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In the range control tower, Corporal Weisbaum was getting madder every second.
"What's the matter with that switchboard operator," he screamed.
"Don't he hear the buzzer?" He shook the phone and roared again.
Finally, he slapped it down on the hook. "Gimme that radio," he said, reaching for the handset. The operator shook his head sadly. "No use, corp. It's deader'n doornail. Don't know what's the matter. It just quit."
Weisbaum looked around and spotted one of the regular jeep drivers standing at the foot of the tower. "Mahoney," he yelled. "Get in your jeep and go back and get the old man. Tell him he's gotta see Cromwell shoot. You can tell him what happened."
The jeep driver started towards his vehicle. "And Mahoney," Weisbaum yelled after him, "while you're there, bring back another radio and tell that idiot on the switchboard we got wire trouble." Mahoney nodded and went to his jeep.
Back at the cabin, Ma Cromwell wiped her face with her ap.r.o.n skirt.
"Sh.o.r.e hot today," she thought. "You hot there, too, Sonny?"
"Kinda hot, Ma," Jed thought back. "Sh.o.r.e ain't like home. Not bad though."
"You gettin' enough to eat, child?" Ma asked.
Jed frowned slightly and stepped up his mental output. A half mile down range and a thousand feet up, an Army helicopter heading for a maneuver area, coughed and quit. The blades went into autogyro as it sank quickly to earth.
Vehicles all over the post came to a spluttering stop and office lights and refrigerators went off.
"What did you say, Ma?" Jed asked. "Seemed like you got sorta weak."
"'Tain't me." Ma snorted. "Jest that nosy Miz Hawkins. She's gotta listen in on everybody's private talk up in these hills, seems like."
There was the feeling of an indignant gasp and then Ma's thoughts came booming through. Jed relaxed and grinned. The chopper was almost on the ground when its engine caught fire once again and went surging up and forward. The surprised pilot fought to get control before he slammed into a low hill. Lights came back on and electrical equipment began running other than close to the range.
"Shouldn't ought to talk like that, Ma," Jed grinned. "She's jest bein' friendly like."
"Hm-m-m," Ma sniffed, "gettin' so's a body cain't even talk with her own kinfolk without everybody in these parts listenin' in."
Mahoney got out of his jeep and walked back to the tower. "Jeep won't start," he called up to Weisbaum.
The corporal turned purple and leaned over the edge of the tower. "Ta h.e.l.l with it then," he roared. "Now get those b.u.ms back on the line.
We got a whole platoon to shoot out and I want to see that hillbilly do the same thing in the standing position.
"Cromwell," he bellowed, "get up on that line."
Jed opened his eyes quickly and then shut them for another moment.
"Got to go, Ma," he thought quickly, "that corporal feller's yellin'
again. You take care, Ma."
"I will, Sonny," Ma thought back. "Mind your manners."
Jed got up and hurried to the firing line. In the tower, the phone began ringing and the radio and telephone operators began reporting the equipment trouble they'd been having. On the road, one of the truck drivers half-heartedly stepped on the starter for the tenth time. The engine roared to life. The other drivers stopped and stared, then climbed down from fenders and front b.u.mpers and tried their own starters. The trucks and their puzzled drivers left. Firing resumed.
That evening in the barracks, Harry Fisher complimented the mountain boy. "Nice shooting today, Jed," he said, "I was on the radio in the pits while you were shooting. I don't think anyone ever saw anything like that before."
Jed smiled at his friend and bunkmate. "It's easy to do, real easy Harry," he said. "I reckon everyone could do it once they get the hang of it."
Fisher smiled ruefully. "You're looking at one guy who'll never get the hang of it," he said, "whatever the 'hang of it' might be."
"Honest, Harry," Jed said earnestly, "all you gotta do is jest think them bullets into that big black spot."
Fisher laughed. "I could think like Socrates and never come close to...." He stopped and stared at Jed with a half-smile. "You know, Jed, you're kind of weird sometimes. 'Think the bullets.' Come to think of it, though, that's not the only weird thing. Did you know that everytime you were getting ready to shoot our radios went dead today?"
Jed frowned thoughtfully. "That's funny. I ain't never heard of that happenin' afore. O' course, we never had radios in Bluebird Gulch.
Only thing we ever had trouble with wuz the 'lectric light bulbs in Paulsburg the one-two times our folks went down there. Seems like them lights wuz goin' out everytime one of us wuz mind-talkin' with some homefolks."
Harry stared puzzledly at the mountain boy.
"You know," Jed tried to explain, "like when you might of fergot somethin' someone wanted real bad from the store. Or mebbe like one time when Ma'n me wuz in the big store in Paulsburg and she wuz gettin' some fancy cloth fer Miz Culpepper. Store didn't have no fancy cloth like Miz Culpepper wanted, with big red flowers. Only had blue flowers. So Ma, she mind-asked Miz Culpepper if the blue ones would be all right. Every durned 'lectric light bulb in that store went out."
Fisher was beginning to get a dazed look on his face. "'Mind-asked.'
'Mind-talk.' You mean what I think you mean, Jediah?" he asked.
"Reckon I do," Jed said emphatically. "Just like I mind-talked with Ma this afternoon an' tole her what all the hurrah was about jest 'cause I flung them bullets through that big ol' black spot."
"You talked with your mother back in West Virginia this afternoon?"
Harry pressed. "From the rifle range?"
"Sh.o.r.e did," Jed said happily. "Most plumb forgot fer a couple o'
weeks now, what with us bein' so consarned busy. It wuz purely fine to talk with Ma."
Fisher's brain was spinning. "Can you contact her anytime you want to?"
"Sh.o.r.e kin," Jed said proudly. "It takes a mite more power though, the furthern I git from home. Or if Miz Hawkins is listenin' in."
"Let's see you do it now," Fisher demanded.
Jed shut his eyes. "Ma," he thought, "you got time fer a chat?"
The lights went out all over the barracks. Harry Fisher fainted.
When he came to, he was lying on Jed's bunk with the mountain boy leaning over him solicitously. "You all right, Harry?" Jed asked anxiously. "Ma's worried 'bout you."
Harry fainted again.
When he came to the second time, Jed had gone running down the barracks aisle to Corporal Weisbaum's room. Harry sat up and swung his feet over the edge of the bunk. He was light-headed and his brain was still whirling.
A minute later Jed came back leading Weisbaum. The corporal peered down at Fisher. "You sick 'er somethin' Fisher?" he asked. "Get too much sun today?"
Harry shook his head. "No. I'm O.K. now, corporal. Must have been something I ate. I'll be all right."
Weisbaum reached down and felt Harry's forehead. "You look kinda peaked to me. You hit the sack and if you don't feel O.K. in the morning, I'll put you on sick call."
Harry shook his head again. "No need for that. I'll be all right. I'm going outside and get some fresh air. Jed, will you give me a hand, please?"
He stood up shakily and Jed took his arm. "O.K.," Weisbaum said, "but if you don't feel so good, you're going to the dispensary, you hear."