by Murray Segal
“Don’t forget that we have a lecture at UMPI tomorrow.”
“I did forget. Remind me what it’s about”.
“The importance of the news media in maintaining a free society. We will try to span the full range of the media.”
“Nothing that hasn’t been done before.”
“I know but don’t forget that we will be talking to a bunch of youngsters who spend far more time at athletic events than they do worrying about their freedom. We all tend to take our freedom for granted.”
“Until we wake up one morning and find that we have delegated the definition of that freedom to a nameless bureaucracy internally. Or we find out the hard way that we haven’t been paying enough attention to a foreign dictatorship. Remind me what time this great event takes place.”
“Sarcasm is my job. Remember?”
“Sorry for the intrusion into your territory.”
“I am going to spend the morning here in the apartment working up a detailed outline for the lecture. And you?”
“I’m going over to the paper and gather some routine crime stuff for the next issue. I’m also going to track down my favorite balloon pilot and see what I can find out about the Nazis in his home country and his relationship to them, if any.”
“You don’t really believe there is any connection. Do you?”
“No, I don’t. This balloon fest was scheduled last year, long before our ordeal began. Nevertheless, I’d like to know where his sympathies lie. It is not beyond the realm of imagination that the Nazis could have enlisted him into their hunt for us.”
“I’m sure it’s just more paranoia on your part but it’s certainly worth and hour or so to talk to him. PROVIDED YOU DON’T TALK IN HIS BALLOON!”
“No way. I’ve had my fair share of balloon riding.”
When I drive over to Marcos’ motel, I find him relaxing at the pool.
“Hi, Marcos. I don’t want to bother you but I do have a few more questions for you. They have nothing to do with balloons but just something I’m interested in finding out about your home country.”
“No bother at all. I don’t spend much time there because I am on the road all the time. I’d be glad to help if I can.”
“I’d like to develop a feel for the kind of society that Brazil is. My interest stems from a desire to visit there sometime in the future (a lie). We all know that your country was home to a large contingent of Nazis who escaped Germany after World War II. Are they still there? Are they an important element in the society?”
“I would tell you that I know that there is a core of Germanic people who are undoubtedly descendants of those original bad guys. I believe they are not very active in public affairs and pretty much hang out with their own kind. They are there. There is not much we do about that. They command a significant slice of wealth but as far as I know are not involved in criminal activity in any major way. Said another way, the people tend to tolerate them. Are there any warm and fuzzy relationships with the locals? Probably, but again they are not obvious to the average guy in the street.”
“Marcos, it is kind of you to be so frank about that subject. I want to thank you. I suspect that I will not be visiting anytime soon. If I do get there I will try and find you and take you out to dinner.”
“That would be great. Here’s my business card. But I would be the host and dinner would be on me.”
I leave Marcos, satisfied that he has no knowledge about the Nazis who are chasing us. Back at the newspaper I prepare some routine materials on the current crime scene.
There is the usual Report from the State Police Troop F. At the Aroostook County-Superior Court, in Caribou, we see some minor probation violations, operating after, a minor assault, trafficking in drugs and a life in prison sentence for a man convicted of murder. I hope this is not so routine. The fire marshal in Masardis has charged two men with arson. I make a note to find out where the heck Masardis is located. There is a report of a three vehicle crash on Parson Street which sends 3 people to the hospital. A report of a woman being extradited from Oklahoma.
The Presque Isle Criminal Docket for the month includes the following items:
Burglary
Refusing to submit
Illegal possession
Criminal mischief
Speeding and numerous DUI cases
Numerous unauthorized taking cases
Disorderly conduct
Terrorizing
Trespassing
Domestic violation
Littering
Illegal possession of a fish
Allowing a dog to be at large
It’s clear to me that I need to do some research on the nature of many of these crimes. Everything from allowing a dog to be at large to murder. I will try to keep this edition away from Silvia. It would make her even more nervous about staying here.
Back at the apartment Silvia is busily making an outline and notes for this afternoon’s lecture.
“How did it go with you?”
“Number one, our friend Marcos has absolutely nothing to do with the bad guys in Buenos Aires. He even invited us to dinner should we visit down there. Heaven forbid.”
“That’s one less thing to worry about. And did you prepare some crime stuff for the next issue?”
“Yeah, sure, a long list from several different sources.”
“Anything interesting?”
Since there is no fooling her I decide to come clean.
“There was a wide variety of crimes ranging from allowing a dog to be at large to murder. Lots of driving under, speeding, burglary and others. Some of them I don’t even have a clue what is involved. Oh yeah, there was a three-vehicle collision right here on Parson Street. Three people to the hospital but the good news is with no life-threatening injuries.”
“Oh. If there is no more good news, I think I will crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head. Wake me up when it’s safe to go home.”
“Your attempt at levity falls flat. I know you’d tell if you saw our friends the Smiths around, but have you?”
“No certainly have not. Don’t worry I would scream bloody murder if I did. So, go over this afternoon’s lecture with me.”
We spend about 30 minutes going over her outline for the lecture. It consists primarily of a brief introductory lecture on the importance of a free press and then questions from the students and answers from us. That assumes the kids are interested enough to ask some questions. If they don’t we will have some of our own ready.
We have a convenient lunch of frozen Pad Thai, which tends to be Silvia’s fall back choice when time is short or she’s just plain lazy. It’s also happens to be the only way she can get tofu into me.
Silvia’s class has about 50 students in it. I am surprised that they seem to be paying rapt attention to her. I don’t know if that’s because she is smart and beautiful or maybe she has a great delivery. They even ask relevant questions. Lord. After it’s over, some of them gather around Silvia and pepper her with more questions. I am totally ignored so I slink back outside and wait for her at the car. We find ourselves without much of anything to do that evening. Silvia cooks a real meal (no tofu). The steak and home fries are delicious. She even eats some herself. Wonders never cease.
“Tomorrow morning, I think we should drive up to Big Al’s and practice some more on his range. And since we are almost halfway there I want to drive on to New Sweden and get acquainted Moose’s Uncle Steven Gustafson.”
“Why do you want to do that? Is there something you know and are keeping from me?”
“No. It’s just that I keep feeling the bad guys getting close to us and I want to be prepared for a quick getaway. Call it a premonition or just more paranoia. A feeling I can’t shake”.
“If you want to invest the time to do that tomorrow, I’m with you.”
“If you have things to do, I can go by myself.”
“Not on your life.”
“Then since that is tomorrow’s pl
an, lets watch a movie and get some sleep. Oh, and by the way you did a great job with the kids today. They ready liked your lecture and Q & A afterwards.Very impressive.”
“After all, I had expert help. Did I not?”
“Not. They didn’t even know I was in the room.”
“Sure, they did. But I suspect they know who will be grading their exams.”
“I never thought of that.”
“But, I was terrific. Wasn’t I?”
“Truly you were and still are. Therefore, you get to choose a chick flick for tonight’s feature presentation as a reward.”
“Let’s see what Meryl Streep movies Netflix is offering. Why don’t we watch Kramer Vs Kramer with Dustin Hoffman? Haven’t seen that in a while. And it’s not really a chick flick so you can stay awake and watch.”
“Ok. I’m with you.”
The movie is a good one, but still it’s hard for me to watch a movie where it is still in my mind from the last time I saw it. I try to appear attentive and I think I fooled Silvia into thinking that I really enjoyed it. This was another one of those nights when we both were only interested in a quick hug and kiss before we fell asleep. We ought to be well rested for tomorrow, that will be a very long one. After breakfast, we drive around PI long enough to make sure we are not followed and then head straight north toward Caribou.
“I think we should start out with some shooting practice first and then work our way up to New Sweden to meet with Moose’s Uncle Steven, as we talked about last night. You know it’s still not too late to change your mind. We can still turn around and head back to PI.”
“And leave me here alone. Are you crazy? Besides I need practice shooting much more then you do. Drive!”
We shoot (pardon the pun) up Route 1 to Caribou and arrive at Big Al’s a few minutes before he opens. He seems genuinely glad to see us when he finally opens the door.
“Good morning you two. You here to buy a machine gun or did you just stop by to say hello?”
“Good morning to you too. Correct, we were just in the neighborhood and stopped to say hello.”
“However, since we are here, we’ll do some shooting on the range.”
“Great. Same deal as before. Use it all day if you want and pay only for the ammo that you use. After about 50 rounds I’ll be out to see the results.”
“Deal.”
After a few rounds I can see the improvement in the accuracy for both of us. After the full fifty rounds, I tap on the door and Big Al comes out and examines the targets.
“Excellent. Both of you are getting very good. I feel sorry for the bad guys if they ever catch up to you.”
“I know that shooting at a stationery paper target is a lot easier than trying to plug a live human being moving at you. Still, I do feel more confident than I did before we started. Practice may not make perfect in this case but I have made progress and Silvia has made even more.”
We fire a few more rounds with Big Al watching.
“Enough is enough. Your arms must be getting tired because I can see it in the results. So, get out of here. I hope to see you again. And if there is anything at all that I can do to help, just holler.”
“You’re right. My arm is getting tired. See you again and thank you for the offer of help. You never know.”
As we head up Route 161 toward New Sweden, Silvia calls Gustafson on her cell while I listen to one side of the conversation.
“Is this Steve Gustafson?...Sorry to bother you so early in the morning. My name is Silvia Stein. My husband Harry and I would like to chat with you.”
“Yes. I know that Moose has talked with you. We are in Caribou and since we are not far away, we thought we’d like to come up now. Good. Can you give us directions?...OK, let me see if I have gotten it right. We take Route 161 up to New Sweden and get off on Westmanland Road and go left. Westmanland swings around and goes north. We continue for about mile and a half and look for a dirt road that takes off to the right. The road is just to the south of Fogelin Hill. Your cabin is on Fogelin Pond. Ok. We will tap on the horn when we get there. We are driving a rust colored Chevrolet. See you soon.”
“Those directions are much like driving through a corn maze.”
“With an expert navigator like you, how could we go wrong?”
“You can sum up everything I know about navigation in one word. Garmin”
Another attempt at levity that has fallen flat.
“If you get us lost up there even the Saint Bernards won’t find us.”
We do get there and find the driveway to Gustafson’s home which is right on the pond. It’s a log cabin affair at the very end of the driveway. We tap the horn as instructed. The door opens and out onto the porch strides Moose’s Uncle with a shot gun in his left hand aimed at the ground. He’s a grizzled looking guy, tall and thin with a beard and bright shiny eyes underneath bushy eyebrows. I step out of the car, hold out my hand and am to greet him when two beefy dogs come tearing around both sides of the house. They screech to a stop on a sharp command for Gustafson.
“Don’t pay any attention to them. They won’t bother you. Just hold out your hand so they can get used to you and I’ll let them roam.”
I do. They do. The two of them of sniff around me for a few seconds and the promptly lose interest in me.
“Now the lady.”
We go through the same routine with Silvia.
“Well don’t just stand there. Come on up and make yourselves ta home.”
We climb up the few steps to the porch level and he holds out his hand which I grab and am surprised with a very strong grip. Hard to tell how old this guy is, maybe as old as me, but it’s clear that he has taken good care of himself. In my mind, I wonder how one gets to a hospital way out here or even just a Doctor’s office without kicking the bucket first.
“Come on in. I have some coffee on the stove. Moose has told me all about you. I understand that some bad guys are after you. I hope that you have the means to protect yourself. You can’t depend on the police in a situation like you’re in.”
“We’ve just come from Big Al’s shooting range where we’ve been learning how to use the handguns he sold us. I thought it best to leave them in the car.”
“If you hadn’t, I might not have been able to keep the dogs off you. They are very protective of me.”
I try to hide the shudder of my body.
“That offer of coffee sounds good to me,” as I quickly change the subject.
The inside of the cabin is clean and comfortable looking. Sparsely furnished but the floors are covered with rugs that are probably from some animal or another. The place is pretty much one big room with a kitchen in one corner and a bed in the other corner at the rear. The area on the right hosts a large stone fireplace. This looks like a living/dining area. The furniture looks handmade. I expect by Gustafson.
“This is a great place. How long ago did you buy it?” I ask like a fool.
“I didn’t. Built it by myself along with everything in it. Twenty-six years, ago.”
“Does the fireplace heat the whole place? I noticed a large stack of firewood outside?”
“Nope. I have a propane heater for when it gets really, really, cold, which it does for nearly three months of the year. Can’t get delivery way out here so I haul it here in small tanks. They are out back, along with my pickup truck under a small shelter up against the back wall. I’ll show you later.” He is proud of his handiwork.
“This coffee is great,” Silvia speaks up. “I’m impressed with your kitchen. All those copper pots and pans look like they came out of some fancy kitchen in New York.”
“Those were all my mother’s. Brought them here when I first came.”
“And I’m impressed with your immense library,” I add.
“Some of them belonged to my parents but most of them I have bought myself over the years. Many of them I haven’t read yet. I don’t have television, nor do I want it, so I read a lot. In the summer, I tend to the
wood pile, hunt some and fish some. In the winter, I cross country ski for fun. Hunt and ice fish for food.”
“It sounds like a fairly lonely existence,” pipes up Silvia. In other words, she is asking him about girlfriends.
“Not really. I have friends in town and neighbors out here. Occasionally someone will stop by for coffee or a game of chess. It’s not as lonely as it may seem to you.”
“As pleasant as this short visit has been, I have what could be an unpleasant question to ask you.”
“I’m guessing that I already know what that is. You want to know if you can hide out here if the bad guys get too close. The answer to that is yes.”
“It might not be as simple as that. These guys have help everywhere around the globe and assets we don’t even begin to know about.”
“Bring them on. It could be fun. I can’t guarantee that I can protect you by myself but my friends around here will help and at least we’ll give them a good fight. Don’t forget we know this land and they don’t.”
“If you are positive about this, I will accept your offer. But I want you to think about this carefully for a few days. We are going back to PI. I’ll call you when I know more about our situation. Many thanks for listening to us.”
“My pleasure. Have a good drive back to PI.”
Silvia drives on the way back to Caribou and then to PI.
“What’s your take on Gustafson?” She asks.
“I think he would be a formidable opponent, particularly on his home ground. While we don’t know his neighbors and friends I suspect that they would be similar types of characters: strong, self-sufficient, and people not to be trifled with. If I had to put my life in someone’s hand, I don’t think I could do much better than Gustafson and his friends.”
“I agree with that. One thing we didn’t discuss with him is another way out of his property. I have already checked out maps of this area, so I know there are other roads that will get us to the Canadian border and on to the St Lawrence Seaway if we choose to go in that direction.”
“We’ve talked about that before and that’s a good alternative as far as I am concerned. Easy to sneak across the border without any paper trail. And there are so many ways to go from there. North into Montreal, Quebec or some smaller town. Across to the great lakes and middle America. I think the Nazis would have a tough time finding us up there. The key of course would be to make sure we don’t get trapped in New Sweden.”