A Taste of Security
By Harrington
A. Lackey
Al
Lumpblast collected bricks of fruitcake every year since he got married 50
years ago. Every Christmas, he got the same gift- bricks of fruitcake. To his
friends and family what was strange was he never ate them. Nobody except his
wife, Nanna knew what he did with them.
From the
beginning when he began receiving a few consolidated loads of fruit, he started
a tradition. He announced to his family, "Fruitcake is the future."
Then he assembled the tasty giant pieces and mysteriously absconded with them
downstairs to the basement. Since that first Christmas, nobody could go
downstairs to see what he did with them, because he opened several doors and placed
the bricks in the last room. Then he locked that last door and closed the other
two until he came up to join everybody. "What are you doing with those
fruitcakes?" Everyone asked. All Lumpblast said was, "It's the
future." That was it.
Many
years ago, word got out to the community that there existed a man who
mysteriously stored fruitcakes in his basement. It wasn't long before news
teams reporters came around the Lumpblast home and tried little tricks to get
the "Fruitcakeaire" to reveal his secret in the basement. He did
throw a bone at one reporter and said, "Fruitcakes are one of the most
secure means of keeping yourself safe." It was at this point that his wife
chimed in, saying "He's right the future is in the basement." But, Al
scolded her with such anger in his eyes, because she may have said too much.
Poor
Nanna. She remembered a time when Al spent two weeks working in the basement,
but Al wouldn't let her accompany him. All she remembered Al bringing were
several shovels into the room with fruitcakes. He came up to eat and sleep.
Nanna only asked him several times, "How's it coming?"
"Wonderful! It will be ready soon," he replied.
The final
Christmas, the Lumpblast family rested from giving Al fruitcakes. They gave him
a nice radio. All Al could do was sulk that he wasn't getting fruitcake. But
their son, Herb announced, "Let's plug the radio in and turn it on so we
can hear Christmas music." Nanna clapped her hands, saying, "That's a
great idea. Turn it on!"
No sooner
had they turned on the radio than they heard a news bulletin. A newscaster
said, "This is an urgent warning! Attention! We are getting reports that a
Russian war boat off the coast of New York City has released a strong nuclear
threat that 'America has ten minutes'."
The
family panicked except for Al who said, "OK, everybody downstairs. Right
now." "But you never want us to go downstairs," replied Nanna
hysterically. "I'm about to reveal my secret," Al said.
As they
proceeded downstairs, Al fumbled in his pockets for the keys for his secret
room. When he got them out he unlocked the door and opened it. The only thing
Nanna and their son saw was a 7 by 7-foot rectangular fortress made of old
fruitcake bricks lying six feet underground with a fruitcake room. "Quick,
get in!" They crawled through a three-foot cubby hole. "All these
years of trusting in your idea, this is a time when I really want this to
work," Nanna said as she and her son smelled the fruitcake. "Yep. I
didn't want anyone to know because I wasn't sure if the fruitcake would protect
us. However, according to my calculations, we might be safe."
In a
matter of minutes, they heard a harsh roaring sound above. Everything shook as
the winds from the nuclear blast had gone over their disintegrating house.
Then, the basement floor flew out right above them, but their fruitcake
fortress remained stable.
Everyone
held each other tightly as more winds whipped loudly around their shelter. It
was holding. After ten minutes, as the winds died down, they continued to stay
huddled together in their shelter. Then, they heard nothing. Al warned,
"OK, now we have to stay down here a few days. I assume if New York City
was hit, we wouldn't take the full force of the blast since we live in
Nebraska." His wife said, "You did it. The fruitcake held. You're a
genius!" "Wow. You really did do it, Dad," his son added.
After
five days inside their fruitcake house, they heard a helicopter flying near
their area. Al said he thought it would probably be safe to leave. After they
all got out, they spied the copter and waved their hands and yelled.
Two
Marines spotted them and flew toward them. They landed a couple of hundred feet
from the Lumpblasts. One of the Marines went over to examine them. The soldier
looked surprised at how neat and clean they appeared. As soon as they were
ready, the soldier told them to get in the copter and they flew away to the
nearest Marine outpost.
When Al
and his family were briefed about going to their fortress made of fruitcake,
the sergeant scowled in confusion. "Fruitcake??" he asked as if he
had heard everything, and he had. "Nobody's going to believe your
story." "Go back and look at it yourself," Al told him.
The
colonel running the outpost heard the story and was convinced after flying back
with Al to see their fruitcake shelter for himself. "Have you told anyone
about this idea of yours?" "No, sir. I wasn't exactly sure it would
hold. So, I kept the idea to myself until the right time. I didn't want anyone
to think I was a fruitcake."
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