We rose and received a round of applause.
Fox continued. “As I understand it, one of Walt’s tenants, Jerry Singer, is the poet laurate in the building. He tells me he has prepared a poem to commemorate tonight’s festivities. Jerry, the mike is yours.
“Oh, crap!” I muttered. You just never know what Jerry might come up with.
Jerry strode up to the mike and smiled. “I call this little ditty, ‘The old men and the train.’”
There once were two guys and forsooth
It is said they were long in the tooth
But by using their brains
They saved several trains
From jerks who were being uncouth
The first was a train filled with oil
If it wrecked, oh what plans it would spoil
But they saved such a glitch
By throwing a switch
And a terrorist plot they did foil
The next was a train filled with gas
If it wrecked what a pain in the ass
But Walt is an ace
When given a case
With an outcome that’s hard to surpass
The next train to save was Amtrak
It goes to St. Louis and back
But John saved the day
In his usual way
For heroics he has quite a knack
Then came the parade for the Chiefs
It could have ended in grief
For some whippersnapper
Put a bomb in the crapper
Then stole off in the night like a thief
But Walt arrived on the scene
With senses ever so keen
He went in for a squirt
But with senses alert
The place of the bomb he did glean
A train filled with nuclear waste
Was moving along with great haste
It was supposed to explode
With its dangerous load
The most harrowing thing Walt had faced
But he put on his engineer’s hat
And bravely came up to bat
He stopped it in time
And prevented a crime
His back deserves a big pat
And now that it’s all said and done
And the day the good guys have won
We hope you’ll depart
You terrorist fart
And out of our town you will run
To the bad guys here’s one final word
And the message we hope will be heard
So we raise our hand high
Right up to the sky
As we gladly flag you the bird
Jerry took a deep bow as the crowd roared with glee.
The Professor, who was seated at our table, leaned over and whispered, “That last line of Jerry’s poem, the one about flagging the bird, I wonder if you know how that phrase originated?”
Actually, I didn’t. I had seen people giving each other the finger for as long as I could remember, but I had no idea how it got started.
“No, I don’t, but something tells me I’m about to.”
“It all started with the Battle of Agincourt in 1415. The French, anticipating victory over the English, proposed to cut off the middle finger of all captured English soldiers. Without the middle finger it would be impossible to draw the renowned English longbow and therefore they would be incapable of fighting in the future. This famous English longbow was made of the native English Yew tree, and the act of drawing the longbow was known as ‘plucking the yew’ or ‘pluck yew.’
“Much to the bewilderment of the French, the English won a major upset and they began mocking the French by waving their middle fingers at the defeated French, saying, ‘See, we can still pluck yew!’ Since ‘pluck yew’ is rather difficult to say, the difficult consonant cluster, Pl, at the beginning has gradually changed to an ‘F’, and thus, the words often used in conjunction with the one-fingered salute! It is also because of the pheasant feathers on the arrows used with the longbow that the symbolic gesture is known as ‘giving the bird.’”
I looked at him in amazement. “Is that really true.”
He gave me a devilish grin. “Damned if I know.”
The Professor has definitely been spending too much time with Jerry.
After Jerry had taken his seat, Fox picked up the mike. “Walt, please come up front.”
I hesitated, but at the urging of the crowd, I made my way to the front.
“Walt,” Fox said. “As I mentioned before, your heroic actions have saved the Kansas City Terminal Railway, Union Pacific, BNSF Railway, and Amtrak, thousands, maybe even millions of dollars. We would like to acknowledge this by presenting to your favorite charity, a check in your name in the amount of $25,000. Where would you like it to go?”
I was stunned.
As I looked out into the crowd, I spotted Harley and Delbert in their new Salvation Army duds, and I remembered seeing the others in the homeless camp, huddled around a fire to keep warm. I remembered seeing a child clinging to its mother’s skirt outside their ramshackle tent.
The decision was easy.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Fox. That’s very generous. I’d like the money to go the people at the homeless camp down by the tracks. Maybe get them some warm clothing, food, and maybe even pay for a warm place for them to sleep while the weather’s so cold.”
I pointed to Harley and Delbert. “It was those two gentlemen who first saw the terrorist heading toward the tanker train. If they hadn’t called me, we might not be having this meeting tonight.”
The Wiggins brothers blushed as the crowd gave them a round of applause.
“I think we can do that,” Fox said.
And with that, the evening came to a close.
Another disaster had been averted and help was coming to the people huddled in shanties down by the tracks.
CHAPTER 17
“Allah is testing us,” Yasir said with conviction. “He is testing us to see if we are worthy to fight in His great jihad. That must be it. It is the only way an old man could confound us so many times.
“But we will persist! We will not stop until our foe is vanquished and we have carried out our mission.”
“But how?” Mostafa asked. “The Feds are watching his building day and night.”
“That’s true, my friend,” Yasir said, smiling, “but I have learned that the old man owns another building, a flop house on Linwood Boulevard. I have also learned that the old woman who runs the place is a personal friend of Williams. We will use that to our advantage to lure him into a trap.”
“What a dump!” Ahmad said, as they cruised by the old hotel. “Who would want to live there?”
At that moment, two old men sauntered onto the front porch.
“There,” Yasir said. “Now you see what the capitalist pigs’ Social Security provides for their elderly. There is a back entrance. We will park on the next block and enter through the back just in case someone is watching.”
The three terrorists parked and climbed the stairs to the second floor sleeping rooms where they met an old man emerging from one of the hall baths.
“Hey, gents,” the old man said. “Can I help you find someone?”
Yasir was about to answer when they were engulfed by a foul smell emanating from the recently vacated bathroom.
“Praise Allah!” Mostafa muttered. “That reeks of a dead camel rotting in the desert sun.”
Yasir regained his composure. “Yes, please. We are looking for the woman who manages this establishment.”
“That’d be Mary,” the old man replied. “She has the apartment on the front porch. There’s a ‘manager’ sign above her door. You can’t miss it.”
“Thank you. We’ll be going now.”
“How can people live like this?” Mostafa asked, taking deep breaths as they headed down the front steps.
They found the door to Mary’s apartment and knocked.
A robust woman in her mid-
seventies opened the door. “Yeah, whadda you want? If you’re looking for a room, we’re full up.”
“Are you Mary?” Yasir asked.
“Maybe,” she replied, suspiciously. “Who’s asking?”
“I am,” Yasir replied, pointing a gun at her head. “Get inside.”
Once inside, Yasir tossed several zip ties to Mostafa. “Bind her hands.”
“What the hell!” Mary bellowed. “Who are you guys?” Then it hit her. “You’re those damned A-rab freaks who have been trying to blow things up. Bernice told me about you.”
“Very perceptive. Give me your phone.”
“I ain’t giving you nothing!”
He was about to slap her across the face when he spotted her cell phone on the table. He picked it up and punched the speed dial.
“Ahhh, here it is. Walt Williams.”
I was at my desk opening the mail when my cell phone rang. The caller ID said, ‘Mary Murphy.’
“Good morning, Mary. What can I do for you?”
The voice that answered was not Mary.
“And good morning to you, Mr. Williams. I am here with your friend, Mary. I have a message for you. If you want to see the old woman again, you will come to the hotel alone.”
I heard Mary in the background. “Who you callin’ an old woman! Give me my bat and I’ll show you old! Mr. Walt! It’s those damned A-rabs. Don’t do what they say!”
“Mostafa!” Yasir ordered. “Shut her up!”
I heard a ‘slap.’
“Owww! Hittin’ an old woman! Your momma must be real proud!”
“Quiet! If you shout again, it will be worse.”
“Now, Mr. Williams. Like I said, come to the hotel alone. If you bring your friends from Homeland Security, your friend dies. If you call the police, your friend dies. If I see your partner or your father, your friend dies. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I get the picture.”
“Good! We mean no harm to your friend. It’s you we want. Your life for that of your friend, and all the other poor souls in this building. Cross us, and no one will leave here alive.”
“I understand.”
“You have fifteen minutes. If you are not here, I will start shooting and Mary will be the first.”
“I’ll be there.”
I knew that once Yasir had me there, neither Mary or I would leave alive. These were men who were willing to kill thousands of innocent people by blowing up tankers of ammonia and containers of nuclear waste. The lives of two old people would mean nothing to them.
A plan began to form in my mind.
I called Willie, my maintenance man who lives in a studio apartment in our basement.
“Willie, grab your drill and as many funnels as you can find and meet me at my car --- and hurry!”
My next call was to Mark.
“Mark, Walt here. Yasir and his goons are at the Three Trails. They have Mary and want to make a swap --- her for me. You know that’s not going to happen. I have a plan for a diversion. You need to get your guys here ASAP. He says he’s going to start shooting people in fifteen minutes.” I looked at my watch. “That was three minutes ago.”
“Jesus, Walt! There’s no way I can get my team there in ten minutes. The only one close enough is Gus, the guy who’s watching your building.”
“Then I’ll have to make do with that. Just get there as soon as you can.”
I hurried down the stairs and found Gus across the street.
He rolled down the window. “Mark just called. How can I help?”
“The three terrorists are holding a friend of mine in her apartment at the Three Trails Hotel. I’m going to create a diversion. You need to park a block away where they can’t see you, then sneak onto the front porch. When I yell, ‘NOW’, you bust in, guns blazing. Got it?”
“Let’s go!”
At that moment, Willie arrived carrying his drill and three funnels.
“What in de world is goin’ on?”
“Get in the car and I’ll explain everything on the way to the hotel.”
I parked on the street in back of the hotel, crossed a neighbor’s yard and headed up the back stairway to the second floor sleeping rooms.
I had just entered the hall when I met Harley and Delbert coming out of their rooms.
“Hey, Mr. Walt. What’s going on?”
Perfect! I thought. “How would you guys like to help me catch the terrorists that have been trying to blow us up?”
Their faces broke into a big smile. “Jus’ tell us what to do.”
I took them to the #4 bathroom. I knew it was right above Mary’s apartment.
“Okay, here’s what I want you to do. Willie, bore three holes in the floor, put the funnels in the holes, and pour as much water into them as you can. I want the ceiling below to collapse. Got it!”
“You bet!”
I had brought my boom box along to mask the noise of the drill. I punched the button and Bob Seger’s raspy voice filled the smelly bathroom.
Just take those old records off the shelf
I’ll sit and listen to ‘em by m’self
“Okay guys, start drilling!”
I knocked on Mr. Feeney’s door.
“Hey, Mr. Walt.”
“Mr. Feeney, I need your help.”
“Sure! Anything.”
“I need you to go to Mary’s apartment, knock on the door, and when she opens it, tell her that the toilet in the #4 bathroom is stopped up and leaking all over everything. Can you do that?”
“Sure can, but Mary’s got company.”
“I know, and they’re very bad guys. They’re holding Mary hostage. What you’re going to do will help us save her.”
“When do you want me to do it?”
I looked at my watch. It had been fourteen minutes since I’d received Yasir’s call. “Right now! And hurry!”
Yasir looked at his watch. “Your friend has one minute to show up. If not, it will be time to say goodbye.”
“Kiss my ass!” Mary muttered, giving him the evil eye.
Yasir shook his head in disgust. “What is that infernal noise coming from upstairs?”
Mary had to think fast. “Uhh, that’s Billy in number 6. Sometimes he gets carried away with his music. I tell him, but he forgets.”
At that moment, there was a knock on the door.
“Ahhh,” Yasir said, “your friend is just in time.”
He peeked out the window. “It’s not Williams. It’s that smelly old man we met upstairs.” He turned to Mary. “Tell him to go away or I’ll have to shoot him too.”
“Mr. Feeney!” Mary shouted. “Go away. I’m busy.”
“Can’t, Ms. Mary. It’s urgent.”
“Just tell me and then let me alone.”
“Well, okay. The toilet in the #4 crapper is stopped up and nasty water is runnin’ all over the floor. What do you want me to do?”
“Don’t do nothin’. I’ll call Willie. Just go back in your room and close your door. Oh, yeah, one more thing. Tell Billy to turn down his damned music!”
“Okay, just thought you should know.”
“Very good,” Yasir said, “but I’m afraid your time has run out.”
Just then, there was another knock.
Yasir peeked through the curtain. “Well, well, your friend arrived just in the nick of time.
He opened the door. “Come in Mr. Williams.”
I stepped inside Mary’s apartment.
“Mary, are you okay?”
“I’m a hell of a lot better than they’re gonna be if I get my hands on my bat!”
I knew I had to stall a few minutes to give Gus time to sneak up onto the porch. I glanced up and saw a big wet spot on the ceiling. The timing had to be just right for everything to work as I’d planned.
“Okay, Yasir, I’m here. You can let Mary go now. That was our deal.”
He smiled. “I’m afraid I can’t honor my part of our arrangement, but I’m glad you did. I’m afrai
d neither of you will be leaving today.”
I glanced up and the spot on the ceiling was getting bigger. I saw a few drips starting to fall.
“Before you do what you’ve got to do, tell me why. Why blow up trains carrying nuclear waste to kill hundreds of people? You owe me that?
“I owe you nothing! You wouldn’t understand anyway. Your poor in this country are better off than most of the people in my country. For you, life is good. You flip a switch and lights come on. You turn a tap and have fresh running water. You go to the store and food is there for the taking.
“What you don’t realize is that your whole existence is like a house built of cards. One virus and your electrical grid is down. Another virus and your banking system is in ruins. A well-placed bomb on a train and a whole city is brought to its knees. One day, everything is normal. The next day, your house of cards comes tumbling down and you will know how the rest of the world lives.
“Suffice it to say that my people have some very big surprises for you complacent Americans. And you have been in our way from the beginning. That all ends today.”
Just as he was leveling his gun at my head, there was a ‘CRAAAAK’ and a ‘WHOOOOSH.’ Water and plaster came raining down just as Bob Segar was wailing, “I like that old time rock and roll.”
As the three terrorists scattered, I knew it was now or never. “NOW!” I shouted, then grabbed Mary and threw her to the floor behind the couch.
Gus busted through the door. “Drop your guns! Hands in the air!”
Now a torrent of water was cascading into the apartment. Gus was in the doorway, Mary and I were hunkered behind her couch, and the bad guys were on the opposite side of the deluge that was pouring into the room.
I could hear sirens approaching in the distance.
“Out now!” Yasir ordered. “We must go!”
[Lady Justice 41] - Lady Justice and Terror on the Tracks Page 9