The New Generation Chapter 8

Wow I am a piece of shit. Over a month between this chapter and the last, I have been writing but I can’t seem to focus on one project long enough. Oh well. What’s done is done, excuses, excuses. Anyways, here we go, Chapter 8! Yes, the featured image is of a Tiger 1, Chandler’s tank is a King Tiger like Marion.

Enjoy.

TNG Chapter 8

Chandler toted his model Bismarck outside and past Marion’s lively and vibrant garden to the “man”-made pond they had. At first it was a dug-out for the kids, but Marion liked how close it was to the garden and the family sealed it to hold water with clay. Now full of lilies and other vegetation, it didn’t make for a good scene to represent the ocean as Chandler had hoped for, instead as he floated his model warship in it he thought of Bismarck steaming through murky Floridian swamps, helping Rudolph find an old friend. He watched his poorly painted boat rock side to side as he let go of it and sat back. It bobbed around as the water settled from the disturbance. Chandler was glad it floated upright, his last model would roll to the side every time he tried floating it. Bismarck floated super high in the water, though, unlike the real ship. It annoyed Chandler but it was an easy fix for him, just fill it with a ziplock bag of sand and it’ll be just fine.

Once the water settled still he reached out to the little boat and grabbed the narrow stern, reeling it in like a spring-loaded car, and pushed it hard, but controlled, to sail across the pond to the other side. He watched little waves roll around and water break way for his ship. The way water and ships interacted fascinated Chandler, he was fixated on the lower hull the whole time. He ran to the other side and waited for the momentum to carry the model to him, so he could send it back to the other side. He did this all day. Marion came outside to tend to her garden and enjoyed watching him play with the boat in the pond. She looked up to the sky, it was a nice and sunny day, but true to Floridian tradition, dark clouds were gathering and could strike at any moment. She frowned, looking at Chandler who’s boat had gotten stuck on a lily in the middle of the pong, and to the tank in the yard. Hansel said he wanted to work on that when he got home, she knew how excited her boys were to fix the tank, so she decided to go back on one of her early rules.

“Chandler!” She cried to get his attention. She looked to him and saw he was about to jump into the pond for his boat. She instantly switched gears. “Uh-uh! No! Do not jump in that pond!”

“But my model-!”

“No! Do not jump in that water!” She put her stuff down on her deck and started towards the pond. “I’ll get it.” Her long reach wasn’t enough to snatch it so she grabbed a cleaning rod off her hull rack and ever so carefully she nudged the boat to the shore where Chandler fetched it. He came back to her and she took the model from him. “Hey, go set the tank into neutral.”

“I think it already is.”

“Okay, we’re moving it inside.” Chandler was surprised. Marion went behind the other tank and grabbed its stern end with her large hands and arms. She tried pushing it without her engine, being so used to moving the little lightweight cars. “Oh! Silly me.” Her engine roared to life and she tried again, no luck. “Chandler set it into neutral!”

“It is!” He cried as he jumped onto the tank roof. “I just checked.”

Marion tried again, Chandler said that the brakes were off, too. Only at full throttle did it slowly budge, and after Marion had dug herself a little hole and taken a mud bath did she give up in frustration and tell Chandler that they were going to drive it in. They started it and drove it inside, just as it started to rain. Marion closed the hanger door and told Chandler to clean up the puddles and the mud on the ground. She broke off her tracks and left them by the door. She sat in the mainspace trying to decide whether or not to clean herself off inside or wait to do it outside on the concrete. Once Chandler had cleaned the mess he was rewarded with his model given back to him. “The first thing I want you to two to fix that drive train!” Marion commanded out of fury.

“To do that Mister Hansel said we have to take the turret off first.” Marion shuddered, she loathes the thought of that.

“Chandler, you can call him your father.” She said to immediately change the subject.

“I know,” Chandler said, he looked down at the model in his hands out of shame, “I’m not used to it, yet.”

“Well, you won’t get used to it unless you start.” She extended her arms out and looked at all the mud on her, her dissatisfaction was apparent.

“You don’t like being dirty… mom?” Marion scoffed and smiled.

“I personally don’t mind it too much. It’s your father who really cares. He’s very protective of us.” Chandler looked as she began running hands down her boxy metal arms to wipe filth away. “Do you like being dirty?” She invited to keep chatting, he doesn’t converse as much as she would like him to. “Boys your age should love playing in filth.”

“Sometimes, well, a little bit. If I’m too dirty I don’t feel good, but I like being dirty, I think it is a more real,” he struggled to find the right word.

“Personality?” She filled him in. He nodded.

“Yeah.”

“You certainly like playing in the dirt. What with all the little trenches you dig for your toy soldiers, always coming back in with black hands and fingernails.” He giggled, she always got on him for dirty hands at dinner.

“Mom, why didn’t you let me get my model from the pond? Is it because you think I’ll sink?” Marion slowed her cleaning down as she tried to think if she should tell him the truth or not. “I know Jasmine and mister-dad can’t swim anymore, but I can. I like swimming, too.” She shifted on her suspension and sighed.

“Yes, yes that’s part of it.” She admitted. “I didn’t know you could swim, Hansel can’t swim, he doesn’t know how, and we found out Jasmine is too heavy and weak to swim. I was scared you’d sink. Chandler, I really do see you as my son, so does Hansel.” He felt ashamed again. He apologized, she beckoned him over and sat him on her deck, taking the model to the side again. “You’re a smart kid, Chandler, with nobody telling you, you figured out that Hansel wasn’t always the way he is now. You’re observant enough to see the small differences-I’ve seen you studying their veins, they aren’t really human. They are! But, not completely. And, I did that to Hansel, we wanted to get old together, at the same rate, so I changed him into what he is now. It’s a terrible event to go through, I vowed to never do it again -but, when we adopted you, we knew that eventually we’d have to have this talk…” she cut right to the chase, she was unable to ease into it from there. “Eventually we have to tell you that you’re going to die well before us, unless I change you. That’s what I’m getting at, Chandler, I don’t want to have to bury you, so I forget you’re not like Jasmine. When you got older, we were going to ask if you’d want to be changed, too.” He was quiet, as usual, looking at his dirty kneecaps. “We love you, Chandler, we don’t want to see you for before us, sons bury fathers.”

“-In times of peace,” he added, “in times of war, father’s bury sons.” Marion wasn’t ready for that, she was shocked. “I know how it goes.” He looked teary eyed, thinking of death. Marion hugged him and slid him closer to her faceplate.

“It’s okay baby, I didn’t mean to upset you.” She ran a hand through his short hair, Hansel had recently cut it. “I miss your long hair, Chandler.” He shrugged. “So,” she asked, “do you like things a little dirty, or sparkling clean?” He shrugged again.

“I dunno. Dirty, I guess.” ‘That’s my boy!’ She thought to herself. She sent him off to play, fetched the buildable gantry for heavy lifting, and built it herself in Hannah’s room until Hansel got home.

When Hansel got home it was still raining and he had to know what happened when he saw Marion. She started griping to him about trying to push ‘The Bitch’ as Marion had started calling it since then, and persisted about the transmission being stuck. Hansel believed her, it’s the most annoying fault with the cat tanks. Banker was always careful with Marion- it was usually her own doing that put her transmission at risk. Hansel fetched Chandler from his room and they changed into old clothes before they began working. Marion had decided she absolutely did not want to see the decapitation process, so the first thing the boys did was drive the tank into Hannah’s room under the gantry. They cut the engine and Hansel began explaining to Chandler what the plan was. To summarize, they’re first removing the turret so getting the tools and parts in and out won’t be as bad, then they’re going to put the hull on blocks, and since the wife is so persistent about it, the first thing to be overhauled will be the transmission. However, the way Hansel referred to the transmission was akin to a legend, a mythical monster, the boogie man…

“I’ll tell you the nightmare stories you may have heard are a bit exaggerated. It was a problem, but it was a known problem, and they did try to remedy it. Replacing the few parts that usually broke is actually very easy… if you have the parts, that is. Getting to it, now that sucks.” Chandler asked him what usually broke, Hansel took him to the front of the hull and drew three vertical lines with his hand just inside of the drive sprocket they were closest to.

“Oh wow! It’s right there!?” Hansel nodded.

“Mm-hmm, final drive. The problem is that we have to take the treads off, and the drive wheel, remove the cover plate and all the gears of the final drive. Then, because when they break they tend to spread metal flakes and dust everywhere, we have to clean everything.” Chandler nodded, Hansel then pointed at the drive sprocket and slowly traced his finger towards the center of the vehicle. Chandler was horrified. “Everything.”

He told Chandler it might take them a month to get the whole thing cleaned, and not to worry about it too much. He reminded Chandler that first, they needed to get the turret off. Marion helped a little bit, mostly getting the gantry in the right spot and a turret basket holder set up for the turret to sit in. Once that was done and the boys were hooking chains up to the lifting eyes Marion said she had to start dinner and slammed the garage door shut so she didn’t have to watch. Hansel double-checked his work, and Chandler’s, then complimented Chandler on a good job and took him to the side where he was safe. Then Hansel went to the crane’s motor and turned it on. It warmed up and responded well to Hansel’s commands until there was tension on the chains. The motor cried and screamed terribly, Hansel slackened the chains and cut the motor.

“Why doesn’t Mis-mom like this part?” Hansel smiled.

“She hates it when I have to take hers off, that’s why.”

“Why do you take it off at all?” Hansel pointed at The Bitch.

“So if I need to, I can, and her turret doesn’t freeze, like this one.”

‘What do we do?”

“Find me a sledgehammer, and a metal pipe.” Candler acknowledged and went looking, eventually returning with what was asked for. Hansel explained what they were to do, go inside, Chandler holds the pipe to the turret ring and Hansel beats the pipe, and they got to it. They did one go around the turret, and tried again. It didn’t help. They did another go around and it still didn’t work, nor did the third go around. Now Hansel was frustrated, and also referred to the tank as The Bitch. Chandler didn’t know ‘bitch’ in German, in fact, he didn’t know any German swear words. Hansel and Marion were very clean around their children, so this one word that both Hansel and Marion keep saying that Chandler doesn’t know, after he’s been taught the reference nouns, he figured it’s a swear word.

“You’re swearing, aren’t you?” He asked. Hansel, bent backwards under the turret ring, his face flushed a brown-grey with blood and sweat, didn’t care to be clean anymore.

“Yes. Your mother has affectionately started calling it Die Hundin, which means The Bitch. I think I will also call it Die Hundin. He went back to whacking the pipe with the sledgehammer.

“Can I?” He asked meekly, Hansel stopped.

“Well, that’s its name now, you’d be insulting it if you didn’t.” He smiled at Chandler, who looked extraordinarily excited to call something a bitch in front of his parents. “This summer dad’s going to teach you all the cuss words he knows without trying, and mom’s not going to like it.”

“Can we christen it?”

“What?”

“Christen the tank… Die Hundin?” Hansel chuckled. 

“Sure son, we can christen the tank.” Chandler was bounding with energy after that. Once they finished a fourth rotation Hansel took a break, meanwhile Chandler opened the door and passed by Marion on his way to the fridge. He opened it up, searched around until he found a grape soda, and took it to the tank.

‘Hey, it’s late, you can’t have that!”

“Dad said I could use it!” She was delighted he called Hansel ‘dad,’ but… use it? The rear of the tank faced the three of them, Chandler stood between the armored cowlings for the exhaust pipes and raised the soda over his head. “We christen you… Die Hundin!” Marion’s jaw dropped and Hansel burst into laughter as Chandler smashed the soda can into the cowling’s upper lip. Soda sprayed and fizzed everywhere as the can ruptured.

“Excuse me!?” Marion blurted, making Hansel laugh even harder. “We don’t talk like that!” Chandler turned to explain, soda spraying his outfit, but Marion didn’t allow him the chance. “No! Absolutely not! No!”

“Marion, babe, it’s alright.” Hansel said, her glaring switched from Chandler to Hansel.

“No! Soon he’s going to be saying all the other ones, too!”

“He won’t know them until I teach him.” She glared harder at him. He shrugged. “You’re the one that married a mechanic.” Using the supernatural powers that all mothers are bestowed, she amplified her glaring another magnitude. He shook his head and looked at Chandler. “Clean up your mess, don’t leave it sticky, either.” He tossed out the can and wiped up the mess, Hansel tried again. In the absence of the motor wailing Marion realized the turret was coming off so she squealed and covered her eyes. “Oops…” Hansel said as he realized he hadn’t closed the door.

The turret creaked and groaned out of the socket. Chandler looked on with intense awe and curiosity as he could see the whole contraption easily. Once the basket was clean of the hull, Hansel told Chandler to crank the turret across the gantry. He approached the side opposite of Hansel and began, very quickly running out of breath. Still, he gave it his all, struggling and fumbling with it. He got halfway there and that was it, Hansel took over. Chandler’s arms were pounding as he spotted for Hansel, once lined up the turret was set on the maintenance stand and the motor was turned off. “Alright, babe, we’re done with the turret.” She exhaled a sigh of relief and got back to making dinner, thankfully nothing burned.

“How much does that thing weigh!?” Chandler burst out as he sat on the floor. Hansel scratched his head.

“I don’t remember exactly but I think it’s between twelve and fifteen tons.” Chandler was shocked. “Yeah, it’s very heavy. That’s a lot of metal, there.”

“Set the table, boys,” Marion called, “Dinner’s ready!”

The three of them ate a filling, delicious dinner. Marion excused the filthy boys of being dirty since they had just finished, it actually made her smile. Chandler tore into his food as fast as he could, but would pause and look at his hurting arms. Marion asked him how working with dad was, he simply complained that his arms hurt. Hansel looked at the treads, Marion noticed his gaze, and Hansel assured Chandler that the worst was yet to come. Marion grinned and shook her turret side to side. When dinner was finished Chandler expressed his wishes to just go to bed, which were granted-after he bathes. He trotted off to do so, happily. Hansel and Marion cleaned the table, Hansel inspected the tears on the turret and chassis while Marion loaded her new dishwasher. Hansel found that the grease was not only old, but it wasn’t ever rubbed in. All that was done was clean the old off and put the new on, the turret wasn’t spun around like it should have been to work the grease into the gears. He told Marion what he found, she wasn’t surprised. They wound down and went to bed, Hansel bathed and promised to one day make a shower big enough for both of them- a three decade promise. He returned to her as she laid down to relax and there he tried his luck with her. She wasn’t very receptive of him at the time.

“No,” she said coldly, still wrapping arms around him as he laid down, “I’m mad at you.” He flinched and snapped his fingers.

“Damn! Well, I figured. I thought I’d at least give it a shot.”

“Well then, was it worth it?” She asked sarcastically. Hansel knew his answer, but he jogged his memory anyways. Chandler standing there with the soda over his head, ‘We christen you… DIE HUNDIN!’ Hansel chuckled.

“Yes, it was well worth it.” He laced his fingers between hers and kissed the back of her hand, rolling under the covers. “And I can’t wait to make you mad again!”

Fin Chapter 8