To the Barricades & 022 Momma Seams

Good Morning Ted and Jody:

I have had far too much time to think today.  I woke up late (for me).  AN only had two hours to get to my first appointment—PT.  Then I had about an hour to think between PT and acupuncture.  So, I did.  Then acupuncture has me lying face down with pins in me so I have to be immobile, so no recourse but to think.  Finally, I got home (I confess, I thought all the way home too), got on the exercise bike and thought for 30 more minutes. No, usually my awake time is punctuated with photo taking and a whole bunch of other mundane stuff.  However, six full hours dedicated to thinking (I might also note I left my hearing aids out, so was not bothered by talking to anyone as I could not hear to respond even were I predisposed) leaves me with one major conclusion: government by the rich, of the rich and for the rich should be abolished.  It would appear their whole approach leaves the rest of us out with promises of jobs that don’t actually materialize and healthcare they can’t seem to agree we, along with those who can afford to pay, can’t really be serious about having.  So, to the barricades, before they take our guns away.

Some time back, the issue of taking photographs of wires came up in one of my letters.  I did happen by some wires this morning.  I will need to go back there with a real camera and see what I can do with them.20170512_081004 ns email.jpg

I trust you find a comfortable place on the barricades and stay warm, happy and healthy while there.

Warmest regards, Ed

022 Momma Seams

Fiction in 1069 words by T. Edward Westen, 2107

“Who is that making noise on my porch?” the voice from inside the clapboard house called out.

“Sorry, Mrs. Seams, I am Captain Batan of the Police Department.  We would like to talk to you.”

“Who are those people with you?” the voice asked.

“I have Detective Philipson, Special Agent Fleishman and Agent White with me, Mam,” replied Captain Batan.

“How do I know you are cops and FBI?” the voice retorted.

Captain Batan and Detective Philipson, held up badges that they tried to position near the peephole in the door. “Here are our badges.”

“Where are the badges of the other two?” the voice asked.

Special Agent Fleishman dug his ID out of his shirt pocket and Agent While fished hers out of her purse.  Both held them up as the policemen had, near the peephole.

“OK, but where is your squad car?” the voice persisted.

“It is around the corner so as not to give your neighbors anything to speculate about.  However, with us standing here. We might as well have driven up with siren blaring and lights flashing.” Said, Captain Batan.  Turning to Detective Philipson, he said loudly enough to be heard inside, “Go get the squad car and bring it around with the siren and lights and come to a screeching halt out front.”

The front door opened and a diminutive, but a straight-backed woman in pink hair peeked around the door and said, “No need, sonny.  Us old folks are prepay to all sorts of scams.” Everyone could hear the click as she un-cocked the shotgun she held behind the door.  “No, can’t be too careful these days.  Folks just don’t raise their young ones right anymore, not like we used to teach them to respect their elders.  Now, what do you all want?”

Captain Batan said, “We need to talk to your boy’s Mam.”

Curling her lip Mrs. Seams asked, “What are you trying to pin on them now?“

Agent White said, “Mam, my name is Amanda White.  When your sons were falsely arrested for that chop shop some time back their possessions were improperly confiscated.  We need to return their possessions and give them a check for the settlement on their false arrest.  However, we can’t find them to give them the money and check.”

Her eyebrows raised, and her lip uncurled. Mrs. Seems bent a little and the four could hear the sound of her setting the shotgun on the floor and against the wall.  “Well you can leave it with me,” replied Mrs. Seams.

“Mam, if left to me I would do that in a moment.  But, the law says we have to have their signatures on forms saying they got their stuff back,” replied Agent White. Agent White turned to Special Agent Fleishman, “Can I tell her the rest?”

Special Agent Fleishman nodded and said, “You might as well.”

Agent White said “Mam, when your son was incarcerated in the Federal Penitentiary at Terre Haute, he was in a cell with a very bad man who thinks your son. What is the word? Yes, err a, snitched, on him.  Well, that man is being released tomorrow so we also wanted to warn your son about the threat on his life.”

Mrs. Seams was frowning and she reached back behind the door, stooped a bit and came up with her shotgun.  Brandishing the shotgun, she said, “If he comes around here, he’ll feel the sting of buckshot.”

“But he will come with some tall story and trick you,” said Agent White.

Mrs. Seams shook her head, “Ain’t no one been able to pull the wool over my eyes, no one.  Besides, I don’t know where the boys are.  When they come, they stay in the apartment over the garage and sometimes I don’t even know they were here.  Hell, the could be there now for all I know.”

Do you mind if Special Agent Fleishman goes back and knocks on the door?” asked Agent White.

“Go ahead.  But if they are there and you want them to hear you, you have to ring the bell at the top of the outside stairs.” Added Mrs. Seams.

Special Agent Fleishman nodded his head and said, “Thankyou Mam I’ll be right back.”

Mrs. Seams looked at Agent White and said, “That one is cool.  I can’t see where the bulge of his piece is like I can on the Captain and officer here.”

Agent White smiled, “He doesn’t carry?”

Mrs. Seams asked, “Is that wise in his business? Why even my boys always carry.”

Agent White laughed out loud and then said, “Special Agent Fleishman has moves.”

As soon as Special Agent Fleishman rounded the corner of the house he pivoted.

Materializing in the center of the garage apartment, he looked around.  He found a place that looked like a likely place to put in a surveillance device and beacon, placed it and then went down to the garage proper.  From the marks on the floor, he could see a lot of foot traffic had disturbed the dust recently and fresh tears in the cobwebs under the shelves and corners of the garage and even against the 1949 Chevy sitting upon blocks.  He almost missed small chip form some sort of crate that should not be in that garage.  He picked up the wood chip and put it in his pocket.  He then pivoted to the top of the stairs.  Making noise as he descended the stairs, he called out, as he rounded the corner back to the house. “No one answers, so they must not be here.”

Captain Batan, pulled his card out of his vest pocket and handed it to Mrs. Seams. “Have  your boys call me so we can get together and do the paperwork.”  And raising his right index finger for emphasis, “Do let Wilbur know that Tommy the Sandman is out to get him.”

“With a name like that now wonder he was in prison,” said Mrs. Seaman.

Amanda White, said, “Thank you for your cooperation.  Good Day.”

As the four walked down the street to the corner and turned they vanished when they were out of Mrs. Seam’s sight.  Mrs. Seams watched until they were out of sight. Then she closed the door and said, “Did I do OK boys?”

A male voice from inside her home said, “I wonder what they think they have on us?”



About democratizemoney

Retired University Professor
This entry was posted in fiction, political and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to To the Barricades & 022 Momma Seams

  1. Hah I KNEW they were in their somewhere! Fingers xt the surveillance device works!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. beetleypete says:

    You might think they would have had some sort of warrant to enter, and to find the brothers.
    But why am I thinking? In this story, that would only hurt my head…
    Best wishes, Pete.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you.
      A warrant here requires a sworn statement before a magistrate as to the evidence of a crime and the connection of the person to be searched. “These are bad guys we suspect of malfeasance” isn’t going to cut it. 🙂
      Warmest regards, Theo

      Liked by 1 person

      • beetleypete says:

        I started to imagine that they would go into the future, get the evidence, and get a warrant based on that. Of course, the dates would then be wrong. Hence the headache I have now… 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Eddy Winko says:

    I’m just going with it, trying to think about it too much has serious consequences!
    Pink hair and a shotgun, my kind of mama 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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