Locomotive to the Past, George Schultz [snow like ashes series txt] 📗

in the living room, on the night before. Of course she would’ve! Of course! Jason found himself wondering whether Susan would’ve thought the interchange sufficiently important—to have physically awakened her husband, when she’d retired. Or—more than likely—would she have simply waited, till Saturday morning?

“I would imagine… that you’ve done a good amount of thinking, since being accosted by my wife. Well, my wife… as well as your date!”

“Yeah. Couldn’t hardly sleep. Couldn’t hardly sleep… at all!”

“Listen to me, Kid. None of these decisions have to be made… right this instant! You’ve been a good worker for me. You may want to build up the old bank account… before making any sort, of major move! I’m assuming you’re gonna want to buy a car. You might consider getting one… soon. They’re not making ’em anymore, y’know! Detroit has become ‘The Arsenal of Democracy’, as they’re beginning to call it. So, as the supply of cars diminishes… they ain’t gonna get no cheaper, don’tcha know!”

Get a car! Man! Something else he’d never thought of! He’d never even driven a car! Hadn’t really ever thought along those lines! Ever!

“Uh… Eric? Would you… sometime… would you teach me, how to drive?”

“You’ve never driven a car? I thought that… coming from Tennessee… you’d have driven, all over the countryside! Maybe, on a tractor! How about a tractor? Have you ever driven one of those? A tractor?”

“Nope. Nothin’ like that.”

Eric looked completely stymied! A bit of a shock, to his boarder! Had Jason just done something critically wrong? Had he just said something—an utterance that would seriously jeopardize his situation, with his landlord?

“I… I don’t understand,” stammered the older man, “how… how you…”

Then, he seemed to recover! To a point, anyway! He sat there—as if made of stone. His roomer could swear that he could almost hear wheels spinning—and gears meshing—in the interior depths of Eric’s skull! Finally, came the older man’s halting reply:

“Uh… yeah. Sure. I’ll be… I’ll be glad to… uh… you know… to teach you… you know… teach you to… uh… teach you how to… uh… to drive.”

Jason could not help—but feel that he’d just done irreparable harm! Irreparable harm—vis-a-vis his status there! At least, with his landlord!

“Uh… Jason?” It was evident that Eric was doing his best to rally. “Uh… have you given any… any thought to… to, you know… as to what sort of… of career? What sort of career… one you’d like to pursue?”

“Well,” he responded—weakly—“Valerie… my date, last night… she made a suggestion. She thought that I should, possibly, give some thought to… well, to… to going, into radio. As an announcer, you know. She seemed to think… that I had a good enough voice. I guess I don’t sound like an empty rain barrel. But, she told me that… if I learned how to project, properly… she thought that I could, possibly, make something of myself, in radio.”

“Hmmm. That’s a thought! I don’t know how easy… or difficult… it might be to crack that egg. I don’t listen, much, to the radio. Have no idea how much… or how little… they might pay. Have you thought of anything else? It seems to me… that with the manpower situation starting to get a little on the critical side… you shouldn’t have any trouble finding any kind of a job. One not quite so… ah… physically demanding. I don’t know what your draft status might be, but…”

It was at that moment that Susan entered the dinette.

“But, I would imagine,” she interjected, “that most of them… most of those jobs… would be, pretty much, in the same field, that he’s in now. Construction! Or assembly… or something like that! I don’t know . . . one way or another… but, I’d have to doubt, that Our Boy would be all that mechanically inclined.”

Our Boy?

“I’m not really very good… with tools, or electrical stuff… or anything like that,” replied the young man. (Their boy!)

“If it’s going to boil down to something… like in construction… he might as well stay where he is,” observed Susan, speaking to her husband. “Stay, probably, with you!”

“As bad as that?” responded her husband, chuckling slightly.

“Oh, stop it,” she feigned anger—hands on her hips. “You know what I mean!”

Jason was glad to hear his landlady appear, to defend him! But—from what? Complicating matters—immensely—was the fact, that he was detecting a goodly ration of difficulty, beginning to unfold! A “sticky wicket”—when it came to his landlord! An uncomfortable feeling—regarding the man’s feelings, toward him! Maybe the situation needed defending! Who knew? He was back to nursing one of his lifelong regrets! That of being “so damn imperceptive”! (The words of his mother! Uttered often! Really often!)

“I’ve… I’ve tried to give this thing lots of thought,” he said. “Lots of thought! And the only field I could think of, that didn’t require a whole lot of physical dexterity… or any mechanical skill… was Valerie’s suggestion. Trying to, maybe… try and get in, to radio.”

“I think that that is something you really should consider,” trumpeted Susan. “Seriously consider! You do have a decent… well, more than a decent… voice. Have to, maybe, work a little on diction… and, possibly, articulation. But, just a little. Listen Jason, you are well-spoken! Who else uses words… words like dexterity . . . these days?”

“Well,” shrugged Eric, “if that’s to be the decision, you should go ahead and aim at it! Shoot for it, Kid!”

Our Hero felt better—hearing his landlord call him “kid”!

“Full bore,” continued Eric. “You’re going to have… to concentrate on it! Make it your one… one and only… goal! Make it… almost… an obsession!” (Had he not heard those very same words from Valerie—the night before?) His landlord’s continued softer tone—and what he’d just advised—seemed to indicate that he’d, for sure, lightened up!

Lightened up! Is that a term they would use nowadays? Actually, that was the least of the young man’s worries.

“Almost?” Susan was questioning—good-naturedly. “Almost an obsession?”

“No,” responded her spouse. “A real obsession! A bona fide… damn real . . . obsession! A bona fide obsession! You’ve got to think