by T. K. Chapin
Shaking his head, he said, “No. Cameras and security guards. I’d rather not go back to prison. How about you drop it off at this address?” He slipped a card in my coat pocket. “Drop it off by noon.” He patted my shoulder and said, “Don’t try anything cute.”
“Okay,” I squeezed out as I still hurt. Turning, I grabbed for my door and crawled into the driver seat. I sighed and started to regain my composure. My door was still open.
“Oh, and hey, Rick,” the kid said suddenly, leaning down into my driver’s side door.
I looked over and up at him.
“I’d hate to see that firefighter rally get ugly . . . so really, don’t try anything.”
He vanished away from my car door and I put my hand on my chest to help myself cool down from the anger. “Ugh!” I moaned as I reached out and smacked the steering wheel.
I drove back to the bank and went inside. Upset and distraught, I returned to the same teller and requested to withdraw all the money from the account.
“Are you okay?” she asked, looking at my head, which was doused in sweat.
There wasn’t a farther place I could be from okay in that moment, which she could obviously see in my face, but I couldn’t say anything. She’d be suspicious. “I’m fine.”
“Okay . . .” She began counting out the hundreds in front of me and my heart pounded harder with each bill as she laid it down. Being forced to drain my bank account? What kind of idiot does he think I am? I wondered. He’s just a kid!
“You know what?” I said. “Stop. Forget this. Put it all back. I changed my mind.”
“Okay . . .” She began to reverse the process and put all the money back into the drawer.
“We done here?” I asked.
“Yeah. Unless you wanted to do something else. Sir, are you sure you’re okay?”
I patted the counter and shook my head. “We’re done.”
Leaving the bank, I immediately made my way down to Heidi’s diner to talk to Ron. He would know what to do to resolve this issue. Some twenty-something year old punk wasn’t going to dictate my life. Being pressured and bullied into doing something wasn’t something Ron ever tolerated. There was one time when I came into the diner in tears as a young school boy because of a bully I’d had a run in with at school. Ron sat me down on the stool and asked me what happened. When I told him, he shook his head, tossed the towel over his shoulder, and looked me square in the eye. He explained to me why people bully and how I could use my intelligence to battle against the bullies. At the ripe age of twelve, he taught me how to defend myself with words and intelligence, destroying my enemies with intellect.
Getting to the diner, I went straight for the kitchen. Pushing open the swinging kitchen doors, I looked Ron in the eyes and said, “Can we talk?”
He nodded.
Penny tapped my shoulder as she was standing right next to me, just outside the kitchen. “Ricky, you know you can’t be behind the counter,” she said.
“Sorry,” I replied, letting go of the doors. “I’ll be in that booth over there, waiting for Ron.”
“Want some coffee while you wait?” she asked.
“No thanks. It’ll be quick.”
Going over to the booth, I took a seat. My foot nervously shook as I waited for him to come out. My insides felt like they were boiling with frustration.
Ron came out from the kitchen, and I jumped up from the booth to greet him. He shook my hand and took a seat across the table.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“How do you know something is wrong?”
He shrugged. “I’ve known you for a long time, kid. You have never come into the back like that. What’s up?”
“I got myself in a sticky situation, and I need your help.”
“What kind of stickiness are we talkin’?”
“Really sticky.”
I explained to him everything that had happened with the poker night and today. He listened and waited until the very end to speak.
“Well . . . there’s only one solution, Rick.”
“And?” I leaned in closer. “What is it?”
He stood up from the booth and said, “I’ll be right back.” He took off through the kitchen and disappeared for a few minutes. I didn’t know what he was doing, but I was sure he had a masterful and clever plan.
Coming back over to the booth, he sat down and said quietly, “Under the table.”
“What?”
“Take it.”
Reaching under the table, I felt for what he was giving me, and when the cold metal touched against the palm of my hand, I knew exactly what it was. Taking it, I pulled it into my lap.
It was a gun.
“Really? What am I going to do with this?” I asked in a loud whisper as I leaned against the table.
“You shoot, ya dummy!”
“You taught me to use my words and intelligence when dealing with bullies.”
He laughed heartily. “That was school . . . this is real life. You are being threatened. You have to protect yourself!”
“I don’t know if I can shoot someone,” I said.
He looked over to see a woman glance over at us. “Keep your voice down,” he said in a whisper. “You probably won’t have to use it, but if you need to, you’ll be glad you have it. I would never recommend killing a person, but you have to keep yourself and those you care about protected.”
Looking down at the gun, I asked, “I haven’t shot a lot of guns—”
“That’s a 22—not a lot of kick, but it’ll get the job done. It has a loaded clip with good bullets, so you don’t have to do anything other than switch the safety off, cock it and then blast the fool away.”
“Okay.” I put the gun into my coat pocket and looked at him. “Man, I thought this was over. It had been weeks.”
Ron nodded. “I wonder what he meant about doing things he wasn’t proud of doing.”
Shrugging, I replied, “I don’t know. I’m worried about the rally.”
“Well, I’d tell the cops there about the threat,” Ron said.
“It’d get back around to the station, and I don’t want them finding out about all this.”
“Well, depending on how bad this guy is, it could be bad, Rick.”
Shaking my head, I said, “He’s a kid. I don’t think it’ll get too crazy.”
“True. The gun should scare him if he tries messin’ with you again.” Ron glanced over his shoulder back toward the kitchen. “Orders are lining up for me. I better get back at it.”
I stood up from the booth and shook his hand. “Thanks for everything, Ron.”
“No problem. You take care and let me know how everything turns out.”
“Thanks,” I replied.
Leaving the diner, it was about eleven o’clock in the morning. There wasn’t much time to get home, have lunch and shower before meeting up with the guys at the station at twelve thirty.
CHAPTER 11
Arriving at the station, I made it there just as Cole, Micah, Kane and Brian were getting into Cole’s SUV. I parked and jumped in with them.
Closing the door, I sat back and said, “Thanks for waiting.”
“No problem. This is your rally, Alderman,” Cole said.
“Yeah. This whole thing was genius on your part,” Micah added.
“I don’t know about genius, but thanks anyway,” I replied, buckling my seat belt.
Kane looked at me with a strange look on his face as he looked at my side. Glancing at where my gun was, he said, “What’s in your pocket?”
“Nothing,” I replied.
Kane grabbed at my pocket and felt. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “That’s a gun! Alderman has a gun!”
Cole shot a quick look back at me, “Why do you have a gun?”
“Protection. Why else?”
“You haven’t ever carried a gun,” Brian said.
“How would you know, Rookie?” I snapped. “You don’t know me.”
> “Hey, now,” Micah said. “I know you. And I haven’t ever seen you carry.”
“Well, I am now. We’re all firemen. We know firsthand how crazy life can get. Can we just drop it?”
“Yes, that’s true, but none of us have ever packed. Anyway, I agree, let’s drop it,” Micah replied.
An awkward silence filled the air for a moment before Cole broke it. “So this rally is suspected to pull around thirty thousand people from around the Spokane area.”
“Wow . . . that’s a lot of people,” Brian said.
“Did we get word on if the Mayor is going to speak?” I asked, leaning up toward Micah and Cole in the front seat.
“They said she’ll probably step out and greet the crowd since it’s not a protest, just a showing of support for those who protect and serve the community.”
“It is a protest, though,” I replied.
Cole shrugged. “Guess they aren’t seeing it that way in her office.”
“Man, I sure hope this works,” Brian said. “I don’t want to get axed.”
“You would be the one to get axed,” I said. “I’m sure you can go back to flipping burgers or something real nice like that.”
“Don’t be rude,” Kane said. “Gomer has been here for a while, it’s time to relax on the blows I’d say.”
I scoffed. “Look at you, McCormick. Getting a soft spot for the rookie. That girl getting to you, or do you just remember the feeling of being a rookie? I’m leaning toward that girl’s sweet cakes messin’ with your head.”
“Shut it. Kristen isn’t the girl that worked in the bakery. You’re mis-remembering, ya old timer.”
“Hey now,” Micah said, turning to us from the front passenger seat. “I’m about the same age as Alderman.”
“Sorry,” Kane said, dipping his chin.
“I was just playing with Gomer anyway. He knows I like him.”
As we pulled up to city hall, we saw the guys we all chipped in to hire setting up the stage and microphone out on the grass that sat across the street in the park.
“You nervous about speaking, Cole?” I asked.
He shook his head as he shot a look back at me. “Jensen is doing it now.”
“Oh, yeah? I thought you were.”
“Nah . . . he thought it was best if it came from him.”
“I see,” I replied, looking out the window as I watched a couple of people walking through the park on their way over toward the stage. Seeing a homeless looking man sitting down at one of the trees near the stage, I said, “What’s up with the random homeless guy?”
Everyone looked out the window as we parked.
Kane said, “That’s Old Man Smiles, he’s cool.”
I asked, “Old Man Smiles? You know him?”
He nodded. “I’ll introduce you. He’s a nice guy.”
Piling out of the car, Kane and I headed over to the tree that had the homeless man at it. Looking up at us, the man smiled warmly. “Good day to the both of you, what can I do for you?”
Kane smiled and said, “I wanted to introduce my buddy to you. Do you remember me from the restaurant back a while ago?”
The man rose up to his feet and squinted as he looked at Kane. “Oh, yes. How could I forget such a kind man? I was hungry and you put a twenty in my hand.”
“You gave him twenty bucks?” I asked Kane, turning to him.
“Yeah,” he replied. Kane looked at the guy and asked, “Did you feed your friends?”
“Oh yes… We ate like royalty under the bridge that night, and for a moment of time, we had all forgotten we were without a home.”
Kane nodded as he listened with intrigue.
“McCormick, Alderman!” Cole shouted from near the stage.
“It was nice seeing you again,” Kane said, extending a hand to shake Old Man Smiles’ hand.
“Nice meeting you,” I said, shaking Old Man Smiles’s hand.
On the way over to the stage, I looked back at the man again. He was strange, but he possessed a poetic way with words. I liked that.
“I need you two to help with the cases of water,” Cole said as we approached him. “They’re over there in that silver van.” Cole pointed over to a van parked along side of the park that was a pretty good walking distance away.
Kane and I walked through the grass, headed for the vans. “That old guy was pretty cool, wasn’t he?” Kane asked.
“Interesting, that’s for sure. How’d he end up homeless?”
Kane shot a look over his shoulder back over to the tree where the old man was. “I don’t know—never asked. I don’t see him a whole lot other than when I see him walking the streets and waving to cars.”
“Mr. Taylor said he needed you over at the stage,” a kid said, approaching me.
“Okay.” I made my way over to Cole near the stage.
“Alderman,” Cole said, dropping his clipboard to his side.
“Yeah, what is it?”
“We need to talk,” he said, motioning me away from the growing crowd that was gathering in front of the stage.
“All right.” Following him over to a quiet spot away from the crowd, I stood idly waiting for him to speak. A few minutes went by and I raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“So . . . we had a threat on the rally,” he said.
My ears began ringing as my heart raced out of control. Cole kept talking, but all I could think about was the kid and his threat. “What was the threat?”
“Someone said they planted a bomb in the park,” Cole said. Noticing his eyes wander to my coat’s side, I knew what he was looking at. “I have to ask. Do you know something we need to know?”
Shifting my step, I moved my arm to block the gun he was staring at in my pocket. “No.”
“Just coincidence that you showed up with a gun today?” Cole knew something was up.
Stealing a glance of the crowd for a moment, I saw people. Residents, both young and old, and even a few children mixed in with the crowd. They were all there to support us.
Cole put his hand on my shoulder, “These people could be in danger, Alderman.”
Nodding, I looked him dead in the eye. I let a long sigh come out from my lips. It felt like weight was shifting off my body as the words came out. “I got mixed up with some bad people, I’m afraid.”
“What?” Cole scowled.
Shaking my head, I said, “He’s just a kid. I don’t think he’ll do anything.”
“Kid? How old?” Cole inquired.
“Like twenties? Maybe twenty-two or something,” I said.
Cole looked over his shoulder at city hall and then back at me. “Alderman. I’m calling this whole thing off.”
“Cole,” I said, grabbing his shoulder as he was about to leave.
He turned and shrugged my hand off my shoulder. His eyebrows furrowed. He said, “There isn’t a choice in the matter, Rick!”
He darted over to the rest of the coordinators and I began to fume with anger—not at Cole, but at the kid. He was messing with my life now.
Seeing Susan pull up to the park, I headed over to the car and got in.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Looking over at her, I shook my head. “They called it off.”
“Why?”
She had no idea how loaded of a question that was. “Bomb scare.”
“That’s ridiculous! It’s probably just the mayor or her cronies messing with your rally! I’d still do it!” she demanded in all seriousness.
“It’s not that simple, Susan.” Reaching up, I pulled my seat belt down over my chest and latched it in.
“Yeah, it is.” She looked out the windshield and must have spotted Cole. “I’m going to talk to Cole.”
“No!” I shouted, grabbing her arm. “Just let it go, Susan. It’s not going to change anything.”
She shook her head and turned the car back on. “Just isn’t right . . .”
“I know,” I replied. When I looked out the window, I noticed there w
as a lot of work left to do with taking everything down. I said, “You can just go home. I’ll stay and help clean up.”
“I can help. There isn’t anything pressing at home.”
Having Susan involved with the cleanup and around Cole when he knew more truth than she did worried me. The risk of her finding everything out was greater now than ever. Looking at her, I said, “Just head home, dear, the guys got this.”
She frowned slightly and said, “You don’t want me here. I understand.”
Touching her arm softly, I leaned in and said, “It’s not that. I just feel it’s best if it’s just me and the guys. We are all pretty bummed, and I don’t think having women here will let us vent that in a healthy way.”
She pointed out Kristen and said, “Kane’s girlfriend is helping.”
“She’s probably leaving pretty quickly.”
“Okay,” she replied, defeated. It tore me to pieces that she felt so unwanted, but her knowing the truth or the kid trying something with her in the park didn’t sound good either. “Rick . . . can I at least go say ‘hi’ to Kristen? She’s the one that suggested that lemon cake recipe we had the other day.”
There wasn’t a reason I could come up with to shoot it down. Nodding, I said, “Yeah, go ahead, dear, it was a wonderful cake.”
Getting out of the car, we headed over to the stage. She veered off toward Kristen and I headed over to Cole. Interrupting his conversation with some of the workers, I said, “Hey man. Keep it quiet about my having the gun and knowing about the threat.”
He furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s going on, Alderman?” he demanded as the workers walked away.
Susan and Kristen came over to us with Kane. I widened my eyes at Cole to push the fact I didn’t want him saying anything.
“That’s not right that this all got shut down because of a threat, Cole,” she said. “I was telling Rick I think it was probably the mayor’s cronies behind it all.”
Cole nodded slightly but didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned and started conversing with the stage workers that he had previously been talking to.
Looking over at me, Kristen asked, “Did you like the cake?”
“Yeah, it was good cake.” Looking over at Susan, I smiled.
“Well, I better get going,” Susan said, pulling her keys out from her purse.