Something for Nothing: Chapter 14, "The Only Way Out"
... It was one of those dreams where you know you’re dreaming. You are conscious of it, that it’s a dream ... you want to wake up but you can’t ...
The sound of garbage trucks coming down Grove street with their laughing crews coalesced with Baker’s dream of riding in those little boats in the ‘Tunnel of Love’ in Coney Island. The garbage crews were laughing at him. He dreamed that the water was rushing by like the rapids on the Colorado River ... then he went over over Niagara Falls in a barrel. The dream dissolved into a subway tunnel under the East River. He was with Hennessy walking in water up to his chest toward a lighted station platform just ahead. Suddenly, the lights went out. Then, the tunnel walls collapsed and a torrent of water rushed in instantly flooding the tunnel, flushing them like a gigantic toilet tumbling head over heels like waterlogged rag dolls and washing them out to sea ...
Baker’s eyes fluttered, then opened to see Hennessy. He was standing over him, shaking Baker to wake up. “Yo, Tommy boy ... wake up! Come on, we need to get going down town.” Baker just stared at him, relieved that he was still in his bed at the house in Ridgewood. Hennessy continued, “You must be having a bad dream, looked like you were swimming in place, gasping for air.” Baker just said as his head cleared, “Oh, Ray ... you have no idea.” Hennessy said he was hungry for one of those bacon and egg on a Kaiser roll breakfast sandwiches, and they needed to speak with Lindsey at the diner. Baker said, “Right. Let’s go ... Hey, let’s stay above ground today ... take the “M” train over the Williamsburg bridge.”
(Author’s note: This Thomas Baker series novel is based on the ‘Sunset Playland’ and ‘Sweet Land of Liberty’ character as seen in the “Activity” section on this LinkedIn web page. This is a work of fiction based on true events, and contains opinion commentary. Any similarities to actual persons, places, or events is coincidental, and within the context of the author’s discretion.)
... As Baker is writing this story, it strikes him that the ‘tunnel of love’ chapter, now explained as a dream, may seem like a cheap shot to his readers. He feels the need to explain. It was fun, and hopefully not a waste of your time. He didn’t mean to lead you down the wrong path, or on a side trip with a dead end plot. The only way out of the hole he’s dug himself into with that is to get back to the main story. Otherwise, whatever it would have been that he and Hennessy discovered when they walked out of the flooding subway tunnel and up to the street from the 1st Avenue station in Manhattan would have completely taken over the story and set it on a new course ... into an unsustainable science fiction ‘Twilight Zone’-like theme from which there would be no credible return to the established plot. Maybe we’ll employ EMP e-bombs, terrorism, and a nuclear holocaust later if the story calls for it in a more contextual way. But for now, let’s get on that “M” train over the Williamsburg bridge with the guys and head to the diner for a bacon and egg on a Kaiser roll, a cup of coffee, and a word with Lindsey ...
“I love this view”, said Baker as they clickety-clacked over the bridge looking out over the East River at the city panorama in front of them. “Yeah, at least it’s dry up here.”, said Hennessy, chuckling ... referencing the dream Baker had just described to him.
The “M” train goes underground in Manhattan after crossing the Williamsburg bridge from the Brooklyn side of the East River. The first stop is the Delancey Street station. Baker’s ‘tunnel of love’ nightmare still lingered in his mind, but he was relieved not to be under the river. He was further relieved to see that the station’s fluorescent lights were on, and the place was a busy hub crowded with people. As it should be. It was a weekday mid-morning, mid-summer ... the Manhattan sky was a deep sun-drenched 80 degrees blue as they walked up the station steps onto Delancey Street. It smelled like New York City on a hot sunny summer day. You have to know it to understand it ... and to love it.
They had a critical decision to make. Walk north a few blocks on Essex St. to Houston and have a pastrami on club at the world famous “Send a salami to your boy in the army” Katz’s Delicatessen (they were so close) .. or suppress their Katz addiction and take a cab to the diner on Madison St. for a bacon and egg on a Kaiser and talk to Lindsey. Combine work with gastronomic pleasure. 1 Police Plaza was right across the street from the diner and they could then meet with FBI Field Office Director, Cindy MacNamara, who had set up an office there to work with the NYPD on the Statue of Liberty bombing, and now the bombing at Joe’s in Queens.
It really was a tough decision, but not to be the toughest they’d have to make today. They made the correct, adult decision about food, however, and decided to save Katz for another time, maybe lunch or dinner. They took a cab south on Essex to East Broadway, then turned onto Catherine St. to Madison and the diner. Baker called Cindy MacNamara to set an appointment. She said to come over, that she had an update for them on both bombings Baker told her he had some news for her as well.
Unbelievably, the cab driver was the same talkative guy who took Baker from the airport a week ago to his sister’s place in Ridgewood. The guy who asked if Baker wanted to rob a bank with him. Larry Berkowitz was the name on his cab ID card on the back of the seat. He didn’t recognize Baker. When Hennessy told him their destination was 1 Police Plaza, the guy fell silent. He looked at them in his rear view mirror. Maybe he did recognize Baker. “You guys cops or something?” Hennessy answered, “Yup.” That was all anyone said until they got to the diner a block away from the NYPD building when Baker said, “Just leave us out here. We’ll walk the rest of the way.” He stopped, they got out and paid the fare, and Larry took off ... seemingly relieved.
Baker and Hennessy walked into the diner, not so much like John Travolta and Samuel L. Jackson in ‘Pulp Fiction’, although the diner layout was almost identical, but more like Norm and Cliff from ‘Cheers‘ ... or just a couple of old guys with flip phones and AARP cards in their wallet (“What’s in your wallet?”). Either way, what happened next was more like ‘Pulp Fiction’. They sat in a booth by the window. Lindsey was nowhere to be seen. A waitress, a harrowed older woman with a distressed manner, appeared at their table and asked if they wanted coffee ... her name tag said ‘Margaret’. Baker answered, “Yes, please ... two, black.” Then he asked, “Is Lindsey working today?” The troubled woman answered, “She’s not here today. They called me in to cover.” Hennessy asked her, “Do you know where she is? ... it’s important.” Margaret snapped out of her tortured malaise and shot back, “Who do I look like, Sherlock Holmes? You guys want anything to eat?” Hennessy immediately liked her and she picked up on that. Baker ordered two bacon and egg on Kaisers. She gave Hennessy a come-hither look with a trace of a smile and said, “I’ll ask the manager about Lindsey.”
Margaret returned shortly with their coffees. She said the manager would bring out their order, and that he wanted to know why they were asking about Lindsey. Baker and Hennessy looked at each other with raised eyebrows ... Margaret looked at Hennessy with raised eyebrows.
The manager’s name was Manny. He was a short, wiry guy in his 50’s. Thick black hair, military cut, and mustache to match. He looked like a hard worker ... dressed in a soiled bib apron worn over dark suit pants. White shirt, red tie, highly shined rubber sole shoes, the kind military officers or police captains wear. His suit jacket was probably hanging on a wooden hanger in his locker in the back by the kitchen. He looked like a very competent guy, like he should be working at 1 Police Plaza around the corner, not the diner. Both Baker and Hennessy took special note of that. This guy had been, or was, a cop. As he set their breakfasts on the table, he asked, “You guys looking for Lindsey?”
Baker took a chance and ventured to say, “You know we are, and so are you.” Hennessy spoke up, “You run this place? ... Do you know Cindy MacNamara?” Baker slid over and Manny sat down next to him. He waved over at Margaret to bring him a coffee too.
As this was all happening inside, a guy walked past their window outside. Sunglasses, Yankee baseball cap, dark blue wind breaker, jeans and running shoes. Looked like a runner. Hennessy’s radar immediately switched on. Windbreaker? ... 85 degrees? ... Baker and Manny picked up the scent also. Their eyes followed him as he walked into the diner and past their table. Hennessy saw it first. What looked like a detonator switch with a red button dropped from under the runner’s jacket sleeve dangling from a blue wire.
As the guy turned to face the crowded diner customers, like he was going to say something, Hennessy reacted like a lightning bolt. He jumped up from his seat, grabbed the guys arm before he could get a grip on the detonator button and snapped it like a twig over the back of the booth they were sitting in. The sound was a sickening, unappetizing crunch that ruined everyone’s meal... someone shouted, “Ohhhh!, That’s gotta hurt!” ... but not as ruined or as hurt as what the suicide vest would have successfully achieved had it exploded. Baker and Manny followed a split second after Hennessy took control of the detonator and they pinned the guy down as the customers ran from the diner in a panic not fully realizing what was happening. Manny was shouting, “Everyone! Get out! Now!!!”
Baker threw his body across the guy’s legs and reached out to hold his right arm down. Manny had his knee on the guy’s neck and was holding his left arm down. The guy was moaning in pain and crying. Hennessy was gingerly holding the detonator in his left hand while straddling the guy’s chest. Hennessy knew about bombs and suicide vests, and apparently so did Manny. They were out of immediate danger of the vest going off. Manny shouted to Margaret, “Get the bomb squad over here! ... Hurry!” Hennessy added, “... toot sweet, Margaret, dear!” Baker, concentrating on the guy on the floor, the detonator, Hennessy and Manny, and Margaret, said both out loud and to himself ... “Most ‘rikki tic’ please, Margaret, dear....”
The suicide bomber wasn’t struggling ... just a sobbing rag doll at this point. He had failed. They all looked like a bunch of guys playing a weird game of ‘Twister’ ... or some Karma Sutra thing. Baker said to Manny, “Careful of his neck, let him breathe.” Manny said, “Right”, and released the pressure. Manny told Hennessy, “Careful of that detonator, don’t let it breathe.” Hennessy said, “Right.” ... then he looked over to Baker and said, “I hope this isn’t another one of your stupid dreams, Tommy boy.”
... but they all heard the sirens in the distance ...
John Kushma is a communication consultant and lives in Logan, Utah
https://www.dhirubhai.net/in/john-george-kushma-379a5762
Some past articles and op-eds
https://muckrack.com/john-kushma/articles