The Minnesota Candidate

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The Minnesota Candidate Page 12

by Nicholas Antinozzi


  Sam’s eyes grew large and he held out his hands. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talkin’ about.”

  “Don’t do this, Sam. I understand why you took it, but you’re a convicted felon and I won’t allow you to mess up your new life. Do you want to lose Chona? Do you want to lose your freedom?”

  “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

  “My gun, Sam, I want it back.”

  “But I ain’t got any gun and I ain’t ever took any gun. Not from you and not from anyone else. You better go back home and keep lookin’.”

  “That was a gift from my dad, one of the last things he ever gave me. I never moved it from under my bed, never. Are you trying to tell me that you didn’t take it?”

  “I ain’t tryin’ to tell you nuttin’. I didn’t take it. And I would never steal from you and Tommy. For cryin’ out loud, Shari, you got to believe that.”

  “You’re a convicted felon, Sam. How am I supposed to believe you?”

  “This conversation is over. You can go ahead and believe whatever the hell you want. I didn’t take no gun and I’m goin’ back to work. You’re nuts, lady.”

  Shari raised her hand to stop Sam from walking out, but he walked past her and the look on his face told her not to try and stop him. She hadn’t expected this type of reaction. Shari had always prided herself on her ability to spot the truth, and Sam had certainly looked as if had been telling it. He had looked her straight in the eye and his gaze had never wavered. The more Shari thought about it, the worse she felt. She sat down on the bed. If Sam hadn’t taken her gun, who had?

  “Shari?” called Tom from just outside the bedroom door. “Can I come in?”

  Shari nodded and brushed a tear from her cheek. “The door is open.”

  Tom walked in and shut the door. He then walked in and stood in front of Shari and crossed his arms. “Will you please explain to me what’s going on?” I tried to talk to Sam and he wouldn’t even look at me. What the hell did you say to him?”

  “My gun is missing. Did you take it?”

  “Did I take your gun? Are you kidding me? Why the hell would I do that? You didn’t accuse Sam of stealing from you, did you?”

  “Who else would have taken it? I know it was under the bed. I just cleaned it, last week. I have kept that gun in the same place since for five years.”

  “Oh shit, well, this is just great. When did you notice it was missing?”

  “Less than an hour ago; I hopped in my car and drove straight here. What, you don’t think your mom took it, do you?”

  Tom shook his head. “No, I don’t think my mom took it, but I wouldn’t put anything past Marie. She might have been my dad’s sister, but she isn’t anything like my old man was. She’s as crooked as a snake and I wouldn’t trust her as far as I could throw her. Come on, we’re driving back home.”

  Shari covered her face with her hands. “I’m such an idiot,” she groaned. “I have to say something to Sam.”

  “We can do that we get back. I want to catch Marie before she leaves.”

  Reluctantly, Shari got up from the bed and followed Tom out of the bedroom. She could feel eyes upon her as they made their way out of the house. She saw Chona, but Chona turned away from her as if Shari were carrying the smallpox. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she regretted her decision to fly off the handle.

  They took the Mercedes and Tom drove as Shari wept. Slowly, in the silence, Shari pulled herself together. She apologized for what she had done and explained why she had done it. “I don’t care about the gun. I just didn’t want Sam getting caught with it. I wasn’t even going to tell you about it, if he gave it back to me. That would’ve been our secret. Honestly, I never thought your aunt would have taken it.”

  “Yeah, well did you check to see if anything else was missing?”

  Shari shook her head. “I saw something about martial law on television. That’s when I went to look for the gun. I was going to hide it in the kitchen.”

  “Martial law? What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Oh, it was just a couple of these so-called experts talking about the financial crisis. They were talking about what they had done to prepare for a worst case scenario. As far as I know, nobody in the government is talking about martial law.”

  “Thank God for that,” said Tom. “Look, from now on you need to communicate with me, okay? I could have told you that Sam didn’t take your gun.”

  “Yeah, and you might have warned me about your aunt. Why didn’t you say anything about her?”

  Tom pounded the steering wheel. “I know,” he growled, “I should have told you about her. I just thought my ma would have kept a better eye on her. I’m sorry, baby, this is probably my fault.”

  “I think we both can take equal blame. Will you promise to smooth things out with Sam for me? He won’t talk to me, but I want you to try and make him understand.”

  Tom nodded his head as he negotiated the traffic. For some reason, none of the stoplights were working on the west side of town. Thankfully, there were few cars on the road. Tom could see that the lines to the gas pumps had only grown since this morning, and the parking lots to the grocery stores were overflowing with cars. He wondered about this as he passed them by.

  Things had happened very quickly after Doris and Marie had stepped into the house. Marie had closed the door and then both women had become confused as a small bell began to ring. The bell rang five times, like an anxious grandfather clock chiming five. “What the hell is that?” asked Doris as they stood in the darkness.

  “How the hell should I know?” asked Marie, just before the floor fell out from beneath them. Both women screamed as they dropped like heavy stones.

  The home’s protection system had worked to perfection, nearly a hundred years after it had been conceived. The warning bell had done what it had been designed to do, but the women hadn’t known what it was or why it was ringing. Had they known, they would have had plenty of time to deactivate the mechanical system. The women landed in two feet of Lake Minnetonka beach sand, which broke their fall. And as the sound of heavy springs and chains echoed around them, the ceiling clicked back into place and they were swallowed up in complete darkness.

  “Oh my God,” moaned Doris. “Are you alright?”

  “Hell no,” groaned Marie. “I can’t breathe. Will you get your fat ass out of my face?”

  In the blackness, Doris staggered to her feet. “What the hell just happened? Where the hell are we?”

  Marie grunted and began brushing herself off. “How the hell am I supposed to know? Let me see if I can find my lighter.”

  “We’ve got to get out of here!”

  “No shit, Sherlock.”

  Had the power not have been out, alarms would have been ringing and the police would have already been on their way. Frantically, Marie dug her plastic lighter from out of her pocket. There was a flicking sound and then there was light. “Oh my God,” groaned Doris, as her eyes adjusted to the light. “What is this place?”

  “We’re in a holding cell,” grunted Marie, studying the four concrete walls and the high ceiling. “Well, this ain’t good.”

  “I knew we shouldn’t have walked in here. I tried to tell you.”

  “You did no such thing. Now shut up and let me think. There has to be a way out of here.”

  “Hurry up and find it. I have to go to the bathroom.”

  Marie felt as if her thumb had suddenly caught fire and she shrieked in pain, flipping her hand and losing her grip on the lighter. Once again, they were swallowed up in the blackness. “Oh shit,” said Marie. “I dropped that damn lighter. Help me find it.”

  “Oh, that was real smart, Marie.”

  “Shut up or I’ll punch you in the nose. I mean it, Doris.”

  “You go ahead and try it. I’ll gouge your eyes out, you bitch. I never should have listened to you.”

  “Shut up! Did you hear that?”

  “Did I hear what?”
/>   Blindly, Marie reached out and clutched Doris by the arm. “I don’t know,” she groaned. “Just listen.”

  The sound started slowly, like the chirping of crickets on a warm summer evening. But these weren’t crickets. The chirping was more of a cheeping and it was answered by the sound of skittering feet. The cheeping began to echo off of the concrete walls. “Rats!” cried Doris.

  “Help me find that damned lighter!” screamed Marie.

  They nearly dove into the sand and both women began to grope in the darkness. A full minute passed, and by this time both women were wailing in terror. They found each other in the darkness and they clung to one and other. Desperate, horrified, they separated and resumed their search. “I found it!” screamed Doris. “I found it!”

  Marie could hear the sound of Doris trying to light the lighter. To her ears, the flicking sounded muted. “Blow out the sand,” she cried. “The wheel thingy is full of sand!”

  Doris was too frightened to listen. She continued flicking and she began screaming curses at the cheap lighter. Suddenly, Marie’s hands found her own and they wrenched the lighter away from her. “You bitch!” cried Doris.

  Marie barely heard her. She held the lighter under her mouth and began to blow as hard as her lungs would allow. She blew until she was blown out and then she placed her thumb on the wheel and gave it a tentative flick. The lighter flamed to life and filled the cell with orange light. From all around them, rats, fat ones and thin ones with long waxy tails, began scurrying back into the shadows.

  And Doris and Marie began to scream like they had never screamed before.

  Chapter 13

  The Mercedes roared up the driveway and screeched to a halt. Shari had to manually open the lifeless gate. Tom was furious and he just hoped that Marie hadn’t slipped away. He slammed on the brakes and both he and Shari charged up to the house. Silently, they entered though the patio door and Tom pointed to Marie’s suitcase of a purse. Shari began rummaging through it as Tom searched the house. “Ma!” called Tom, trying to keep his voice even. “Marie!”

  Shari caught him in the hallway. “My gun wasn’t in there,” she whispered.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll find your gun,” said Tom, not bothering to lower his voice. “I know you two are here,” he called. “Come on out, we need to talk to you!”

  He was answered with nothing but silence. They searched the entire house and then they searched the grounds. Tom even walked down and checked inside the boat. His mother and Marie had seemingly disappeared.

  “They must have gone to a pawn shop,” said Shari. “That’s where they always go on television.”

  Tom held up a finger. “You don’t think that my ma was in on it, do you?”

  “I wasn’t saying that. Marie probably tricked her into going along.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure she probably did. That Marie is pretty tricky.”

  “Your mom would never steal from us.”

  “No, she wouldn’t. I know she wouldn’t.”

  “And I know it, too,” said Shari, but suddenly she wasn’t so sure of that. She stared up at her parent’s house and pointed to it. “You don’t suppose…” she said.

  Tom shook his head. “Not a chance.”

  Shari nodded in agreement. “Let’s go find a telephone book. I’ll bet Marie went to the nearest pawn shop.”

  “And I’ll bet she lied to my ma about what she wanted to pawn. She’s such a liar. I should have sent her packing as soon as I saw her.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Because, Shari, she’s my ma’s only friend.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she’s a nice woman. I don’t know what my ma sees in her. Come on, let’s find that phone book.”

  They walked back into the house and Shari found the phone book. They had no idea there were so many pawn shops. Undeterred, Tom began calling them up. By the time he had hung up on the third try, his phone began to chirp. “Oh, this is just great,” he growled.

  “What do you mean?”

  “My phone is going dead.”

  “Don’t you have one of those car chargers?”

  Tom shook his head. “I didn’t even have a car until this week.”

  “Maybe we should run out and buy one?”

  “Did you see the Walmart parking lot? Holy smokes, there were people parking half a mile away. We don’t have time for that. We have to get back down to the house. They were about to wrap things up and I want to talk to Sam.”

  “Right, you have to talk to Sam. I just pray he forgives me.”

  “Sam is a good man with a big heart. Don’t worry, honey, he’ll forgive you.”

  “I hope so. I just feel so rotten about accusing him like that.”

  They walked out of the house and climbed back into the Mercedes. Tom sped through the open gate, not bothering to close it. Shari found more bad news on the BBC, but it was delivered with a crisp British accent, which seemed to make it slightly more palatable. Things were bad all across the European Union, the economy was in shambles, but it appeared that things were about to get a whole lot worse. Islamic extremists had taken to the streets and were staging massive demonstrations. Hundreds had been killed in these clashes and thousands more were injured.

  “You don’t suppose that something like that could happen here?” asked Tom.

  Shari shook her head. “I don’t really know, but after what happened yesterday, anything is possible. Those people want the world to convert to Sharia Law and they’re not going away. They might be trying to use this economic crisis to their advantage. The extremists might decide to try the same thing here.”

  Tom nodded his head and decided he had enough on his mind already. His camel back brain was heavy with straw and he couldn’t take the risk of it snapping. He thought of Sam and tuned out the BBC anchors as they chip-chipped their way through the news. He decided to take a direct approach with Sam. He hoped Sam would understand why Shari had assumed he had taken her gun. He would be hurt, but he would get over it. He wondered where his mother and Marie had disappeared to. Maybe they had gone to Marie’s? But if they had gone there, why hadn’t Marie taken her purse? Tom thought about that and his stomach began to feel queasy. Women didn’t go anywhere without their purses, not as far as he knew, anyhow.

  They drove past a long line of cars sitting on the right shoulder. A Minneapolis police cruiser was parked blocks ahead, lights flashing. Tom could see that the cop was directing traffic at the fuel pumps of the Super America. He looked down at his own fuel gauge and he grimaced. The needle of the gas gauge was resting just above empty. As if on cue, the low fuel light popped on.

  Tom pulled down his mother’s street and was surprised to find it nearly deserted. The yellow tape was gone, as were the spectators and the big trucks and trailers. The new lawn was in and the automatic sprinklers were busy misting the fresh grass. Tom parked in front of the house and shut off the engine. “It looks like they finished ahead of schedule,” he said, as they stepped out into the humid air.

  Shari stared up at the house and she smiled. “This was a bad idea, but I’m so glad we did it. I think your mom is going to be very happy here.”

  “She had better be. She doesn’t have a choice in the matter.”

  Shari laughed at that and they walked up and down the sidewalk, admiring the view from behind the sparkling new chain link fence. Spiked into the lawn, the contractors had left their calling cards, the little signs with their names and company logos. Wishful thinking in this economy, thought Tom. Shari opened the gate and Tom stepped inside. “Will you go in and see if you can straighten things out?” asked Shari. “I think I’ll wait out here.”

  “I’ll handle it,” said Tom, feeling confident as he stepped up to the open front door. “This won’t take long,” he added.

  “I hope not.”

  Tom walked inside and was immediately amazed by the transformation. He stepped out of his tennis shoes and left them in
the foyer. From where he stood, the house looked to be a completed project. The pictures were hung and the carpet was freshly vacuumed. There were knick-knacks on the shelves and tables and the air smelled of roses. He paused in the dining room and he ran his finger across the massive oak table. Everything was perfect. He only wished his father was there to share in his joy.

  In his stocking feet, Tom stepped into the kitchen and he nodded his head in approval. His mother’s kitchen was larger and more elegant than his own. Stainless steel appliances shone under marble countertops and glimmering new cookware hung above the double sink. Tom popped open the pantry door and found the shelves had been stocked to the brim with canned foods and kitchen supplies.

  Tom heard voices overhead and he walked upstairs to investigate. Up in the hallway, Tom poked his head into the guest bedrooms, each, a distinct work of art. The beds were made and feeling mentally exhausted, they seemed to call out to him. Tom heard the voices again and they were coming from behind the closed door of the master bedroom. He thought of Sam and Chona and he decided that he had better knock. Chona’s voice answered from behind the door. “Come in,” she said.

  Tom opened the door and found Chona standing on the far side of his mother’s bed. Another woman stood by the window, a paintbrush in one hand and a small can in the other. She looked from Tom to the wall. “I think that’s it,” she said to Chona, “unless there was something else?”

  Chona shook her head. “Thanks Kelsey,” she said. “As always, you did an awesome job.”

  Kelsey thanked Chona and then she turned to leave, giving Tom a frosty smile as she walked past him. Chona walked into the master bath and stood there with the door open. Tom thought Sam was in there, so he walked in behind her. “Where’s Sam?” he asked, finding that they were alone in the bathroom.

  “Sam is back at my house. We’re leaving for Rochester as soon as I finish here.”

 

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