The Dog Who Ate The Flintlock

by Edward Coburn

  Chapter 7

  Molly grabbed her light jacket off the back of the couch as she pushed the stroller toward the front door. She paused so she could put on the jacket before she opened the door. She opened the storm door and locked the pneumatic cylinder with her foot so it would stay open. After pushing the stroller through both doors, she set the wheel brake on the stroller so it wouldn’t roll down the slight slope of the sidewalk. While she closed and locked the main door and released and closed the storm door, she watched two hummingbirds gather nectar from the roses that were blooming nicely in the window box under Mary Beth’s bedroom window. She wished she could smell her favorite rose, but it currently had a visitor that she didn’t want to scare away. Molly smiled and turned back to the stroller. She released the brake and let the stroller lightly pull her down the sidewalk toward the street. She turned left where her sidewalk intersected with the one lining the street and crossed at the corner after being certain no cars were coming in either direction.

  Once on the other side, Molly pushed the stroller toward the flower bed. She just had to smell the roses. She loved roses—her roses, the roses in the store she longed to buy but had nowhere to plant them, and especially the roses in the park. The roses in the park were remarkably beautiful and had such wonderful fragrances. She loved them best because it was only a short walk to the park and, she had to admit, because she didn’t have to tend or water them. Those pesky weeds were always popping up in her window box not to mention those ugly old aphids. She hated aphids. They ruined her roses by killing the blooms and made some of the roses die. Yes, she definitely hated aphids.

  As she approached the flower garden she saw him, Rupert Stippens, step out from behind a tree at the end of the pond. She flashed back to the last time she saw him standing across the street from her father’s house. After he stopped hounding her, she thought she’d never see him again and, yet, here he was. A shiver ran up her spine, and she closed her eyes hoping he would be gone when she opened them. No such luck, he was still there and was now moving toward her.

  “What are you doing here Rupert?”

  “I came to see you and your baby. Or should I say our baby? “

  “Mary Beth is not your baby,” Molly said defiantly.

  “Don’t you think I can’t do simple math. Our daughter was conceived well before you even met that cop husband of yours.”

  “I was sleeping with other guys when I was with you, so Mary Beth has nothing to do with you.” Molly tried the only lie she could think of on the spur of the moment. She sincerely hoped he’d buy it. “And I want nothing to do with you. So get lost.”

  “You think I’m buying that load of hogwash?” Rupert was moving to the sidewalk where Molly had left the stroller when she had begun to walk to the flower garden. She moved to stop him from advancing. “You weren’t with other guys when we were together. If you don’t remember, you didn’t even leave the house unless I was with you.”

  “That’s what you thought. But you were out of it most of the time, so you didn’t even know when I snuck out.” She had to keep trying to distract Rupert even though she could see it wasn’t working very well.

  When Rupert got close enough he backhanded her so fiercely she lost her balance almost falling. She didn’t dare go down. She had to protect Mary Beth from this monster.

  He stepped around her on his way to the stroller. She grabbed his shoulder and jerked him around. The only reason she was able to do this is her aggression had taken him completely by surprise. He shrugged off her hand, slapped her, spit an epithet at her, turned back around, and resumed walking toward the stroller.

  Molly could not let him touch her daughter. She was not going to be stopped by his abuse. She grabbed his shoulder again, but this time she couldn’t move him. He merely shrugged off her hand and kept walking. She hurried to get between him and the stroller.

  “Stop, please,” she pleaded, raising her hands in appeal. She hoped to reach some kind of humanity within him knowing full well he had very little if any. “She’s my daughter. You had nothing to do with her.”

  He was now close enough to the stroller to see Mary Beth. He stared at her for a minute before he said, “I knew it. She has my eyes. You can’t deny that. And that blonde hair. Did I ever tell you I had blonde hair when I was a kid.”

  “I don’t care what you had or didn’t have when you were a kid or what you told or didn’t tell me.” Molly tried to remain calm but the anxiety she felt when Rupert stepped from behind the tree was beginning to overwhelm her. “What do you want Rupert?”

  “We have a buyer for a blue-eyed, blonde-haired, girl.” The voice came from somewhere behind her. Molly turned to see a man in dirty jeans with holes in the knees and a grease-stained sweatshirt walking toward them from roughly the same position she’d initially seen Rupert. His greasy, straggly hair appeared as if it hadn’t been washed or been combed in weeks. He obviously hadn’t shaved in a while, and he had a crooked nose that had obviously been broken a time or two. However, his most obvious deformity was the scar from his left eye to his chin bisecting a reddish-brown birthmark covering most of his cheek. “What do you mean you have a…buyer?” Molly choked out fearing she understood only too well.

  “Just what I said. We have a buyer.”

  Molly stared pleadingly at Rupert who merely shook his head. “You can’t…you simply can’t mean to take…take…my baby,” Molly grabbed Mary Beth out of the stroller as quickly as she could before Rupert had a chance to stop her. She started to run across the street. Mary Beth tried to reach back for her bear. She let out a wail when she discovered Molly held her too tight for that.

  “Stop her,” the newcomer yelled at Rupert.

  Rupert caught her before she’d reached the middle of the street. He grabbed her arm, swinging her around. “Give me the baby,” he growled.

  “Absolutely not,” Molly growled back with more courage than she actually felt. “She’s my baby and…” she glared at the newcomer, “you and your…your…partner can’t…take her.”

  Rupert slapped Molly and grabbed Mary Beth when she reacted. Molly was left holding only Mary Beth’s blanket. She screamed with tears running down her cheek and ran after Rupert who was moving toward the newcomer. Mary Beth screamed out of tune with her mother.

  Molly grabbed Rupert around the neck hoping she would hurt him. She was beyond horrified at herself and at what was happening. “Give me my baby,” she screamed in his ear and kept yelling hoping to attract someone’s attention although she hadn’t seen anyone about.

  The newcomer ran up to them and jerked Molly’s arms from around Rupert’s neck. He twisted her right arm behind her back, which made her drop the baby blanket, and slapped his hand over her mouth. She tried to bite him which made him push her arm father up behind her back until she thought it would snap like a twig. “Take the brat to the car. I’ll take care of your girlfriend.”

  “Right, Harold,” Rupert said as he hurried off.

  Harold lowered Molly’s arm keeping a tight grip while he held his hand firmly clamped over her mouth. “I’m going to take my hand off your mouth, but if you scream, I’ll break your neck.” His breath was foul, and Molly couldn’t help but be repulsed by the odor emanating from his body. She didn’t doubt he’d be capable of carrying out his threat so, when he took his hand away, she didn’t scream. She couldn’t help Mary Beth if she were dead. Harold used the now free hand to grab her other arm in a vice-like grip. He released his grip on her other arm and moved beside her with his other hand firmly gripping her other arm so they might appear like a happy couple taking a stroll through the park. He guided her through the park into a parking lot. Because neither he nor Rupert thought about the stroller, Molly held out the faint hope someone would see the stroller and come looking for her and Mary Beth. She knew that wouldn’t be Bobby, not any time soon, at least, because he generally didn’t come home until six o’clock or later and it was barely…, she couldn’t remember what time i
t was but knew it was before noon.

  Harold guided Molly to one of the cars in the parking lot. Seeing Rupert in the car with Mary Beth gave Molly no comfort at all. It was unlikely the two men would relinquish her daughter to her. She tried to reach through the open window toward her daughter, but Harold held her too tightly. “My baby…,” she cried trying in vain to break his grip.

  Molly didn’t see Harold reach into his back pocket for a piece of pipe about two feet long. He shoved her away and crashed the make-shift cudgel into her skull. She dropped to the ground immediately. Harold looked into the car, straight into Rupert’s eyes. “Put the baby down and come help me get her into the car.”

  Rupert immediately did as he was commanded. He knew better than to question anything Harold ordered. He set the baby on the seat, slid out of the passenger side of the car, and together, he and Harold put Molly in the front passenger seat. “What now boss?”

  “Come around to the other side of the car and hand the baby to me so I can put the brat in my car.”

  Rupert wondered, with growing suspicion, why he needed to hand the baby to Harold. He knew, however, Harold always had something in mind that Rupert many times did not fathom and he had learned to never question anything his boss ordered him to do. Thus, he followed Harold to the other side of the car where he opened the door. He had started to lean in to pick up the baby when Harold clipped him with the pipe, and he went down just as Molly had done.

  Harold reached into the car to pick up the baby. He took the baby to his car and put Mary Beth in a car seat in the back seat. Then he went back to Rupert’s car and with an effort, positioned Rupert behind the wheel. Back at his car Harold opened the trunk, put on a pair of gloves that he’d worn that morning when he’d filled the gas can he now took out. He still remembered the commercial he’d once seen that said it was dangerous to carry a can of gasoline in the trunk of your car. He knew it was undoubtedly going to be hazardous for Rupert and his babe.

  Harold glanced around briefly, saw no one about, and smiled as he dumped gas over Molly and Rupert’s slumped bodies. He dumped most of the remaining gas over the car, leaving just enough to create a ten-foot trail into the parking lot. Then he threw the gas can in the backseat of Rupert’s car. Returning to the end of the gas fuse, he pulled out a book of matches he had found that morning lying in the parking lot of the hotel where he and Rupert had stayed. He had picked up the book with a tissue being sure not to touch the book or any of the matches. He had already planned the use for the matches. There were only two matches in the book, but it would only take one. Keeping his gloves on, he pulled out one of the matches, struck it, and it flared to life, or death as it were. Smiling again he tossed the match onto the gas fuse. The flames immediately traveled up his fuse and engulfed the car as he hurried back to his car. As he drove away whistling a tune, the car burst into an inferno. He was miles away before any of the near-by neighbors heard the sirens.

  Chapter 8

  “Hurry up,” Adam said to his sister Sarah. He’d been ready for his family’s trip to see his mother’s sister in Bangor, Maine for several hours. His bags were packed and already in the car. But his sister was dragging her feet as usual. He walked down the hall to his room to give it one more look. He wouldn’t want to forget anything in his excitement.

  He was excited because they were going to be in Bangor which was close to the University of Maine. He had been considering attending the university when he graduated from his Chicago high school next year. His mother had promised him they could go the few miles out of their way to let him look the school over and talk to a few of the drama teachers. She even called the school to make sure they were having summer school classes so some of the faculty would be around.

  Adam had been in a few plays in high school and had fallen in love with acting. He’d had a few excellent write-ups in the high school paper and even a review in the Chicago Times when he played Mortimer in Arsenic and Old Lace. True, the high school reviews had been written by Larry, his friend since grade school, but he was sure Larry had enough integrity to write the facts. At least that’s what he told himself. The Times reporter hadn’t been quite so enthused about his acting as had Larry, but Adam thought that was only because the reporter had previously written about more professional productions and actors and Adam knew his acting couldn’t win in a comparison against professionals. Someday maybe, but not yet.

  Adam had also talked his folks into a detour to visit West Virginia University in Morgantown. It was a lot more out of their way than the University of Maine, but someone had suggested they had an outstanding drama department and, according to the catalogs and other information he’d sent away for, West Virginia University was his first or second choice of the schools he really wanted to attend. His parents, and even his sister, which surprised him, wanted him to stay closer to home and go to school in Chicago or somewhere in Illinois. “After all,” they said, “several excellent schools in Chicago offer degrees in performing arts.” He couldn’t disagree with their assessment having been to several performances put on at the local colleges. Every time he saw one of the plays he dreamed of being up on the stage receiving the applause and, sometimes, the standing ovations. But, for now, he’d have to satisfy himself with being the best actor in his class and maybe in his whole high school. There had been many disagreements about where he should go to college, but his best argument for being so far away was that he merely wanted to get away from the city into a more rural setting. He’d been out of the city a few times on outings and felt down for days after coming back to town. He missed the wide open spaces, the wildlife, and the fresh air. Though in rural Illinois there wasn’t much wildlife not counting the cows and horses that didn’t actually constitute wildlife. To him, Maine and West Virginia sounded fantastic and definitely out of the rat race of the city.

  Because Adam’s mother, Agnes, had grown up in Maine she certainly couldn’t fault her son on his interest in the University of Maine, but West Virginia University was another matter. She knew about Maine and how great the people were there, but she knew nothing about West Virginia except that it was a long way from Maine and ever father from Chicago. She would have to keep trying to talk Adam into staying in the Chicago area or making the University of Maine his first choice.

  Agnes was looking forward to seeing her sister, but even more, she was looking forward to getting back to Maine because it was such a beautiful place. And if Adam went to college there, she’d have an additional excuse to go to Maine. While there she planned to take everyone to one of her favorite beaches and knew they should go hiking at least once or twice. She imagined her sister could take them on a variety of different trails. Agnes’s memory was a bit vague about the available trails since she hadn’t lived there in a lot of years. Yes, she was definitely looking forward to being back in Maine even if it would only be for a short time. She knew Adam was enthused about their trip while Sarah was only lukewarm. Sarah said she would be glad to be out of the hustle and bustle of the city, but she would miss her friends. They had made lots of plans for summer vacation, and now she would miss out on some of their adventures.

  Adam wandered back into his sister’s room when he had satisfied himself he hadn’t forgotten anything. Much to his consternation, Sarah was still packing. “I thought you said you were virtually done packing last night.”

  “I was, but then I decided the red outfit was all wrong and then the blue jacket didn’t go with the blue dress I put in instead and…”

  “Enough! I don’t wanna hear this.” Adam said covering his ears with his hands. “Please just get done. I wanna go before the campus buildings crumble to dust.”

  “Very funny,” Sarah said. “I’ll be done pretty soon. If, that is, you leave me alone to get done,” she added in exasperation.

  “Girls!” Adam said in a huff. He went downstairs. “Mother!” Adam said sharply. “Can you please do something about Sarah? Now she’s decided to change what she’s taking a
nd is packing all over again.”

  “I guess that’s at least partly my fault. I asked her what she decided to take and mentioned her blue dress was adorable. But I didn’t mean for her to change her mind about everything she’d already packed. But, there’s nothing to worry about as your father won’t be here for another,” she glanced at her watch, “hour and a half. Are you sure you’ve got everything?”

  Adam nodded. “I just checked again. I even put in the stuff I got from both colleges. The Bangor stuff had a map of Bangor as well as a map of the campus. And I put in the maps of Maine and West Virginia that I got from their tourist bureaus. I sure hope I get to meet with a couple of the professors,” he put in with a hopeful look on his face.

  “I think you will,” Agnes assured him. “Remember I called them.” Changing the subject, she said, “Let’s go get supper ready so we can eat as soon as your father gets home and maybe we can beat some of the rush hour traffic.”

  “Good idea if Sarah ever gets ready.” Adam took one final verbal swipe at his sister as he followed his mother to the kitchen.

  “I sure hope suppers ready,” Mark Swope, said as he came through the front door.

  Adam regarded his father anxiously, “It’s ready. Let’s eat.”

  “Yes, sir,” Mark said, sitting at his traditional place at the head of the table. “You aren’t in any kind of hurry are you?”

  Adam didn’t say anything as Agnes leaned over for a quick kiss as she set his plate of fried chicken and potato salad in front of Mark. “I have sandwiches all made up for the first leg of the trip so we won’t have to stop for our late supper. We should be able to get in at least eight hours or more if you let Adam drive some.” She glanced at Adam who smiled broadly, vigorously nodding his head.

  “I suppose he can once we’re out of Chicago. The traffic on the interstate shouldn’t be too bad. But if it is you can drive instead if I get too tired.”