he tried the knob. It wouldn’t budge. He then visited the bathroom where he groomed himself for work...he would need to wear yesterday’s underclothes and socks. Just before leaving the apartment, he returned to the bedroom door and just listened. He heard nothing. He was confident of the fact that Kate would never do anything to harm herself. But just to reassure himself of that knowledge, he tapped lightly on the barricade. The sound of his soft knocking disturbed the baby’s sleep, causing him to jabber incoherently and whine. Ole’s moral barometer rose significantly when he detected the sound of a loving mother comforting her child. Soberly, he left his home unkissed, then strolled to the street corner to meet the vehicle that would carry him to the base and work. There he would face another uncomfortable moment; informing his supervisors of his departure. At his work place, Blake arranged and re-arranged the documents Sgt. Dade had thrown in his in-basket. While he had engaged in those half-wasted motions, his thoughts were of his wife. He wondered if what he had done would forever weaken, or maybe even decompose the very glue that binds a couple together: unquestioned trust. After dismissing such concerns, he focused his attention on his work. It took him only five minutes to whip the turn-in documents into proper sequence. In one hour he would have them properly recorded. At eight-thirty, the main door suddenly swung open. Papa Mitchell marched in, confessing at the same time the obvious: that he was half an hour late. "Mr. Mitchell", spoke-up Blake, catching the ex-officer off guard as he passed by his desk headed for his own. "Morning son. What’s on your mind this fine day?" "Looks like you won’t be seeing my smiling face around here much longer," he warned his crude faced supervisor. "That so. Are you going someplace and not coming back?" responded Mitch acting as if he had only half realized what his young subordinate had just said. Remaining serious, the Airman gave up more specific information. "I have received orders to go to England. I start clearing the base in one week. So, as you can see, I don’t have much time to break in a new clerk." Mitchell did his level best to sound crushed upon hearing the news. But the young man knew that, at worst, the Major would suffer only a moment of concern; knowing as he did, that with a new clerk, the "mob" would need to endure a period of time when it would be necessary to cloak their extra-official business deals in greater secrecy. Airman Blake also knew that Mitchell, Bender and DeAngelo would join together and rejoice in the knowledge that one who knew too much would soon be remove from the scene of their crimes by a distance of half a world.
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About the Book
Although he had left school after the eighth grade, Raymond educated himself. He served his country for twenty-one years. When he retired, he enrolled in college. Raymond has gained a wealth of knowledge, experience and perspective over the years. He has worked as a teacher, retail manager, pottery instructor, truck driver, farmer, laborer and a ditch digger. He lives with his wife of forty-eight years, Mary, in Cedar City, Utah.
About the Author
Born into a large family in Hyrum, Utah, D. Raymond Anderson joined the United States Air Force at the tender age of seventeen and served the air arm of our armed forces for twenty-one years. Enlisting with only six grades of schooling, the author educated himself informally while serving his country. After his retirement from the Air Force, he went on to college to earn a bachelor's degree in science. A man of varied experiences, Mr. Anderson has worked as a janitor at a truck stop, as a retail store manager, a carpenter, a farm hand, a sheepherder, a substitute school teacher, and has even shoveled irrigation ditches. Now retired and a member of the AARP, the author at one time was an instructor in ceramics art for classes held for senior citizens. With his wife of forty-eight years, Mary, the author makes his home in Cedar City, Utah. This is the author's first published work.