Doug DonnanExecutive Editor/OMNI-GENRE+MAGAZINE!
donnan.doug@yahoo.com
‘This story is dedicated to all the men and women who gave
their lives
in
defense of our country..’
"Iron Mom"
by
Doug Donnan
(Vacaville,
California)
“I have no idea who she is or where in the hell she got
that experimental XOS2 suit
sheriff,
but I do know I’m worried about tryin’ to stop her,” Officer Saltino
said as they
trailed
behind her in their patrol car. The cemetery was much larger than a casual
driver-
by
might think. The pea stone path that wound all around the undulating green
mounds
and
foot worn hillocks was made just wide enough for a standard hearse to
negotiate.
“She’s wearin’ a damn’ Iron Man suit!”
Sheriff Bench bellowed with a boiling pique of
aggravation.
“How in the hell’d she get in here with that gravestone? Where’s she
goin’?”
“A jogger tol’ me he saw an olive green
army truck pull up to the gates of this
cemetery
and let her and that headstone giant-step out the back. Then the soldiers just
drove
off! She tol’ the caretaker out here that she was comin’ in to do for herself
what
our
government boys should have done way back then, after it happened, said her son
was
killed overseas in Iraq. He was a genuwine war hero…medals, ribbons, Purple
Heart
the
whole nine yards. Damned caretaker said he made a quick sign of the cross and
let
her
just march on in carryin’ that big ol’ marble tombstone out in front of herself
like
Moses
comin’ down the mountain with the tablets.”
“I’ll be damned,” Bench breathed out as he
pulled at his hanging bank of blubbery
chins.
“You know, I’ve seen those damn XOS2 exoskeleton suits demonstrated
on the
Internet
somewhere. It showed that a normal person can lift up ta’ five-hundred pounds
without
breakin’ a sweat or an arm. Now I don’t know if I’d consider this
little gal to be
normal, but man she
sure seems to possess more than her fair share
of gumpshun’.
Drop
back and give her some space Salty, but let’s
stay on her. I gotta’ see the end of
this
little crazy parade.”
“Oh-Oh,” Saltino chirped. “You must be
psychic chief. Speakin’ of parades, take a
look in your side rear-view
mirror. That’s my jogger witness and he’s got a crowd with
him.”
Sure enough, not too far back and walking
briskly up the winding stone cemetery
pathway was a man in
a red running outfit and a sizeable platoon of other non-descript
citizens.
“Should I call in for some back up chief?”
Saltino asked as he reached for the
Motorola
handset mounted just beneath a luminescent green GPS screen.
“Seems to me like she’s tryin’ her best to
make sumthin’ right…not to do anything
wrong.I
think she can…I mean, we can handle this,” Sheriff Bench replied as
he
intercepted
DeputySaltino’s bony hand and directed it up to the steering wheel.
“We’ll
just follow the leader.”
“Roger that chief,” from Saltino as he
geared down. They rolled ahead…slowly.
* *
*
“Lookee’ there chief she’s cuttin’ across
into the grass. She’s headin’ off down into
that
valley,” Saltino alerted as he glared over the steering wheel.
“Hmm,” from Bench as he watched through
the windshield, “the valley of the shadow
of
death.”
“How’s that chief?”
“Nothing… pull up there where she stomped
over the stone curb. I think she’s
zeroing
in on her target.”
“This is too weird,” breathed
Saltino as he guided the squad car over.
* *
*
In time the entire throng consisting of
the colorful jogger, assorted curious onlookers
and
the two steadfast, but standoffish cops had formed a fair sized semi-circle
around the
now
stationary iron maiden. She had managed to position herself, by means of a
series
of
several rather deft hydraulic maneuvers, directly astride a tidy elongated
oblong
hillock…a
grave. The mechanical mom, poised there ominously straddling the green
grass
grave, held the alabaster marble headstone directly out in front of her with
cable
whirring
titanium arms. She kept it out there for a moment studying the chiseled
dedication
on its smooth face. Then, suddenly, she combined a shocking motorized thrust
with
the omnipresent force of gravity and planted the polished stone directly on top
of the
heartless
bronze marker placed there by the government to ‘honor’ her son. For the
briefest
of moments the earth shook.
“Jesus!” Saltino called out.
There were assorted gasps and shouts of
surprise from the other stunned onlookers.
Then,
an eerie but peaceful silence followed. Her mission now complete, the
mechanized
woman
rotated and stomped off back for the cemetery’s front gate. Sheriff Bench
slowly
stepped
forward from his position at the rear of the sight. Officer Saltino dutifully
followed
him.
The sun hung overhead in the blue sky a
silent witness, like a burning golden medal.
Bench pulled up just shy of the silent
marble monument. He stared down at the
chiseled
inscription for quite some time. Soon the others quietly advanced and did
likewise.
They
all stood there all around and about. Some removed their caps and bowed their
heads
while
still more than a few others did drop to their knees. The sheriff removed his
dark
blue
service cap and positioned it over his heaving chest.
“Take your damn hat off you idiot,” he
ordered with a slight sniffle at the gawking
Saltino.
“This man lying here was an American soldier!”
No comments:
Post a Comment