Chapter 10
Doc’s Future
The northern winter wind whipped the previous night’s fallen snow up into the air and down 5th Street. It was a good couple of inches, adding to the few that had fallen earlier in the week. It was Sunday morning, and both the barber shop and pawn shop were closed. The ice was building up a thin layer in the corners on the inside of the barber shop’s storefront window. It was the indicator Poonrod used to gauge the humidity in his stores during the winter. No ice at all meant it was too dry, and the pot of water sitting on the radiator needed refilling. A little bit of ice building up meant it was just about right. A cold front moved in over Iowa, and the temperature plummeted to below zero on the morning’s weather report on the radio. The war news segment of the broadcast stated the Americans had taken a town called Bastogne in Belgium. The announcer said General Eisenhower stated the victory meant the end for Hitler on the Western Front. The Nazis were retreating under Allied attack from the Ardennes Forest. Their risky maneuver outflanked the Allies around the defensive Maginot Line by penetrating the forest with German Panzer tanks just north of the last outpost. Thousands of casualties in brutal winter conditions had been reported. The announcer paused and changed the page of headlines he was reading, then continued. He switched to the Pacific theater and stated the battle for the island of Luzon in the Philippines had begun. The Allies were attempting to take back the Philippines from the Japanese. Poonrod turned the radio down, took a deep breath, and sighed. Another day of war had begun.
This morning he was to meet promptly at 8:00am with Doc Lundborg and Jesse Meade. Jesse called and said Doc wanted to arrange a meeting where they could speak in private, the three of them. No sooner than Poonrod poured a couple of scoops of coffee into the percolator and filled the pot with water at his sink, he heard the door behind him open. He turned to see it was Jesse Meade and his father-in-law, Doc Lundborg, arriving promptly.
“Good morning, Verne,” Jesse greeted the mayor and began to unbutton his coat.
“Good morning, gentlemen. I am just getting the coffee started now,” replied Poonrod with a cigarette dangling from his mouth.
“It is colder than a witch’s tit out there this morning,” Doc Lundborg said in his Swedish accent as he took off his gloves and unbuttoned his coat.
“I thought Swedes were used to the cold,” Poonrod teased.
“Sweden doesn’t get this cold,” Doc replied, blowing warm air into his hands, rubbing them together.
“Give it a couple of minutes and we will have hot coffee, fellas,” stated Poonrod as he plugged in the coffee maker and took a seat in his barber chair facing his guests.
“Sounds good, Verne. Jesse told me you acquired the O’Connor Hotel,” Doc Lundborg said as he sat down in one of the chairs aligned along the wall for waiting customers.
“Yeah, when I heard about the killing, I called Baker and asked him about the property. He said it would go up for auction, and Cohen’s estate would take possession of it since he had no heirs or beneficiaries. Fortunately, for me, Baker told me Cohen died in a manner called intestate. It means he had no will when he died. I told Baker I was interested in it and made a solid offer for the building on the spot. The bank agreed to forego the auction after chatting with Baker and underwrote the loan. Amazing how that works,” Poonrod smiled and lit his cigarette. He looked guilty.
“They still haven’t found the guy that killed Cohen either?” asked Doc Lundborg.
“Guys on the rail yard think he got away on the train. He planned it right as the train was arriving,” added Jesse. He felt it was best to play along with the deflection and parrot the gospel going around among the men on the yard. He never bothered asking for details. Jesse knew Poonrod killed Cohen from his response. He had never mentioned acquiring the hotel before, so something transpired triggering Poonrod to act. If Poonrod wanted him to know what went down, he would tell him, and more than likely would.
“Is that right?” asked Poonrod.
“Hard to tell. I ran into Cobine yesterday on patrol. I asked him if they had any leads. He laughed and shook his head,” Jesse continued. He immediately connected the dots and suspected Sergeant Cobine was now somehow involved, prompting the laugh.
Poonrod smiled. “West Des Moines’ finest.”
Doc Lundborg cleared his throat and rubbed his chin. “Verne, the reason I wanted to meet with you and Jesse this morning is to talk a little bit about what is going on. I know you and Jesse have some business that does not pertain to me, but times are changing for all of us.”
“They always do,” reminded Poonrod.
“For me, they are changing a lot. I might be resigning from the Army,” Doc stated bluntly, surprising both Jesse and Poonrod.
“Wow, Doc, can you even do that?” It was the first Jesse had heard of the notion from his father-in-law.
“I am a dual citizen. I still have Swedish citizenship and can return if I need to. Getting there might be difficult right now, but it is under consideration,” replied Doc.
“Jesse said there was something up with your line of work.” Poonrod suspected the Army was probably transferring him.
Doc nodded and continued, “That would be putting it mildly. I am still a member of the Swedish Institute for Racial Biology, even though I have not been back to Sweden in years. I still receive a quarterly periodical with updates from Uppsala University. Sweden is a neutral country and has been consistently publishing throughout the war. I am almost sure this latest edition would have been censored or confiscated had it not been written in Swedish. In short, the Russians captured a labor camp full of Jews in Poland. They were not only being worked to death; they were being experimented on by the Nazis. These were gruesome experiments that were carried out on Jewish children too. There is reason to believe there are many more of these camps across Europe yet to be discovered,” explained Doc Lundborg.
“What kind of experiments?” asked Jesse.
“The reports from the Russian field translations were that the Nazis were injecting their eyeballs to see if they could change the color. They were submerging them in freezing water, starving them, raping them, and beating them. Hundreds of naked bodies were discovered in piles and mass graves.”
“They’re animals,” Poonrod said as he noticed the steam from the coffee pot and stood up to pour the three some coffee. “It sounds terrible, Doc, but how does this pertain to you? You are here in Iowa, thousands of miles from Germany or Japan. You are an officer in the US Army and a surgeon too. That has to be about as safe as it gets in war.”
Doc nodded his head and agreed with the observation. “The problem is there are already three, and possibly four, Nazi officers who are also confirmed members of the institute.”
Jesse looked at the opposing men confused. “You think the Nazis are going to invade Sweden? I thought they were in Norway.”
“I am not sure about that. But no, this is about the science that spawned eugenics. It is surely controversial, but it is actual science we are just beginning to understand. In the simplest terms, we believe there is a gene for intelligence, and some just do not have it, or theirs is deficient.” Doc stated confidently.
“They found an intelligence gene?” asked Jesse.
“Not yet. However, the lack of intelligence is what creates the behaviors in humans that society is better off without. This, I do believe. The common denominator between all the degenerates: the physically disabled, the prostitutes, drunks, the crazy, and the feeble-minded is that the world is better off without them reproducing. Every farmer and rancher knows this and eliminates their plants or animals that have defects to improve the overall health of the crop or herd. It is the same with humans.”
Poonrod poured three cups of coffee for the men but looked confused. “I think you lost me, Doc.”
“Sorry, Verne, look at it like this. If this is true, and I think it is, and the Germans lose, and I think they will, my career is over. This information will get out and it will be linked directly back to the institute in Uppsala. The institute has already lost members to resignations. There is going to be an upcoming vote on closing the institute entirely within the college itself before the war ends. This will look terrible for the Army too. It is
this exact science that attracted the US Army to Uppsala in the first place. This is also exactly why I am here in Iowa.” Doc confessed.
Poonrod and Jesse understood the conundrum Doc found himself in. “Uppsala is in Sweden, I presume?” asked Poonrod, never hearing of the city before.
“Yes, the University of Uppsala. It is in central Sweden. The larger point being is that no one will care about the science. It will be eclipsed by testimonials and evidence of torturing in labor camps. This is not at all what the science of eugenics is about. Unfortunately, there are only so many ways to tell someone they are too stupid to add value to the human race. This does not mean the subjects should be brutalized and tortured in the process. This also does not mean sterilization should be suspended. On the contrary, it should be expanded. The dumbest among us are the same people creating the most problems. However, they reproduce at higher rates.”
“There is something to be said for that. Most of the guys that go to prison end up returning,” answered Jesse.
“Exactly, Jesse. The identity of a man is crucial in his development. This means the ability to provide for one’s own needs before you can think of attracting a wife, acquiring a home, and building a family and subsequent community. But it starts with learning a job skill or trade. Very few men in prison have any identity beyond being a thief, pimp, or drug pusher. The Army is getting the smartest boys we have going to fight this war. Those that score higher in the initial testing are offered jobs that require more thinking, math, and science orientation. The men good with their hands are assigned industrial and mechanical training. Those with the lowest scores are offered the infantry or the more mundane skills and training. Those prospects the Army deems too stupid to learn any skill that will benefit the war effort? These men should not be able to reproduce. Left unchecked, America and Europe will become less white and subsequently dumber as populations.” Doc paused and took a sip of his coffee.
“I agree with that,” concurred Jesse.
Poonrod puffed on his cigarette and nodded, “Me too, Doc. It does make sense.”
Doc Lundborg continued, “The pertinent response from our studies is that there should be standards and regulations on who should be able to have children. In my opinion, a soldier needs to be able to pass a standard Army physical and score at least a level 3 on the Army’s General Classification Test. It is an aptitude test with scores ranging between one and five. One is the smartest and five is the dumbest. The guys that score a level 5 are mostly illiterate. The guys that score a level 4 are counting on their fingers. The only thing they are reading is the comics in the newspaper. These people not only create the majority of society’s problems but require the most resources to deal with them, their entire lifelong. Dumb is in their genes.”
“That is true. Most apples don’t fall far from the tree, Doc,” added Jesse.
“What do you think is the strongest factor in you leading a healthy, happy, and productive life?” Doc asked Jesse and Poonrod. The two looked at each other briefly.
“Your parents,” replied Poonrod as he extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray.
“That is pretty close, Verne. It is actually the genes you get from your parents. Forty-six chromosomes in total, twenty-three from each parent, if you remember science class.” Doc Lundborg paused as Jesse and Poonrod looked at each other again. Neither had that class in high school. “What race of people do you think score the highest on the Army’s intelligence exams?” asked Doc.
“The whites,” Poonrod replied confidently.
Jesse agreed, “Yeah, I am going with the white guys too.”
“You would be right. You would be even more accurate if you said Jewish Caucasians and Northern European Whites.” Doc sipped his coffee.
“Who are the dumbest?” asked Jesse.
“Negroes across the board. From the results of the testing, half of the negro men tested are completely illiterate by Army standards. A full 80% score in the bottom two tiers. Only 2% of all the negroes tested score in the top tier. By comparison, about half the Whites are in the top two tiers,” Doc Lundborg recited the Army’s testing data.
“Domino is not dumb,” contested Poonrod.
Doc took a sip of his coffee and nodded his head. “Not at all. He would score in level 1 or 2. Anyone can tell by talking to him. It really is also a compliment to you, him, and everyone that was involved in rearing him, Verne. The odds of this outcome were extraordinary, however.”
“He’s a fine young man. You’re probably right though.” Poonrod knew Doc Lundborg was accurate. It was a silent concern he never expressed to anyone. He had seen negroes in New Jersey, New York, Philadelphia, St. Louis, and Chicago as he bounced around after the first war trying to find steady work. In every town, the slums were filled with negroes from the South. The few he had spoken to over the years ranged from intelligent and funny to ungodly stupid. He knew if he did not rescue the little kid from the alley, he was doomed. It was one of the best decisions Poonrod ever made. He loved the kid. Domino added true joy to his life. Many in the community put in the effort to help the abandoned kid assimilate and develop into the natural-born hustler he had become.
“If a man is not smart enough to be accepted into the Army, there is a strong chance they are not employable. He is going to resort to crime and violence. The women’s scores reflect the same. If they are not married, and most of the dumbest ones are not, they end up as single at best. At worst, they have several children from various incompetent men or become prostitutes and spread disease in the community. However, in the wider aperture, the women that have taken the test so far generally score higher on the exams with far fewer in the level 4 and 5 compared to White men.”
Jesse laughed, “The dummies reproducing like rabbits? That won’t end well.”
Poonrod agreed, “That makes sense. I have never met an intelligent prostitute or ex-con.”
“You won’t. They do it because they have no other skill of value to society.” Doc replied.
Poonrod nodded his head. Doc Lundborg was indeed an intelligent guy. One of the smartest people in town, in fact. He was the only guy in town that thought about something like this, but from the look on his face, he was serious, almost desperate. “Interesting, but I guess I am still not understanding how this pertains to you getting out of the Army, Doc.”
Without hesitation, Doc replied, “Sure, The New York Times is owned by Jews. MGM and Warner Brothers out there in Hollywood are both owned by Jews. They control the narrative. The entire methodology that caused their people to be rounded up, worked to death, and experimented on will be uncovered. When the names of these former institute members are made public, dead or alive, it will be traced directly back to Uppsala. Every person who had anything to do with the institute will be made public. Sweden may be a neutral country, but America is not. The Army will find out sooner or later, if they have not already. American participation in the institute will become public too, including mine. The line between safe sterilization and mutilation will be blurred. My name will be linked to Nazi war criminals along with everyone else that ever went through the school’s doors. This will not only take me and the institute down, but it also will end the important work that has already been completed. All of the talented doctors and surgeons will now need to change their names, move out of town, or end their practices. Our reputations will be ruined.”
“I see. Sounds like you are in a bind, Doc.” Poonrod reached in his pocket for another cigarette and lit it.
“I am. I will have a discussion with my commanding officer and explain the situation. They will appreciate being alerted and hopefully grant my request to separate. Even if they do not grant me a separation, there is no way they can stop me from leaving on a train and then catching a ship back to Sweden. I am still, after all, a doctor in Sweden.”
Jesse shook his head and looked at Poonrod but said nothing. “I am sorry to hear that, Doc,” replied Poonrod.
“Verne, the reason I am sharing this with you is that I know you’re a successful guy. I know you and Jesse have a side business with some other fellas in town. I was actually looking to learn more about what is going on in your operation and see if there is a mutual interest before I pack my bags for Sweden.”
Poonrod looked out the storefront window as a person walked by in the cold. He turned back to Doc. “There just might be, Doc. Tell me more about your actual work, Doc.”
“My work? It is pretty simple. The time that I am in the office, I review the results of the initial testing on exams and correlate their score with a corresponding level. At this point, those that are scoring at a level 5 are not being accepted into the Army or Navy. Those that score at a level 4 are being placed in a reserve notification status. The rest are sent a notice to report for an indoctrination physical. It used to be the other way around, but there were so many idiots we had to eliminate them first before even bothering with the physicals.”
“What happens to the idiots?” asked Poonrod.
“That is a good question. From there, I take all those that had scores in the level 4 and spend a couple of minutes talking to them to see how dumb they really are. Most are harmless idiots. Some of them even hold menial jobs.”
“Like Willie and Skeeter?” asked Jesse.
“Skeeter probably can’t read, but Willie can,” recalled Doc. “I imagine they are not too intelligent, however,” he stated without confessing he was the surgeon who sterilized both of them. “Anyways, if they are a criminal, a prostitute, or a derelict, I’ll note their records. At the end of the week, my results are given to my commanding officer. From there, someone else compares the lists. Those that are level 4 scores get a notice they can barely read stating they are being put in a ready reserve status at the moment. If the Army wants them, they will call. The level 5 scores are compared to arrest and prison records. If they are incarcerated, or in an asylum, they will be given a physical and scheduled for sterilization surgery.” Doc said as he poured the last of the fresh coffee into his cup.
“I’ll make some more, Doc.” Poonrod noticed the coffee had emptied while Doc was speaking and stood up. “These guys allow you to sterilize them?”
Doc shook his head. “No, most do not know. They are told we are taking out their tonsils or their wisdom teeth to prevent an infection. They go under, and when they wake up, they are taken back to their cell, room, or wherever.”
“Interesting. Most are men, I assume?” asked Poonrod as he toiled with dumping the old coffee grounds into the wastebasket.
“No, it is about 50-50. The asylums send me about half the patients. A lot of those are feeble-minded girls and retarded boys.”
“That asylum in Clarinda is packed with retards, I heard,” added Jesse.
“Yes, it is a full house. It is truly an awful place too. I toured the facility years ago. People walking around like zombies, shitting their pants, and screaming in their rooms. The facilities in Mount Pleasant and Independence are not any better,” admitted Doc Lundborg.
Poonrod poured water from the faucet in the sink into the coffee maker. “Sounds like you see a lot of stupid people naked, Doc?” Poonrod joked, and Jesse laughed.
“That is one way of saying it. I prefer to see them with their clothes on, frankly.”
Poonrod rubbed his chin. The wheels in his mind began turning. “How many of them are over eighteen?”
“That get sterilized? Probably half,” Doc estimated.
“The ones that are under eighteen, I suspect, they’re all dead broke or orphans?” Poonrod continued.
“That about sums it up.”
“Do you still have access to their contact information?"
“The men, I do,” replied Doc.
Poonrod shook his head. “No, there is no problem getting men. What is the story with the women’s contact information?”
“The women’s records are held at the facility they are residing at. Their medical records come with them when they are scheduled for surgery and then return with them after completion and notation.” Doc was unsure what Poonrod was considering.
Poonrod squashed his own idea. “No, if they are living in an asylum, we probably can’t get access to them anyways.”
“Access for what?”
“I am looking for some magazine models.”
“Forgive me, Verne. I have heard some strange ones before, but did you just say magazine models, like women fashion models?”
“Yes. It would also be nice if they were lookers and had big tits.”
“You gotta be kidding me, Verne. What type of magazine is gonna want to see a bunch of retarded women with big boobs?”
“Do you know who Randy Bierly is?”
“No.”
“The photographer guy. The little guy with a mustache. He takes wedding pictures and graduation photos.”
“Yes, I know the place. Out there on Grand Avenue I believe.”
“That is correct. That is mine too now.”
“What?”
“Yes, Not long ago Bieler stumbled across a gimmick I think could turn into a money maker. He got himself into a bind. He was taking pictures of naked women and sending them in to a magazine for money.”
“Who were the girls?”
“They respond to an advertisement in the Tribune looking for models to enter a beauty contest. The ones that show up, he takes a few photos for their portfolio and the phony contest. The ones that were looking for money, he told them he had a lingerie contract. If they would pose for bras and panties, he would pay them extra. The ones that died, he got a few of them drunk and offered them more to take it all off, or just the blouses.”
“How much money?” asked Jesse.
“$20, probably. Maybe more.”
Doc Lundborg was not surprised. “Who were the girls?”
“I don’t know, they responded to the advertisement in the Tribune. Bieler met with them and did all the work. But they did agree to do it.” Poonrod extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray on his desk behind his barber chair and continued. “Not only did they do it, he sent the pictures into this smut magazine publisher in California who is sending him checks. His wife opened the mail one day, wondering who in California was sending something to the house, and inside was a check with his name on it. There was also a copy of the magazine and a receipt for the photos.”
“Uh, oh. How did that turn out?” Doc Lundborg asked, raising his eyebrows.
“She walked out. He tried to win her back by placing a huge bet on the Hawks last season and lost. He confessed the whole story and wanted to pawn off his whole business. I told him I would help him out. He is a weird guy, but who doesn’t like naked women?” replied Poonrod.
Jesse looked at both Doc and Poonrod. He wasn’t sure where this was headed. “So what are you going to do?”
“Well, I just gave him a little cash and told him to expand on the idea. He knows all the photography stuff of developing the pictures after you take the film out of the camera too. I can’t do that. He came in the other day with a couple of the new magazines. One was named Slut Hammer and the other was titled Tits.”
“I wonder what those were about?” Jesse laughed in his response.
“They were graphic, alright. They would have been better in color. A couple of them were not too bad-looking. A couple of idiots in there with their peckers. There were mostly nude women posing in various places.” Poonrod recollected the photos in the magazines. “I think they were all sent-in photos by guys like Bieler, to be honest. There was an address in there, Sunset Publishing, a post office box in Los Angeles, California. We need some girls to get it primed, but once it is going, we could do like the guys in California and do like Bieler’s beauty contest, except naked women. Put up some cash for the monthly contest. Make some fake names and stories for the girls. Make them sign the contract and pay them fairly. I don’t see why they would not be considered models just like posing nude for an artist.” concluded Poonrod. He had put more thought into the idea than he originally led on.
“Have you ever thought of a maternity home?” asked Doc. “There are a few of them around. There is one off of Hickman Road I know of.”
Doc nodded his head. “There is another on the south side that works with the hospital. There are a variety of young women living there who became pregnant out of wedlock. Some are young girls that could not say no. Some are hookers. Some were probably orphans. I bet you could find some ladies there who would be willing to take some nude pictures for money.”
Poonrod smiled. It was a good idea. He was surprised by the doctor’s recommendation. “Wow, that is a great idea, Doc. Maybe we could find a couple that are not too swollen up or already gave birth and maybe slimmed down a bit. Those melons do get big when they are nursing. It would show up good in the pictures.”
“Yeah, boobs are never going out of style,” confirmed Jesse.
“No, probably not,” snickered Doc. He had seen more sex organs than anyone in town.
“Maybe we could get a few to let us take pictures. I mean, if some were selling their pussy already, what is a few pictures, or movie?” Poonrod suggested.
“A movie of people having sex?” Jesse thought to himself, and Rose lay out on the bed going at it in front of a camera.
“Yeah, in color, like Wizard of Oz. If we could get a big star, like John Wayne, to fuck an actress, like Ingrid Bergman, on film? There would be lines out front of the Bijoux that would run the length of the city every night.” Poonrod bragged.
“Ingrid is a beauty. She is Swedish too.” Doc smiled. Ingrid was proof that eugenics yielded desirable results.
“I guess I could also rent a hotel room in Chicago and rent some hookers to take pictures for a couple of days with Bieler.”
“That could be dangerous.” Jesse took a sip of coffee and scratched his chin. He thought for a moment, “This will take some time to set up. I don’t think it would be hard to find some street girls to disrobe in front of a camera for money. But I do think making a magazine and selling them is going to take a printing press to start with. Plus, in the end, we would be selling magazines. Like liquor, it is so cheap we would have to sell truckloads of magazines to make any money. That means we would need to be all over America and not just Iowa.” Jesse was contemplating Poonrod’s idea. A printing press capable of making a magazine did not exist in West Des Moines. There could not be that many in the entire state.
“Correct, Jesse.”
Doc sighed, “I am not sure I am going to be able to help you much if this is what you’re thinking, Verne.”
“I understand your position, Doc. You need a professional job that is above board.”
“Like the mayor and business owner?”
“Well, there is also selling insurance, Doc. I think when the war is over and all these guys come back, they are going to want houses, cars, and wives to start families…all of that needs insurance.” Poonrod was not surprised Doc balked at the idea. He was not a Christian, but he was intelligent. It would be hard for him to lower the brain power down to the bowling alley and pool hall level to earn a living.
“That is probably more of a realistic career option than the former suggestion, Verne.” Jesse imagined his father-in-law selling insurance in an office to other businessmen. For a moment, it seemed like a viable option.
“No, if I leave the Army, I will need to leave town most likely. Once my name gets printed, that would be the end of any prospects or clients for insurance or retail business.” Doc had already drawn a conclusion about his participation in the pornography. It wasn’t right, even if it were legal. Poonrod could talk all day and defend it with his attorney collaborators. It just wasn’t appealing for a multitude of reasons.
“You might be right, Doc.” Poonrod paused for a moment, connecting dots and making calculations in his head. “You know how you could help, Doc?”
“How?”
“You’re a doctor. You can order drugs and fill prescriptions, right?”
“Of course.”
Poonrod smiled. “You know what has never been tried? The drugs the Indians are taking.”
Jesse cocked his head and thought for a moment. “What drugs are the Indians taking? Smoking out of a peace pipe?”
“Basically, yes. I remember reading a book about American Indians some time ago. I was trying to figure out if they were smoking tobacco or cannabis on a bet.”
“It was cannabis,” confirmed Doc Lundborg.
“Yes, and I won my bet. But I do remember reading about the tribes eating some kind of mushroom and a cactus. I have never heard of them. I can’t remember their names.”
“I have also never seen a cactus in Iowa, but mushrooms will grow here just fine.” Jesse thought about the morels he and the boys collected in the woods in the spring.
“I know they do, but I have never felt weird after eating any,” Poonrod replied.
“Several of the tribes of Central and South America used medicine men. Apothecaries of the jungle, perhaps. I know coca leaves have been chewed on by natives for centuries. It is the central ingredient in the same cocaine that went into Coca-Cola,” Doc added as he took a sip from his coffee.
Poonrod stood up and walked behind his chair again and retrieved an object from the drawer in his desk. “They took the cocaine out, eventually, but the sales from that? By the time they replaced the coke in the original recipe, it was already sold around the world. This Injun’ Powder stuff here.” Poonrod held out a small box in his hand. “This would be a good place to start. This stuff is quite the product. I rolled up a couple of cigarettes after sprinkling this stuff on there, and man, I got pretty stoned off that stuff. That is sold over the counter too.”
Jesse took the box from his hand and examined it. “Where did you get it?”
“It was loaded into the cigarette machine. It says ‘Tobacco enhancer’ on the box, so I bought it for a quarter to try out.”
“You want to sell this product?” Doc looked at the small box Jesse handed him and opened the lid of the container. He inspected the yellowish tiny granules roughly the size of salt grains. He sniffed the substance.
“It is cannabis, surely.”
“Correct. Since the laws were relaxed with this hemp for victory campaign, these Injun’ Powder folks in Tulsa didn’t waste any time to see if it was legal to sell it.” Poonrod assumed.
“It says, ‘made with pure Indian Sativa’ on the side of the box here. That is clever. Sativa is a type of hemp or cannabis.” Doc read aloud.
“I was wondering about that.”
“It is actually quite smart. Most would suspect it to be some type of tobacco derivative.”
“Exactly, and not ask any questions if it were legal. I checked out the cig machine at Val Air after bowling, where I got them in the first place, and it was already empty. Whoever is selling the cigarettes is selling those too now.”
Jesse took the small container from Doc and sniffed it. “So you want to sell this?”
“No, I want to put that into bubble gum, like Coca-Cola did with cocaine. Women don’t smoke, or most don’t. Kids don’t smoke, or shouldn’t. Plenty of men don’t smoke either. But everyone chews Wrigley’s bubble gum. What if we could get the right amount of this Injun’ Powder in sticks of gum or candy? Not too much to make people stupid stoned but enough to change their mood, like a beer.” Poonrod shared his vision.
“You think this is the weed they smoked in the peace pipes?” asked Jesse.
“I don’t know. It definitely ‘enhanced’ me. It made me relaxed and paranoid at the same time. It was strange but enjoyable,” replied Poonrod.
“What happens when the war ends? You know they are going to make the weed illegal again,” asked Doc.
“That is the right question, Doc. That is what got me thinking about the Indian mushroom and the cactus potion from the book. I don’t even know what they are, or if they work. If they do, that might be a whole different flavor or product that is not illegal. You being a doctor and all, Doc, could endorse it. If we can get it into a powder form like the Injun’ Powder, then it could be an ingredient we can use in any number of products.” Poonrod expanded on the idea.
Jesse nodded his head. It was a smart idea. The Coca-Cola guys had to have known the cocaine was addictive in the beginning. It was relatively the same marketing concept with a different product. “Depending on how strong the effects are. We don’t want to be giving gum to kids with some wacky Injun’ potion in it.”
“Correct, there is some homework that needs to be done, but I do think it might be worth looking into.” Poonrod agreed.
“Where would you start?” asked Doc.
“Tulsa, Oklahoma. It is where they make the Injun Powder. The address is right there on the box.” Poonrod pointed to the side of the box.
Doc was amazed. Marijuana had been around for centuries. Hemp had been used in canvas and rope for longer. The zealot Christians were successful in comparing it to the evils of alcohol, heroin, and cocaine. The laws around marijuana were relaxed during the hemp for victory campaign. It was being grown all over the Midwest. But this was different. This wasn’t rope or canvas. “Yeah, they surely are not hiding from anyone.”
“But, honestly, Doc, those are the best ideas I can come up with. If it is a product, it has to be something small, lightweight, easy to transport or mail. It also needs to be cheap and valuable at the same time.” Poonrod stated.
Doc nodded his head and stood up. “Well, those two ideas meet that criterion.”
“They do indeed. This whole town is going to change along with the rest of the country when the war is over. The rail yard is doomed, and most of the retailers here in Valley Junction are not even thinking like that yet. The insurance agent is probably not a bad idea. I would probably do that, but I am not the shirt and tie type.”
“Of course, you’re not, mayor.” Jesse laughed at the sarcasm and stood up as well.
“I’m not sure I can help with your idea on the pornography business, but I will give some thought to this Injun’ Powder idea. I have some much-needed leave I can use,” Doc Lundborg said as he reached for his coat.
“You’re a smart guy, Doc. I will pay for your expenses to go down to Tulsa and poke around. I’ll give you one spending money too to help make friends if you would be willing to check out this Injun’ Powder operation.”
“Let me sleep on it, fellas.” Doc said as he put on his hat and coat.
“Of course, I will run it by Baker and Bickford, our legal scholars, too. Once they have had a while to think about it, we will set up a meeting and talk about the future. It will be our first one in the old hotel,” added Poonrod.
Jesse put his coat on and zipped it up. “I am sure Rose will be pleased with the future career options for her husband and father.”