by Chris Ryan
“I watched the NTV news from last night, Joe.”
“Anything on it?”
“No, not really. Virtually identical to CBC’s report from last night.
“And I had to wait for a delivery. Another Lloyd Pretty original, Winterland. I already own Fort Amherst and Early Snow and six of his prints. I would have loved to have owned Last Run, but he sold it before I started collecting.”
“Dutch, my favourite Newfoundland artist is Ed Roche.”
“I noticed, Joe. All the Ed Roche prints hanging in the funeral home. Have you seen any of Peg Snow’s art? I love it. Reminds me of Maud Lewis’s work. You know Maud Lewis, don’t you? From Nova Scotia. Her works are very whimsical and folksy. She was selling them for two and three dollars in the late ’40s. A couple of hers have fetched $16,000, and one went for over $22,000 in 2009. I haven’t bought any of Peg’s work yet.”
“I haven’t seen any of Peg’s work in years. But I knew thirty years ago she was good with a paintbrush.”
“Her daughter Jennifer is very gifted as well with the brush. Completely different style than her mother but unique in its own right. I’m going to start collecting both of their work eventually.
“Joe, a pity Rose Williams’s house wasn’t saved.”
“There was talk about twenty or twenty-five years ago that the town council was interested in saving it, rebuilding it back to specifications, and using it as a tourist attraction.”
“Too bad they didn’t. I’d say that was the oldest house in the harbour.”
“I don’t know about the oldest, but certainly one of them.”
“They always said the house Padwill O’Dea lives in is the oldest.”
“I heard that a dozen times, too, when I was growing up. You wouldn’t say it now. It looks like a house built thirty or forty years ago.”
“Anyway, I brought the camera with me.”
“For what?”
“Duh . . . to get some pictures, Sharon.”
“You’ll need one of those zoom lenses to get anywhere close to Leo’s.”
“I have one. It’s only 300mm but it will get a decent picture.”
“This is going to be a long afternoon. I’m starting to get sick of this.”
“Yes, the days are boring but the nights are interesting. It seems like they’re trying to keep Leo awake all night, every night. Catnaps to some people are as good as a night’s sleep. I wonder what they have up their sleeves for tonight? I guess they’ll try and pound the shit out of the back door again. You think Leo doesn’t have that door reinforced with two-by-fours? If I was a betting man I would say definitely. Probably four-by-fours. That robot, I’d say, is a couple of hundred pounds or more. Why do you think they’re loading and unloading it onto the truck using ramps? I’d say the thing is a small ton in weight. And that ramming a door, you would think and expect the door to fall to pieces, to pop off the hinges. Joe, have a gander with the scope.”
“Why?”
“The two basement windows on the front of the house are beat out.”
“What?”
“And the one on the side, by the front door on the side. The door they don’t use. That is beat out, too.”
“Dutch, this the first time you noticed them beat out?”
“I never noticed them this morning, if they were beat out.”
“Guaranteed they beat them out last night when I left. So how many fucking times did they send in the robot?”
“Hang on, hang on, Joe. The tires on Leo’s Jeep are flattened. They weren’t like that yesterday, up to the time we left. So the cowboys did a lot of damage after we left last night. Well, when Leo sees the tires flattened on his Jeep he will be livid. He loves that old Jeep. Again, more tactics to piss him off. Keep it up, boys, your strategy is really working. A wonder they don’t hook a tow truck to it and try and move it out of the yard. That would go over well with Leo. I guess it’s too dangerous to try and move it. I wonder what their strategy is in flattening the tires? They hardly expect Leo to make a run for it.”
“Dutch, give me the scope again. I never noticed the windows or the tires.”
“That’s what birdwatching does to you. Makes you look for the finest and most detailed aspects of anything and everything you look at. Well, we counted seven in total. That’s how many times we counted the robot going in and out last night. And those windows weren’t touched. If they were, I would have noticed them with this scope.”
“Dutch, there could be a chance that you missed them gone.”
“Sharon, you don’t know me. I’m meticulous when scoping anything. As I said, it’s the little details that make one a good birder. So, sometime during the night they beat them out. So fucking much for Leo escaping to the confines of the basement.
“Tell me they didn’t crucify him last night. I’m starting to feel for the poor bastard. What is it like in there? I guess we’ll never understand the true effects of what it’s like to be in such a situation. The only way we’ll ever know what it’s like in there is if Leo tells his story. I’d say he’ll write a book about this. I said that before and I’m expecting it to happen.
“I wonder if Ann Marie saw them beat them out? Brenda, give her a call and ask her.”
“I will in a minute, when I gets back in. I’m jumping in Sharon’s car for a smoke.”
Brenda came back a few minutes later.
“How was the smoke, harbour dog?”
“Good one to call me a harbour dog. You’re half a harbour dog, too, Dutch.”
“I know. I never said I wasn’t.”
“Dutch, what’s your connection to Petty Harbour?”
“Sharon, my mother, Mary, was a Madden from Petty Harbour. Tommy Madden’s daughter.”
“Never knew that.”
“A small world.”
“Smaller than we know.”
“And Dutch, you’re right about them smokes, I got to give them fucking things up. I agree, they’re going to put me in the grave earlier than it’s time to go.”
“And we don’t want Joe making any money prematurely, Brenda.”
“Dutch, never thought of that. Another good reason to quit. But Dutch, while we’re talking about smokes, you’re no virgin when it comes to smoking. I remember going into your convenience store more than once and have you blowing cigar smoke in my face.”
“I can’t argue with you on that, Brenda. I love my Cohiba cigars. The problem is I can’t just have one. If I smoke one it will lead to many more before I put them down. And Stacie and Hollie go nuts when I smoke cigars. Hollie calls them cancer sticks. But a good quality Cohiba cigar is one of the luxuries in life. To me, better than a fine wine.
“Anyway, I was talking to Ann Marie. She said she went to bed around two, and while reading in bed she could still hear the robot calling out to Leo. She said she got up to go to the washroom around four and was nearly back to sleep when she heard this sound of glass breaking. She never thought much of it. She said it sounded like it was farther away than the noise of the banging on the back of the house. Well, those windows are on this side of the house. To our right. And on our side of the porch, which is on the complete opposite side of Ann Marie’s house. I’d say it was more like an echo bouncing off the two garages, what Ann Marie heard.
“So they spent the whole fucking night crucifying the poor bastard. So the bit of shelter that he may have had in the basement is now gone.”
“Well, he could always go upstairs. The windows upstairs are not touched.”
“You’re right, Joe. Never thought of that. He has three levels. And the windows are beat out of two. So I would expect him to go to the obvious floor, the one that has no damage to any windows, which is the top floor. And if he goes to the top floor he can keep an eye on the robot every time the truck
comes up St. John’s Road.”
“You’re right, Dutch. But Dutch, I bet he is running up and down the stairs to keep an eye out for the robot. And to keep an eye on the cops in the games arcade. As soon as he sees the robot pass the arcade he can boot it down the stairs, to see where it goes into the back of the house.”
“I’m telling you, if that robot gets the door beat down and gets in, that will be the end of that robot. Leo will tip that over the second it comes over the doorstep. Apparently they can’t right themselves when they tip over. And you think Leo doesn’t know that? Well, if it’s too heavy for him to tip over, he’ll tie the fucking thing on. Let’s see the cowboys come try and rescue their playtoy then. Then the fun will start.
“You mark it down, Leo and that robot will square off. And I’d put my money on Leo. He’s going to destroy that loud, annoying little piece of electronic and mechanical shit. Tell me he’s not fed up with that. I can picture Leo pounding on that with a sledgehammer, and the cops outside trying to drag it back out through the door before Leo destroys it. Sure, the fucking thing is like a human. It talks to you. Knocks on your door. Actually pounds on your door. I fucking hate it and it never did anything to me. I just hate it for what it’s doing to my friend. To me it’s like an extra cop. Instead of legs and feet it has wheels and tires or maybe tracks. I can imagine what Leo’s feelings are for it.
“I’d say he’s keeping his cool. Look out when he flips. The cops will then get to know the real Leo Crockwell. Wait till he puts on the headband like Rambo did. When Rambo donned his headband, the game changed. Now I don’t know if Leo wears headbands, or even owns one for that matter, I’m just using Rambo and his headband as an example of how and when a situation can and does change. And you can rest assured this situation is going to change. They can’t keep this up forever. Someone has to make a move, and the person to make the move is Mr. Leo Crockwell.
“Okay, let’s do an overview of this situation. Power is cut, and we know where all the cops are situated. We know how many cops are in vehicles and how many are in houses and how many more are in the grass behind the house. The lights are set up behind the house. Cops by the side of the garage. Robot coming and going. Windows beat out of the basement and the downstairs portion of the house.
“It seems when they do something it takes them a long while to do it. Like days. I think they are soon going to add something else to this standoff, very soon. But the question is . . . what? All those cops coming in from the other provinces, you know that they have much more experience with stuff like this.”
“You mean standoffs and that?”
“Exactly, Joe. So you know that they’re going to use their know-how, what worked for them from their past experiences of successes or failures in other provinces. But do you think one of those outside cops are calling the shots?”
“I don’t know. I wouldn’t expect it. But who fucking knows? We’re getting zero info from the inside. And so we should. They can’t be letting their strategies be known.”
“You’re right. But it would be nice to know a little.”
“Dutch, you’re some nosy.”
“I know. I’d pay to be a fly on the wall inside that town hall. I bet they’re going to try a different tactic tonight. Be surprised if they didn’t.”
“I’m still wondering why they asked about the excavator. When you go home, ask Michael if he heard from the RCMP again.”
“I’m half expecting them to bring up a military tank. Why not? One with the safety guards all over it.”
“And Dutch, just what exactly would they do with a tank?”
“Ram the house.”
“Ram the house. You mean destroy his mother’s house?”
“Joe, they got to come up with something to get him out. They can’t leave him there forever.”
“But Dutch, they’re hardly going to destroy the house with a tank.”
“I saw them do it one night on America’s Most Wanted.”
“Yes, Dutch, but that was the Yankees, they’re fit for anything.”
“Joe, if we were in Detroit or California, do you think that this wouldn’t be over by now?”
“Yes, Dutch, most likely over, with Leo laid out over at my place.”
“Joe, you mark it down, something big will happen tonight.”
“You’re probably right, Dutch. But don’t repeat that thought of yours out loud, that you think they will bring in a tank to beat down the house. People hear you say that, they’ll think you’ve lost it.”
“All right, b’y, I won’t say it to anybody. But before this is over, something on a monumental scale will happen. You mark it down. If CBC are up on Ann Marie’s deck tonight come dark, that means that there is something going to happen. But we thought that last night, didn’t we? I think the cops just wanted to get their lights on the back of the house on TV, to show them off.
“You know how fucking childish some of them are. Some of them shouldn’t even be on the force. I could name a few that have been stationed in Ferryland over the years. Some of them real pricks, others real tools. And you know, some of the better ones that have been stationed in Ferryland over the years are women. Some of those women don’t give a fuck. Tough as nails. Some of them are tougher than some of those young male rookies.
“I’m going home early for supper this evening. Relax, stretch out on the couch for an hour or two.”
“Annie cooking for you?”
“What do you think? That’s what she is. She loves me. Thinks I’m a real sweetheart. Which I am.”
“Now, Dutch, don’t blow your horn too loud there, your head might explode.”
“Sharon, when we worked in the fish plant thirty years ago, you thought I was as cute as pie and a pleasure to work with.”
“You were. But you’ve turned into a mouthpiece over the years. Sure, when you were on council, every time the Southern Post came out you were in it for something.”
“Not my fault that Craig Westcott thought that what I had to say made a lot of sense. I’m glad he started up that rag again.”
“What? Westcott got the Southern Post out again?”
“He does, but he changed the name of it. It’s now called the Irish Loop Post. He only has it out once a month. He’s planning on printing it twice a month. It’s good, a great bit of local entertainment for the Shore. It’s also great for keeping an eye on all the local town councils and local service districts. And there is always an interesting story in there on someone, or some group or organization. Like the Brownies in Witless Bay or the Junior Breakers. I hope someone told Craig the colours of Bay Bulls are green and white, not burgundy and white as he stated when he talked about the colour of the new town hall when he did the piece on the grand opening in the fall. I guess he never took in a Southern Shore hockey game in his youth.
“Anyway, enough gabbing. I’m gone for something to eat. I’ll be back around six thirty to quarter to seven. See you then.”
I drove to Witless Bay, to Tina’s mother’s house. Her husband, Michael, was sitting at the kitchen table when I went in.
“Okay, Dutch, fill me in on what’s on the go with Leo.”
“Well, actually, Michael, not a whole lot. Other than the cops beat most of the windows out in the basement of Leo’s house last night.”
“How did they do that?”
“The robot. It has something sticking out the front of it. Something like an arm.”
“Why would they do that to the poor old fellow?”
“Well, I guess they’re trying to make it as uncomfortable for him as possible.”
“How much longer can this go on for, Dutch?”
“Good question. Who ever thought that this would be going on this long? Today is the fifth day and there doesn’t seem to be an ending coming anytime soon. They never realize
d the can of worms that was opened when they surrounded that house.”
“But Dutch, they can’t let this go on forever. They have six or seven families out of their houses. Five businesses closed down, and the mail coming over here to Witless Bay. Time for someone to do something. If the RCMP can’t get him out, why don’t they let the RNC have a try at it? They can’t do any worse than what the RCMP are doing.”
“I agree, this is unheard of. Wouldn’t go on in Montreal or Toronto. They’d pepper the house with smoke bombs and go in and drag out the person they were after. End of story. Michael, I think they’re trying everything in their power not to repeat what happened in Bonavista and Corner Brook in 2000.”
“I never thought of that. But it makes sense. You going back tonight?”
“That’s what I am. I may as well see this through. I’m over in the pit since this started.”
“How many cops in Bay Bulls today, do you think?”
“Michael, I’d say there are at least seventy.”
“Seventy cops and they can’t get him out. Is he that cagey?”
“That’s what he is. We’ve been saying it all week, that they’re not dealing with the average joe. They’re dealing with a highly intelligent individual.”
“I always found him to be a fine fellow. Nice fellow to stand to the bar with over to the Beehive or down to the Swamp on a Sunday afternoon, to have a few beer and a yarn with. A lot like his father. Dermott was a decent fellow, too. Don’t know any of the other family members.”
“Michael, did the cops call you yet?”
“Called this evening, told me to bring one trailer to Foodland between seven and eight tomorrow morning. That’s if they still need it.”
“That’s interesting, ‘if they still need it.’ We’re expecting something very big to happen tonight.”
“Like what?”
“No idea. Last night they never let up with the robot. Every forty- five minutes to an hour that would go behind the house to torment Leo.”
“What do you mean, to torment?”
“Well, the robot would go behind the house singing out to Leo to come out. Saying, ‘Come out, Leo, we won’t hurt you. Come out, Leo, we’ll pay for your mother’s house.’”