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Reconnaissance in person was an archaic and unprogressive procedure, and it was a good way to get generals killed, but one could see a lot of things that would be missed on TV. He let down several times in areas that had already been taken, and talked to company and platoon officers. For one thing, King Yoorkerk's flamboyantly-named regiments weren't quite as bad as Paula had thought.
Anyone approaching from the swamp behind the blind could enter unseen from Calvert's Favor. Not until they were back at the cove did any of them speak. "That antenna was odd," Steve said. "Did you ever see anything like it, Rick?" "Not exactly," Rick admitted. "It could be for TV, although it's an unusual design, or it could be some kind of ham rig, as Scotty said."
"Can't buy Friskies on my good looks," he said. That was how work came in for him two weeks here, six months there. He got by, barely. The day drifted along. He took a nap, watched a basketball game on TV, and cleaned, minimally, for his mother's inspection. At seven, he walked down to George's. "Foundrymen's Red!" he said, holding up a liter of Merlot. "Foundry workers, I should say."
He had cleaned every weapon in his and Prestonby's private arsenal, since lunch, and now he had to admit the unpalatable fact that there was nothing left to do but turn on the TV. Ray had been no company at all; the boy hadn't spoken a word since he'd started rummaging among the captain's books. Gloomily, he snapped on the screen to sample the soap shows.
It was fun to start over in this way, owning only what he needed for his new life, whatever that was going to be. After some consideration, he bought a compact sound system and a TV for news and sports. He ate rice and fish, bought vegetables at the farmers market, and walked on the beach. The beach belongs to the people in Hawaii; it cannot be owned or sealed off.
She stretched her large muscular framed back; heard a thump on the bookshelf but, in her state of concentration, she dismissed it; dropped the baby back into its crib, and took the top of a TV tray off its legs. In place of the baby, she sat the tray upon her lap providing a close-up foundation for her manuscript.
It was certain by now that the affair at the picnic grounds was called off, but with radio and TV silent, there was no way of checking. The storm continued through the afternoon and into the evening. Dinner was broiled steak, with a tossed salad. If the storm continued for a week, Rick told the group, they'd all get as fat as Collins from Mrs. Miller's charcoal cooking.
Oliver ate slowly, feeling no need for conversation. He was conversing, he realized, with each move of his chopsticks, each glance around the room. The cab ride and the hotel seemed loud in comparison. He turned the TV on and turned it off. It was better to lie in bed and revisit the garden. Tomorrow was coming. Another long flight.
"Let's forget Park Hill and funny anatomies, baby. Let's sit on the terrace and bathe ourselves in luxury the way the TV ad says." And that was the way things stayed for two hours. The time passed swiftly, and when Frank was finally dressed and ready for the street, he refused Rhoda's offer to drive him to the hospital because she was very late, too.
"Barby and Jan." Rick groaned. "Don't you know Barby's been gone on ghosts ever since she started watching that TV program on Sunday nights?" "This is different," Scotty insisted. "But since you're such a skeptic, you can wait until we've hauled in the food. Come on, scientist. And unless you keep an open mind until you hear the evidence, we'll take your Junior Experimenter badge away."
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