Living the American Dream

by Frank Cereo

  “What’s the matter don’t you like to look at accidents?” The trucker asks.

  “No not really, I was in a bad accident when my father died right in front of me.” I say as I lie to cover up.

  “Oh I’m sorry I didn’t know.” The trucker replies.

  “That’s alright you didn’t know.” I respond.

  I relax and stay awake for the rest of the ride. By sunrise we are pulling into Baltimore. The trucker exits off I-95 and lets me off before he delivers his load. I know I am short on funds and don’t want to use what money I have left for a hotel room. With the sun shining I find a warm place to hide for the day inside the bus depot. I find a seat in the back of the station and pretend to be waiting for a bus that departs at 5pm for Boston. With my bag on my lap I fall asleep.

  Chapter 21 – The Baltimore Hero

  Sitting at the bus station, I figure I can catch up on my sleep and then hitch a ride north. I figure I was far enough north that my trail is hidden. I want to sleep until darkness then I can make my move. Then all of a sudden I was awakened by someone shaking my arm. I look up with glazed and sleep filled eyes and I see a dark blue uniform. I lift my hands to rub my eyes.

  “What’s up officer?” I ask.

  “There is no soliciting here. Get your ass up and get out of here.” The officer says.

  “But I am waiting for the 5pm bus to Boston.” I answer.

  “Let me see your ticket.” The officer asks.

  I reach into my pockets like I am looking for a ticket. I search the front pockets and back pockets of my pants and then I check in the coat pockets. My search doesn’t deter the officer from his duties. When I finish searching my pockets I look at him with discouraged eyes.

  “Just as I thought no ticket. Get the hell out of here before I take you in.” The officer says as he pulls me up.

  “Take it easy I’m going.” I say as I grab my bag and start to exit the bus terminal.

  I start to walk out the front door as the officer grabs me by the shoulder. He pushes me against the glass windows.

  “Can I see what’s in the bag?” The officer asks.

  Now I start to get a little nervous. I set the bag down on a chair and start to reach for the zipper.

  “You don’t have probable cause to search my bag.” I say.

  “Open the bag now.” The officer says as he pulls out his gun.

  Now everyone inside the bus terminal is looking at me and the officer. I am caught between a rock and a hard place. I reach for the zipper and start to unzip the bag.

  “Are you sure you want a whiff of my dirty underwear?” I say as the entire bus terminal breaks out laughing.

  “Just do as your told or else.” The officer says as he is a little embarrassed.

  I reach in the bag and pull out a pair of clean underwear. I throw the underwear in his face as he swings his gun hand to knock the underwear to the floor. Everyone inside the bus terminal busts out laughing as the clean underwear fall harmlessly to the floor. I look at the police officer and I can see fire in his eyes.

  “Open that fucking bag.” He yells in my face as I thrust my knife under his bullet proof vest.

  When I pulled out the pair of underwear, I also grabbed the knife. I used the underwear as a diversion knowing I wasn’t getting away without opening my bag. I could see in the police officers face that he was in severe pain. I could feel his warm blood begin to leak out onto my hand. All the people inside the bus terminal were all too busy laughing to even notice what had just happened. They couldn’t see his face because his back was facing them. To cover it all up I keep the knife embedded inside the man as I put my arm around him and escort him out the door. I grab my bag as we walk out the door. I walk him around the corner and into an alley and that’s where I finish him off. I pull the knife out of his belly and slit his throat. He is caught by surprise thinking I was only a vagrant living on the street. I drag his body and lay it behind a dumpster. I wipe the blood off my hands by using his uniform. Then I walk back to the front of the bus terminal where everyone could see I was back.

  “See I told you there was nothing in my bag. You have a nice day too officer.” I say as I turn around and walk back into the bus terminal.

  Everyone inside the bus station claps and I take a bow. I grab my underwear off the floor and throw it into my bag. I close the zipper on the bag and head out the door. Another body that will be found and soon they will be back on my trail again. I still have a few minutes or hours before his body is found. I will use that time to my advantage. Quickly I vacate the scene. I find my way to the on ramp of I-83 north. I put my thumb out and no sooner than five minutes I have a ride to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Then I land a ride on I-81 north that gets me into Binghamton, New York by nightfall. I walk into the bus terminal in Binghamton and look up for the departures to Syracuse. The TV is on and it’s located next to the arrival and departure screen. The TV is set to the FOX News Network when something the woman news anchors says grabs my attention.

  “Breaking news today, a Baltimore police officer has been found stabbed to death in an alley on the side of the bus station. Witnesses say a man wearing an Atlanta Braves cap and coat had an altercation with the police officer. No one could ID the man because he was covered up with the coat and cap. It is believed that this may be Freddy Church from Syracuse, New York. A mass murderer that has plotted out a scheme to kill everyone responsible for his personal dilemma. If you see this man do not take action and call 911.” The new anchor says while showing a picture of me.

  I remain calm because there are only a few people in the bus depot. I slowly turn around and see a women with a child. She is too busy attending to her infant that she didn’t even hear the broadcast. The other man in the corner looks like a homeless person by the way he is dressed. I know he didn’t hear the report because his eyes are closed and he is snoring. This only leaves the clerk behind the counter. I know he cannot see the TV because it’s above him on the outer wall.

  “Can I help you?” The clerk asks.

  “Yes you can. When is the next bus to Boston?” I ask with a Boston accent.

  “There is no direct bus to Boston from here. You have to take the bus to New York City and then take the bus from there to Boston.” The clerk replies.

  “Ok no thank you. I will take a flight out of the Binghamton airport.” I answer as I turn and walk towards the door.

  I no quicker get out on the street and I throw the baseball cap into a trash receptacle. The coat will be a little tougher to get rid of because it’s December and it’s starting to get cold. I start to walk the streets of Binghamton. I have one advantage and that’s the darkness that comes during the short days of winter. The one bad thing is this coat sticks out like a sore thumb and I need to replace real soon.

  “Nice coat sir?” A kid says as I walk by him on the street.

  “Thank you,” I answer.

  My first thought was to exchange coats with the boy. Then I thought about it and what if his parents ask questions about where he got the coat. I have to figure that law enforcement knows where I am heading. The one good thing is they don’t know where I am right now. This works to my advantage because I only have one target remaining. Pedro Wallawitz is my last target and my work will be done. After I complete that task I don’t care what happens to me. I have to figure that law enforcement knows who my last target is and they may be protecting him. My work will be cut out but I am determined to finish this task or die trying. Then before I know it I’m walking down Front Street and I see a Wal-Mart. Quickly I ditch the Braves coat in a trash can outside the store. I walk inside the store and find a blue winter coat. I look at the price and see if I can afford it. This will just about wipe me out. I know I need the coat so I purchase it. I also buy a whole roasted chicken and a bottle of Pepsi. I walk outside the store with seven dollars and twenty nine cents left. I am so hungry I rip a leg off the chicken and tear my teeth into the tender meat. Then I rip off the second leg
followed by the two wings. Before I know it I have walked out of Binghamton and I am walking north on Route 11. The wind picks up and snow flurries begin to fall. I look up and down the road and there are no cars to be seen. I look at my watch and see it’s a half past eleven. The wind is blowing from the northwest and that tells me the wind chill is going to make it colder than it feels. I know I need to find cover and I don’t want to break into a house. Then the snow begins to fall at a faster rate. If I stay out in this weather it might kill me. So I walk into a wooded area. I find a dense area filled with pine trees so a fire cannot be seen from the road. I gather some wood and start a small fire. I break off a few pine branches and lay then on the ground for bedding. The trees provide cover while the fire provides warmth. When the fire is putting off a little heat, I kick back my feet and finish eating my chicken. I throw the plastic container and bones into the fire as I finish eating one side of the breast.

  “Man that wind is cold.” I say as I can feel the wind blowing through the trees.

  I add a few more pieces of wood to the fire. I cover myself with a few pine branches to keep me warm. The fire crackles while I drink my Pepsi. The fire staves off the cold as the flames dance into the night. The flames have my attention as I stare into fire. I can see the different colored flames for I am memorized. Within a few minutes exhaustion is beginning to catching up to me. I set my head down on the ground and look into the fire. Soon my eyelids are getting heavy as it’s getting harder to keep them open. I try and try to stay awake but I can’t and I fall asleep.

  Chapter 22 – The Journey Home

  The next morning I woke up freezing cold because the fire burned out. I finished my Pepsi and put the bottle in my pocket because the five cent refund was needed due to my funds running low. I slowly get to my feet and walk out into the clearing. To my surprise everything is covered in a blanket of snow.

  “Fuck me, I don’t have any boots. Grin and bear it because it is what it is.” I say as I start to walk through the snow covered field.

  I am wearing white New Balance sneakers that I bought from the thrift store. The three inches of snow covers the tops of the sneakers as I walk through the field. By the time I reach the road my feet are wet. I start to walk north again and by sun up I reach Cortland. I take a left on Route 41 and start to head home. Before I start my walk I stop into a coffee shop. I order a large coffee and a plain bagel. I pay the three dollars and ninety five cents for my breakfast.

  “I seen you walking. Where are you heading?” A young woman asks.

  The girl is five feet nine inches tall with long blond hair. She is well dressed wearing a red dress with black nylons and a pair of black knee high boots. She has blue eyes with a thin narrow face. She has a very small frame which makes her legs look long. What impresses me the most is she is wearing very little makeup and she looks stunning.

  “I’m heading up to a little town just north of Auburn called Throop.” I answer.

  “Well I’m heading to Auburn where I work. If you want a ride I would sure like the company.” The young woman replies.

  “Sounds good to me.” I reply.

  The girl gets her coffee and we walk out to her car together. She is driving a 1995 Ford Taurus. The cars body is a little beat up and rusted. She unlocks the door and we both get in. I take a sip of my large coffee. The warmth of the drink fills my body.

  “Do you mind if I eat my bagel in your car?” I ask.

  “In this old piece of shit. Go right ahead.” She says with a smile.

  “It may be an old piece of shit but it gets you where you are going.” I reply.

  “Oh I know, I just have bigger dreams than my pocketbook can offer.” She says with a smile.

  “We all have bigger dreams than we can fulfill. By the way how many miles do you have on the car?” I ask.

  “354K and still purring.” She replies.

  “Wow, I guess you got your money out of her.” I reply.

  “Yeah it was my father’s work car. He gave it to me when I went off to college and I have been driving it ever since.” She replies with a smile.

  “What’s your name?” I ask.

  “Rebecca but everyone calls me Becca.” Becca replies.

  “It nice to meet you Becca. My name is Fred” I say as I put my hand out to shake her hand.

  “Please to meet you Fred.” Becca responds.

  I start to eat my bagel and break off a piece and hand it to Becca. She takes the small piece and thanks me. I watch as she drives on the slushy roads with both hands on the wheel. I can see she is a little nervous and doesn’t enjoy winter driving. I finish my bagel and take another long sip of my hot coffee. The radio is tuned on to a country western channel. I look down at her stocking clad legs with the boots. There is a hint of white lace peeking out under her dress. I look over at her left hand and there is no ring. I wonder how a pretty woman like this isn’t engaged or married. Then she reaches in her bag and pull out a pack of Marlboros. She pulls one out and puts it in her mouth. Quickly she lights up the cigarette and takes a deep drag. She then cracks her window for the smoke to escape. She looks over at me and sees me staring at her.

  “What’s wrong?” Becca asks with concern.

  “Smoking,” I reply with disgust.

  “I started back in college and now I can’t seem to find the will power to quit.” Becca replies as she takes another drag.

  “It’s not a healthy addiction.” I say as I turn and look out my window.

  “Why did someone close to you die from a smoking related illness?” Becca asks with concern.

  “Yeah my mother and father were heavy smokers. My father dropped dead at the age of fifty from a massive heart attack. My mother wasn’t so lucky because she suffered through three years with lung cancer.” I reply in a low tone.

  “I am so sorry to hear that Fred.” Becca says as she throw the cigarette out the window.

  Becca drives towards Auburn on Route 41A. It’s shorter than Route 41 but it has many twists and turns. I try to keep the conversation to a minimum but I want keep it simple.

  “So where do you work?” I ask.

  “Wallawitz Creations and Designs.” Becca replies.

  “Do you like working there?” I ask.

  “It’s ok but I have my concerns about the owner. He is getting awfully friendly lately.” Becca says.

  “Do yourself a favor never get involved with your boss. They are only trying to get into your panties.” I say as I take another sip of coffee.

  “You don’t have to worry about that. He is not my type and seems a little creepy.” Becca says as she turns onto Heifer Road that’s leads to Route 38A.

  “Good for you. Keep a good head on your shoulders and you should go far.” I say.

  Within a few minutes we are heading in to Auburn. Becca drives into downtown and drops me off. I open the door to get out and before I close it I thank her.

  “Fred, I promise I will quit smoking and you’re welcome.” Becca says as I close the door.

  I watch as Becca drives away. I know what she is going through working for one of the biggest assholes in the world. It just pisses me off that he is making advances towards her against her will. I make my way to a flea bag motel located just outside the city. I know I don’t have enough money to pay for the room but I will only need it for the day. I need the room to get a little sleep and to shower before I finish what I started out to do. When I reach the old Sleepy Hollow Motel there are only a few cars parked out front. The left side of the motel seems to be under construction and the right side is still in use. I walk into the office and an older Indian gentleman with a turban comes out to the counter.

  “How can I help you?” The man asks with an Indian accent.

  “Can I have a room for the day?” I ask.

  “As you can see the motel is under construction. I have no rooms available. So good day sir.” The man says in a rude tone.

  The Indian man turns his back on me and walks into th
e back room. What a fucking prick and stuck up asshole he is. I start to walk down the drive when I notice there are no construction workers onsite. So I sneak around towards the back of the motel and check each window. Low and behold I get lucky and one is left open. It’s the room second from the end. I lift the window up and climb inside. I can see where the construction workers are working on the bathroom installing a new toilet, tub and a sink. The walls in the bedroom are taped and ready for painting. I figure I would stay awake for a little bit and see if the workers arrive to work today. By ten in the morning no has arrived to work so a lay on the bed and make my plan for the last murder. I figure where Wallawitz Creations and Designs is located no one will see me hiding in the tall grass surrounding the building. I know for a fact Pedro works late at night talking to clients and entertaining guests. The man even designed a playboy pad inside the facility. Knowing Pedro he will insist that no federal agents will be allowed inside his facility after business hours. He will send them to his house where everyone is anticipating the attack to occur. If I am correct he will be inside the facility after five. The question is will he be on the phone or entertaining a guest. I go over the plan ten maybe fifteen times to make sure I am ready. I know he won’t be expecting me but I have to make sure I play out all the scenarios before I go through with the attack. By noon I am mentally exhausted and I am ready for a nap.

  “I wonder if the shower works.” I says as I walk into the bathroom.