Rum Running IV

“This is the first time this has ever happened to me. I’ve always had peaceful runs but don’t worry, I’ll lose them. Yes, that’s a Tommy gun, don’t mess with it, it’s bad enough with things shooting at us from the outside, let alone the inside.”

“So little faith, besides, I told you to start with I wasn’t going to be holding any guns. Not my thing.”

Arthur looked back and could see their truck being followed by the car. The truck couldn’t move as fast, as encumbered with the trailer as it was. Up ahead were the lights of a farm house, he was going to have to make a decision.

“Can you hand me the gun and grab the wheel for me?” Arthur asked David grimly.

“Won’t that make me your getaway driver?” David asked uncertain for the first time since Arthur had known him.

“I hate to say this but it’s either that or get shot,” Arthur snapped. He wanted to protect his friend certainly, but not at the cost of their lives.

“I can’t drive,” David protested even as he climbed back into his seat holding the gun.

“Doesn’t matter, doesn’t take skill, just hold her steady,” Arthur snapped. It was too dark to see his friend’s face but he could hear the concern in David’s voice. Arthur took the Tommy and stuck his head out of the window. The car following them still hadn’t turned on their lights so it was only a brief shadow as it came through the pasture after them. That shadow was enough for Arthur to aim at though.

“That thing is louder then I expected,” commented David, now back to his normal self as Arthur fired the gun at their pursuers. David wasn’t doing a very good job of holding them steady, he was veering to the left, but that was fine by Arthur since it would mean they would miss the farm house. He wondered if David was doing it on purpose or if it was just chance.

“They aren’t stopping,” Arthur commented once he was out of ammunition. “I know I’m hitting them, but not enough to stop them.”

“Hard to sympathize with you about that when I know you’re trying to kill them,” David.

“I wouldn’t expect you to, this isn’t your thing,” Arthur told David. Behind him he could hear gunshots again; the car was firing on them. He reached to take the wheel back just as they lurched. It took Arthur a second to figure out what had happened, they had lost a tire. One of the bullets flying around them had to have hit one of the truck’s tires. He instantly hit the breaks, it would make them sitting ducks but it was better then loosing control of the truck.

“We’re going to die,” said David, still calm.

“There’s a real chance of that,” Arthur admitted, digging under the seats for more ammunition. He reloaded his guns and waited as the car crept up behind them, he guessed that they knew he wasn’t going to surrender without a fight. Especially since surrender probably meant death as well, that or being held hostage against his father, Arthur found himself wondering if he would be a valuable hostage or not. That counted a lot on his father’s feeling for him, something that he still wasn’t very sure about, even after all of these years working for him.

“Get back on the floor,” Arthur ordered David. “There’s going to be more shooting and people without guns should keep out of it.” Now that they were stopped Arthur could see David better. He could see David hesitate and then obey.

Guns opened up and for a second Arthur thought that the car that had been following them had opened fire prematurely to scare them. That didn’t make any sense though because it would damage the cargo and the cargo was what they were after. Instead he realized the shots were coming from a different direction. David had been blocking his view from the other window but now he realized they were not alone in the field, the shots were coming from cars driving down the road towards them at top speeds. Never in his life had Arthur been more relieved to see the police.

The car that had chased them into the field turned off, almost close enough that they brushed sides, and took off in the opposite direction. Arthur looked towards the farm house with its lights still on. Of course the owners of the house had probably heard them shooting even before they turned into the pasture, they must have a telephone.

“The cops, might as well get up,” Arthur told David.

“You’re not going to shoot them are you?” David asked.

“Couldn’t get away even if I did, not with this tire, I guess it’s time to give up,” Arthur realized what he was saying and looked regretful at his friend. “With the shooting and this cargo I don’t guess it’ll go easy on us. My father has some influence and I can get us a good lawyer but,” his voice trialed off. First there would be explaining to his father what David was doing in the truck, his father had some well placed bribes spread out but it would take some doing to get his father to decide David was worth wasting favors on.

They were now surrounded by the police, lights trained on them from every car. Arthur guessed that just about ever car the local police had was around them, and every officer in the department had their guns out and trained on them.

“Get out with your hands on your head,” a voice ordered through a megaphone. David looked over at him and shrugged, and then he opened his door and obeyed. Arthur followed after him and the police rushed forward. Already some of them were opening the back of the truck and pulling out cases of whiskey. An officer hurried off and Arthur imagined he was probably going to go get a revenue officer. None seemed present, Arthur wondered why. He would have thought that they would have brought one with the rest of the department.

“Just like in the radio shows,” David said, smiling at him as he allowed himself to be handcuffed. Arthur shook his head, nothing could faze David, but he couldn’t manage to smile back. For all of his promises to himself he had ruined David’s future. No matter what happened next, David would forever be a part of their world now.

Rum Running III

“I don’t see anything,” David commented, peering out of the dark windshield. For the last few miles Arthur had refused to turn on his headlights. Arthur had finally pulled off on the side of the road and announced that they were there but for all David could see it was a normal cornfield.

“If you could see something then I would be very suspicious,” Arthur said, digging a revolver from under his seat and sticking it in his overcoat pocket. “Just in case,” he explained when he saw David’s face. “I don’t expect any trouble. Just the same, keep your head down; I don’t want you getting seen. If you get pulled into this business you’ll never get out of it, it keeps a hold on you. Just in case something happens to me, drive out of here as fast as you can.” Before David could protest about any of what he had said, Arthur left the cab of the truck and walked a couple of feet into the corn.

“Who’s it?” demanded a coarse voice. Arthur had no doubt that it was armed; they always were, so he stopped.

“I’m from the Huntley Hotel,” Arthur said, naming his father’s headquarters, knowing that would be enough. No need to spread unnecessary names around, his name for instance, if he had any say in the matter.

“Step into the light,” said the voice, and suddenly there was a light farther into the corn field. Arthur walked towards it, admiring the caution his contacts displayed. It made him feel safer to know that there wasn’t likely to be any leaks.

There were three men in the clearing in the corn, for a moment Arthur wondered what the farmer thought of that clearing and then dismissed the thought. The farmer was probably paid handsomely for use of his field; he might even be more involved in this affair then that. All three of the men having guns trained on him was a more immediate concern for Arthur. They guns were only lowered marginally when he held his hands slightly up to show them empty.

“You alone?” asked the man who was obviously the leader of the trio.

“There’s a guy waiting the truck for me,” Arthur admitted. He didn’t want David getting involved but it would be even worse if he got shot because Arthur had lied to some trigger happy gunmen. “He’s not involved in this, he’s just there in case you boys decide that I’d be better off dead,” Arthur bluffed. He had never been to deal where the dealers were this cautious, or this well armed. Arthur was starting to wish that he had told David about the Tommy gun under the passenger seat, he was sitting right over it but Arthur doubted David would look.

“You park the truck like you were told?” asked the leader of the group. The other two didn’t look like much the talking type, and they were holding their guns too casually for Arthurs comfort. The leader didn’t look quite so much like the shoot first type but Arthur recognized his type too. He was the sort to order other people to do horrible things to people without a pang of conscience, he was the leader type, he was the same type as Arthur’s father.

“That’s right, your pay for this stuff is where we told you it’d be so you load this stuff up and we’ll be off.” The leader type’s face contorted for a second, anger? Arthur knew he had said something dangerous, it had never been part of their deal for the dealers to load the truck but it would have been a lot of work for just he and David, and it would have left them in a position where they could have been shot down easily. It was hard to carry a gun while carrying crates of hard liquor. Arthur was counting on that, he wasn’t going to try any funny business but it would get the gorillas to put down their guns. This was supposed to be a gentleman’s transaction and Arthur had thought that his father’s street reputation was still intact enough that people wouldn’t feel the need to bring muscle. Arthur decided that he really didn’t like the look of the leader type.

Arthur watched as the two muscle types loaded up the truck, the leader type did nothing and neither did Arthur. It would have been faster had Arthur and the other man joined in but both were too busy glaring at the other to turn their backs on each other. As for David, Arthur certainly didn’t want to make him an accomplice to such an extent. It wasn’t until the others sunk back into the corn field that Arthur even walked up to the cab to talk to David.

“Glad to see you back without a bullet in your back. I don’t know how to drive,” David commented. Arthur remembered his advice to David about getting away fast if anything happened and laughed. It wouldn’t have been funny had David been stranded in the middle of nowhere with an illegal load but now that the danger was past it was funny to think about.

“We’re going to get out of here, we need to get back to the city by dawn so no stops this time,” Arthur said, pulling himself into the cab. They pulled onto the road again. Arthur had no intention of turning on his headlights, not now that they had a cargo, it was better to go unnoticed.

“This has been fun,” David commented after a few minutes of silent driving. “I’m glad I came with.”

“It was also dangerous, still is,” Arthur corrected. “We aren’t safe yet.”

“I don’t care, I need some adventure in my life every once in a while and there’s no such thing as adventure without danger.” Arthur thought about this but couldn’t think of anything in reply so they just kept driving.

It was around one in the morning that another car, also without headlights, pulled onto the road next to them. It was only Arthur’s quick reflexes and instant suspicion that saved both him and David as the guns went off at them from the car. Arthur peered over the steering wheel and decided that shedding some light on the attackers was more important then secrecy.

“Keep your head down as you can,” Arthur ordered David, switching on his headlights. He slowed the truck so that the car, not expecting the reduction in speed, went past them. In the headlights Arthur caught a glimpse of the leader type and his goons. Apparently they hadn’t been satisfied with getting their money. No wonder his father’s boys had been having some problems with the deliveries, not one of them had realized it was the people they had just bought from, or if they had realized they hadn’t been the ones to live to tell about it.

“Hold on,” Arthur shouted, though whether it was to David or himself he wasn’t sure. He forced the truck off of the road and through a pasture as the car slowed down to take another shot at them. Their windows were already shattered and Arthur realized in a dazed way that his arm was bleeding from a piece of glass.

“Does this always happen?” David asked, he seemed to have pressed himself to the floorboards, which was something for Arthur to be grateful for. At least David wasn’t about to be hit by a stray bullet. “By the way, is this a Tommy gun that’s digging into my ribs?”

To be continued...

Rum Running II

“It isn’t like I never get out,” Arthur protested. He was starting to wonder if everything that David did was definite, he always spoke in a tone of total authority.

“From what I hear that’s business, not fun. You have to have fun sometimes,” David said. Arthur stared at him.

“What do you mean from what you’ve heard?” Arthur asked suspiciously. Was this a set up by another family, was David about to pull out a gun. Arthur was starting to wonder if he had been wise to turn down the bodyguard after all.

“The whole college knows who your father is, not matter how hard you try to hide it,” David said shrugging. “Why do you think everyone keeps away from you? I hear you have a part in the family business these days, though you’ve never been caught. That’s what they’re saying anyway. I won’t ask you if it’s true, that’s your business.”

“So why are you being so friendly with me if everyone is scared of me?” Arthur asked. If everyone knew who his father was he would expect them to be scared, which made David’s friendly behavior even more confusing. He had heard of people getting close to gangsters and stuff because they wanted favors and he was starting to wonder if David was one of this sort.

“You don’t seem to have a Tommy gun stuck under your coat,” David said, grinning. “And if you have a revolver it isn’t pointed at me at the moment.” Arthur still looked at David in amazement; he was treating the whole thing like it was a joke, his whole lifestyle.

“I’ve had people gun for me before, I have a scar on my side when I got grazed by a knife, for all you know just sitting here you could get caught in the crossfire,” Arthur said. David’s attitude about Arthur’s life made Arthur want to convince him that what he was doing was truly dangerous.

“I don’t mind,” was all David said, and he smiled so charmingly that Arthur didn’t argue anymore, even though he still felt he should. They didn’t talk about what Arthur was for the rest of the evening; instead they spent hours in the café talking about nothing in particular. Arthur became very found of David in the course of that one evening, he treated every subject with the casualness that he had treated Arthur’s work. Finally it got late enough that Arthur realized that everyone at the hotel was probably looking for him and he stood up.

“They probably have decided I’ve been kidnapped or knocked off or something by now, I better go,” Arthur said. A few hours he would have never made a joke about being knocked off to someone from school, but he was starting to forget that David wasn’t really part of his world.

“I’m telling you Arthur, living alone is so much nicer. No one ever has a fit if you stay out until dawn,” David told him, standing and shaking hands with him. “Stop by my place sometime, we’ll have a great time.”

“I’d invite you over to my place but I don’t know if you’d like it,” Arthur said sheepishly. “It’s not so great.”

“That big hotel you’re father’s set up in? I wouldn’t think it’d be so bad. At least you don’t have to make your own bed.”

“I was talking more about the company, but I really should go.” Arthur hurried out the door before he could say anything else. He hadn’t let his guard down for years and he was starting to feel very vulnerable.

No one commented that Arthur had been out far past his usual time. He was careful to not say anything about what he had been up to; he had a reputation to maintain. Arthur saw to it that he was the center of attention at one of the clubs his father owned, chased off a guy who was making eyes at his half sister, and saw to it that the booze wouldn’t run out. All in all it was a normal night, and well past one in the morning when he finally turned in.

In spite of telling himself all that night that he wasn’t going to get involved with David anymore, Arthur found he couldn’t help himself. His double life became more and more obvious as he kept it up, it got to the point where Arthur didn’t start wondering if he was really living in only one world. Morning and night he would do whatever dirty work his father needed, look after the clubs, shoot up a joint, anything his father didn’t trust the grunts to do right. In the afternoons though Arthur kept going to classes and started stopping at David’s apartment or going out to coffee with him. They could talk about anything Arthur discovered, David never made a moral censure about anything that Arthur told him. After their first meeting Arthur had been afraid that David was a connection from some other mob, or the cops, but as he slowly opened up not one of their jobs had been messed with so he figured David kept his mouth shut.

Several months after the start of his friendship with David Arthur was stretched out on his bed when he heard a commotion coming from the floor below. He grabbed a revolver from next to his bed and headed down to investigate. To his total and utter amazement he found David struggling with a couple of the boys from his father’s gang.

“Hey, cut it, I know this guy,” Arthur said, shoving his gun into his jacket pocket. “He’s my guest, and I don’t like to see my guests roughed up by you boys unless I tell you to, got it?” The men instantly let David go and looked as sheepish as their sort ever did. Messing up wasn’t popular, or likely to lead to a long life where the gang was concerned and Arthur held a lot of power. Their leader did point out that Arthur hadn’t told them he was expecting company but he looked properly ashamed for the comment when Arthur glared at him so he let it go.

“What do you think you’re wandering into?” Arthur demanded of David once they were safe in his room. “They could’ve shot you and not thought about it.”

“They didn’t though,” David said shrugging. “I was bored so I figured I’d drop by. It isn’t like the whole town doesn’t know where you and your group can be found.”

“Which is why most sane people keep away,” Arthur said, now up to ranting speed. With the sight of David he was starting to go back into the face he showed at school, the face where he had to dislike gangsters and mobs. “Do you like the idea of a bullet in your head? You march in here without an invitation and you expect them to welcome you with open arms. If I hadn’t come down they’d have probably decided you were a hit man from another gang and you just shrug at me.”

“Well I didn’t die and that’s what matters. So what are you doing tonight?”

“I have a job to do,” Arthur said, giving David a sideways look.

“I see, so you’re going to be out and about while I sit in my apartment, looking at the wallpaper for entertainment. I’d rather you took me with you.”

“Now I know you’re crazy,” Arthur said, for once as firmly as David usually was. “This isn’t a kiddy game; it’s not like in the radio stories.”

“I’d hope not, in the radio stories the gangsters always end up either dead or in jail,” David said grinning. It was nothing to grin about for Arthur; it was a little too close to the truth to be a laughing matter.

“You don’t even know what I’m going to be doing tonight, or how many of the guys are going to be with me. If it’s a bunch of my dad’s toughs do you really think they’ll like one of my college friends riding around as a potential witness? This isn’t a business where tourists are welcome.”

“The only reason I don’t know is because you haven’t told me. So long as I’m not the one holding the gun I don’t care what we’re doing.”

“This isn’t a we business, this is a me business. You have no part of it. Even if you’re not holding the gun, you’d still be an accomplice. For me it’s fine, hung for a sheep or a lamb, it’ll happen either way one of these days.”

“So does the job involve shooting tonight?” David asked calmly.

“I hope not, though you never know, thing happen.”

“And will a bunch of your father’s toughs be with you?” David persisted. Arthur knew that he should lie but looking at David he started to get the feeling David would know if he did.

“No, it’s just me alone,” Arthur admitted. “They’ve been having some trouble with transporting some stuff, so father is sending me.”

“Then you can take me with you and so long as we don’t get caught, no harm done. If it makes you feel better if we do get caught I can tell them that you kidnapped me,” as usual David was treating the whole like a joke. It was like he had no problem at all knowing that his friend was a known gun man who had been taken in for questioning several times by the police, even if they had never pinned anything on him.

“So you’d have them stick me in the big house for a longer time then they would just for running hooch?” Arthur demanded, though now he was smiling for the first time since they started talking.

“Is that what the job is?” David asked. “I wouldn’t mind a car ride, let’s go.”

“I still don’t think that father’s boys will like it if I take on a passenger, I don’t think father will like it for that matter,” Arthur said, still doubtful.

“So don’t let them see you pick me up. I’ll wait around the corner for you,” David suggested.

“Not this corner, too many of father’s boys around here,” Arthur said, getting swept into his friend’s wild ideas.

“Alright, the corner of Elm and Maple then,” David suggested. That’s close enough that I could walk there but far enough away that nobody that matters will see.” Arthur was forced to admit that Elm and Maple would work. They killed a little time, until Arthur announced loudly that he really had to be going, and David made a show of parting.

“Who’s that?” demanded his father’s second in command when Arthur walked out after David had left.

“A guy from school, don’t worry I told him not to come around anymore. He’s not talkative if that’s what you’re worried about, and didn’t see nothing if he was. He’s not smart enough to hurt us any.”

“If you say so,” the man said doubtfully. “Seems dangerous to have someone like that inviting himself but I guess you know your business.”

“Yeah, and you’d better keep out of it,” Arthur snapped. The man might have been his father’s second in command but as his father’s son Arthur was still higher up on the ladder. It never hurt to remind people of his power every once in a while.

When he worked in the parts of his father’s clubs that had gambling Arthur saw a lot of sons of rich and influential families go in and out. They were usually considered embarrassments to their families, some of them were even disowned, but most of them looked like they were enjoying every moment of it. They were rebelling against their families and society, and it gave the young men who went through their gambling rooms a sort of fraternity. It was a fraternity that Arthur had never been a part of, what could the son of a gangster do to rebel? He could have joined the police force or hired as a detective but he had no interest in either profession so in the end he had done exactly what his father wanted him to do. Therefore it was a feeling of unfamiliar disobedience that Arthur stopped to pick up David on Elm and Maple.

“So where are we off too?” David asked, once they were outside of the city limits.

“Up north, there are still some breweries running, underground operations. They make the best whiskey available since the prohibition.”

“I didn’t know there were still breweries working,” David commented and Arthur smiled at his friend’s innocence.

“A lot of bribes and crooked politicians see they stay in operation and don’t get raided, not too often anyway. We don’t have to worry so much about the cops as we do about the competition. They’ve been gunning at our boys recently when they’ve gone to make the runs so dad sent me, try to get a look at who’s messing with us at least. They’ve stolen a couple of our shipments and you don’t do that if you want to stay healthy.”

“Like I said, so long as I’m not the one holding the gun I don’t care.”

“You could still get shot,” Arthur pointed out, starting to second guess bringing his friend again. It was too late now to turn around and put him back in city limits though. Arthur had a strict schedule to keep and turning around would through it off. It was a long trip and he wanted them both to be back in time to go to classes Monday morning.

At noon, after a night of driving, they pulled off of the road and found a shop that sold sandwiches and coffee. David had slept in the seat next to Arthur while he drove so he was in a much more cheerful mood then Arthur was. It turned out that David had never been on a long car trip before and he was treating the whole thing like it was a holiday. Arthur finally suggested that David get out and explore the town so that he could stretch out on the truck’s seat and sleep for a few hours. Since they had no cargo secrecy was no matter but later they wouldn’t have the chance to pull over to the side like this. Arthur would need all of the sleep he could get.

With a bundle of sandwiches for later meals Arthur and David got started on the road again. Now that they were both rested even Arthur started to forget that this was a business trip, it was the most fun he had had for a long time. David handed him a bottle of ice cold cola that he had bought while around town, a prohibition drink if Arthur had ever seen one, but he wasn’t in the mood to complain. He was all the more comfortable with David because he wasn’t a part of the illegal world he belonged to, and the last thing he wanted to do was encourage David to head toward illegal tastes. It was a relief to see David drink such a harmless beverage even when he knew that Arthur could provide something less legal.

To be continued...

Rum Running

Arthur and a couple of men, lent from his father, could see where a couple of guys from the Fallow gang were sitting in a drugstore across the street. They were sitting in a car, parked illegally in front of a fire hydrant but that was chump change compared to the crime they were about to commit. They were working on his father’s orders this time, which made him feel better, this wasn’t a personal vendetta, this was family business. Family business gave him security because it meant that if people gunned for him after this his family would protect him. The Fallow gang had made the mistake of diverting one of their shipments for use in a Fallow speakeasy, and Arthur’s father had ordered something done about it.

At a motion of Arthur’s hand the gunfire started and the drugstore windows shattered in a million pieces of glass. At Arthur’s word the guns stopped and their driver stepped on it. Their car wasn’t marked so it shouldn’t be traceable but the driver still took a round about way back home. Home, in this case, being a hotel where the staff knew enough not to ask questions, it was a common enough situation in mobs.

Arthur ran up the steps and found his way to his father’s suite of rooms. His father liked to get reports right away and while Arthur was his son he wasn’t immune to his father’s anger. The only thing you could say was that he wasn’t in danger of being knocked off if he messed up, that wouldn’t stop his father from yelling at him and booting him down the stairs. Arthur knocked on his father’s door and walked into the beautiful office his father ran everything from.

“We took care of your errand,” Arthur told his father. The only other person in the room was his half brother Mick, sitting sullen in a chair in the corner, but Arthur still didn’t like to speak in plain terms. You never knew who was listening. If the other two wanted to that was their business but Arthur wasn’t going to admit to anything.

“You finished it clean?” his father’s voice was sharp. Arthur nodded, his father didn’t trust anyone. That went for Arthur even, though he trusted Arthur more then most. Arthur was the most likely to inherit his father’s crime kingdom out of the children, for various reasons. None of them were legitimate, so that wasn’t a consideration, mostly they were judged for their records while working for their father, as well as their mothers. Mick had never actually done anything wrong but his mother had tried to betray their father to the cops when their father had lost interest in her. It wasn’t Mick’s fault but their father never really trusted him because of it. So it was that Mick, who was the eldest, didn’t stand on good odds for inheriting any of their father’s mob, while Arthur, the second oldest, seemed the most likely.

“Is there anything else you want me to do?” Arthur asked.

“No, you can go on. You got school don’t you?” his father asked.

“Yeah, I’ll go then.” Arthur went to the city college, under a different last name, in the hopes that people wouldn’t ask him about his father. It was the one place that he could pretend to be a normal guy. It was for the family business just like everything he did was but it was one of the more pleasant parts of it. He was studying as an accountant so he could keep his father’s books. It was all on his father’s orders; his father wanted someone in the family to be the one in control of the money. He said that too many mob bosses got betrayed by the people who kept the books. Arthur didn’t mind, it would keep him from street work, guns weren’t his thing. He didn’t dislike them but the frontlines were a good way to get yourself killed and it seemed too much like doing the work of one of the disposable underlings.

After the smell of guns and the thrill of speed as we had driven away from the drugstore Arthur had trouble paying attention to his classes. The hypocrisy of his life usually didn’t bother him; usually he was able to keep his two worlds separate. He had noticed before however that it was more difficult when he had done something exciting and adrenalin was coursing through his vanes. He would have thought that after a couple of years being a gun for his father he would stop feeling excited after every job but the danger was still real and so his body still reacted to it.

After classes Arthur gathered up his notes and looked them over, most of them didn’t make any sense. He might as well have skipped class. His father wouldn’t have been happy, if he had found out, but he wouldn’t. A lot of the time Arthur had some sort of bodyguard to go around with him but not when he was in school. He had put his foot down about that. If he died while in class that was that, but he wasn’t going to announce to the entire college that he was his father’s son. No body guard also meant that he could do what ever he wanted without it getting reported to his father, which made his time in school the most private time he ever had.

“Did you get the notes?” Arthur heard a voice behind him ask. He turned and found himself looking at the young man, about his age, who sat right behind him in the auditorium. “I swear that the professor drones on so much I just can’t keep my mind on his lectures. I think I stopped taking notes about halfway.”

“Here,” Arthur said, handing over his notes. He watched as the man shuffled through them.

“Do you have any idea what they’re talking about?” the man asked after a little while.

“No,” Arthur admitted with a grin. The man grinned back.

“Well, I’ll copy them anyway and try to figure then out later. They probably have something to do with the book; I’m not sure what though. I’m David by the way,” the man stuck his hand out and Arthur shook it.

“Arthur,” he introduced himself.

“Well Arthur, since you let me copy your notes how about I treat you to a cup of coffee?” Arthur stared at David in amazement, he had never known anyone so forcefully friendly before and he wasn’t sure if he trusted it. In his family trust wasn’t cultivated, it was squashed out as not being something that led to survival.

“That’s alright,” Arthur said shrugging, trying to turn him down politely. “You don’t have to pay me back; it isn’t causing me any trouble.”

“I insist, I always pay people back, I don’t like to owe favors,” David told Arthur firmly.

They were firmly installed in a booth at a café near the college when Arthur finally talked again. He still wasn’t really sure how he had gotten there, it wasn’t like he was a pushover and he had had no intention of going with David. Somehow he had ended up caving in to David anyway; David was a force to be reckoned with through pure strength of personality obviously.

“This is the first time I haven’t gone straight home after classes since I was in grade school,” Arthur commented, though he didn’t tell David the reason.

“Well then it’s high time you got out. It isn’t healthy to be cooped up with the same people all the time,” David said firmly.

To be continued...

Ms. Reynolds Dilemma II

Sam was found in the official building that had been set aside as a police department for the city. It was a volunteer police department of course, this being Ferndale, but it had been decided that they deserved their own building. The people who broke the few laws Ferndale had were kept here, and trials were now held in the building rather then the Town Hall. Sam’s real title was General, not the chief of police, but wars were far and few between. Ferndale didn’t have a standing army so there was no need for Sam in his capacity as General. Because he wasn’t always needed in the military Ferndale had made him in charge of the police force as well, so he was employed full time. Sam was paid through donations from citizens which seemed a lot like bribery to Ms. Reynolds but Sam had so far not allowed it to affect his judgment, so far as she knew.

“Hello Ms. Reynolds,” Sam said in his usual quiet voice. He had a stutter still but it wasn’t as bad as it had been, even back when Ms. Reynolds had first come to the city. The doctor had been working with Sam and whatever it was he had been doing seemed to work.

“Hello Sam, had any trouble? I’ve heard some people getting noisy about gaining independence again,” Ms. Reynolds got straight to the point. That train of conversation had worked on the rulers so she figured it would work on Sam as well.

“Nothing against the law yet,” Sam told her. Ms. Reynolds sat on the other side of the desk.

“What do you think of the whole independence movement yourself?” Ms. Reynolds asked and watched as Sam put his thoughts together. He wasn’t the sort of person to talk without thinking; he wasn’t the sort to do anything without thinking for that matter. He managed to outsmart his opponents both as police chief and general, which was good because he had no physical strength to speak of.

“I think we lack the strength to defend ourselves from the underground cities if they don’t like it when we declare independence. It is dangerous to assume that they will take our announcement peacefully and we aren’t prepared for war on that scale.”

“What if something forced your hand, to make a decision, like if you were told that everyone in the school had to leave? Would you leave?” Sam gave her a very pointed look, Ms. Reynolds knew he was smart, he knew she was fishing for something. Of course he didn’t have the knowledge to know what she was fishing for but that didn’t change that he was suspicious. He gave her an answer anyway though.

“If everyone else left I would leave, I won’t be here by myself.”

“And if everyone else stayed?” Ms. Reynolds asked, though she knew the answer already.

“I would stay; this city will always need a General, and the law. I said I would serve as both and I will until I stop doing a good job, and then I will quit.” Ms. Reynolds nodded. Sam wasn’t an unreasonable person but he was still loyal to Ferndale, just like all of the leaders, there wasn’t one of the leaders who didn’t put the city before themselves. Ms. Reynolds was letting it sink home that this loyalty would lead them to plunge into war to allow the city to continue. Still, there was John left to talk to, he might be Tom’s underling but he was still politically strong and therefore mattered in her survey.

John was at home, he wasn’t working, there was nothing for him to do while in Ferndale. Ferndale was where the spies rested or waited for orders in between jobs. Ms. Reynolds found John with Kerma’s cat attached to his hand, with its teeth; Kerma’s cat was infamously vicious.

“It came over looking for food and it decided that my hand looked tasty. Help me get it off will you? I don’t want to hurt it,” John said, shaking his hand gently in an attempt to loosen the feline. Ms. Reynolds had no love for the cat and didn’t see why hurting it a little would be such a bad thing if it would stop it from savaging people but she gently pried it off of John’s hand anyway.

“He drew blood,” John complained, searching a draw for a bandage. “There’s a slice of meat in the icebox that is starting to go bad, you can feed him that.”

“You’re going to feed it after it bit you?” Ms. Reynolds asked in amazement. If it was her she would have booted it from her house instantly, and banned it permanently from the premises.

“I always feed it,” John said shrugging. “So what were you visiting for?”

“I was just thinking, since you’re a spy, have you heard anything about the local independence from the school movement? They seem to be getting excited again and I’m worried about trouble.”

“We don’t spy on our own city,” John snapped. That wasn’t entirely true but they couldn’t let it get around or the spies knew they would be outcasts in their own city. No one liked dealing with a spy when they knew they were among the ones being spied on.

“I wasn’t accusing, I was just saying that you more connected to people here in the city then I am, they don’t talk to me easily. The spies are popular so I thought maybe people had said something to you,” Ms. Reynolds said, quickly reassuring to him.

“Well I haven’t, not anything that hasn’t be around since before you came here. Been what, two years now?” John asked, as if he was only just realizing how long it had been.

“About,” Ms. Reynolds admitted. “So you haven’t heard anything? What do you think? Are you on the side of Ferndale leaving the school to be an independent city?”

“Not something I want to talk about with a school official, no offense Ms. Reynolds. You’re nice and all but I don’t want to talk about anything that could get me in big trouble if it came to the wrong ears.”

“So you wouldn’t commit to a side, no matter what? Is that what you are saying? Even in an extreme situation?”

“What kind of extreme situation are we talking about here?” John asked. John wasn’t one of the more cautious spies but not one spy would willingly admit to anything that could be considered condemning at a future date. Not to an official anyway, though the bar was often filled with stories of their exploits.

“What if the school was shut down and everyone was asked to leave? What would you do then?”

“It hasn’t happened yet,” John said carefully but Ms. Reynolds could tell by his face that he wasn’t telling the truth. He would fight if anyone tried to take him from Ferndale and that wasn’t a good thing. If John would fight then so would the rest of the spies and if the spies fought then the underground army might have a very hard time. Of course that was assuming that the underground cities would attack them if they disobeyed orders, but the underground cities usually attacked first and asked questions later.

Ms. Reynolds left John’s house and headed back home, she figured she’d asked enough people to know the general feeling of the city and it wasn’t what she had hoped. She had hoped that maybe they would say that they would go along with the underground cities, that they wouldn’t fight against their parents and cousins who lived there. Instead every leader had given off the feeling that if it came to it they would be willing to fight to the death. That left a new doubt in her mind, she could either tell them to go back to the underground cities and fight and possibly die for them. It was either that or she could let them declare independence and run the risk that they would be attacked for declaring their freedom. That would lead to their fighting and dying as well. Either way things looked bad.

When she got back to her house she was shocked to find Tom there. She had been positive that he was out of town but of course he came and went as he liked. He didn’t often visit her though, especially not as one of his first visits when he was back in town. They hadn’t started out on the right foot and while things had mended between them slightly he had still made it very clear that she was to keep out of his business. He didn’t say anything while she opened the door but as soon as she had it open he slipped in without waiting for her invitation. Then he looked expectantly at the door until she closed it.

“I suppose you got a letter from the school too, saying they are shutting down the school,” he said right off.

“How do you know about that?” Ms. Reynolds demanded. She should have known better then to ask.

“Found the letter on the desk of one of the teachers in Pleasant Valley. He was dead drunk and who can blame him when he’s in charge of a city run by bandits. It made it very easy to look through his papers though. I supposed that all of the teachers got a copy of the letter and that means you as well.”

“I got a letter, probably the same one you saw,” Ms. Reynolds admitted.

“Have you told anyone about it?” Tom demanded.

“No one except the doctor, why?”

“I don’t want you to tell them, the school probably won’t remember we exist so there’s no reason to bother them, got it?” there was a note of threat in Tom’s voice.

“Aren’t you making a dangerous decision? They could attack if you don’t evacuate.”

“It’s better then you trying to make a decision about it, I bet you were too. This isn’t any of your business alright? You leave this to the people who are actually in charge of this city,” Tom said, Ms. Reynolds guessed she had thought that their relationship had healed more then it had.

“That would be Frendral and Kerma and I don’t see them here,” Ms. Reynolds told Tom, just as angry with him for his arrogance. “It’s a letter I got and who I share it with is my business.”

“Just leave it be, please,” Tom said, changing his tone suddenly. “It’s our decision to make, let us decide our fate.” When he put it like that, Ms. Reynolds no longer had a choice.

Ms, Reynolds Dilemma

Ms. Reynolds wasn’t actually one of the leaders of Ferndale; not officially, she left that to Frendral and Kerma. Ms. Reynolds was one of the teachers of the school who had been sent to take over control of Ferndale when the adult control over the school had been tightened. It hadn’t been recommended that they allow the children to continue to govern themselves; after all they had gotten into all sorts of trouble on their own, even war, though a bloodless one. Ms. Reynolds had quickly decided that it would be an unwise decision to try to gain control over Ferndale, they weren’t like the other cities, they would be likely to throw her out if she tried even though she was a government official. They were the only city of the school that firmly believed that they were a true city, not just a part of a school; they saw no reason to listen to the teachers.

Just because she had decided not to take over the governing of the city didn’t mean that she wasn’t involved in the working of Ferndale still. Frendral and Kerma both would admit, if really pressed, that an adult brought a new and useful prospective to the running of the city. She wasn’t allowed to take over but she was allowed to help. She was just as impressed with the children under her charge as they were with her; modern theory said that children weren’t able to make informed decisions until they were at least twenty-five. Ms. Reynolds was starting to question that theory while observing the teenagers around her, children could come up with some very ingenious things when it became necessity.

Ms. Reynolds wasn’t the only adult in the city; there were farmers, a doctor, and family of the students, who had all joined the bustle of the streets. Ms. Reynolds was the only one of them however who had gained any amount of power; the children guarded their power jealously and made it very clear to any visitors that they didn’t like being interfered with by outsiders.

Now Ms. Reynolds found herself torn, she had received a letter by the mail and she was sure that the doctor had gotten one just like it. The school was being closed and her employers wanted to recall her while they evacuated the school. Ms. Reynolds had worked hard on the school, not as hard as the children, but she had still invested a couple of years now in Ferndale’s future. After her hard work Ms. Reynolds wasn’t happy with the order to just give up everything and leave because the underground cities were about to start another war and wanted the man power of the children in the school. The desert might be harsh but not as harsh a battlefield and the thought of the children she had grown to love marching into war gave her a chill. On the other hand she was a member of the government, a teacher of their school, and she had promised to follow orders when she had joined the army. She had already disobeyed them many times but not in anything that they would care about, they would care a lot if she didn’t provide the troops she was supposed to. There was a knock on the door and Ms. Reynolds went to answer it.

“Did you get, oh I see you did,” the doctor said, walking in and noticing the paper on her table in mid question.

“What do you think?” Ms. Reynolds asked. The doctor was less attached to the school then she was and might make a less emotion based decision.

“I think we have a choice to make, treason to the students or treason to the school,” the doctor said. “I had heard from my cousin, the one in the army, that this might happen but I had dismissed it. I never though it would actually happen.”

“Do we tell the students that they’re going to have to leave the school in a few months? You know that their reaction will be even if we do tell them. They will never leave this city. Too much has gone into it.”

“We live in a city of peaceful people who have no experience of bloodshed, it would be slaughter to send them to the army anyway,” the doctor added. “They haven’t been raised in the underground cities, surrounded by constant war. The school has sheltered them and they are too soft to send to the slaughter now,” the doctor added and Ms. Reynolds knew he didn’t want to see children he knew die either. There were soldiers as young as twelve in the underground armies but somehow the fifteen and sixteen year olds around them seemed too young yet.

“Sam might be useful in a real army, he’s a great tactician,” Ms. Reynolds said, grasping for straws that wouldn’t have them betray their employers.

“He would never survive training, he is weak and the officers would make him miserable because of his stutter. Sam makes a good officer in an army like here in the school because he doesn’t have to be a basic soldier first,” the doctor said dismissively.

“What about Frendral? He’s vicious enough to do well in the army,” Ms. Reynolds asked.

“He’s too used to being the one in charge, I don’t know if anyone has given him orders since he came to the school. The minute someone ordered Frendral to do something menial he would try to kill them. Not a good idea.”

“Larlarn?” asked Ms. Reynolds with desperation.

“We were talking about people who didn’t take orders well, she’s worse then Frendral, and ruder about it.” Ms. Reynolds had a mental image of the surely spy who was always fighting with her boss Tom and had to agree.

“So they would be horrible in the army, they probably wouldn’t survive, but it’s still a big move to decide not to listen to a government order. We have been ordered to tell our students they have to leave the school in a few months.”

“We could decide they will find out about it by themselves so we don’t have to,” the doctor suggested. It was obvious he was at his wits end as well. “They have the spies after all, who will find out about the evacuation of the school soon enough.”

“Dodging responsibility,” Ms. Reynolds said dismissively.

“Well what ever you decide I’ll go along with, take your time and decide, don’t rush anything,” the doctor said, clapping her on the back and heading for the door.

“You’re leaving this all in my hands,” wailed Ms. Reynolds.

“You are technically my boss,” the doctor said with a shrug. “It’s your call.”

“Only when it’s convenient for you,” Ms. Reynolds complained but she didn’t stop the doctor from leaving. He was a busy man, the only man with medical knowledge in all of Ferndale, and the citizens of Ferndale were accident prone. They worked with axes, they explored, they climbed, they dealt with animals, hunted, and all of those activities could result in horrible injuries when something went wrong. Ms. Reynolds had heard that very few people had died before the doctor had arrived, though there were plenty of people with scars or limps, but she couldn’t imagine how they had managed without someone to take care of them.

After a few hours of pacing around her living room Ms. Reynolds decided that she wasn’t getting anywhere. She had been trying to decide what her students would do if she told them the news and what they would do if she didn’t and waited for them to find out on their own. The problem was it was all speculation; she had nothing to back up any of her theories. The only way that she would know for sure was if it happened, or of course if she asked them though she would have to be subtle about it. At least then she could make an educated decision.

The first people Ms. Reynolds found who were in positions to answer her questions realistically were Frendral and Kerma. Everyone knew the two of them were dating, even though they themselves denied it hotly. It was obvious that the rulers thought that it would damage their authority if people thought that they were human, human enough to date for instance. Ms. Reynolds had once saw the couple kiss, in an alley where they had thought no one was watching, but she hadn’t said anything. She didn’t think it was very smart of Ferndale and Kerma to date for reasons other then political. The first reason she thought it was a bad idea was because Kerma was two years younger then Frendral, and that was a big age difference in teenagers, though not if they had been older. The second problem was that if they then broke up they would still have to rule together which would be potentially very awkward. Ms. Reynolds couldn’t see anyway to tell them her feelings on the matter however; neither would like it if she cut into their personal affairs. It wasn’t her place.

“I’ve been hearing some people talk about breaking off from the school again,” Ms. Reynolds told them when they had exchanged greetings. A roundabout approach was better she had decided, rather then getting straight to the point.

“People talk, it doesn’t mean anything,” Frendral said dismissively.

“Kerma told me when we first met that she thought that Ferndale should be independent from the school, I haven’t heard you say anything about it Frendral,” Ms. Reynolds said. If the mood of the rulers was that they shouldn’t be a part of the school she figured there was a good chance that they would break off if when the school was closed down. It was as good a line of questioning as any.

“We’re not part of the school,” Frendral said shortly and Ms. Reynolds knew what he meant. Ferndale was so far separated and contained people so much older then the rest of the school that it was completely different. That wouldn’t make a difference to the underground cities though, as desperate as they were for troops for this new war. A war Ms. Reynolds had to admit, Ferndale had nothing to do with. She was appalled to find that she was thinking more and more like someone who lived in Ferndale, she was supposed to be separate from the city, an outside advisor, not a citizen.

“What if you were told that you had to leave Ferndale, by the school or something,” Ms. Reynolds asked, finally getting to the point. She figured that she had led up to it enough that it was a natural question to ask, with the way the conversation had been going.

“Well I’d say we should ignore them, half of the time they don’t even know if we exist,” Kerma laughed scornfully. “They probably wouldn’t even remember us.”

“If they did, declare independence,” Frendral added, giving voice to Ms. Reynolds worst fears. If they declared independence the underground cities wouldn’t let it go, there would be a war. She walked away from the rulers in deep thought; of course they weren’t the city’s only leaders and if they were out voted they might change their minds. Tom was out of town but there was Sam she could ask, and John, Tom’s second in command.

To be continued...

Rasheika's Trial III

“Rasheika, you are accused of breaking your parole and trying, yet again, to take over the world,” Kerma announced, sounding more exasperated then condemning.

“It wasn’t my goal to take over the world this time, I was just playing, it’s just you fools don’t know the difference,” Rasheika said. “Then you go and bring these complete morons in to judge me guilty and call it a fair trial.” Tom, barely, managed to resist the urge to beat his head on something. Court had been in session for all of three seconds and Rasheika had already made a mockery of it, and called the jury morons. This was going to be a bad day, he could already tell, even worse then he had thought it was going to be.

“Do we have a charge of contempt of court like they do below ground?” Kerma asked Frendral.

“I wish,” he replied, glaring at Tom rather then Rasheika. Tom wilted, he knew he was supposed to keep Rasheika in check and he had failed, but it was so hard. He never knew what to expect from Rasheika, she was very smart and everyone knew it, so he was always taken by surprise when she burned all of her bridges on purpose. It wasn’t usually something a smart person would do. The conclusion that he usually drew from such behavior was that she was insane; something that all the evidence was in favor of, though a very special and dangerous type of insanity it had to be.

“How about you shut your mouth before the mob shuts it for you?” Tom hissed to Rasheika, looking at a now even more hostile court.

“I can’t shut my mouth if I’m supposed to be telling them how guilty I am, stupid,” Rasheika told him back, in a normal voice. “You can’t talk for me all the time.”

“I wish I could,” Tom said sincerely, something that only seemed to amuse her.

“Rasheika, you will speak with respect,” Frendral ordered. “Continue.”

“I did everything you listed except try to take over the world,” Rasheika said. Frendral’s tone of voice had warned her that she truly was treading on thin ground and he had been known to hang people from the ceiling by their wrists for days, back when he was a bandit.

“So that would be a plead of guilty. John you can question her,” Kerma said.

“What for?” Rasheika demanded. “I said I did it, what else do you need to know?”

“You’re not in charge here,” Frendral snapped.

“We need to know the details of what happened so we know what to do with you,” Kerma explained more reasonably. Rasheika was still her friend, in spite of everything.

“In front of all of these fools,” Rasheika said, motioning at the audience and the jurors. “You’ll make me blush. It’ll be bragging to talk about my genius in front of the crowd.”

“Sometimes I hate you Rasheika,” Tom told her, this time loud enough for the whole court to hear, he didn’t care anymore. If Rasheika was going to commit verbal suicide he wanted nothing to do with it. She was sounding less repentant of her crimes by the second and that wasn’t going to win over anyone in the jury.

“Anyway,” said John awkwardly, painfully aware that he was on the other side as his boss for the first time ever. “Rasheika, you were aware that you were violating your parole?”

“Of course I knew that. You buffoons tell me the conditions of my parole every five minutes; I couldn’t not know them by now.”

“So you knew you were committing a crime. How did you gain power over the people who you recruited to join you?” John continued his line of questioning. Tom shook his head, as John’s boss he wanted to tell John that that would never work but he couldn’t in this situation. John would just have to learn that Rasheika would never talk about any of her methods.

“Well that’s a trade secret isn’t it?” Rasheika said, smiling slightly. “Can’t tell everyone that or I would be out of business.”

“War isn’t a business,” Kerma moralized from the platform but Rasheika only smiled up at her.

“You are on trial, you don’t have the right to keep a secret from the court,” John told Rasheika.

“If you can make me tell what I did then you can know. Not that you idiots are vicious enough to make me say anything. Even try to talk to my old followers who were with me in The Mound, they won’t say anything either. Loyalty and fear, a fine combination,” Rasheika said. Not a single mind didn’t start speculating on what someone with a reputation like Rasheika’s would have done to make people fear here, the mental pictures weren’t pretty. Tom was the only one out of the group; he had been the first into The Mound when it had fallen, to know that this time Rasheika had inspired true loyalty from her troops. They had honestly tried to protect their leader, they weren’t the fear driven peasants that Rasheika was suggesting they were. Tom wondered if she wasn’t trying to protect them by making them out to be victims of her manipulation. He remembered the reprisals against the Abdico when Rasheika had last lost a war and wondered just how much those reprisals had actually hurt Rasheika. No one was ever killed in the school but it still hadn’t been pleasant, and it had driven one boy to commit suicide. Of course there had been a school investigation into the boy’s death and he had been written off in the end as being the victim of bullying, part of a long list of things that the school officials understated. The school officials could never understand that the school involved true politics.

“By stepping into this court you are promising to tell us the truth and give us the information we need in the hope of lessoning your sentence,” Kerma pointed out. “If you aren’t helpful you are bringing everything down on your head,” there was a pleading note in her voice.

“Go ahead,” Rasheika said, glaring all around her.

“Wait a minute before you listen to her,” Tom jumped in. “She says that she’s guilty, that she knows it and won’t help us with anything, that’s all pretty bad. However, I would like you to show me, in writing, where it was that Rasheika agreed not to get involved in politics again.”

“You were at the trial, that was the deal that you two made with Frendral, you were there,” Kerma said, clearly confused. Over in the other box John wasn’t so confused, Tom had trained him carefully and he instantly understood what his boss was getting at.

“Do you have any proof that that deal was made? Eyewitnesses are easy to buy and tell what to say. Do you have any document of this agreement you claim exists?” Frendral glared daggers at Tom but Tom had been glared at by the best and while Frendral was good, his skill was wasted in this case. Tom liked danger, it was one of the reasons he had created a job that was dangerous. The idea of dancing on a knife’s edge and besting his ruler was one that he enjoyed. Of course after this trial it might be a good idea to find himself something to do far away for a while Tom told himself.

“It was a verbal agreement, no paper in the town,” Frendral admitted, looking like he had eaten something that tasted bad. Tom had known that all too well, Frendral had wanted a paper agreement and had sent Tom all over town to look for paper, he hadn’t found any. Had Rasheika’s original trial been held in Ferndale things might have been very different in this trial but it had been held in one of the other cities. One of the mostly illiterate other cities of the school, Tom mentally added to himself gleefully.

“So what you are saying is that you’re trying Rasheika on something that you have no proof she even promised. If it isn’t actually a law, and I don’t remember seeing any law against being involved in politics or all three of us would be in trouble, you can’t punish her. I call for her to be set free on the grounds that she didn’t break a law.”

Frendral and Kerma knew that Tom was right; there was no way that they could hold Rasheika on the charge now that he had put it like that. Ferndale’s laws had been put together with no planning or thought behind them by a group of eleven year olds and no one was better at taking advantage of that then Tom. On the other hand the crowd in the courtroom wasn’t going to take this well, they very obviously didn’t care about the intricacies of the law so much as they wanted Rasheika to be punished.

“I regret Adrian,” Kerma felt a little better to see Tom wince at the use of his true name, “that you seem to be right. With no proof we can’t complain about her breaking the rules.” A storm of angry shouting poured across the courtroom, it looked like Rasheika was about to be lynched. John jumped across the railing of his box to join Tom in protecting Rasheika, leaving his unused witness in the box.

“I always get in trouble like this with you,” John told Tom.

“Don’t worry, I planed for this,” Tom reassured both John and Rasheika, though Rasheika didn’t look worried. The ceiling slats above them in the Town Hall were moved and a rope dropped. All three climbed up it, leaving Kerma shouting at them that they were going to pay for any damages they had done to the roof.

“A timely rescue,” Tom complimented Liz as she pulled the rope back up. He glanced down at the seething angry crowd, before he decided that that would probably just make them angrier.

“Let’s get out of here for a while; I hear some interesting things are happening in Pleasant Valley, something to do with bandits taking over. Should be watched just in case it becomes something permanent I would say. Want to join us Rasheika?” Tom added.

“Doesn’t seem safe here right now, I’m not one of your foolish puppies but it might be fun.” Both John and Liz looked mad at being called puppies but they all climbed down the outside of the building and snuck out of town before anyone caught on they were leaving.