Never Forget (2/2) (Adult Version)
Disclaimers: In Part One
This story contains explicit adult content. This is unrelated to any other stories of mine. This takes place 20 years after the bombs following Season Two. Spoilers for Season One and Season Two. Characters: Jake, Heather.
Never Forget (2/2)
"Don't forget to cut the edges off!" Rebecca reminded Jake as he closed the peanut butter and jelly sandwich he was preparing on the kitchen counter. She sat at the kitchen table next to John eating her breakfast of eggs and toast. He wondered how much of it she would eat that morning. At least several times a week, she declared she didn't like eggs and wouldn't eat them. Their story of talking about the time after the bombs when they didn't have much to eat had worked for John and Robbie when they were growing up, but Rebecca had dutifully reminded them that was a long time ago and she didn't have to eat everything on her plate. Robbie, on the other hand, had cleaned his plate in record time and was still nosing around the kitchen for more to eat as he waited for his second set of toast to pop out of the toaster. The boy had a endless pit for a stomach and was growing an inch a week, so Heather claimed.
"I know, I know!" Jake sipped coffee as he finished preparing lunches for Rebecca, Robbie and one for himself. He sliced the crusts off the sandwich that would be Rebecca's, thanking Heather for at least getting the kids to eat whole grain bread. He had made himself a half of a chicken salad sandwich, stealing some of Heather's chicken salad from the fridge. He needed to watch what he ate from now on, instead of the usual peanut butter and jelly. Maybe he should start packing a salad instead. He hated salad, but knew it was lower in calories. Heather, Mary and Mimi often talked about calories when they were together but he had never paid attention before. Maybe he needed to. He placed the sandwiches in plastic bags and placed them in their respective paper bags.
To his surprise, Robbie started helping him, placing apples, juice bags, and napkins in the paper bags. Jake wasn't sure, but he thought he saw him slipping cookies into his own lunch bag. Maybe Robbie would actually eat his lunch today if he had the cookies, Jake hoped. John had outgrown the lunch bag stage and preferred to eat the school lunches. Jake slipped two cookies into his own lunch sack. He wouldn't eat them unless he was still hungry, he told himself.
In between sips of coffee, he cleaned up the counter and placed the dirty dishes in the sink to be rinsed off before they got placed in the dishwasher. They didn't exactly have a neat kitchen. The counter was cluttered with appliances, snacks, storage containers, and several bins of catchall items, including the old-fashioned Post-It notes, pens and other items that hadn't found a home elsewhere in the house. His computer and keys were on the counter, waiting for him to pick them up before he walked out the door. The fridge was covered by magnets and several pictures and knick-knacks the kids had made over the years. Heather always dreaded when someone wanted to come to the house for a real interview, as they didn't have the pristine perfect house that one might expect of famous people, but Jake didn't really care or mind. It was clean, just cluttered most of the time no matter how many times Heather attempted to organize things. Maybe after the kids were grown up and gone it would be pristine.
The small television, mounted in the corner of the kitchen, broadcasted the local morning news out of Wichita talking about the fall weather forecast and progress of the end of harvest season. Most of the news didn't really apply to Jericho, Kansas, but it was nice and comfortable to listen to the morning news and not have to worry about things such as nuclear bombs and civil war any more.
Robbie sat back down at the table to eat his second helping of toast. Jake noticed that John was dragging his feet in eating his breakfast, having sat down last to eat after making breakfast for all of them that morning. He probably wanted to skip having to clean up. John wore his Boy Scout uniform today, as he often did on important days. They didn't even have to remind him. He knew what today meant as well. There were a number of badges on the front of the uniform. Jake wasn't quite sure who John took after, him or Heather. John looked more like him and had a rebellious streak that reminded him of himself, but had a seriousness and respect for responsibility that Jake was sure he got from Heather or maybe his own father. The boy was busy with school and had played baseball over the summer and was starting basketball practice soon, hoping to make the varsity team at Jericho High School that year. But he was also good in school, bringing home straight A's most of the time. Already, recruiters were sending him vmails offering him scholarships at colleges, many of them from as far as New York and California But like Jake, John seemed more inclined to want to stay near home. He had three more badges to go to become an Eagle Scout and had been working toward getting his pilot's license when they had money to buy him flying lessons. Jake worried that the boy was trying to do too much or would be stunted socially, yet he was well-respected at school but Jake wasn't sure if that was due to his famous parents or his easy-going personality. John also had a girlfriend, a red headed smart girl that reminded him a lot of April. John seldom gave them trouble and was the responsible older brother most of the time.
Robbie, on the other hand, was a little Jake-in-progress, often pushing the limits of his and Heather's patience, skipping school, getting in trouble, and struggling in school though they knew he was smart, he just didn't apply himself. Jake figured his father was looking down from heaven and laughing at him each time Robbie got caught again and they had had to discipline him more each time. It was worse for him being the sheriff's son and having to grow up in the shadow of his heroic parents and his responsible and talented older brother. They had already caught him smoking and trying to sneak drinks from their stash of alcohol. Heather liked to credit Robbie for all the gray hair she had been getting lately and had been leaving Robbie's discipline up to Jake, much to his chagrin as he remembered the many times his own father had tried to reason with him to make him grow up and pay attention. It hadn't really worked for Jake and he was pretty sure that no matter what they did, it really wouldn't work for Robbie. The best they could do is try and keep him from getting hurt and too out of control and hope that he grew out of it. Robbie looked more like his brother Eric, with auburn hair, yet with light skin like Heather's. He had her blue eyes as well.
Rebecca was a sweet little girl most of the time, spoiled rotten as John and Robbie liked to complain. She could be a little devil at times and made Heather and Jake laugh so much of the time, that they forgot to discipline her. It didn't help that his mother spoiled her and the other children as well. They had thought they were done having children, resigned to having two boys just like his parents had had but then Heather had realized that the nausea and cramping she had been having were not from an illness. Six months and a difficult pregnancy later, Rebecca had been born. She was like a little Heather in many ways, and liked to tinker with things and read books, and had a very active imagination. She was also taking after her mother by recording her own videos about her world and imaginary friends and the books she was reading. Her brown hair and blue eyes made her look just like Heather as well.
The television news continued to ramble on about hunting seasons that had started recently. It was all boring things mostly, unless you were from Kansas. Jake knew that Heather and others were often more involved with national and international news and events, but it had never really caught his interest anymore. He had had his share of excitement back when the bombs had gone off and in keeping the peace in Jericho. He did listen to the weather reports as usual, his interest peaked since he still flew on occasion, helping John with his flying lessons, taking Robbie flying, and sometimes taking Heather to Wichita to catch a connecting flight. They owned a small plane kept at the tiny Jericho Airport where his grandfather had once kept his cropduster planes.
"Archery season started last week, Dad," John said as he finished up his eggs. John was a better breakfast cook than Jake was and had offered to make breakfast that morning.
"I know," Jake replied. He had promised he would take John hunting that year when archery for deer season had opened up. John had learned archery in Boy Scouts. Jake had done a little archery hunting with his dad when he was about John's age, but had never been really good at it. He preferred guns.
"So can we go this weekend?"
"We'll see," Jake answered, taking another big swallow of coffee. "We gotta fix the fence down by the creek."
But he saw the crestfallen expression fall over his eldest son's face.
"But if you can help me fix that on Sunday, we can go hunting Saturday morning..." His son's face lit up. "If.... if it's okay with your mom and you finish your English paper by Friday."
"Mrs. Hammond said it wasn't due til Monday." John reminded him.
It was still odd hearing Emily called Mrs. Hammond. Emily had gone back to teaching after she and Roger had gotten married. Roger had taken over the Liberty Bank on Main Street and was an active member in the church and served on Jericho's city council. "Then you better get it done by Friday so you'll have time for hunting and helping out here."
Jake had been looking forward to sleeping in on Saturday, but he had learned long ago that once you had kids, you never got to sleep in any more. He packed Rebecca's lunch in her backpack and reached for his own plate of eggs and sausage again, his food having gone cold while he packed lunches and cleaned up. At least his coffee was still hot.
"Can I go with you?" Robbie asked, surprising Jake. The boy had never really been interesting in hunting or fishing, though he occasionally went with them. He was often more hindrance than help, making noise when he got restless and complaining much of the time about how long it took and that he would rather be home watching television or playing computer games. He did like flying however, picking up flying quicker than his older brother had, reminding Jake a lot of himself when his grandfather had taught him how to fly. Jake was learning to spend time with his middle son in different ways than John, taking him flying or out to arcades and other interactive entertainment. He was learning that the more time he spent with Robbie, the better he behaved. Jake just wished he had more time. It was hard when you were sheriff and married to a national celebrity.
"Do you even know where your old bow is?" Jake asked, leaning back against the counter as he finished his breakfast. He was pretty sure the little bow that Robbie had had would be too small for him now. The boy had grown nearly a foot in the past year.
"No," John answered for his brother. "He broke the one I gave him last year."
"Did not! I don't want your stuff anyway." Robbie yelled at his brother. Robbie hated getting his older brother's hand me downs all the time. He was also know for lying, a habit they were trying to break. He turned to Jake. "Can I get my own bow this year, Dad? Please?"
"Robbie, we'll see." Jake began, knowing he'd need to check with Heather on their budget. They were trying to save enough money for college for all three kids, pay off the mortgage on the house, save for retirement and save enough to buy a new car. She made considerable money with her talk show and he had a modest salary as sheriff. They had royalties from Heather's e-books and from the movies they had made about what had happened with the bombs, but it still never seemed to be enough, especially since income and property taxes were so high as they had been since things had settled down after the war. The United States government owed billions of dollars in reparations to Iran and North Korea and were still trying to rebuild from the bombs and war. Maybe he could find a used bow for Robbie, however, if it didn't cost too much. Heather might be able to find one online.
"It's Rob!" His middle son reminded him. He hated the name Robbie ever since he had turned into a teenager, though he liked being named after the famous Robert Hawkins.
"Robbie, Robbie, Robbie!" Rebecca gleefully teased her brother from her seat at the table.
"Shut up, brat!" Robbie yelled at his sister.
"Robert Eric!" Jake yelled and Robbie had the foresight to looked surprised and guilty. Jake placed his dirty plate and fork in the sink, reaching for his coffee again. This morning was becoming just like any other day. "Apologize to your sister."
John raised his eyebrows and said nothing, scraping his fork over his plate. He did look a little tired, Jake noticed when he looked closely. He wondered if John had really gone to bed when he was supposed to.
"Sorry," the boy mumbled. Robbie pulled his computer out of a pocket and began playing one of his games on it.
Rebecca looked at Jake as she started to protest at the sad attempt at an apology, but Jake just shook his head at her to not complain. He noticed that she still hadn't eaten much of her breakfast. "Finish your breakfast, Princess. You gotta leave in five minutes."
He leaned back against the counter again and glanced up at the television. The news anchor showed footage of the memorial service being held in the new Capitol of Columbus, with the president and military present along with thousands of people, including the press. He wondered if Robert Hawkins was there. His daughter Allison had become an FBI Agent and his son has joined the military, becoming a Navy Seal. Robert had gone back to working for the CIA, becoming promoted several times and helping root out the last vestiges of Jennings and Rall and others who had ties to terrorism and anarchism in the government. Now he was on the verge of being named head of the CIA.
Rebecca's face lit up as she looked past Jake. "Mommy!"
Heather entered the kitchen, her hair still tousled from sleep and her eyes looking sleepy. She hadn't put on any make up yet, which Jake loved, but knew that she hated not having her face on before she had to see people or do video chats or interviews. She wore her old bathrobe tied at the waist. Heather used to be a morning person, but age was catching up with both of them. He tried to let her sleep as much as possible.
"Lunches done? Breakfast? Chores?" Heather cheerfully asked their children and there were nods all around. Heather was always better at organizing things around at the house. She smiled proudly at John, gave Robbie's shoulder a rub, then stopped to pat Rebecca affectionately on the head. "You did good with your hair this morning, sweetheart."
Rebecca beamed. Heather had been teaching her to brush her hair and put ribbons and barrettes in it to change up the style. Heather's own hair style changed off and on over the years, usually styled in the latest cut. Now, it was shoulder length with reddish highlights that Heather claimed looked better in videos. He could see the beginning of her gray roots again and made a mental note to remind her so she could color her hair again.
At last, Heather got to him.
"Mornin', my love," Heather kissed him on the lips as she passed by, close enough that he felt the softness of a thigh brushing against him.
"Yuck, kisses." Rebecca scrunched up her face at them.
"They were doing more than that last night." Robbie informed them and Jake could have sworn that Heather blushed. Even after all these years. she could still blush. John just rolled his eyes and finally got up to place his dishes in the sink. John was nearly as tall as Jake now, and nearly weighed as much as him as well. John didn't have the skinny leanness that had plagued Jake when he was younger.
Heather poured herself a cup of coffee and he watched as she made it up how she liked it, with a little cream from the fridge and artificial sweetener. She gave him a smoldering look over the rim of her cup as she drank it, smiling at Jake. He knew what that look meant. They had been interrupted last night. His buddy had noticed as well.
"John, take Robbie and Becky to school." He ordered his son, glancing up at the clock on the wall. Normally, Jake would drop them off at school while John drove his own car to the high school. The Jericho schools liked seeing the sheriff's car when he drove up to drop off his kids each day. Today... he could be a little late to work.
"Dad...." John began to protest. He hated having to cart his siblings around, but that was one of the conditions Jake had given him when he had given his son his old Plymouth Roadrunner to use. The car was still in shape after all these years from all the attention he and Heather had once given it, and now since John worked on it with Jake. It was a vintage car now. Jake remembered when he had gotten it back from Jonah. Jonah was dead now, having been arrested and tried for war crimes not long after the Civil War had ended. He had died in prison. Not everyone from the Civil War time had had a happy ending.
"Please?" He didn't take his eyes off Heather, watching the graceful way she leaned over to pick Rebecca's backpack off the floor. "I'm running late for a meeting at City Hall with the mayor to talk about the services today."
"But Uncle Eric is the mayor. He won't mind if you're late." Robbie spoke up as he grabbed his own backpack.
"That doesn't mean you show up late," John told his brother. "Come on you, two."
Jake heard the displeasure in his son's voice. but he knew John would do as he was told. John grabbed his backpack and herded his younger siblings toward the door.
"Love you all." Heather kissed each on the cheek as they filed past. John looked annoyed but let his mother kiss him.
"Daddy too?" Rebecca looked expectantly up at Jake with those big blue eyes of hers.
"Daddy loves all of you, too!" Jake crouched down to grab his daughter's small hand and kiss it softly on the back, like the princes did to the princesses in her movies and books. She gave him the biggest smile, a smile that showed a missing front tooth. He couldn't help but to smile back, holding back a laugh. He had had a tough time in the beginning showing affection to his children. His own father had never been very affectionate. But Heather had taught him to be more open with his feelings and showing their children how much they meant to him. As he stood up, he rubbed Robbie affectionately on the head before the boy pulled away and even gave John a side hug and kiss into his eldest son's hair. They all needed haircuts soon but he doubted they would have time before tonight.
"Call if you need me," he reminded his oldest son, but knew the others heard as well. They each had their own computers with phones, but he knew Robbie had been using his to video chat with girls lately. The calls had been showing up on their bill. "And only me or your mom or Grandma."
"Have a good day at school," Heather told them, her love for their children in her voice. It was just one more thing he loved about her. "And don't forget about tonight! Be home on time!"
They usually took the school bus home, but since it came by so early in the morning, he usually took them to school instead of having them spend an hour on the bus each morning and having to get up earlier. But occasionally, Robbie or John would stay after school for clubs or practices, giving them a call to let them know that they would be late and if they needed a ride.
The door shut behind the kids and silence fell in the house. A few seconds later, he heard the rumble of the Plymouth Roadrunner starting up outside, its engine being revved then the sound of tires spinning over gravel as the car drove down the driveway.
"Do you really have a meeting with Eric?" Heather asked, reaching for his nearly empty coffee cup and taking it out of his hands to set it on the counter next to him.
"No." He raised his eyebrows at his wife.
"Thought so. I seem to recall that our adorable daughter interrupted something rather important last night." Heather purred suggestively, brushing up against him.
"I wonder what that would be...." His cock was instantly hard. He did still have what it took after all. He kissed her hard, untying the belt of her bathrobe, pulling it back from her shoulders. "So, were we here yet?"
"Nuh-uh." Heather murmured against his lips.
"Hmmm," he mumbled back, their tongues tangling. He could taste coffee and sweetener and cream as he explored her mouth with his tongue. He ran his hand up her thigh and under her nightgown, stroking the curve of her hip. "How about here?"
Heather shook her head, turning her mouth away from his, so he trailed kisses down her cheek, her chin and down her neck to her throat, finding the rapid pulse at the base of her throat.
He turned them about so Heather's back was against the counter instead, his hips pressing hard against her, holding her in place. He ground his hips against hers, feeling her spread her legs a little farther apart, giving access to his hand as he moved his fingers between her legs. She didn't wear panties when she slept.
"There!" Heather moaned. His fingers found her lower lips and stroked her, feeling her heat and dampness against his fingers. She whispered his name. "Jake!"
"Hmm, are you sure it was there?" Heather bucked against him as his finger found her clit.
"Mmmmm hmmmm," Heathr moaned in a higher voice. "God, yes!"
He began to stroked her clit. "Count."
Heather shook her head, biting her lip as she usually did when he did this. Her eyes were closed.
He stroked her, soft at first, then harder. He counted for them with each stroke of his finger tip across her hard nub. "Three.. four... five..."
And harder yet, feeling her rocking against his hand. Between strokes, he probed her gently with his middle finger, finding her slit and diving inside her, looking for that spot that he knew would drive her wild. He found it on stroke six. He used his middle finger to stroke deep inside her then his forefinger to stroke her clit one more time. He loved doing this to her.
"Seven!" He proclaimed and was rewarded with Heather shuddering hard against his hand, her body trembling against him as she moaned loudly, orgasm rocking her body. Watching the pleasure cross her face was more than reward enough seeing how her features softened, and the crinkle of the first wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and the unfurrowing of her brow and then the smoldering look of fulfillment as her eyes slowly opened to gaze up at him, love and delight in her eyes. She was panting softly as she stared up at him.
Heather pulled his head toward hers, his lips meeting hers. Her thanks was heartfelt as he felt her reaching for his belt. It took a couple of tries for them to unfasten it, the new notch in his belt a bit tighter than usual, but in seconds, the front of his pants was open and she was reaching inside to pull his hard cock out. The cool air of the kitchen hit him but he barely felt it before her fingers were wrapped around him, stroking him up and down nearly making him cum right there. He kissed her hard until they were both breathless. His hand found a bare breast under her nightgown, squeezing it lightly, his thumb stroking her hard nipple.
And then he was lifting her up on the counter only to lower her back down as he thrust deep inside her. She cried out, loud enough to be heard outside. He prayed that the children were long gone.
It was as good as coming home from his long time away. They fit together so well, so perfectly, his cock sinking deep inside her. He could feel the slight give as the uncommon angle was a bit different for both of them, but it felt so amazing, he quickly forgot about it as he lifted her thighs to hold her in place on the counter, her legs wrapping around his waist to pull him deep inside her with each thrust. Her inner muscles clamped down on him hard between thrusts, making him nearly go off then and there.
Her fingers were in his hair, her hot breath whispering in his ear, encouraging him with dirty words that would have shocked him normally, but this was his Heather, in the heat and throes of passion. In under a minute, he felt his peak coming quickly. He looked at Heather then, capturing her eyes and momentarily distracted by how beautiful she looked, enraptured and in his arms, joined with him.
"Heather?!" He wanted to wait for her first.
Her hand cupped his face. "Cum for me, love!"
And he did. Two more thrusts and he came hard and fast, and with more pleasure than he had remembered in a long time, waves of orgasm seizing him with each slowing thrust, crying out at the power of the pleasure, until it was over. He slowly opened his eyes to see Heather watching him, a loving expression on her face. They both were panting. He felt the sweat down his back and Heather's warm, moist skin where they touched and through the thin fabric of her nightgown. Her core was hot and wet around him. His legs were weak and his back hurt but he didn't care. Languor and a heady sense of spent passion filled his mind and limbs now.
"Mmmm. I love seeing you like this." Heather was the first to speak. "We need to do that more often."
"Heh," He was still trying to catch his breath. The scent of sex and Heather filled his senses. He brushed a wayward lock of hair from her face and tenderly kissed her.
"Did you...?" he asked when he broke off the kiss. Heather didn't always get off from penetrative sex anymore, but she claimed that the manual and oral sex was enough and that she always enjoyed feeling him inside her.
Heather shook her head and stroked his clean-shaven jaw with her thumb. "It's okay, baby. I love having you deep inside me."
"And I love being here." He was still inside her, growing soft, but he hated to leave. Then they would both have to wake up to reality. He wanted to stay in this moment, joined with Heather, in mind and spirit. Especially today of all days.
"But I suppose someone should get to work." Heather sighed, her fingers tracing his upper lip. She was always the practical one. "Busy day today."
He kissed her again, strong at first, then softening it to a sweet and tender kiss again. At the end, he withdrew from her, doublechecking the front of his slacks. While Heather disappeared to clean herself up in the downstairs bathroom, he cleaned himself off and zipped things back into place, discarding the paper towels he used in the trash. At least they didn't have to worry about condoms or birth control any longer. He grabbed his keys and computer from the counter. Passionate memories filling his thoughts, he finished up his now cold coffee and headed to the living room to unlock the drawer where he kept his gun, badge and handcuffs. The children never touched his things, but he liked to be safe and set a good example for gun safety. Their hunting rifles were locked up in a gun cabinet in the basement. He heard Heather returning to the kitchen as he clipped the last item, the handcuff case to his belt. His gun was at his right hip, his badge pinned to the front of his uniform. Fortunately, they didn't use radios anymore, using their computers to talk, though they still had radios at the police office in case of emergencies.
"Oh, so official now," Heather teased him as she walked out of the kitchen carrying his lunch.
"I try." He smiled back at her. She knew how difficult it had been for him at first, feeling trapped down by a uniform, badge and all the other accoutrements that went with his job.
"Don't share your lunch again today, I wrote you a little note." She handed him the paper bag containing the lunch he had packed. He wondered if she had noticed the cookies he had put in there too. She had been after him to cut down on sweets.
"Oh? What kind of note?" He asked. She often sent him vmail messages and video messages, but they didn't do or say anything too risky as the kids were often better at accessing and using their computers than they were. He sent her at least two or three vmail messages a day, usually just text messages, and usually talked to her on the phone at least once a day. Like phone calls, handwritten notes were becoming old-fashioned now. "Not a vmail?"
"A naughty note." She smiled slyly at him and patted the front of this pants. His buddy almost woke up again.
He began to open the bag but she stopped him.
"Save it for lunch!" She kissed him passionately, a lingering kiss that left him wanting her all over again.
"I love you, Heather Green." His girl, his lover, his wife. His Heather. He wished he had been been alert enough to write her a note in return. Then again, she might have missed it and one of the kids would likely find it. He had already had the birds and bees talk with John and it had been hard and embarrassing. He wasn't looking forward to having that talk with Robbie. At least they went to church and had some sense of morality that they had been trying to instill in their children.
"And I love you, hero of Jericho."
"I thought you were the hero?" He teased her back. It was a common jest between them.
"You get the title today. Go out there and protect, Mr. Sheriff."
"I'll call you later." He was glad they had pre-taped all of the interviews for today and had turned down any requests for live interviews. He wanted to spend the day alone today, with his family, thinking about what had happened twenty years ago. He owed his father that much. His father used to hate publicity.
"Two o'clock break?" She suggested. Heather's radio show had so many callers, even he had trouble getting a hold of her sometimes. They had a separate computer program for her show callers, but Heather often missed her private calls until after the show unless she made a point to watch for it. She usually watched for his calls, however.
He nodded.
"Today's going to be a hard show to do." Heather eyes met his, remembering.
"I know. I'll be with you in spirit, as always." Jake pulled her into his arms again, feeling her soft curves against him.
"And tonight?" Heather whispered against his shoulder.
"I'll be home in time for dinner then we should probably head over there for the ceremony. " Jake told her, his voice starting to break, memories coursing over him. He didn't want to think about that, not yet. "Tell the kids to dress up. Mom will like that."
Heather nodded and he pulled away, kissing her softly on forehead as he squeezed her hand one last time.
Then he was gone, jumping into his patrol car and heading into work, warm memories of his beautiful wife and wonderful children on his mind.
Several hours of e-paperwork later, Jake found himself like he usually did for lunch, out on patrol, driving past the schools right before lunch hour to make sure nothing odd was going on. As noon approached, he drove his car out of town, heading in the direction of one of his favorite lunch spots, a quiet stretch of road near the Richmond farm. Stanley would be hard at work on the farm, but he wouldn't stop by without a good reason. They would see Stanley and Mimi and their brood again tonight anyway. A few cars drove past on the road in front of him, but he didn't even bother to check his speed checking program on his computer. Just parking his sheriff's car here was enough to make people watch their speed. One of the cars slowed and parked in the parking area across the road from him, several people getting out of the car. He knew where they were going. There had been quite a few people coming and going at this spot all morning.
He bit into his sandwich and turned up the radio, listening to the last commercial breaks before Heather's radio show began. His computer, now plugged into his police car, had Heather's program cued up to start as usual. He often listened to her show, a nationally syndicated show that drew over ten million listeners a day. She had already received many awards, including a Marconi award and many awards for the charitable work she and her show had done on the behalf of those affected by the bombs and those who had fought in the war. She was a big advocate for veterans and they were still fairly close with General Beck and his wife Elizabeth, who served on several committees that helped out veterans, especially those who had served in the Second Civil War. There had been a movement a few years ago to get rid of radio all together since most information now flowed over the I-Net and wireless networks, but the old-timers had reminded people of the bombs and EMP when most electronics had been rendered useless. Radio was still cheap and easy and Heather had been behind a movement to keep radio and other technologies more resistant to EMPs and other natural disasters so that towns would not be out of touch again like they had been during the bombs. They now had fault tolerant systems with more backup systems than Jake could keep track of, including their emergency and main computer systems at the Jericho City Hall and sheriff's office. Fortunately, they had younger people who were able to keep all these things up and running.
The opening lines of Ray Charles singing 'America the Beautiful' started on the radio, the opening song to Heather's show. They let the song play long today as the opener.
"Good afternoon, America!" Heather's strong voice carried across the radio and across the airwaves to hundreds of radio stations around the country and across the Internet. "Do you now what today is? Do you remember? Do your children remember?"
Jake remembered, all too well.
Heather was a bit flamboyant and over the top when it came to her radio personality. That was part of her charm, the girl next door, the sweet, good American girl who had grown up into a caring and passionate mother and wife. Only Jake really knew that she was still a quiet, shy woman with amazing depths of passion. On the radio, she was outgoing and even a bit antagonistic, not standing for 'spin' as politicians often did, or for people misrepresenting the truth or being critical of their country and freedom. She was known as a straight talker and for asking her guests and callers to do the same. And people loved her for it. But Jericho still knew her as Heather Green, the sheriff's wife. They all rolled their eyes when they talked about her national radio show, even when people often came to town just to see where Heather lived and worked and where everything that had happened after the bombs had occurred. Fortunately, the Jericho Historical Society dealt with most of the tourists fairly well with tours and exhibits that you had to pay a nice price for. The tourism industry had done well for Jericho too.
"Twenty years ago today, America Stood Still as nuclear bombs exploded, killing millions, destroying cities and capitals, destroying lives and nearly destroying freedom as we knew it." Jake could hear the depth of emotion in Heather's voice and knew that she was close to tears. "Do you remember? Do you remember? Have you forgotten? Have you forgotten 9/11? Have you forgotten Vietnam? Have you forgotten World Wars One and Two? The Cold War? The Civil Wars?"
Quiet came across the radio for several seconds and Jake worried, then Heather continued. "Have you forgotten the confusion? The dead and dying? The crime, the loss of power, the lack of food and medicine? Neighbors attacking each other?"
Memories came flooding back to Jake as he knew it would. He had been bracing himself, trying to forget until the right moment today. Now, he let the floodgate open, his emotions mixing with the memories now. He found his own tears gathering behind his eyes.
"Broadcasting live from Jericho, Kansas, the home of the Second Revolution, the City That Survived, this is Heather Green, the Voice of the Resistance and the Ongoing Voice of Freedom and Liberty. Call us today, at 1-800-FRE-EDOM. Our topics today will only be about remembering and reflecting on what happened twenty years ago today. No talk about politics and why it happened, just about us, remembering all those who died that day, our stories, and about how we all worked together to stand together against all odds to come back together to once again be the country that deals with its problems and puts things to right, taking care of its people and restoring freedom to its people and all those around the world. You've already been posting your stories on our I-Net site but now I want to hear your stories live, so that we can all hear them and remember together. I'll play a few of those that have already been posted. Where were you when it happened? We'll get started right after these messages from those who help pay our bills."
He remembered where he had been that day.
The program broke to a brief commercial break as Jake finished his sandwich and reached for the apple in his paper sack. Apple or cookies? He would rather have the cookies but reached for the apple. He could save the cookies for later.
He was proud of Heather. The sound of her voice and her message was inspiring, as it often was. People called her the Rush Limbaugh of modern history, a liberal and conservative voice all together in one. Heather was an independent, not a Democrat or Republican, though both parties still existed and were often trying to pin her down to their side. There had been movements in recent years to add another party to the current American political structure, as the current two main parties and other smaller parties weren't really grabbing the support of many citizens. Thus, why Jake had never quite decided to run for office. He couldn't figure out what party he would run as and he wasn't sure he wanted to do it as an Independent. Besides, he was pretty content with his life now, a sheriff job that didn't require much work and a beautiful wife and family. He couldn't have imagined such contentment in his life twenty years ago when everything had gone to hell.
He stared out the front window of his patrol car, remembering the past years, just under twenty years ago, when the town of Jericho had gathered right here to stage a last stand against the invading New Bern. The tank had come over the nearby hill, just over to his left where a big oak tree still stood. His father had been walking along side it, carrying a gun. They had only had one mortar however. If they had had more, the battle would have gone better. But they had been outgunned and his father had been shot by ricochet fire, dying on the table inside the Richmond house. Jake took another bite out of his apple, lost in memories, remembering the sound of gunfire, explosions and the military coming to put a stop to it all.
The commercial break was over as the standard voice announced Heather's show again followed by bumper music. Heather's voice came over the radio again. "You know what I love today, Mike?"
"No, what?" Mike asked, sounding uncertain. "Freedom?"
Mike was Heather's program manager, helping coordinate her program, screen her calls and help with the technical aspects of the show. He often filled in with comments during her show. They had gotten together with Mike and his wife and children several times in the past years. Jake bit into his apple again.
"Well, I always love that and liberty. But today, " Heather's voice on the radio stated. "Today, I love my kitchen."
Jake nearly choked on his apple, remembering exactly what had happened in their kitchen that morning. His body hummed at the memory as well. Heather rarely talked about him or their relationship or children on air, though many people asked about them on and off the air. She never really said much other than saying they were doing great and she loved all of them.
"I thought you hated cooking," Mike replied. Mike had come to know Heather fairly well over the years, but had never given Jake much cause for jealousy. Heather called him the brother she had never had.
Heather did hate cooking, though she was all right at it. She was the master of quick and easy meals but was known for losing track of time and overcooking things and occasionally misusing spices. But they usually had good, healthy dinners. Jake often helped out with dinner as well, though his preference was barbecuing when he could.
"Oh, I do, but this morning was a great day in my kitchen." Heather said mysteriously. She had to know he was listening. He usually was, at least for her opening monologue. Else, she would make him watch and listen to it later, wanting to know what he thought. He wondered what the live videocast showed, with Heather behind a microphone in her studio. He would have loved to have seen her face right then. He didn't have time to bring it up on this computer. It always took him too long to figure out how to do it. "And there's more than cookin' you can do in the kitchen."
Jake laughed remembering the look of passion on her face as she had come hard in his hand. Then he remembered the note she had said she had put into his lunch. Digging into the paper sack beside him, he found it, a yellow Post-It note with her scribbled handwriting on it.
I love you deep inside me and can't wait until you are there again. Love, H.
It made him smile and tingle with remembered passion. Heather often left him little private notes or vmails and he loved to surprise her with little things like flowers, an e-book or tickets to a show or the best one yet, a private vacation to Mexico last year for their anniversary.
"Your kitchen, huh?" Mike innocently laughed, having no idea what Heather was talking about to the entire country. Jake knew though.
"Yes, my kitchen." Jake heard the mirth and passion in Heather's voice, even over the radio. He loved her, the private message was meant for him and him alone. He couldn't wait to talk to her at two o'clock. "Now back to our topic of the day and for the next three hours. The Day America Stood Still. Never, ever forget. Your calls coming up. First up, the memorial service at Columbus today..."
Heather went into describing the memorial service today and many of the services being held all over the country and world. They had observed a moment of silence that day at 9:02am at City Hall, to honor the time the power had gone off with the EMP. They would have another moment of silence after eight that night for the time when the bombs had actually gone off and another at 9:02pm.
Jake Green looked out his windshield at the memorial in front of his police car. There was a crowd there today, with many people still coming and going, old and young alike. Many people he recognized and others he didn't. They had had a memorial service that morning at this spot, with military and Mayor Eric Green leading the service, talking about what had happened twenty years ago that day. His mother had been there along with Mary, Stanley and Mimi and many others who had lived during that time. Gray Anderson had passed away several years ago and they had added a private marker for him alongside the wall that now stood, a marble wall similar to the Vietnam Memorial that had once stood in Washington D.C. listing all Jericho resident's who had died when the bombs had gone off and in the time that had passed throughout the Second Civil War. Bonnie Richmond's name was there along with Scott Rennie, the former sheriff and deputies, those who had died at the Battle with New Bern including his father, and many of those who had died the day of the bombs or had never returned home, like Dale Turner's mother. The base of the wall was covered with flowers, mementos and letters. At night, beams of light shined on the wall and straight up into the sky, a memorial to all that had fallen. He could see it up in the sky when he flew his plane at night, a constant reminder of all that happened.
Jake came here often to reflect and remember those days. He knew his mother and Eric did as well. Heather would be with him later for the night memorial service, a candlelight service that they planned to hold at this spot. He would bring his children and tell them the stories again, ones they often grew tired of hearing but he never stopped telling them, about how the world had changed that day, about their grandfather, about Robert Hawkins, about the battle with New Bern, about Bonnie Richmond and Major Beck, about how Jericho had come together to survive during the roughest time in known history.
America and Jericho would never forget.
Johnston Jacob Green Sr.'s name was on that wall. His father, who's dying words were 'I'm proud of you,' words Jake had been longing to hear all his life. As he had told him the day of Eric's wedding. 'One day, I know you're gonna become the man I know you can be, the man you were born to be. My God, that day's gonna be something to see.'
I am, Dad. I am.
Tears streamed down his cheeks and he hoped no one came over to talk to him until he pulled himself together.
Jake Green would never forget either.
The End