Level Zero by Dan McDowell (books that read to you TXT) 📕

‘Hey, gramps… you need us to change you at night? Pretty sure we hear you getting up at least six or seven times a night to relieve yourself. Do you want to tell us what it was like growing up in the Abraham Lincoln administration?’

‘That’s enough. I’ll have you know, I am in a position to one day take over this entire platoon before your extremities are even mature.’

‘Shut up, old man. You don’t know what you’re talking about. I bet you’re shriveled up like an old raisin.’

The men got a little wound up that night. Beds flipped over. Windows broken. Holes in the sheetrock. The cadets were all roaring and howling, louder and louder by the second. The lieutenant was out late, and me and the mostly twenty something group took advantage of our extended liberties.

It didn’t take long before I was in the middle of a good ‘ol fashioned brawl. Here I am twenty-four years this little guy’s senior. I knew better, but I couldn’t hold back. He dogged me one time too many, and I couldn’t take it. Johnny stood there front and center as the others pushed the remaining beds that weren’t flipped over flush to one another and against the walls to make room in the middle as they circled around. I dropped Johnny to the floor. We wrestled and fought for several minutes as the grunts and yells got louder and louder. Props in this… battle for manhood were not a bunch of smoke and mirrors like you see on TV; it was all real. Young versus old, but for some reason, the boys seemed to cheer for me like I was their old man.

‘Yeah, I’ll put down ten on the old timer,’ one man said.

‘Me too,’ another called out.

Another barely sober one made the dumbest joke I can recall, ‘I’ll bet he falls down and starts the menopause before it’s all said and done.’

Some of the more plastered cadets laughed, but the rest just looked at him, agreeing the alcohol made him stupid. I tried to script out my moves to shut the twerp up. Annoying little piss-ant stood 5’3 and weighed 140 pounds. You’ve seen me. I’m hunched over and frail now, but in those days, 6’3 and 220 looked good on me. I had decades of southern cooking before the divorce. I kept teasing the kid because he rattled my cage.

‘I bet little Johnny still eats his lunch in the high school cafeteria when he goes home for the weekend…’ I said.

The room roared in laughter, some even applauding. It was my moment of glory. That one time in my life where I had the spotlight and looked like I mattered.

I scripted out the finale. Punch to the left… rabbit punch to the lower torso… duck… uppercut to the chin… southpaw him in the upper torso… duck… and pivot with another southpaw to the jaw… down. Johnny was one step away from a KO. And then I saw it. He was a momma’s boy, and it was clear he was compensating for never having a father around to care for him. I could see it in his eyes. The kid deserved mercy, so I tapered off. I held back. The lieutenant was seconds from coming back in and spouting off a list of obscenities no cadet’s mother would have ever approved her son to hear. I chose the higher road. Always fight with character… Keep some dignity in your back pocket for the good of everyone else. That’s it.”

“Thanks, Harv. I know you a little better now.” Todd patted him on the back.

“If you’re going to get us out of here, Todd, follow that idea… with character. Treat the others in here right, too. I’m willing to bet that a lot of us have had a tough life. Probably a lot tougher than you could ever know, pretty boy.”

Easy for you to say… Play it nice.

Todd nodded, maneuvering away from Harv. He pitched another can of Flitz to Todd.

“Take one for the road ahead,” Harv said. “I’ll be in your corner.”

I don’t want this. Be polite, anyway.

“Thanks. So what ever happened to Johnny?”

Harv teared up. “We got deployed right before Nixon started pulling some of the troops out. Raided a compound in ‘Nam and a landmine blew the kid up. He was a day shy of nineteen. God bless him.”

He struggled to catch his breath as a tear went down his once sun-kissed cheek.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Never take a day in your life for granted,” Harv said. “They’re all a gift. I may be a little off my rocker, but I have my redeeming moments. How about you?”

I can’t take any more of this sappy talk.

“Harv, it’s been interesting. Yeah. Interesting. I’m sure I’ll see you around here again. I know it's a little off topic, but, what did you do with the five dollars?”

“I didn’t get to keep that. I gave it away. Someone else needed it more than me.”

They heard a clicking sound.

“Shh. Listen up,” Harv said.

The voice of Ramblin’ Ron came on the tunnel speaker, “Yep, we’re here again. 6:04PM. The disappearances in Riverton are on the rise with no clear leads for RPD. It’s certainly causing people to look over their shoulder as they leave the office or the house. They seem to go missing after dark. If you have any information on these cases, please call the authorities. This is…”

CLICK.

Todd moved away from Harv toward a quiet corner.

I guess this nook will be my home base ‘til I can find a way out. Doesn’t look like anyone’s laid claim to it.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

RAMBLIN’ RON maintained glitz in the public eye, despite perpetual struggle under the surface. Beneath the dark shades, the swooped hair, and the thrift-store smoking jackets was a wayward man far from who he longed to be. The radio life had its perks, but it also had its setbacks. He struggled