The Plodder's Mile -- Chapter Twenty-four

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“Officer Jones! You don’t know how glad I am to see you!” Cody blurted out, a little too loud. Greg shushed him and grabbed his knife from his belt and started to cut through the duct tape.

“Thanks, Cody, but we’ve got to be quiet. Was Raymond Johnson with you?” asked Jones.

“Short guy with an attitude?” asked Cody. “Yeah, this guy hijacked me and my car just in front of a police roadblock. He wants to hurt Mr. Graham, and he’s got my gun.”

Greg looked back over at the Graham house, and finally cutting through the tape, started to help Cody unwrap his wrists. “He locked me in my trunk. I’m parked on the other side of the block.”

“He’s probably already in the house,” Greg said, thinking that now he had three people to worry about. He decided Cody could run to the house across the street while Greg was running back up to the Graham house. “Cody, I need you to go to the old Parker house across the street. A friend of mine is asleep there, but she doesn’t know what is going on. Tell her what you know, and that I’m, going into the house. Do you know how to work a police radio?”

“Yeah, that’s one of the things I’ve been studying,” he reminded Greg.

“That’s right. Good. I have a feeling you’re going to be a good man to have around,” said Greg. “Now when I run to the Graham’s driveway, I want you to run at the same time to the back door of the Parker’s. Got it?”

Cody shook his head, and was feeling very confident. Though only 20, Officer Greg Jones had just called him a man, and was depending on him to help out in this situation. It was the kind of emergency he had signed up for, and the adrenalin was pumping. He determined he would not let Officer Jones down.

“Good luck, Cody,” said Greg. “Now let’s do this.”

They both sprinted from the neighbor’s carport at the same time in different directions, without a sound.

John Graham had fallen asleep on the couch. After the fitful dreams, he was sure he would be tossing and turning the night through, and didn’t want Reba to have to suffer for his wild imaginings. John had always been a light sleeper, and when he heard the noise from the basement, it awakened him slightly. He was used to listening to noises from his bedroom, imagining what they could be, and then usually going right back to sleep. It was a strange skill, to be aware while being asleep, but he guessed it had come when he had become a parent, and since his wife slept so soundly, he felt it was his job to keep an ear on the house. He heard the children cry first, and so his job when the children were young had been to go and get them to bring to Reba to be nursed. It had been a good arrangement, because John could usually go right back to sleep. Even the children had taken advantage of his ability to go back to sleep very fast in the days before they had remote controls. They would haul John upstairs to the television, where he would sleep between programs, being urged by his little ones to turn the channel to the next cartoon when the one they were watching was over. And in between, John slept great.

As he was preparing to go back to sleep after the random noise from the basement, he thought he heard the door to the basement creak slightly. This was also unusual, so he opened his eyes this time and looked toward the basement.

He could hear the footfalls on the soft carpet creeping up the stairs. Whoever it was turned slowly on the landing of the front door, and began their ascent up the last set of stairs. John Graham had often wondered just what he would do if faced with an intruder, and found that he was frozen and unable to move, that his breathing had even stopped and he was holding his breath waiting to see who or what was in his house. If he had wanted to, he couldn’t have moved a muscle.

Raymond Johnson emerged at the top of the stairs, and gave a cursory glance around the front room. The shadowy shapes on the couch didn’t betray that John Graham was lying there, nor did Ray expect to encounter anyone until the bedrooms, which he assumed were toward the other side of the house. Ray slowly moved across the front room while John Graham watched him. John recognized the man from the television, the man who was here in his house now to get the money that John had taken from him. As Ray crossed the opening just before the kitchen, and approached the hall, John could see the gun in Ray’s hand silhouetted against the light from the kitchen. It was decision time. Ray was about to enter the hall when John found himself speaking up, much to his surprise.

“You don’t need to go back there,” John said, as calmly as he could, but even he could hear the ragged edge of fear in his voice. “I’m the one you’re looking for.” John slowly stood up in front of the two windows in the front room, and now he was silhouetted by the lights from the street. “I’ve got your money,” he said, not believing he was ready to give it up so easily after all of his machinations. But John realized he was only acting in defense of his wife, who was breathing heavily in the bedroom. Traumatizing her wasn’t worth any amount of money.

Ray turned to see the giant figure standing in the shadows. “You John Graham,?” Ray asked simply.

“Yeah,” John confirmed. “Let me get your money.”

Greg Jones had dashed to the carport and was now standing outside the front door. He could hear voices inside, but the words were unclear. Johnson had probably entered through the back side of the house, and trying the front door as quietly as possible, he found it was locked. Now he was down to three options, which he quickly weighed. He could go around the back and try to gain access to house without being noticed. He could break down the front door and risk getting his friend shot. Or he could wait patiently here where he could hear John’s voice, and he assumed Raymond Johnson’s voice, and see what came next. Patience was not his strong suit, but knowing this was a shortcoming, Greg forced himself to edge closer to the door and listen.

Cody by this time had run across the street and into the back of the Parker house. Still running toward the front of the house, he found Paula almost immediately and gently kneeled down to wake her. She was slow to gain full awareness, and called for Greg.

“Officer Jones isn’t here,” said Cody patiently, using his best calming skills, which included speaking in a quiet voice. “He sent me over to tell you to stay here and watch the house, while I go check in on the radio.”

“What’s happening?” Paula mumbled, trying to focus.

“There’s a man with a gun over at Mr. Graham’s,” Cody explained simply, but the words shook Paula out of her stupor almost immediately.

“A gun?” she inquired. “And Greg’s over there, too?

“Yeah,” said Cody. “Watch the house, and I’ll be right back.” He ran back through the house and went straight to the car and the radio.

Smitty picked up the radio and warned whoever was on the other end that this was an official police frequency. Cody jumped right back with more unofficial language.

“I know. Officer Greg Jones told me to get right to this radio and tell you he has the suspect at the Graham house,” Cody explained.

“Raymond Johnson is at John Graham’s house?” asked Smitty.

“I don’t know who the guy is. Short, reddish hair. All I know is he kidnapped me and hijacked my car, and he wants something Mr. Graham has. Officer Jones told me to call you right away.”

“Any gunshots?” Smitty wondered out loud, and Cody told him it was still quiet there.

Smitty clicked back. “Thanks for the information. We are about 10 minutes from your location. Can you stay by the radio and call if there is anything to report?

Cody smiled broadly and said, “You bet. I’ll be right here.”

Smitty frowned. This was not going the way he had hoped.

John Graham stood looking at the man who was pointing the gun at him. It resembled what he had dreamt, but this was all too real. John wasn’t necessarily afraid, and he wasn’t nervous. It was a strangely peaceful resolution to a situation he had pictured much differently. There was no high drama, just a guy with a gun who wanted his package. He didn’t even really seem in too much of a hurry, but just determined to get what he wanted.

Raymond Johnson evaluated the cause of his headaches, and because the man was so big, he was glad he had the gun in his hand. But Raymond Johnson was also not nervous, and knew he had to be patient until the money was in his hands. Then it would be time to shoot this guy.

“So where’s the money?” Ray said simply.

“It’s right here in the room, over in that closet,” John motioned, unsure whether the gunman wanted him to move or not. “I can get it for you, if you want.”

“I want,” Ray said, and motioned him toward the closet with the gun. “But let’s not try anything funny, like pulling a gun out of there.” The room was dark, but both men’s eyes were adjusting to the darkness, and they could now see each other’s faces. Both faces wore solemn masks of seriousness.

John crossed slowly to the closet, resigned to the fact that the money was about to be handed over, and that he might or might not live through this night. The elimination of all other choices seemed to clarify the simplicity of the equation. Do as you were told. See what happens next. Plod yet another step.

Opening the closet door, John pulled on the string attached to the bare bulb in the closet more out of habit than of a conscious choice, but it was the wrong choice. Ray almost barked out, “What are you doing? Get rid of the light!”

John obeyed instantly, and both of their eyes readjusted. Ray’s finger was tight on the trigger, but he showed more restraint than usual. He wanted to see the money before he did anything rash. John reached up to the top shelf, not far for his long body and long arms, but almost inaccessible to Reba, which is why he had hidden it there. John fumbled in the dark, but the package was soon in his grasp, and he slowly turned to face his adversary. He held the bundle with both hands, and the heavy weight of the package reminded him there was a substantial pile of money in his grasp.

Greg Jones had lowered himself to peer through the front window next to the door. The translucent lace could be easily seen through, and the shape of two bodies was clearly evident at the top of the stairs. It was time to take a shot, since this was as clear a shot as he would get, but he hesitated one moment, making sure the smaller figure was clearly in his sights. Then suddenly, he wasn’t.

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