Jimmy Jack and the Smartman Read online

  Chapter 4 - The Pool

  "You sure know how to singe one hell of a steak, Kurt Larry." I wash my first mouthful of burned meat down with a gulp of Kurt Larry's stale beer. "Like my grandmother used to say, 'brown it's cooking, black it's done.'"

  Kurt Larry's too busy combatting his grill's flames to pay much attention at my attempt at humor, but Ray Ray and Joe Bob laugh while they lounge in Kurt Larry's pool. The four of us were the first to sign onto Yogi's construction crew, and so we've formed a kind of social club that meets on Saturday afternoons when we're not working on the smartmen's enormous building project. I'm not sure of the exact reason, but my skin breaks out in rashes if I spend any time in Kurt Larry's pool. Ray Ray and Joe Bob, on the other hand, have never complained of any itching or burning sensation after Kurt Larry's pool wrinkles their skin. Maybe I'll ask what Yogi thinks about my reaction to Kurt Larry's pool the next time I see the smartman.

  "Hey, Ray Ray," shouts Joe Bob, "you ever decide if you need to buy that camper you've had your eye on for a while, or if you needed to replace the wedding ring your old lady claims to have lost?"

  Ray Ray frowns at his beer. "I don't know what to do. Been wanting a camper of my own since the days my old man used to take us all out to the old, state parks to fish through the weekends. But I don't like how casually Hope Beth walks about without that wedding ring."

  I've known Hope Beth for a very long time, so I know Ray Ray has very good reason to worry.

  "Have you recently asked the smartman what he thinks about it, Ray Ray?" I ask.

  Ray Ray sighs. "Lately, I haven't had time to ask Yogi."

  Kurt Larry's face peers above his grill as flames further devour the blackening steaks. "I think those smartmen have some nerve slackening off on the duties they owe us. Who can guess what's distracting them so much? I'll tell you what they're doing. They're running us ragged so they don't have to listen to our problems the way they've promised us to."

  "Yogi purchased this swimming pool for you before you did any work, Kurt Larry," I interject. "Some would think that was very kind."

  "He's just buying us off, Jimmy Jack," Kurt Larry growls "You'll all see. I think Yogi and his pals are planning something big inside of their bubbles. There's just nothing natural about their heads being so big."

  Ray Ray and Joe Bob don't seem to be paying much attention to Kurt Larry's warning. They look content to keep floating in Kurt Larry's pool, drinking Kurt Larry's stale beer until they start itching. Even though there's been cloud cover for most of the day, I'm expecting Ray Ray and Joe Bob are going to be screaming with sunburn by the time they're through Kurt Larry's supply of beer.

  I don't immediately respond to Kurt Larry's accusation. I'm not so sure that I don't believe him. The giant bowl we helped shape out of concrete according to the smartmen's instructions covers most of the mountain rising beyond Kurt Larry's pool. I've been working that project all summer, and the view of that concrete bowl still takes my breath. You can't sense the size of it while you're working it, while you're standing directly on top of it. But when you find a view that holds all of that mountain, you can't resist wondering where all the pieces come from. You can't dream how the smartmen found the money that had to be needed for that contraption. I understand why Kurt Larry is suspicious.

  I haven't told anyone that Yogi's told me that we're helping to build a giant radio. I can hardly believe it myself that we might be building such a thing. Who's ever heard of a radio made out of concrete? How can you listen to a radio that's so large? I've not noticed one button or dial installed anywhere on the complex. There are hundreds of long, metal rods randomly rising from the concrete, so maybe the smartmen plan to have us manually point the rods at whatever star they hope to talk to. I just know the radio isn't going to be picking up any of the wrestling broadcasts. I doubt if I even notice when we complete it. How would I? What do I know? What do any of us know?

  Ray Ray shakes a new can of beer before opening it, desperate to force a little life into the drink. "Well, Kurt Larry, what do you think we're building for the smartmen?"

  Kurt Larry only shrugs while the flames from his grill jump higher and higher.

  Joe Bob wades to the edge of the pool. "Kurt Larry, you can't get us worked up over conspiracy and not share your theory with us."

  Grunting, Kurt Larry drops the lid to his grill, dooming whatever steaks remain to a fate of carbonized corpses.

  "I think all the smartmen have us building a giant castle on that mountainside for them. That concrete bowl is the foundation for a huge bubble chamber, a place where all the smartmen can gather together."

  "I wouldn't fault them for it," Ray Ray answers. "It must get lonely living alone in those bubbles."

  Kurt Larry sneers. "I don't think you'll feel very sorry for them after they start living together. Just think what all those minds are going to come up with if they're all in the same place. Those smartmen are plenty dangerous enough living on their own. Look at that concrete bowl spreading across the mountain, and imagine it surrounded by barbwire. If you think we're busy now, just wait until we start taking commands from all those smartmen sheltered in their castle."

  Thus Kurt Larry billows one ominous and dark cloud over our weekend gathering. Ray Ray and Joe Bob scratch at their elbows. The concrete bowl seems to expand over that mountain as I look at it.

  I try to break the tension suddenly gathered in the air. "You willing to put any money on your theory, Kurt Larry?"

  Ray Ray laughs. "Not Kurt Larry. He craps diamonds, he's so tight."

  "I have an idea," I continue, "we'll make a game out of it, have a pool regarding what we're building for the smartmen. Everyone throws a little money into the pot, and everyone gets a guess concerning what we're building for the smartmen. Whoever guesses correctly takes the entire pot."

  Joe Bob nods. "I'm in. We're building some kind of new power plant. The smartmen are always telling us we need to take more care in how we spend our energy, so we must need a lot more of it."

  Ray Ray waits a moment before offering his guess. "We're building a launching pad for a rocket ship. All those smartmen are probably sick and tired of listening to all of us. They're having us build their way off of this rock."

  "You're a fool," Kurt Larry laughs.

  "Oh, I don't think his guess is so far off the mark." The others give me funny looks. "Ray Ray's guess sounds as good as anyone's. I think the smartmen are building some kind of radio."

  I would usually feel offended for the way the others laugh at me. Beer even shoots out of Ray Ray's nose. But I feel relieved to have found a way to let go of the secret Yogi made me promise to keep, and I feel clever for finding a way to do so that will promise me a profit.

  "And you're just downright mad," Kurt Larry shakes his head at me. "What good is a radio the size of a mountain going to do for anybody?"

  Ray Ray continues to chuckle. "Maybe the smartmen want to listen in on the wrestling matches."

  Joe Bob grins. "And it's not like you could put a radio that size into your pocket when you went fishing."

  I wink. "That's my guess, and I'm sticking with it."

  The relief I feel after tossing Yogi's secret from my shoulders proves short-lived. Kurt Larry's conspiracy theory itches in the back of my throat. At the same time, my tastebuds struggle to savor the black steak Kurt Larry drops upon my paper plate. I believe I know the intentions of the smartmen better than any of my friends. Yet Kurt Larry has me very worried that there might be something more, something Yogi hasn't shared with me, beneath the smartmen's efforts to make friends with aliens from the stars. My friends are right. That concrete bowl expanding upon the mountain looks nothing like a radio. I realize I have no way to determine if Yogi is telling me the truth. The smartmen are bound to give us whatever advice will best help the rest of us feel confident we're making the proper choices. Lately though, Yogi is making me feel confused.

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