Tasting the Apple

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Tasting the Apple Page 21

by Sherilyn Decter


  * * * *

  “Thank you for coming in, Colonel.” Mayor Kendrick’s smile becomes wider. He shakes Smedley Butler’s hand.

  “Of course, sir.” Butler sits ramrod straight in front of Kendrick’s desk. Freddy is puzzled by the unusual tension in the air. The colonel positively bristles with hostility. Arrogance sometimes. Disdain often. But the hostility is new. It’s like he’s dealing with an adversary rather than his superior. Freddy gives a small shudder and then forces a smile.

  “Colonel Butler—Smedley, I won’t beat around the bush. As you know, your leave of absence with the Marines is coming to an end, and I have decided that we cannot presume on their good graces any further.”

  Colonel Butler’s face remains cold, impassive; waiting for more information.

  “What I mean to say is that we will not be asking for an extension to your appointment.”

  “Excuse me, Mayor. But to be clear, am I being fired?”

  “I wouldn’t say fired. We, the people of Philadelphia and I, have been very pleased with your efforts. There has been extensive coverage in the newspapers about your successes. I’ve heard from many that the reduction in crime wouldn’t have been possible without you.”

  Mayor Kendrick—Freddy—fusses with his tie. Colonel Butler nods, recognizing the wisdom of the District Attorney’s previous advice. Stealing Kendrick’s spotlight may have been a tactical error.

  “We get many, many letters daily from grateful citizens. No, you’re doing an outstanding job, Colonel.”

  “And those efforts, Mayor. You’re satisfied with the progress we’ve made?”

  “Oh yes. We’ve had a significant crackdown on speakeasies and selling of illegal liquor.” The mayor chuckles, again fiddling with his tie. “I think we’ve probably had as many telephone calls from disgruntled saloon owners as there are letters of praise from private citizens.”

  “Yes, the speakeasy raids. It is indeed unfortunate that we have not been more successful.” Butler levels his gaze on the mayor. “It’s like they have a direct pipeline into our actions.”

  Freddy’s smile falters. He looks down at his desk, shuffles more paper, and clears his throat.

  “If I’m not being dismissed, then I am to continue to the end of my appointment in December?”

  “Colonel, we’re being selfish keeping a man of your skills away from your true calling. Your duty is to the Marines. Flag and country and all that. Regretfully, I’m afraid that we’re going to have to part ways. I know it must have been difficult to step into this post. I’m sure you’d prefer to return to your former command. And I encourage you to do that.”

  “I see. Returning to my former command. Strategic timing? Just to clarify, my leave is up in a few months. Would you like me to continue in my post until then, or leave immediately?” Butler asks.

  “Colonel. Please. You shouldn’t take this the wrong way. We’ve benefited from your efforts here in Philadelphia, and I hope that we can count on you until the leave officially ends, but it would be good for you to wind down. That way there’s no fuss. And we certainly don’t want to alert or alarm the public. No, that would not be good. However, I’m sure you’ll want to start making arrangements immediately. Write up your review. Consider this a heads up. This gives you time to prepare for your return to your previous posting; there’s bound to be lots of reading and catching up. People that need to be notified. New orders that will need to be drawn up.”

  In the face of Butler’s stony silence, Kendrick fusses with the papers on his desk again, avoiding catching Colonel Butler’s eye. “While you’re still performing your duties here,” Freddy pauses and draws a breath, “perhaps temper your approach a bit, Colonel? I don’t suppose you could do something about crime without causing quite so much concern?”

  “You sound like a patient asking his doctor to fix his liver so that he can keep drinking, Mayor.”

  “Ah yes, quite. Well, continue on, but gently, Colonel. And do let me know if your plans change and you’re ordered to return sooner.” Mayor Kendrick beams at the Colonel. “Ahem, any more raids planned in the meantime? Anything I should know about?” There’s a twinkle in his eye.

  Butler stands ramrod straight in front of the mayor’s desk. He looks down his long beak-like nose. His top lip curls, and then the stone-faced mask falls back into place. “No. We’re going to take a hiatus for the time being. I believe that was your direction, sir.”

  The mayor frowns, but nods, “Yes, that’s probably for the best.”

  Chapter 48

  M aggie, Tommy, Teddy, and his mother, Mrs. Galway, stroll along the museum hallways. This is the first time she’s met her accounting professor’s mother. It’s a significant step in any relationship and it has Maggie feeling nervous, young, excited; an almost forgotten combination not experienced since she and Jack courted. They had originally planned the outing for the park but, with the turn in the fall weather, decided on the museum instead. The facility is crowded, sounds bouncing off hard marble spaces. They make slow progress as Mrs. Galway is somewhat infirm, walking stiffly with a cane.

  “Don’t run, young man,” Mrs. Galway snaps. It has been a long time since she’s had a boy with Tommy’s exuberance to deal with. Maggie glances at Teddy. If she ever did.

  Teddy has his mother’s arm linked through his own. Maggie’s not sure if it’s for support or just a lifelong habit he’s acquired. That leaves Maggie on his other side, with Tommy trying to walk dutifully beside, but constantly being distracted by the exhibits.

  “Just think. In a few months, we’ll be strolling along the Sesquicentennial grounds. Won’t that be something, Mrs. Galway?” Maggie says.

  “A giant waste of money, if you ask me,” says Mrs. Galway. “Bill Vare and Freddy Kendrick. Now there’s a dangerous pair. Up to no good. Bad enough we have Kendrick as mayor, I hear that Vare is running for Senate. Better hide the silverware, Teddy.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Teddy steals a look at Maggie and smiles apologetically.

  “It’s such a beautiful day, Mother. Let’s not spoil it with talk of politics. Did I mention that Mrs. Barnes is a bookkeeper for several of the small businesses in her neighborhood?”

  Mrs. Galway gives Maggie a look she recognizes from her mother. “It’s no wonder your boy runs wild, Mrs. Barnes. With no mother at home. I have never approved of women setting aside their family responsibilities to work outside the home. Not during the war and not now.” Mrs. Galway strikes the floor forcefully with her cane with every pronouncement.

  Maggie leans awkwardly past Teddy so that she can speak directly to Mrs. Galway. “I work from home, Mrs. Galway, so I can be there when Tommy gets home from school.”

  “Mother, look. Knights’ armor like in King Arthur.” Tommy says, tugging at Maggie’s arm.

  “The museum is too crowded, Teddy. I was hoping for a quiet visit,” Mrs. Galway says, grousing to no one in particular. Maggie expects that she and Tommy are part of the unwanted hordes. Teddy absently pats his mother’s hand on his arm and gives Maggie another apologetic smile.

  Maggie had taken care dressing for this outing, choosing a longer skirt, glad for her practical, brown, wool coat, given the brisk breeze outside. The small hat on her head sports a pheasant feather, almost in defiance. But there has been only disapproval in Mrs. Galway’s glances and comments since she and Tommy had climbed into Teddy’s car. Nerts to you, too.

  A Sunday afternoon tour, followed by lunch at Green’s. It had sounded like a lovely day when Teddy had first proposed it to Maggie over one of their regular ‘coffee-after-class’ dates. But Mrs. Galway appears determined to drive any enjoyment away.

  Walking along the corridors, past the stuffed animals and ancient artifacts, Maggie daydreams. At least she and Mother would get along. Maybe too much? I’d be a bone between two snarling dogs. Maggie shudders. Being Mrs. Teddy Galway would be nice. No worries. A good home for Tommy. But would we have our own home, or would we be living with his mother? Magg
ie shudders again. I ran away from home to get away from my mother. Why would I want to run up the front steps into another house with a different one? Maybe one even worse?

  “Are you chilled, Mrs. Barnes? You seem to be shivering.” Teddy looks at Maggie with concern.

  “No, I’m fine, Professor Galway.”

  Mrs. Galway peers past Teddy to have a good look at Maggie. “She looks peaked, Teddy. Is she sickly?”

  “I’m fine. Really. Thank you for your concern, Mrs. Galway.” Whatever was I thinking? Teddy may be a kind and gentle man, but there’s no future with Mrs. Galway in the picture.

  “That’s a lovely hat, Mrs. Barnes,” Teddy says. His admiring gaze takes in more than her hat.

  “Thank you, Professor Galway.” Maggie blushes, suddenly optimistic that the day can still be salvaged.

  “I’m not an admirer of today’s fashions. Far too much skin exposed. An ankle caused an uproar when I was a girl, and now suddenly we’ve got knees on display. It says a lot about a woman by how much leg she flashes around. It always looks a bit desperate to me. Cheap.”

  Maggie looks down at her mid-calf skirt and suddenly wishes it were shorter.

  “Now look at that. That’s exactly what I am talking about,” Mrs. Galway says, pointing ahead with her cane. “A loose woman if there ever was one.”

  Teddy, Maggie, and Tommy both scan the broad corridor ahead.

  Oh no.

  “Mrs. Duffy. Hiya, Mrs. Duffy.” Tommy shakes loose Maggie’s grip on his hand and dashes ahead to Edith and Mickey, who are also strolling along, enjoying the exhibits.

  “Why, look at you, Tommy Barnes. Grown a good six inches since I saw you last.” Edith gives Tommy a big hug. Maggie gives a silent chortle. She can see what caused Mrs. Galway’s consternation. Edith is wearing a bright purple coat and matching dress and hat. The broach pinned to the hat sparkles brilliantly, and its three purple feathers stand at attention. Beneath the ruffle of the dress, Edith’s beautiful knees are on full display to many admiring glances.

  “Edith, you’re the last person I expected to see today.” Maggie leans in to give her friend a peck on the cheek.

  “I was feeling housebound, and convinced Mickey to bring me here. When you mentioned that you were planning a visit, I just knew I had to check out the exhibits myself.” Edith winks.

  “Mrs. Galway, Professor Galway, I’d like you to meet my good friends, Mr. and Mrs. Mickey Duffy. Edith, this is my professor from school, Teddy Galway and his mother, Mrs. Galway.”

  Mickey tips his hat.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Teddy. Maggie talks non-stop about—”Edith is stopped by Maggie’s sudden cough.

  “Talks non-stop about school and accounting. She just loves your…” Edith pauses and winks at Teddy, “class.”

  Oh please, floor, just swallow me up now.

  “Mickey Duffy, you say? You must find it a burden to share a name with that notorious murdering gangster, Mr. Duffy.” Mrs. Galway gestures toward Mickey with the tip of her cane.

  Edith and Maggie smother their amusement with gloved hands, although Maggie’s mood is tinged with a touch of panic.

  “What is it that you do, Mr. Duffy?” Mrs. Galway demands, cross at the reaction to her last statement.

  “I bring comfort to the masses, Mrs. Galway,” Mickey says. Mrs. Galway misses his smirk.

  “It’s a mission you run then, Mr. Duffy?”

  “In a manner of speaking. The Cadix could be thought of like a mission of sorts. Despondent masses making their way through the doorway, looking for respite from the cares of the world.” Edith jabs him in the ribs with her elbow, choking back her laughter.

  “Excuse me, Mrs. Galway. Professor. Apparently, we need to be on our way. It was great seeing you again, Mrs. Barnes,” says Mickey. He tips his hat as Edith drags him away.

  “Bye, Edith. Talk to you soon,” Maggie calls after her friend.

  “The Cadix. You mean that nightclub? Oh, Teddy, I think that may have been the gangster himself,” Mrs. Galway says, squinting at the retreating backs of Edith and Mickey, whose shoulders are shaking with laughter.

  Teddy looks at Maggie. Maggie shrugs. No explanation can make this situation better.

  “Teddy. I think we should go back to the car. I’ve had enough of the museum.” Mrs. Galway plants her cane firmly on the ground. “And I’m not sure that, after that shock, I’m up for lunch, either.”

  Teddy hovers over his mother, fussing. “Are you sure, Mother? You do look a bit pale. Would you like to wait on this bench while I bring the car around?”

  “No, I think I can manage to make it to the car, sweetheart. But I should go home and lie down. You’re a good boy, Teddy. Come, let’s go,” Mrs. Galway says, patting Teddy’s cheek.

  Maggie turns to Tommy, who looks hopeful the awful afternoon may be over and he can go play with his friends.

  Teddy changes direction and he and Mrs. Galway head off the way they’ve just come. “Of course, Mother. Let me take your arm. Now, let’s go slowly. We don’t want to overdo it.”

  Maggie and Tommy slowly trail after the pair, any promise in the day now almost faded.

  Chapter 49

  M aggie holds Archie’s arm tightly. They are being jostled and buffeted by the huge crowd that has come out in support of Colonel Butler. Since the news broke that Mayor Kendrick was not renewing the colonel’s contract, people have risen up in protest. There is general agreement in Philadelphia that he has been the force driving the change sweeping the city: speakeasies closing down, booze-cans, gin-joints, and beer flats shut, crooked cops put away. Without him, the public is afraid that—heck, there is no ‘that’—without him people are just afraid.

  “Is Joe working tonight?” Archie shouts in Maggie’s ear. “The entire department seems to be here to keep order. You think they’re worried there might be a riot?”

  “Certainly our newest tenant, Dick Beamish from the Inquirer, seems to think so. Do you think we can get any closer? I can’t see a thing,” Maggie says, straining to see around the man standing in front of her.

  “With so many people inside the arena, I think we should stand close to one of the exits, just in case. You never know. This crowd is pretty worked up.”

  While they can’t see the stage, they can certainly hear the voices through the speakers. Leaders from several church groups go first, and then a woman from the Christian Women’s Temperance League speaking on the evils of alcohol and the colonel’s heroic efforts to curb its ruinous advance. Always eager to appear at the front of any parade, the governor as well as State and Federal senators have a few remarks.

  “We want the colonel. We want the colonel.” The crowd chants.

  “Be ready. I’m not liking how this is going,” says Archie. His head is swivelling from side to side, scanning the crowd.

  “We can’t go yet. I want to hear Colonel Butler speak.”

  Colonel Smedley Butler, cape swirling, medals on full display, approaches the podium. He grips the edges and looks sternly at the crowd.

  “Citizens of Philadelphia. Brave souls. You are living in trying and dangerous times. You have been abandoned. When I leave, who will protect you? The mayor?”

  The crowd screams, “NO!”

  “The police?”

  The crowd screams “NO!”

  “Make no mistake, good citizens. From his chair in City Hall, Mayor Kendrick is leading a corrupt city. He has held back our attempts to restore the safety and security of Philadelphia. He interferes in police business. He has prevented me from enforcing the Volstead Act and the law. He is a disloyal chief. But alas, it is not he that is leaving, but myself. I have been betrayed. And that means you have been betrayed by those in whom you placed your trust.”

  The crowd chants. “Butler! Butler!”

  “I have tried to do my duty. But cannot carry it alone. Each one of you has a duty to perform as well. You MUST demand clean government.” The Colonel punches the air above his head. The c
rowd roars. “You MUST take a stand against corruption!” Again, he punches the air. The crowd roars. “You MUST use your power in the ballot box to drive this corruption from office.”

  The crowd surges toward the podium. Police form a barricade in front of the stage.

  “You MUST demand the separation of politics and policing.” Again, arm raised. “The police are the servants of the people, the servants of justice. Not the servants of the mayor and City Hall.” The crowd roars its approval.

  “This is the City of Brotherly Love. It should be a beacon. Instead, it is a cesspool. Get down from the bleachers, good citizens of Philadelphia, and join the procession. Do what you must to protect your families and your city. Demand that if I go—he goes.”

 

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