• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

By Root 703 0

was, technically speaking, stationed within the state of Arkansas. But it had been easier that way. The border between Texas and Arkansas runs right through the middle of downtown Texarkana, and trying to police the myriad streets that crisscross the state line would have been impossible for Corporal Russell and his band of mental giants. Besides, a hundred and fifty years or so had passed since the last time a state in the Union had had to try to repel an invasion from a neighboring state, and anyway, the governor of Arkansas knew better than to try to interfere with anything set in motion by the inimitable Dick Whitford. So the people of Arkansas – a state that had recently passed a law allowing its citizens to carry firearms into houses of worship – just sat and watched. In fact, most were just too stunned to react at all to the line of military trucks that paraded in and set up shop on I-30, five miles outside of town.

Corporal Jim Russell was in charge of the checkpoint. The men under his supervision were all old friends, or acquaintances he’d known from high school. They’d all joined the military together, and Russell, the former big man on campus, literally as well as figuratively, had been the natural leader of the group from the start.

This band of courageous, committed soldiers were charged with the task of protecting the Texas border from undesirable types. And in their zeal, they’d erected a makeshift holding pen into which they’d flung every hippie, Communist, and other Liberal they’d encountered. And because Corporal Russell and his men were all good, East-Texas boys, they’d also rounded up a number of African-American folks and put them into the holding pen too.

Russell stood off to the side with a handful of his men, watching the slow interrogations and/or incarcerations taking place fifty yards up the road.

“It’s a stupid name,” he said.

“What?” asked Buck Abernathy, one of Russell’s men.

“Texarkana,” said the Corporal. “It’s a stupid name.”

“I don’t know,” said another named Ronnie. “I think it’s kinda cool.”

“Well, you’re a dumbass,” said Russell.

Ronnie narrowed his eyes, giving Russell a look that might have been intended to convey a threat of imminent bodily harm, or maybe just that Ronnie was having trouble seeing.

“You know,” said Corporal Russell, “they’ve also got a town called ‘Arkadelphia.’ What the hell kind of people go naming all their towns by sticking together parts of other town names? That’s just dumb.”

“Yeah, that’s a lot worse than just stealing names of foreign cities,” said Buck.

Russell turned, mystified, toward his underling. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

“Like, every town in Texas used to be a city in some other country,” said Ronnie.

“Yeah,” said Buck. “There’s a bunch. We got a ton of towns named after foreign places.”

“Like what?”

“Paris, Texas.”

“Hmmph,” said Russell. “Shut up.”

“Carthage?” proffered Buck.

“Oh and there’s Dublin.”

“And Egypt.” Ronnie and Buck nodded at each other enthusiastically.

“That ain’t a city, dumbass,” said Russell.

“And Italy,” said Buck, ignoring his boss.

Another soldier joined in the fun. “Don’t forget Moscow. And Palestine.”

“Right,” said Buck. Ronnie nodded some more.

“All of you,” said Russell, “shut up. Just shut up!” He held a walkie-talkie to his ear. “What? What?”

The rest of the soldiers huddled toward Corporal Russell, trying to listen in.

Corporal Russell stood abruptly. “You! Move that Humvee. Block the shoulder.”

The soldier tilted his head in the manner of a confused dog and squinted at his superior.

“Move the Humvee to block the shoulder. Now!” He pointed to the space between the shoulder and a clump of trees.

The soldier jumped and ran toward the truck. Corporal Russell saw that the Lamborghini was already too close, and so heaved his corpulence over to the shoulder, where he stood with his legs spread and his fists on his waist – his best tough-guy pose. He stared with squinty, tough-guy eyes as the sports car – shaped like a wedge and colored like the sun – slowed and stopped. The engine revved, making