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He was standing on a beach, the surf piled gently against the sands. He heard the sound in the background, a humming, then a roar. A machine rolled up... the man inside looked him up and down. ‘Move on, bud.’ the man said. Catching a glimpse of the badge, he said, ‘Sure.’ and headed off down the beach. Tourists, every size and shape were everywhere. He just kept walking. It was just a mile or so when he saw the bunkers, something drew him to them. Walking up to one, a voice challenged. Some. Hildy's father saw Jim right away. He stuck his arm into the air and as soon as he was sure that Jim saw him he kept his arm raised but pointed his index finger down at the barstool next to his."Yes, old man. I get the picture." Hey Bill, draw me another beer," Mr. Wertz called out to the burly bartender with a handlebar moustache. "Draw one for the young fella, too."Jim had made his way to the bar stool to which Mr. Wertz directed him. He started to say 'hello', but the bartender spoke before. More

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