Characters: James, Cindy
Rating: PG-13. James and his dirty mouth.
Summary: James doesn’t like all his home front duties.
Notes: Canon. May or may not appear in a future chapter, so can be considered a spoiler.
Word Count: 373
James opened the letter from the Office of Civilian Defense. He received such letters several times a month. He was, after all, the head blackout warden and also in charge of most of the various material drives that the War Productions Board was organizing to collect the necessary goods to support the war effort.
He began to read just as Cindy walked into the dining room.
“Another set of instructions?” she asked.
He nodded. “Scrap metal this time,” he said, not really paying any attention to her.
Cindy raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing as she sat down next to him and began to look through the latest ration coupon book that she’d gotten. She was mentally working out menu plans in her head when the silence in the room was shattered.
“They’re fucking crazy.”
“James, language,” Cindy said automatically, not looking up from the coupon book. “You know Alice asked you to clean it up a bit.”
James scoffed. “The baby’s not due for months yet.”
“And you’ll need that long to correct your potty mouth,” she retorted.
“But they are fucking crazy; there’s no other way to describe it.”
“What is it, James?”
“They want a hundred pounds of scrap metal for every man, woman, and child in Simsfield. That’s,” he started to do the math in his head but it got too complicated, “a whole shitload of scrap metal.”
Cindy gave him a look of reproach that he’s often seen here level at their children. “Well, I suggest you raid the attic. As the head of the material drives, you need to set an example.”
“But that’s three hundred pound for us alone! Where are we going to find it? It can’t be done.”
“James, it can be done. I’m assuming they don’t mean all at once, and that it works out to be a total for the entire town?”
“Then we post what Simsfield needs, and those who can give more, like your brother with all his random car parts kicking around the shed he keeps his Model A in, and it will balance out those who can’t. We can do it, if we all work together.”
James smiled at his wife. “Yes, we can.”