…I don’t know what aloha oe means in Honolulu but I can sure tell you what jigjig means in Suva…
Monroe D. Underwood
The race was to consist of ten laps.
Brandy and Lochinvar X. had drawn the outside position.
The chariots broke cleanly enough.
Brandy checked Lochinvar X. and took him to the rail.
They went around closely bunched with the funeral parlor driver brandishing his scythe and the scantily attired young thing on the bakery chariot flinging doughnuts in a great many directions.
As they lit into the second lap the police force chariot opened up a two-length lead.
In the far turn the plumbing company chariot made a run at the front-runner.
Its valiant effort to pass on the inside resulted in an utterly horrendous collision that demolished both chariots.
The plumbing company driver made a breathtaking leap from his doomed vehicle in time to save his life and receive a reckless driving ticket from the Radish River chief of police.
Midway through the third lap the girl on the bakery chariot uncorked a wild doughnut which struck the funeral home driver squarely between the eyes and rendered the unfortunate fellow instantly senseless.
The funeral home chariot smashed into a wall and capsized.
In the pileup the scythe was busted and most of the lilies were ruined.
Now the race had boiled down to the bakery chariot and Brandy.
They swept along hub-to-hub with the big crowd whooping it up and the Radish River High School band just blowing the socks off of “El Capitan.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the scoreboard lights flicker briefly.
I glanced in that direction.
I stood transfixed.
From the door of the gigantic scoreboard filed a great many men wearing bright red uniforms and white helmets and carrying sleek automatic rifles.
My blood ran cold.
Doctor Ho Ho Ho’s troops were in Radish River.
I stumbled to the edge of the track.
I gestured to Brandy.
I pointed to the scoreboard.
Brandy nodded and smiled grimly.
She looked back and winked as her chariot plunged into the turn.
When the Radish River Bakery entry came by again Brandy was several lengths back.
At some point in the backstretch she had left her chariot and now she sat firmly astride Lochinvar X.
The giant blue roan came hammering down the stretch.
His ears were laid back.
His white stockings flashed scissors-like as he devoured distance with Triple Crown strides.
Reflections of the Radish River stadium floodlights flared in his eyes.
Lochinvar X. was running his last race and he was giving it all he had.
Brandy Alexander was crouched low over the neck of the ancient warrior.
She was stroking him and speaking into his ear.
Her toga was up around her neck.
There was nothing under it but Brandy Alexander.
As Lochinvar X. thundered by I saw Brandy reach back to jerk at a strand of leather.
Suddenly Lochinvar X. was free of the chariot.
The old campaigner’s head went up.
He clattered around the bend and made for the backstretch.
The driverless gold chariot came barreling in his wake.
As far as the turn.
At that point it continued straight ahead.
It jumped a curb.
It bounded across twenty yards of grass.
With an awe-inspiring crash it plowed headlong into the front of the magnificent Radish River scoreboard.
The chariot flipped over.
Its wheels wobbled to a stop.
At that moment it lit up like a fluorescent bulb.
It buckled and curled and dissolved in a torrent of vivid blue electrical flame.
The scoreboard rocked and rumbled.
It hissed ominously.
Then tons and tons of aerial bombs began to go off.
There were small explosions and large explosions and middle-sized explosions.
There was general hell to pay.
It was a cross between the Battle of the Bulge and the end of the world.
That is just a guess of course.
I missed the former and I have no intentions of attending the latter.
From horizon to horizon the sky was an unholy orange hue.
The ground shuddered violently beneath my feet.
The decrepit Radish River High School building emitted a prolonged groan and caved in.
The flagpole swayed wildly from side to side and Old Glory snapped and crackled high above the unbelievable scene.
The Radish River High School band played “The Star-Spangled Banner.”
I shook my head.
Fort McHenry had never seen the likes of this.
The Radish River fans stood to applaud the halftime show.
The Radish River High School band played “America the Beautiful.”
The great scoreboard began to lift slowly into the air.
At an altitude of approximately fifteen feet it paused.
It hovered there surrounded by swirling smoke.
Then in a blinding deafening blast it vanished completely.
The Radish River fans cheered vociferously.
The Radish River High School band played “The Stars and Stripes Forever.”
Where the scoreboard had stood I saw a huge hole in the stadium floor.
Into this hole staggered a great many men wearing tattered bright red uniforms and battered white helmets.
There wasn’t a single sleek automatic rifle in sight.
Doctor Ho Ho Ho’s troops were leaving Radish River.
The Radish River High School band played “Aloha Oe.”
I looked for Brandy and saw the broad rump of Lochinvar X. go through the gate and into the tormented night.
The lights went out.
I shrugged.
I headed for the Radish River Drug Store.