The Million Dollar Typewriter

by Murray Segal

  “What in the world can we do about that?”

  “Not much but we can be alert and be ready to run on a moment’s notice. I doubt that they would try anything in public so we avoid being alone by ourselves. We could possibly go to the police or even hire a bodyguard. Since we really don’t know for sure that the Smiths were here to keep an eye on us we should wait a bit before we do anything drastic. If we went to the police, they would probably laugh us out the door. Nice job of wheedling the information out of the B & B owner though.”

  “Por nada. I also paid our bill by the way. We can stay for breakfast in the morning or not, as we wish.”

  “Are you up for one last meal at Le Grande Saut?”

  “Sure. Let’s go for an early dinner. I need to be fresh in the morning for my interview and a long night’s sleep will help.”

  We do dinner and return to the B & B. Silvia hits the sack immediately and starts making soft snoring noises after about 10 minutes. I start to think what I might do for a follow up story to the street interviews. I decide that logically I should get a reaction from the police department on what the people are saying about crime. Good. I’ll work on that in the morning. My paranoia moves me to push a chair against the door before I go to bed. Too many bad movies and TV shows.

  In the morning, we do have breakfast at the B & B (it’s included in the room rent and a penny saved is a penny earned). I load up the car and we head for The Williams Apartments. We already have a key to the place. When we enter the apartment, we are pleasantly surprised. They have done a great job.

  “Look. They even found a desk for the second bedroom and the paint has been freshened up here and there. While you are having your interview at UMPI, I will pick up some linens and towels. Is there anything else we will need?”

  “Well, soap, shampoo and TP. Forget about groceries, I don’t trust you with that. I’ll do that later.”

  “OK. I’m sure you knock them dead. Good luck.”

  “Bad choice of words, especially for a writer, but thanks for the sentiment anyhow. Keep your cell on. I’ll call when I am done.”

  She knows my feelings about cellphones. I hate them and frequently leave mine turned off. There are some modern conveniences that I would just as soon be without. A cellphone tops the list. We cart our stuff into the apartment and I drop Silvia off at the university.

  The first thing that I do when I get back to the apartment is to call Moose with my throwaway cell. I didn’t want to do that from the newspaper office for reasons of confidentiality. The Sears operator puts me on hold while she connects me to the automotive department and tracks down Moose.

  “Good morning Moose. This Harry Stein. How are you today?”

  “I’m good. And You?”

  “I’m ok. The reason I am calling is I wonder if with all your contacts, you might be able to find out some background facts on a couple of people up here.”

  “I can try. Are they bad guys?”

  “Well, I’m not sure. Silvia and I have been staying at The Maple Tourist Home in Grand Falls, New Brunswick for the last few days. A couple showed up at the Inn and then they also turned up in Presque Isle where we were doing some work. Maybe just a coincidence and maybe they were tracking us. They are registered under James and Sally Smith and they spoke with a heavy Germanic accent. They also signed in as residents of Houlton. I thought that you might be able to check around and tell us whether there is such a couple in the Houlton area.”

  “I will check all my sources here but I’m very sure that there is no such couple by that name living around here. I’ll make some calls and get in touch with you tonight.”

  “Great. Call me on my cell. The number is 878-6401.”

  “My regards to Silvia.”

  I remember that I might have a typewriter waiting for me at the antique shop so I stop there. The owner has dug a large office typewriter out of his barn. It is not the same model as the MDTW but it is a large office model of a similar vintage and will suit the purpose.

  “I kind of like that large office machine if it’s not too expensive.”

  “Excellent, the price is only six hundred dollars.”

  “Um, that is out of my price range,” I offer. I have slipped into my negotiating mode. “Sorry,” and I start to move toward the door. I can see him flinch a bit and I know I have him hooked.

  “You seem to know your typewriters. What would you pay for it?”

  “If it were in pristine condition, I would pay six hundred dollars for it. Obviously, you can see that it is extremely dirty from sitting in your barn and rust has started to develop in the interior which will be very difficult and time consuming to get rid of. With that in mind. I would pay $250.00 for it. It’s so full of rust and dirt I may never be able to make it work.”

  “Alright, you have a deal.”

  I plunk down three one hundred dollar bills, get my change and head for the apartment where I stow the machine away in a closet. Next up is the Aroostook Centre Mall. I roam around and pick up some bed clothes, towels and other odds and ends that we need. Also, some cleaning materials that I will need to put the new typewriter in better condition. It’s now close to lunch time. Just a few minutes before noon, my cell chirps.

  “You may come pick me up. I’ll be waiting for you in front of the Campus Center Building.”

  “See you in a few minutes.”

  She is waiting for me on the sidewalk and I know by the smirk on her face that she has good news.

  “Am I looking at college instructor Stein?”

  “No, you are not.”

  “Oh, by the look on your face I thought you had some good news.”

  “I do. You are looking at UMPI’s newest Assistant Professor of English. Please show the proper respect.”

  “I bow down to you and will be your love slave for 24 hours. However, since you are now gainfully employed, dinner will be on you. By the way, I picked up some bed clothes, towels and some of the other necessities for our apartment. We can try out the bed, just as soon as you make it.”

  “You caught me at the just the right moment. I might just buy you dinner and put you to work as my love slave. But first we need to stock up on groceries. I noticed a market named Graves Supermarket right on Main Street We’ll go there for the basics and then try and find a health food store.”

  “Your love slave is here to help.”

  It takes us about an hour and a half to load up on the basic foods and condiments. Silvia reads just about every label in her search for all natural ingredients. It takes her twice as long to grocery shop than anyone I know. Back at the apartment we put the food away.

  “I’ve looked on the Toshiba trying to find a natural health food store but I don’t see one that works for me. Let’s postpone that for another day and make dinner now.”

  “Bummer. I was looking forward to some tofu. I’ll just grin and bear it.”

  “I’m sure you will grin, at least.”

  By now you probably have guessed what she makes for dinner. A gigantic salad made with mostly organic veggies and two tiny hamburgers. I am thankful for the hamburger even though it is barely four bites. I fill up on lettuce, carrots and cucumbers. Better than nothing.

  “What’s for dessert?”

  Great, she was not able to find any So Frozen Almond Milk. I can’t stand almond flavored anything. And wonder of wonders, she settled on Haagen-Dazs ice cream. I am an ice cream snob and refuse to eat most brands but Haagen-Dazs is at the top of my list. I spruce up the plain vanilla with a liberal dollop of blueberry preserves.

  After dinner, we outfit the bathroom with towels, washcloths, soap and the other personal essentials.

  “Help me make the bed, Harry.”

  “Gladly.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up too high. We’ve had a long and tiring day. All I have in mind is sleep.”

  Moments after I fall asleep, the phone wakes me.

  “If this is someone’s idea of a joke, it ain’t funn
y.” I almost turn the phone off but then I remember Moose promising to call.

  “Harry, don’t hang up. It’s Moose.”

  “Sorry, Moose. I forgot you were going to call. Silvia and I both had tiring days and fell asleep a few minutes ago.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry. I can call back tomorrow morning.”

  “No, go ahead. What did you find out?”

  “Plenty. I checked the area like I promised and there are a lot of Smiths in the area but none living in or around Houlton named Smith who speaks with a German accent. So, my feeling about them was correct. Given that I suspect they are up to no good, I would avoid them like the plague.”

  “The damage has already been done. They haven’t done anything illegal as far as I know so I can’t go to the police. We will just watch out for them. My sense is that they are simply keeping track of us and mean us no immediate harm.”

  “Ok. But if they are following you they must be up to nothing good. Do you want some protection? I know people up there.”

  “Thanks for asking. We appreciate your concern and we may ask for some more help later.”

  “Are you armed?”

  “Well, no. Can you help with that?”

  “Yes. I know of several shops in and around PI.”

  “I’d rather not buy any guns here in Presque Ilse. If they are following us, I’d rather they thought we were unarmed and helpless. You follow my reasoning?”

  “Yes, I do. How about in Caribou?”

  “That’d be great.”

  “Try Big Al’s Gun Shop. It’s a small shop in an out of the way location. Don’t be put off by its run-down appearance. They do good work and their prices are reasonable. They can also train you in the use of the equipment they sell. Tell Al that I sent you.”

  “Thanks Moose. You might tell your Uncle Steven up in New Sweden to be on the lookout for us, just in case we need to get away from here in a hurry.”

  “I will. His number is 207 492 8885.”

  I hang up and hear Silvia mumbling, “Who was that?”

  I think that’s what she said.

  “Nothing. Later. In the morning.”

  At breakfast, Silvia remembers the call and asks again who it was.

  “That was Moose. He called to tell us that there was no one living in the Houlton area who fit the description of our friends the Smiths. No surprise there. Moose was concerned that we were walking around with bad guys tracking us and that we were completely unarmed. Unable to defend ourselves, if it came to that.”

  “What are you holding back? I read you like a book and I know there is more.”

  “I was going to wait until after breakfast to tell you when you are less likely to get upset. Moose thinks we should arm ourselves and it makes perfect sense to me. He has a friend up in Caribou who has a gun shop and firing range. We’ll change our plans for today drive up there and buy a couple of handguns.”

  “What do you mean? A couple of hand guns. How many does one man need?”

  “Only one but you should have one as well.”

  “WHY ME? I’ve never touched a gun in life. I’m scared to death off guns.”

  “Exactly our point. Better to be scared of a gun than to be dead by one. Now’s an appropriate time to touch one and to learn how to use it. Don’t you think? Your life might depend on it. Ok?”

  “Ugh. I think I’m going to lose breakfast.”

  “Which is why I wanted to wait to tell you.”

  “Ok. I will grit my teeth and do it. But why are we going all the way to Caribou?”

  “I didn’t want our friends to know that we were armed, so I was the one to suggest a more remote place where it would be difficult for anyone to follow us. As long as we drive around before we leave and make sure that no one is following us we should be able to get to Caribou without anyone knowing. We need every edge we can find and if the bad guys do catch up with us we will need them to be close to us before we whip out our guns and blow holes in them. Can you be ready in 15 minutes?”

  “Sure. This danger has been hanging over us like a dark cloud but now it feels like it’s not a cloud at all but a heavy lead weight on top of my head.”

  “We shall overcome; we shall overcome.”

  “Lord. Your humor sucks,” she says. But I detect her struggling to hold back a giggle.

  “Ok Annie let’s go get your gun.” This does draw out a full laugh or two from her, albeit with a bit of a nervous edge to them.

  We get in the car and drive slowly around downtown PI to make sure that no one is following us. No one is, so I head north on Route 1 toward Caribou. When I get out of town, I call Big Al and tell him we are on our way. Moose has already talked to him and he tells me that he has several hand-guns in mind and will spend all the time we need to learn how to handle them. Then, we can practice on his range for as long as we want. I tell Silvia the details of our conversation as we drive. I detect a small sigh from her which she tries to cover up. Good, I think. She is getting used to the idea of having a gun in her purse.

  “I notice that you keep looking back out the rear window. You don’t see anyone following us, do you?”

  I know she doesn’t because I have watching in the rear-view mirror.

  “No. There was a bright yellow SUV behind us for a few miles it turned off onto a side road.”

  We arrive at Big Al’s without incident. Big Al is big. I mean bigger than Moose. I’d say six and a half feet tall and pushing 300 pounds. His place is deep into the woods on a narrow dirt road that needs some grading. But it is passable. Guy that big doesn’t need a gun to protect himself. We enter his shop which is shabby looking on the outside. It’s so bad that I worry that Moose has sent us to a third world gun shop. The inside is quite another story with enormous displays of rifles, shotguns and hand guns. All the major manufacturers are in the house.

  “Hi. My name is Harry Stein and this is my wife Silvia.”

  “Hello. I’m big Al the owner of the best gun shop east of the Mississippi. I got a call earlier from my friend Moose down in Houlton. He said you were in some kinda trouble and needed to arm yourself. Have you owned firearms in the past?”

  “Well I used to have a BB gun and I have fired a 22-caliber pistol owned by my friend Murray Burnstine. That was ages ago so you could say I really don’t have any experience.”

  He smiles and says, “I think we should start at the beginning. Does your situation call for a rifle or shotgun? Or are you looking for small hand guns to carry on your person?”

  “Our situation is such that we want to be armed all the time with small concealed handguns. I know that severely limits our range but that’s ok since the bad guys following us won’t expect us to be armed.”

  “Ok then. What I would suggest to you is that you both buy a small handgun that you could easily conceal. That means you would need the bad guys to close in to about 10 feet before you pull it out and fire if they don’t stop. A gun that you hide in a pocket or in a purse will have limited accuracy, by definition. So that is about your only choice. Are you each going to be armed or just you Harry?”

  I glance out of the corner of my eye at Silvia. I can see immediately that she is disturbed at this unintended sexist question. She draws in a lung full of air, stifles the urge to snap back at him with sarcasm and simply says, “I want to be armed as well. This is the reason I am here. You should understand that the guys chasing us are ruthless and would a kill 6-year old child to get what they want. To say nothing of an adult female.”

  “Now I begin to get the seriousness of your situation. You’ll forgive me if I didn’t grasp that from Moose’s telephone conversation. Now that I understand, you both should buy identical weapons for several reasons. You may need to be able to use the other’s gun. Since it is identical to your own there will be no wasted learning time in terms of the both the operation and maintenance of your gun. In addition, you will be using the same ammunition. Make sense to you?”

  “That sounds very sensib
le to us, Al. Do you have a specific make and model in mind?”

  Am I kidding? Of course, he does.

  “Yes. I do.”

  As he is talking, he walks over to a display case filled with many different makes and models of handguns and takes out one without hesitation.

  “This is a Remington model RM380. It has a barrel length of just under 3 inches and an overall length of just over 5 inches. Its height is less than 4 inches. You can see it will be easy to hide in a pocket or a purse. It is light weight and has a trigger pull of 10 pounds. That’s enough to prevent accidental discharge but well within your average adult’s capability to fire in a smooth fashion without jerking from the kick back. It has a 6-shot magazine.”

  “I like the feel of this gun. Incidentally, I was born and brought up in a small Connecticut town near Hartford. I remember that Remington had a manufacturing plant there. Do they still make guns there?”

  “Remington is the oldest American maker of firearms, dating back to 1816. It has a new plant facility in Alabama and other facilities around the country. Corporate headquarters is in North Carolina. The principal manufacturing plant for guns is in Ilion, New York. Other than knowing this gun was made in the USA, I can’t be more specific.”

  “I notice you have several other makes of hand guns. How do they compare with Remington?”

  “They all are of good quality or they wouldn’t be here in my shop. Having said that, if it were me I’d pick a Remington over all the others be they less expensive or more expensive.”

  “We trust your judgement on that. How expensive are they?”

  “Well, they list for $436 each. When you add in taxes and ammunition you’d be up to a bit over $1,000.”

  “Arming ourselves properly is important to us as we have said but that’s a lot more than we hoped to spend. Are there any less expensive alternatives?”