Homeless – CHAPTER 14

Adult story: Homeless – CHAPTER 14

by senorlongo

I had one more thing to do to ensure Jennie’s safety and I took the first step on our drive home from the Wilmington airport, stopping at Walmart in Leland for a cheap burner phone. I’d use this phone for one and only one call that I made from the parking lot.

One of my early clients was a famous and notorious motorcycle club. Most people would consider it a gang, especially since almost all of their activities were strictly illegal. They needed a firewall for their website so they could conduct clandestine operations without the authorities knowing or hacking into the site. Somehow they got my name—I suspected at the time from one of my MIT classmates—at a time when I was desperate for money to launch my first “Idiot” program. They paid me $100,000 all in well-used tens and twenties. They were still using my firewall and I hadn’t read anything about the government hacking into their site.

I had a small device in one hand to alter my voice and the phone in the other when I dialed the first number. This one would bounce the signal all around the globe, making tracing the call absolutely impossible. Both parties knew their phones were tapped. Next I dialed their number.

(Yeah?)

“How’s your firewall doing?”

(Good. How can I help you?)

“I need a meeting.”

“Okay…same day, same time, same place. Okay?)

“Yes.”

(Click) The call ended, I took a socket wrench from my trunk and smashed the phone after first removing the SIM card. I’d throw that into the waterway as soon as we were home. A minute later I was back in the car with Jennie.

“What was that all about, Doug?”

“Just keeping my promise to ensure your safety; I have to take a short trip Thursday, but I should be home by Friday afternoon.”

“You won’t be in any danger will you?”

“No…I’ve dealt with these people before. I’ll be fine.” Jennie was quiet all the way home, but I could tell she was worried. I made a reservation to fly to Chattanooga, Tennessee on Thursday afternoon the next day. Once I had arrived I rented a car at Rent-A-Wreck, paying cash, and drove south on I-59 toward Lafayette, a small city in the northwest corner of Georgia where I stayed overnight, again paying cash.

At ten on Friday morning I was sitting on a picnic bench under a beautiful cherry tree in a park just in front of the Parks and Recreation office. I had a small portable radio playing on the table behind me while I fed the birds with some bread scraps left over from breakfast. I heard my contact’s bike long before I saw him.

He was certainly dressed for the part—high leather boots, leather jacket with patches on the back identifying his chapter of the infamous national organization. He spoke even before sitting. “What’s with the radio?”

“Besides the music it’s also broadcasting white noise which will make it almost impossible to eavesdrop on our conversation.” I was looking straight ahead, still feeding the birds, when I slid a small sheet of paper along the bench toward him. “Know anybody in the Iowa State Penitentiary?” He just nodded in response.

“I’d like for this guy to have a hard time, like an occasional beating—not enough to kill him, but enough to cause a world of hurt, maybe even enough to put him into a wheelchair.”

“What’s he to you?”

“My wife’s stepfather; he raped her for years when she was a kid. He was the county sheriff so she couldn’t even go to the cops. Her mother was no better.”

“You must know we hate child rapists…almost as much as we hate cops. Okay, what’s in it for us?”

“I have a new firewall, actually three that work together. One of the biggest brokerage houses in New York uses it. You can have it for nothing. Just don’t try to make any adjustments. I’ll send an email with instructions on how to get in—you know, the password. It’ll be a new one, but it will only work once. Whoever goes to the site first will set a new one. Just make sure it’s different from your old one. I’ll have it in place by Monday.” The discussion was over. He got up and walked away.

I knew he was way down in the hierarchy just as I knew we were thousands of miles away from their national headquarters in California. I’d met other underlings in this park eight times almost ten years ago. These guys were scum—trading in drugs hijacking, white slavery, and illegal importing of cigarettes and booze, but they served my purpose. Harper would be beaten on a regular basis and hopefully crippled. It probably would have happened anyway, but why take chances?

I was back home with my beloved Jennie six hours later. She kissed me like I had been gone for weeks instead of just overnight. We began our planning for Charlie and Toni’s visit. Jennie had spoken on the phone with Toni and her daughters, Andrea and Allison, at least once a week. I’d sent a set of detailed directions to our house. I’d also told Charlie to leave his wallet at home.

We stocked up on beer and wine and Coke, Sprite, and ginger ale, mostly for our bonus room fridg. Jennie also bought two twin size air beds as well as sheets, pillows, and blankets. Our plan was for the girls to stay in our bonus room, a large room over our three-car garage. Jennie and I used it as our video room. We had a 65-inch OLED curved screen TV up there along with a Hi-Res DVD player, DVR, and ten speaker surround sound. The walls rose up five feet before taking the slant of the roof above.

There were three skylights with internal venetian blinds that were activated by remote control. A small bathroom off to one side near the stairs and a refrigerator for snacks meant we could stay there for hours if need be. My favorite, though, was the off-white leather sectional that curved slightly—just enough to facilitate conversation and to enable everyone to see the screen clearly. Even better; four of the seats reclined.

It was just a few days before we expected them that I received a phone call from my mother. As planned, she’d had her husband served at the faculty senate meeting. Her lover, Paul, had told her that dear old Dad was livid and had disrupted the meeting with his ranting until the dean—God bless him—told him to “either shut up or get out.” I loved it!

The Blasi family rolled into the driveway just after 4:30 on Saturday afternoon, last week in June, in their Toyota minivan. Toni had phoned as requested when they reached NC-179, the road our house was on about four miles away so the gate and garage door were open for them. Lady stood between us as they poured out of the vehicle’s doors. Charlie and Toni came right to us for hugs and handshakes, but their daughters were a bit tentative until Jennie stepped forward. “You’re obviously Andrea and you must be Allison. Welcome to our home. Come up and meet Lady. She won’t bite you—I promise.”

They held their hands out for Lady to sniff as Jennie gave the command to protect. A minute later they were petting Lady’s head and chest. Lady responded by wagging her tail wildly. I don’t pretend to understand, but her trainer John had told us that dogs could remember thousands of individual scents. Lady had obviously remembered Charlie and Toni.

We carried their bags into the house and when I opened the door to the bonus room Lady bolted up in anticipation. “Go ahead,” I told the girls. “You’ll be up there. Jennie or I will come up later and show you how to operate the shades and everything else.”

Fifteen seconds later we were greeted by their screaming and we could hear them jumping, too. Allison came running down the stairs seconds later. “Daddy…Daddy…you have got to see this room. There’s the biggest TV I’ve ever seen and this neat couch and a refrigerator full of soda. It’s the greatest.” Charlie and I followed her up the stairs. She ran; we walked.

I reviewed everything, amazed at the attention they gave me. I finished by sitting in one of the seats and reclining until I was virtually horizontal. Andrea followed my example and a few seconds later asked, “Would it be okay if I slept here? This is so comfortable!” I’d never realized that teenage daughters could be so funny.

I was preparing three thick ribeyes for the grill when the girls ran down the stairs with Lady. “Can we go outside and play with her,” Allison asked. I agreed, but only for about thirty minutes and only if she had a bowl of water. It gets hot and humid in coastal North Carolina in June and it stays that way until the last week of August at the earliest.

They were good girls, playing with Lady and having a great time, but stopping every ten minutes or so to allow her to drink and cool down. Jennie, Toni, Charlie, and I sat on the deck with soft drinks, relaxing and chatting until Jennie commented, “What are you and Charlie doing tomorrow? I’m taking the women shopping.”

I laughed. “One thing we’re not doing is shopping. How about fishing, Charlie? We might be able to get a couple of flounder…what we call fluke up north.” Charlie agreed and I started the grill.
Tonight’s dinner would be simple—Thick prime ribeye from the area’s only butcher cooked medium rare, baked potato, and a tossed salad made with fresh veggies from a local farm. It sounded good to me and I guess everyone agreed. We had no leftovers other than trimmed fat that Lady ate with her usual gusto.

We began Sunday morning by joining Charlie, Toni, and the girls at Mass. Jennie and I had both been raised as Protestants and we rarely attended any kind of church services. Personally, I viewed organized religion as just another big business aimed at separating people from their money, but this morning I said “Amen” and sang all the hymns, shook hands and hugged my beautiful wife when appropriate. I even placed a ten dollar bill in the collection plate.

Once we had returned home Jennie gathered all the women and Lady into her SUV for their shopping excursion while Charlie and I made sandwiches and carried several six-packs of Coke out to the boat. No alcohol during this trip; boating on the waterway and in the marsh could be dangerous. I already had rods and tackle in the eight-foot locker that was bolted to the dock.