by Chris Ryan
“Joe, this is not going to end quickly,” I said. “I can see this going on for a few days.”
Joe agreed; Leo was not going to give up easily. “Dutch, you don’t know Leo like I do. I have been buddies with him for more than forty-five years. Actually, closer to fifty. Leo will end this on his terms, no one else’s. As you know, he hates cops. He always did. And after that wrongful detention in 1998, he hates them even more.”
My back was killing me. Joe looked like someone dragged over the coals. He had been on the go for thirty-six hours with roughly one hour of sleep.
Sharon called me on Brenda’s cell. “Come down and jump in with me and Brenda,” she said.
I went down and got in Sharon’s car, which was five or six cars away from Joe’s SUV. “What’s up?” I asked.
She started a rant that lasted ten minutes. She was pissed off with the RCMP. Two days and they still wouldn’t let her get Peanut. Her dog had water enough for roughly two days. “If I don’t get him out by tomorrow evening, the situation will start getting serious for Peanut. If they had told me that this was going to last this long, I would have grabbed him on the way out.”
I said, “Sharon, who ever thought that it would be going on this long? No one knew that Leo was this determined.”
“Dutch, everyone in the harbour knows how headstrong and determined Leo is. Didn’t the cops learn anything from their dealings with him in 1998?”
“Sharon, Leo could be there for weeks. Knowing Leo, he was prepared for this. He always said that they would be back to crucify him for making them look like idiots in 1998.”
“I can’t argue with you. We know how smart he is. And I wouldn’t be shocked if he had a stockpile of grub, coffee, and smokes in case something like this happened someday. They’re certainly not dealing with the average person.”
“Did you go home for supper?”
“No, Judy brought supper up to us. Hot turkey sandwiches.”
“Jesus. You had better grub than me and Joe. We had sandwiches, too. Compliments of Tina, delivered by Stacie. She brought us lunch as well.”
“Stacie is driving?”
“Sharon, Stacie has been driving for two and a half years.”
“Holy shit, she grew up in a bloody hurry.”
“Sure, Hollie just turned thirteen.”
“Where does the time go? I remember Joey with them down on the public wharf one day. Hollie was around two, and Stacie may have been nine or ten. Man, time flies.”
“Sure, Sharon, Joey has been dead for eight and a half years.” Joey was the girls’ father, my best friend.
“He’s been dead that long?”
“Yes, he died on July 25, 2002. Anyway, Sharon, tomorrow morning make a roar to me and I’ll jump in with you and go have a chat with the cops. That’s ridiculous, that dog alone and most likely out of food and water. Sure, if you did that yourself to a dog the cops would charge you with cruelty to animals.
“You staying much longer?”
“I may as well, no house to go home to. I’m bunking down at Judy’s.”
“Drink much beer here today?”
“No, had a half after lunch. Brenda just picked up another. Can’t drink too much . . . too many cops in the harbour. Want one?”
“No thanks. I’m going to go back and have a gander with my binoculars. Don’t want to miss anything.”
“Relax, b’y, have a beer. Nothing’s going to happen over there tonight.”
“Did you see the humongous truck that backed in behind the town hall?”
“Yes, we saw it and were wondering what it was.”
“It looks to me to be some type of communications vehicle. I guess they’ve come to the realization that Leo is not going to surrender in a hurry.”
“Leo will wait them out until Christmas. If you had to hand-pick someone in the harbour to be in a situation like this, Leo would be the fellow to pick. He is as determined as a bull.”
“I’m expecting to see this on the national news tonight.”
“No, Dutch. This a little local story. This is not big enough to make the national news.”
“You wait and see, Sharon. I’ll bet you a dozen beer this will be on the national news tonight. If not tonight, definitely tomorrow night. If this is still going on this time tomorrow night, it will be three nights. That in itself is a story. Man with a weapon, barricaded in a house for three days, surrounded by no less than thirty-five to forty cops. With more and more being added every day.”
“Dutch, there are not that many cops around his house.”
“No, Brenda, there may not actually be that many surrounding the house. But definitely there are at least a dozen sharpshooters around the house. Joe and I counted them today. There were two in each of the two vehicles in your lane, Sharon. There were no less than four in the grass behind the house.”
“Dutch, where did you count four cops in the grass? You’re off your head.”
“Sharon, you’ve never had a chance to look through my binoculars or scope, have you? If one of those cops had their fly down on your lane, I would see it with my scope.”
“Now, Dutch, you’re exaggerating. What do you think you have there, the Hubble Space Telescope?”
“I may not have the Hubble, but the spotting scope I have for birdwatching is awesome. If you and Brenda were up walking on the ridge, I could identify you in seconds.”
“When did you start being a birdwatcher?”
“I started about ten years ago. I was always into it on a small scale. But I got serious on a bigger scale when I had an eastern towhee at my feeder in the fall of 2001 and the winter of 2002. All the top birdwatchers from town came up to see it. One of them, Jared Clarke, a MUN student at the time, asked me to go down to Cape Race that spring with him. So it kind of grew on me.”
“Like, where do you go to look at birds?”
“We go down to the sod farm in St. Shotts and work our way back from there. We try and make sure we get out to Cape Race. We get a lot of rare birds out there. Remember, it’s twenty-two kilometres out into the Atlantic Ocean. Besides, I love to go out there. There’s so much history along that coast. Have any of you read Robert Parsons’s book on all the shipwrecks out on that coastline in the past 100 years or so? Anyway, we check all the known ponds and headlands in most communities. In winter we know who has the best feeders that attract birds in each community.”
“Dutch, I have to laugh. Grown men going around looking at little birds.”
“Well, Sharon, it’s better than drinking beer every Saturday. Actually, it’s one of the fastest-growing hobbies in North America. There’s a movie being made as we speak.”
“About birdwatching?”
“Yes. The name of it is The Big Year, and it stars Steve Martin and Owen Wilson. Two excellent actors. Funny actors. Anyway, girls, I’m going back to Joe before he gets lonely. Sharon, just have a gander in your rear-view mirror. Who is that in with Joe?”
“Looks like Jeff O’Driscoll. I certainly miss his mother, Bernice, in the post office. She was great for having a chat.”
“Who are the two new women working at the post office these days?”
“I don’t know. I guess they’re new in town. There are so many people moving in here these days, with all the new subdivisions being built. I hardly know anyone anymore. I see groups of kids coming out of Foodland and don’t know one of them.”
“Anyway, I’m gone.”
“Dutch, hang on for a second. You’re always in a fucking hurry. You’re more hyper than Joe.”
“So how long are the two of you staying?”
“I don’t know. I’m thinking midnight. Why? I hate to leave, afraid I’ll miss something.”
“Well, if anything happens between now and midnight I’ll give
you a shout at Judy’s. I’ll call your cell, Brenda. Give me your number and I’ll put it into my BlackBerry. Myself and Joe are going to start rotating our time here, starting tomorrow morning. It doesn’t make any sense for the two of us to be here constantly. We figured if we rotated our time we would be covering this close to twenty-four hours a day. When I’m sleeping and resting, Joe will stay. While Joe is asleep, I’ll monitor the situation.”
“Good idea, Dutch. You’re like VOCM—on-the-spot news. How long do you think this will last?”
“Girls, I have no idea. But you know as well as I do that they picked the last fellow in the harbour to mess with. Leo will wait them out until the cows come home.”
“But Dutch, how long can he go? The window in the living room, the room that they threw the phone into, that’s shattered. It’s got to be getting pretty fucking cold in there. Someone said that they’re going to cut the power in the morning.”
“That should go over real well with Leo, Sharon. That will only piss him off more. They should try being nice to him. If they use those tactics, they will only harden his resolve. Don’t the cops know you get more flies with honey than with vinegar? I wouldn’t want to be the linesman that has to get on the pole in front of the house. I would be a tad bit nervous.”
“No, no, Dutch. Apparently they can do it with the transformer unit by the church.”
“That’s what that little beige building is. I always wondered what it was. Are you sure? I always thought that you had to get on the pole closest to the house in question to cut the power. Each house is isolated. That’s what you had to do years ago.”
“B’y, I don’t know. But someone said up to Paddy’s this afternoon that was the plan, come Monday morning.”
“Sharon, you’re probably right. They got to start using some tactics. They can’t leave him there too long. Sure, there are six businesses closed down because of this.”
“Six—you sure?”
“Well, Foodland is closed. Kennedy’s drugstore, the Sapphire Pub, A Cut Above. And the post office apparently won’t open in the morning. Rumour has it you will have to go to Witless Bay to get your mail. Okay, that’s five.”
“Dutch, I can honestly say I never knew that.”
“Well, anyway, I guess community gatherings like this are good for something. Catching up on all the local gossip. Anyway, I’m twenty minutes trying to get out of here. Sleep close to your phones, girls. Good night. See you later.”
“Later, Dutch.”
I went back to where Joe and I were parked.
“Hey, Joe. Jeff, I thought that was you. Where were you all day, Jeff? Figured you would be up here.”
“No, Mother wanted a run to town. She had to dart to Walmart and a few places. She doesn’t like to drive in the winter.”
“Jeff, sure, there isn’t a flake of snow on the ground.”
“No, but she’s nervous that it will snow while she’s shopping, so I go just to be safe. So, Dutch, fill me in on what happened today with Leo.”
“Not a thing. No more excitement than yesterday. The only change from yesterday is there are a hell of a lot more cops and cop cars in the harbour. Joe, did you tell Jeff about you getting Leo to flash the lights?”
“Yes, told him the whole story.”
“Well, Jeff, that’s a good sign. At least we know he’s still okay.”
“Okay, but what kind of shape is he in? With the window beat out of the front of the house, it’s got to be freezing in there. And we all know he smokes like a tilt and he lives for his Tim Hortons coffee.”
“Jeff, don’t worry, Leo always knew this day would come. He told me more than a dozen times that he always thought the cops were following him for making them look like idiots in 1998. I’d say Leo has enough smokes and coffee to keep himself going for months. Probably more coffee in that house than Tim Hortons sent to Afghanistan for the troops. And if the rumour is true . . . you must have heard the rumour about cutting his power come Monday morning?”
“Sure, I know that will get him out.”
“Jeff, don’t kid yourself. I guarantee you Leo has a Coleman stove in that house. I’d also bet that he has propane heaters. Leo will end this on his time and terms. It may take a few days or even a week, but when he gives them his demands I’d like to see the list. Longer than your average Santa Claus letter. That might be the start to rectifying this situation.
“Jeff, what a crowd went through this pit today. Well, last night we thought maybe thirty to forty cars went through here. Today, you could double that.”
“You serious, Dutch?”
“Jeff, here this afternoon the cars were lined up bumper to bumper from the pit to the Track Road in as far as Alfie Power’s on both sides. I went in as far as Marie Williams’s this morning trying to find a better spot for a lookout. I parked on Keith and Shannon O’Driscoll’s land. My favourite niece’s land. You could see Leo’s house from in there, but the view wasn’t as good as here. The elevation we have makes the difference. That’s why I can’t figure out why so many people are hanging around Uncle Tom’s. There’s no elevation down there. They can’t see the town hall like we can see it. They might see a little of Foodland, the old Tin Can, but their view of the town hall is blocked by the old school. So not only is this a better spot for a look at the house, but you see more stuff on the move. Every time a cop car moves, we see it, which gives us an advantage. Helps us to predict their next move.
“Someone said they ran into Angus O’Brien this morning while they were in at the end of the Track, and he told them that his sister, Marcella Tobin, and her family were sent out of their house, too. He said Marcella was getting ready to host a sixtieth birthday party for her husband, Kevin, Saturday evening when the cops showed up at the door and gave them five minutes to get out. He said she had food everywhere in the kitchen for the party. She had to go and leave it where it sat. She suspects it will be all spoiled by the time they get back in their house. Their daughter had to go back later in the evening with SWAT team members to retrieve their cats.”
“What a waste. The RCMP should have to pay for that.”
“Yes, and a lot of other stuff as well.”
“I also heard that Sandra Cahill and her daughter, Meghan, and her new baby, Austin, were out of their house as well. Kevin Cahill is out on the Hibernia rig doing his hitch; he left to fly out on Friday. He was supposed to go Thursday but was grounded due to fog. It seems that the cops are using the houses to keep an eye on Leo. There is talk, he said, that they may be putting sharpshooters in both of the houses come daylight Monday morning.”
“Dutch, that’s wild. That’s the first I heard about anyone being ordered out of their homes, other than Sharon O’Driscoll.”
“I also heard that Billy Oates and his wife, Barb, were out as well, and Tom O’Driscoll and his family. And that Martin Tobin and his family are out of his grandfather’s house.”
“Well, you would expect Martin and his family to be out. That’s the closest house to Crockwell’s.”
“And there is talk that Junior O’Driscoll will be out Monday morning. Jeff, you should know that, Junior being your uncle.”
“I haven’t spoken with him in the last week or so, too busy with schoolwork. Actually, I haven’t spoke with him since this all started.”
“Isn’t this wild, that half of that side of the harbour is inconvenienced? Why? Sure, Leo isn’t about to hurt anyone. Never has. Never will. Jeff, what do you think about all this?”
“Well, Dutch, I’m like everyone else. Don’t have all the details on how and what this started over. Heard some rumours. But you know what rumours are like in Bay Bulls. One fellow hears a story, adds a little, the next fellow hears it and adds a little. By the time it gets around the harbour it’s so blown out of proportion that it has the makings of a movie many hours long.
A story that would top one of your Uncle Tom’s lies.”
“I used to have great chats with him at the arena when he played recreational hockey. He was a fine hockey player. Pretty cagey with the puck. And tough as nails. If you drop your gloves with him, you better have packed a lunch, because he would fight until the cows came home. Don’t think I ever saw him lose a fight. I watched him play hockey for fifteen years or so. First at Brother O’Hehir Arena in St. John’s and then up at Southern Shore Arena. I truly miss the hockey that was on the Shore back in the 1970s and 1980s.”
“Bay Bulls was always king on the Southern Shore when it came to hockey and fighting.”
“I agree, Jeff. When you saw fellows like Brian Mulcahy—Luke—Jerry Williams—Scanner—and Irvin Crane don the green and white, you knew you were going to get your admission’s worth. The good old days.
“It’s sad to see Leo in this situation. You couldn’t find a finer fellow, at least not in this town. He would do anything for anyone. And the first to lend a hand at anything physical.
“Jeff, I prayed for him last night. And you know I’m not big on prayers. But if my prayers can get him out of that house and the situation he’s in safely, I’ll pray the rest of the winter. Actually, I’d almost go to Mass every Sunday. Please God this will end without anyone getting hurt, Leo or the police.
“The longer this goes on, the more nervous I’m getting. Who knows what the outcome will be? Nobody really knows. I’m no big fan of cops, but they have a job to do. As I get older I appreciate them more and respect the work they do. The world would be a sad place without them. And they have families to go home to as well as us. I’d say there are police hoping and praying this ends peacefully.”