Chapter Eight

Gus turned his laptop back toward him as he began searching through his pictures library for a favorite old picture of himself, Carlo, and Marshall Velder taken at a basketball game when they were all freshmen in High School.

“I remember a lot of our history, although there is some that I would rather forget”, Gus said as he swiveled the laptop back toward Carlo. “Do you remember these 'Bleacher Bum' T-shirts that you and Marshall used to wear?”

Carlo beamed in delight seeing that old picture. “Where did you get that picture? That is awesome. Did you scan it in, and can you get it to me on a flash drive?”

“I can email it to you, Carlo.”

“I don't have email anymore, Gus. You shouldn't either. The National Security Agency reads all of that stuff now, and I don't trust that. But, I would like to have a copy of that picture. Just put it on a stick drive, and we can print out a hardcopy over at Walgreen's tomorrow. Hey, check you out in that 'Pekin Chinks' T-Shirt.”

“Yeah, that was unfortunate. That is part of what I am trying to forget ever happened.” Gus wasn't the only one who wore a Chinks shirt back in 1974. Everyone did. That was the name of the athletic teams at Pekin High School back when they were in school. It was a legacy of the town founder Major Nathan Cromwell – the guy that had owned the indentured servant Black Nance, come to think about it – who let his wife name the town. She had a particular fascination with the Orient, and with China, and she named the town after the capitol of China – Peking. She dropped the 'G' for some reason, and named the new city Pekin. Gus remembered the various Oriental influences that he grew up with in the 'Celestial City' of Pekin. He learned to love movies at the downtown Pekin Theater, which had an oriental theme and statues of the Buddha adorning the walls. Good times. He had no idea when in the history of the town the sports teams became known as the Chinks, but there it was on the bottom of the scoreboard each time he went to a football game – Home of the Chinks. Gus remembered vividly back in 1974 when the Chinese American society came to Pekin and asked the high school to change the name. The school board put it to a student vote and the vote was no. What did kids know? It was just the word that came after Pekin, and outsiders were asking them to change it. No. It wasn't until the 1980's when a new Superintendent looked at the big red dragon adorning the gym floor and said 'we're the Dragons'.

“You know, there are still a lot of diehards in town that will always be the Chinks, right”, Carlo said – reading Gus's mind.

“Yeah. That's not me. The change was the decent thing to do, and I am glad that someone did it. Did you know that you can find our school if you do a Google search for 'worst high school mascots'? Is that what you want our town to be known for?”

“There are worse things to be known for. I have to think that our founders didn't mean ill will by it. But who knows? Yeah, I'm with you on changing it.”

“But that's not what you were asking me if I remember. You were asking if I remember the great coal mine adventure that the three of us inadvertently embarked on. Yes, I do. That little stunt scared the daylights out of me – not that there was any daylight in the coal mine. Do you remember if it was you or Marshall who found the opening to the coal mine?”

Carlo flipped over an empty Coleman ice cooler that Gus had left in the empty house and pulled it up over by the breakfast counter where Gus was now surfing the internet again. There were stories to tell. “Oh, I found it there at the base of the hill that I walked up to the high school one day. I was throwing a ball as I walked, and threw it over by some trees. When I went over to get it, I saw the mine opening - which wasn't as big as I would have thought it was. I was curious, of course, and I went down into it for a little way. But, there wasn't any light in there and I didn't know what was down there, so I left. I sneaked a flashlight out of my dad's toolbox the next day, and talked you and Marshall into going down there with me. That was before Marshall got on the basketball team and started hanging out with your brother Dieter more than with us. I lost track of him after he went off to Chicago after high school. I didn't see him at any reunions, I don't think anyway, and lost track of him until he called me last year to hire me for some work leading to building his new-microbrewery next too your motel, which is near where that mine opening was.”

“The micro-brewery will be an interesting tie-in to the brewery history on the river. I don't drink much, last night's foolishness notwithstanding, so I won't be there much. But, there's a market for that sort of thing, I think, as long as it's not too upscale and pricey. The recession is still going and people aren't exactly flush with cash.”

“Believe me, Gus” Carlo offered, “Marshall knows that big time and has plans for hooch all across the price points. There will be prime brand names on tap, and some of his homebrew beer coming out of the kettles. Don't tell anyone that I told you, but there might even be some shine coming out of the back door at bottom dollar. Mass produced even. For the recession-hit market, let's say.”

“Is that what the kettles in customs are for?”, Gus asked?

“Ah, I've said too much already. Hey, do you remember Marshall freaking out when we got to the main chamber and it sounded like it was going to be a cave-in? He ran shrieking out of the mine.”

Gus was almost falling off of the breakfast counter laughing his kiester off now. “I was wanting to run out right behind him. I know that I saw some dirt falling in your flashlight beam. I thought that mine was coming in right on top of us for sure. If it had been one of those shaft mines, I would have never gone down there. No way. But you talked me into going down the slope into those rooms off of the main passage. I wonder how much coal they pulled out of that mine over the years to make all of those rooms. A lot, I'm guessing. That was my German ancestors hauling that stuff out of there. I could feel them in there in the dark with us. Spirits anyway. Can you imagine how claustrophobic it must have felt riding those cars down that slope with just the light on your helmet? I can't. I would have freaked out. Did you ever tell anybody what we found?”

“No, I didn't. I don't know if anyone else ever found it. I know that they closed up the entrance at some point after then, but I don't know when.”

“Maybe we could go look for the opening again while I have the week off.”

“Not possible”, Carlo said, “or a good idea, I think. But, hey that is not the only crazy adventures that we had back in high school. Do you remember any of the other things that we got into after Marshall forgot all about us? I remember one. How about when we broke into the West Campus and went through the utility tunnels and ran around through the halls on a Saturday?”

“I do indeed. Of course that would be easier now that the West Campus building is closed boarded up. We could run around in there to our hearts content and no one would ever see us.” Gus thought about the magnificent old building near James Field that was a sore spot in the town. It served as the sole high school in a growing town until the baby boom overwhelmed it's size. Instead of having two competing high schools in town, a two-campus system was devised. The new building became the East Campus, housing the Juniors and Seniors, while the West Campus served the freshmen and sophomores. Gus had come in the “Boys Entrance” in 1974 and done his two years there before going up the hill to finish his high school experience. Every time that he drove past the boarded-up West Campus, he marveled at the ornate craftsmanship of the building – compared to the functional concrete box that served as the design for the East Campus. How did they build them so much better back in that time period? Were they better builders? Were bricks that much cheaper? His children had gone to a much lesser experience at just one boring campus. “Did you hear that they are getting close to tearing down the West Campus building altogether, Carlo? Sad, really. How do they have buildings in Europe that are hundreds of years old, and we can't even save one that is less than a hundred years old? It's probably not save-able with the asbestos laws and lawsuits, but still. It's just sad.”

“Hey, do you remember when we used to cut across the railroad tracks down by the grain plants and party at that fire-pit in that stretch of woods between the tracks and the river? There was a beach there that the boaters used. I remember passing out on that beach at least one Friday night after Dieter got us some beer. Of course, the drinking age was 18 back then and Dieter could get it. I'm surprised that he gave you any though, Gus. But you Germans love beer, and I got the benefit of that. I wonder if that fire-pit in the woods is still there, or if it got washed out when the river went out of it's banks last month. I know that FEMA was evacuating some folks up the tracks from there.”

“Man, Carlo, those are some good memories. We sure found some trouble back then. It's a good thing that more trouble didn't find us. I hope Marshall comes back this week for the class reunion. I'd like to see him and hear how he remembers that coal mine story. I wonder if we're telling it right after all of these years. When is he coming to town?”

“Mid-week some time. He's not sure yet. It depends on when he can get away from his business dealings there, I guess.”

“Have you got all of the measurements that you need for the repair work, Carlo?”

“I do, I think. I've got enough that we can go buy the material tomorrow. Let's get out of here today and go shoot at the range. I could use some fun poking holes in paper with hot lead.”

“Let's go do it then.” Gus closed up the house and followed Carlo out of town toward the gun range.