Majestic Read Online Free PDF

Jeep."
    "I'd say more like a hundred, son. We'd be at it for a month."
    He surveyed the mess, and felt hopeless. There was so darned much of that tinfoil and other junk he could hardly believe his eyes.
    Who the hell would do it? He couldn't haul all this crap out in his Jeep, not in a month of work. And what about the gasoline? A man had to think about the cost. At a dime a gallon, ten dollars' worth of gas at least.
    He walked around, turning over pieces of the rubble with his toe, trying to see if he could find some insignia, something more than the little violet squiggles. But there was nothing, not a number, not a name.
    "Hell." This wasn't what he wanted to see. He couldn't expect the AAF to deal with this mess unless it was theirs. But this didn't look like any sort of military stuff he'd ever heard of.
    Maybe it was secret. Secret stuff. Them and their damned secrets, they'd really made a mess of one man's pasture.
    He reached down and picked up one of the pieces with the violet writing on it. The thing was balsa wood, but it was so hard he couldn't dent it with his fingernail. It looked like balsa, he could see the grain. It was at least as light as balsa. But how could it be so damn hard?
    The letters were inlaid into the gray surface. What did they say? He couldn't make out a bit of it. Was it Jap?
    Maybe that was it: the Air Force was testing some kind of Jap secret weapon they'd captured from old Tojo.
    "Banzai," he muttered. Then he tossed the little piece of wood aside.
    He strode forward, moving steadily up a long rise. Now he could see signs of fire. Some of the pieces of foil were melted, others showed signs of scorching.
    He listened to the silence. It made him want even more urgently to get his kids out of here. What kind of thing was it that terrified dumb sheep and horses and made birds fly away? Whatever bothered the animals about this stuff probably ought to bother him, too.
    Then he realized that there weren't even any insects buzzing around here.
    The place was totally silent, and he knew that even the little things, the insignificant things, had been frightened away.
    He whirled around, sure that somebody was coming up behind him. But there was only the kids standing in the sun, their skin golden, their faces solemn.
    "Come on, y'all. Lets get some of this stuff picked up and put in the back."
    Each of them dumped an armload of the wreckage into the Jeep. Then they got in. Bob pulled the choke, then hit the starter. She ground and gasped and finally chugged to life. He put her in gear and she went lurching off, tires spinning and whining in the wet, sandy dirt.
    "Move," he growled, whipping the wheel around and gunning the motor to get out of an especially bad area.
    Then he was on dry stone and doing twenty. She rattled like a can of marbles, but she got them home three times as fast as horses, and for that he was grateful.
    Ellie had heard them come rattling down the hill, and was waiting at the kitchen door. He stopped the truck and turned it off, then got out.
    His wife looked small and fragile, just pretending all that strength of hers.
    He gathered her in his arms.
    "Is it bad?" she asked.
    "There's somethin' funny."
    "Are all the men dead?"
    "There weren't any men, Mom," Billy said.
    "There was wax paper, like, with yellow flowers pressed in it."
    "It's all about like this." Bob showed her the back of the Jeep.
    She was a practical woman, and because it didn't make sense she didn't comment. She gave them all beans and potatoes for lunch. Bob ate in silence. Afterward he said, "Don't you kids go back up there without me."
    "Should you tell the sheriff?"
    "As soon as I get to town I'll do it."
    She was silent after that, going about her work. How slim she was, this woman who had been swayed by his love. He listened to her movements, the shuffle of her slippered feet, the occasional sigh.
    That afternoon he got a frozen-up windmill gear and had to spend a couple of hours working on it. Before he