ICE
The two black SUVs without license plates arrived in Three Egg at about 10:45 on a Sunday morning. The windows were darkened so nobody could see inside. The vehicles passed by Pho You and kept going to the end of the street near the bookstore. Then the cars turned around and drove back to the restaurant, which would open at 11:00.
Sophia had only been in Three Egg for two weeks, but by now Pho You had become so popular that most mornings there was a long line outside waiting to go in. This Sunday, Fang had let as many people as the restaurant would hold inside early. They sat happily, waiting for food to be served at 11:00, all curious to see what dishes she had for them that day.
But people in the window and people outside on the street all saw the SUVs and felt uneasy. It was a break in the routine. Everybody knew cars were not allowed in Three Egg. Their apprehension was intensified when the cars stopped in front of the restaurant and the men got out.
ICE had arrived in Three Egg. The men wore masks and had guns. Handguns on their hips and a few had automatic rifles. Most of the agents stood next to the two cars while two of the men went inside. One of them was obviously in charge.
The customers didn’t know how to react, so they didn’t. Fang came out of the kitchen so shocked and surprised that she dropped the tray she was carrying. Then she walked right up to the man in charge — all five foot two of her — and said, “Mister, no guns in here, and no cars in Three Egg. That our rule. You go, or I call the police.”
The man towered over her and said, “Bitch, we are the police.”
As soon as he said it, she spit in his face. “You not police. You ICE. We America. We see what you do in Minnesota. We have TV.”
The man slapped her and knocked her to the ground. “You better shut up, bitch. If you don’t want to get deported. We just came here for a nice lunch is all. Now you go and get us that lunch. There’s twelve of us.”
Then he turned around and said to everybody in the restaurant, “Everybody else get out if you don’t want to get shot.” Then he panned his rifle around the room and pointed at everybody in the restaurant. “I said, get outta here, you goddamn communists. We’ve been watching you from Washington harboring illegals!”
By now, people were getting up to leave, and most of them had raised their hands over their heads. Fang was trying to get up off the floor, and her mother came out of the kitchen to help her up. They were speaking Chinese. The man grabbed Fang’s mother by the arm and shoved her into a booth. Then he said to Fang, “This your mother? You want her to live? Go in there and get us some goddamn food.”
Fang didn’t say anything, but got up and walked into the kitchen. Her mouth was bleeding and one of her teeth was on the floor. When she came back she had some papers.
“You see here. We have papers. We citizens. Naturalized. We Americans.”
“Let me see those, bitch!” and he grabbed the papers. He looked at both papers, looked at Fang, then looked at her mother. Then he said in a nice voice, “I’m so sorry, ma’am. My mistake. You are citizens.”
Then his voice became angry again. “Until today!” Then he ripped up their naturalization papers and said, “Now bring us some food, bitch! Twelve people!”
By this time Fang could see the Three Egg police had arrived. She saw through the window that the windshield of one SUV was broken, and she saw Leo riding away on his bicycle with what looked like a baseball bat.
Three Egg only had two policemen. Chief Durham and Officer Conrad. Chief Durham was about fifty-five. He had been the junior officer for about twenty years until his superior retired. Officer Conrad was twenty years younger, and it was assumed eventually he would take over. You could almost say they didn’t have any work because nobody ever broke any laws until today.
Now the head ICE officer came out of Pho You with Fang in handcuffs. He pushed her to the ground and walked up to Chief Durham. Officer Conrad went to help Fang sit up as her mother watched it all from the window booth. Chief Durham said: “Sir, you need to release her. And you need to move your cars out of town. Cars are not allowed without advance permission. There are clear signs about that at the city limits.”
“Anything else?”
“You need to show your face and your badge. Your cars are unmarked, and you could just be vigilantes for all we know.”
“Well, let me ask you, is it Chief Durham?” “That’s what my badge says, yes sir.”
“Well, if you are police, how come you don’t have guns? You can’t be police with no guns.”
With that, the officer turned his gun around and hit Chief Durham on the head with the rifle butt, knocking him to the ground next to the light pole.
“Cuff them!”
Two men rushed up to the dazed Chief Durham. One wrapped Chief Durham’s arms around the pole, and the other cuffed him so he was seated on the ground with his back to the pole and his hands behind it.
Two other men cuffed Officer Conrad with his hands behind his back. The ICE officer shouted so that everybody in the crowd could hear him clearly.
“This is what happens to traitors who don’t support the Constitution. We’re sent by Washington to arrest the illegals and put down the communists and antifa. We’ve been watching Three Egg. You can’t put the president on the money if you don’t have any money! Take our country back!”
Then he turned his attention back to the two officers. “Now you,” he said to Officer Conrad, “I want you to show your loyalty to the Constitution. I want you to go piss on your boss.”
Officer Conrad just said, “I’m not gonna do that. You might as well shoot me.”
“Well, we just might. If you don’t piss on him, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
By now, Chief Durham had it together as much as he could given the situation. He said to Officer Conrad, “Derek, just do what the man said. Piss on me or he’ll shoot you.”
“Well,” said Officer Conrad, “I can’t piss on you with my hands cuffed behind my back. Can’t undo my zipper.”
The head ICE officer walked up to Officer Conrad and hit him in the head with his rifle butt. Then he said, “That’s a good point. I can see why you made officer. So I’ll modify my request. If you don’t piss in your pants, I’m going to shoot you in the head for treason. And I won’t mind so much since you’re not white.”
“Derek,” said Chief Durham. “Please do as he said. I don’t want him to shoot you.”
Then Derek, against his better judgment, pissed all over himself as he lay there bleeding from his head. Then the officer used his handgun to shoot Derek in the foot.
All this time Tony and Sophia had been enjoying a quiet Sunday morning in the apartment. Jimbo had sent some coffee up. Sophia was reading the edits that Margarita had made of her interviews so far. Sophia was generally satisfied with the edits. She thought the stories could be made into short video vignettes. Then she saw a notification on her phone, or as Tony called it her goddamn phone. It was one thing she had learned about Tony. He didn’t have much patience for the intrusion of the phone on their contented lives in Three Egg.
But Tony was in the bathroom, dealing with his call of nature after drinking half a cup of dark roast. Sophia clicked on the notifications and saw that Margarita had started a live video feed of the chaos at Pho You. Margarita had found a place to set up her phone on a tripod in an unobtrusive place. The view wasn’t a closeup, but Sophia could see three people on the ground with ICE officers all around. One of the people was Fang.
Panicked, Sophia said, “Tony. Hurry up. Something is happening at Pho You. I’m going down there. Are you coming?”
“Wait two minutes. I’m almost finished.”
“This can’t wait. You can meet me down there.”
Sophia ran down the steps in her pajamas and high heels, hopped on her bike, and pedaled as fast as she could towards the restaurant. When she got close she could see two of the officers had Fang in front of them, and they were about to put her in the back seat of the SUV. It occurred to Sophia that she didn’t have a plan. But she pedaled on trying to speed up, and within seconds, she had plowed into both of the officers, knocking them to the ground, flipping her over the bicycle, falling face-first into the pavement. Somehow, Fang was still standing. Some of the other officers rushed over and picked Sophia up, ready to put her in cuffs. Sophia was in pain and thought she had broken her arm, but she was kicking, screaming, biting, and clawing with her nails.
“The bitch bit me,” yelled one of the officers, and then two shots rang out. Sophia and Fang lay in the street, both bleeding and shot in the head. They were facing each other, but both of them were already gone. By this time, most of the bystanders were taking video on their phones. They were sickened that they had just recorded two murders and in disgust, some of them threw their phones to the ground.
The ICE chief knew when to cut his losses and told his men to get in the SUVs. Fang’s mother was in the back seat of one of them. As they drove away, the chief stuck his head out the window and yelled, “You goddamn communists can clean up your own goddamn mess.”
By now Tony was pedaling up on his bicycle. He had no idea what had happened, but he could see Sophia and Fang lifeless. He got off his bike, got on his knees, and wept. Margarita went over to her camera and turned it off. The whole town was sobbing and a few of them were trying to figure out how to un-cuff Chief Durham and Officer Conrad.
Tony sat in the booth at Rosie’s Diner. Rosie had collected him off the street and brought him there, covered in Sophia and Fang’s blood. He had gone from weeping to sobbing to crying and now was just dazed.
Somehow Rosie managed to clean him up. It didn’t matter what she said to him. He just answered, “Yes, dear,” “No, dear,” “I’m not sure, dear.” Vague utterances like that.
Rosie sat across from him in the booth. “You know what I think, Tony?”
“Yes, dear,” he answered.
“I know we’re supposed to be good and ethical and all that. I know the Bible teaches us to turn the other cheek.”
“Yes, dear.”
“But you know what I want, Tony?”
“Yes, dear.”
“I want revenge. I want to kill those bastards. If I do that, I’ll be content. If I’m still alive, they can do whatever they damn well want to me. Those motherfucking sons of bitches.”
“Yes, dear.”
“Tony, are you listening to me?”
“Yes, dear. Revenge. Kill those motherfucking sons of bitches. Just tell me what to do.”
TONY GUIDO AMERICAN HERO
By early afternoon, the news was all over the country, and the national press was starting to show up in Three Egg. Nobody was bothering to get permission to drive cars inside the city limits. Videos had quickly made it to CNN, Facts News, CBS, ABC, NBC, you name it. It was announced that the Secretary of Homeland Security would give a press conference in Three Egg at 4:00 p.m.
That created a new wave of media, and Three Egg lacked the infrastructure to accommodate this crush of people. The citizens who had been trying to uncuff the two officers had been successful. Both Officer Conrad and Chief Durham were treated by the vet Dr. Oski. Otherwise, they would have had to drive thirty miles to the nearest hospital. And everybody trusted Dr. Oski.
As bad as things were, Chief Durham was still trying to fulfill what responsibilities he could, but he was obviously overpowered and outmanned. He had a friend in the state police who was pretty high up and had a good connection with the governor. The friend told Chief Durham he wasn’t sure what he could expect, because the president already did not like the governor and was putting pressure on him to butt out.
Chief Durham emphasized to his friend that Fang and Sophia were still lying in the street in front of Pho You. If the state could send a coroner, that would be a big help. Chief Durham also said they didn’t have any bathrooms for the press. If the governor could under the radar get a delivery of porta potties, that would be a big assist. The friend told Chief Durham that he would do what he could. But because of the politics, he wasn’t optimistic.
It turns out the truck with the porta potties showed up by 2:00 p.m., but CNN reported there was an order from a high official not to remove the bodies until after the press conference. And there were no signs that there was a hurry to do any real investigation.
CNN and Facts News were providing live coverage, which included shots of the covered bodies with the sheets. Facts News reported how the Asian woman with no naturalization papers had spit in the ICE officer’s face, and how the two local policemen had tried to interfere with and harass the agents.
The first part of Rosie’s plan was for Tony to show up at the press conference and try to get the ear of one of the agents. Tony would invite them to the diner for a celebration of patriotism, with the promise of delivering up more “illegals.” Tony did his best to blank his mind of everything from the day. He thought of when he said goodbye to the little girl in the mushroom trip. Today the little girl had returned, now a full-grown woman. She told Tony she knew he didn’t mean to shoot her. Call it self-defense or whatever you want. But the men today came to do harm and trauma. Premeditated violence. Do unto others as they do unto you, the little girl said. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. You need to get your shit together, Tony, she told him. Then she disappeared from his mind.
Damn, thought Tony. Her English is good!
Tony looked around. He was still in the diner. Rosie looked at him and asked, “Are you okay, Tony? You were zoned out there for a while.”
“No,” he answered. “I’m not okay. But I’m back, and I’m ready. You get everything else ready. I’ll get the men.”
“Don’t worry about my part honey. You be careful now.” Tony walked down the street and within a few minutes he was at Pho You. Reporters were everywhere, but the people of Three Egg were nowhere in sight.
After what they witnessed earlier, Tony was certain that their self-preservation had kicked in. The locals didn’t want to set themselves up for disaster by talking to reporters.
Then Tony saw the Homeland Security horse trailer. It was about a block away from Pho You. Tony saw her, Secretary Christ. She was looking in a vanity mirror, touching up her face. Tony could see her assistants getting her horse out of the trailer for her to ride the one block to the press conference. She was wearing tight jeans, a western shirt, boots, and a cowboy hat.
If Tony had been closer, he might have noticed that she had the top two shirt buttons undone to give a peek of her pink pushup bra. Now she was touching up her lip gloss. When she was ready, she mounted the horse and rode to the platform where she would speak. Her video team followed her with the cameras, as her assistant ran to catch up to hold the horse. As she dismounted, the horse took a large dump in front of the reporters.
Tony saw that but didn’t see any ICE agents. In hindsight he realized it was stupid to think they would be there. This plan is not going to work, he thought.
Secretary Christ checked the microphone, ran her hand through her wild brunette hair, and then shook her head once so her hair swung across her chest. She gave a brief pout and then started to speak.
“I want to address the tragic situation that unfolded today on the streets of Three Egg. First, I want to say that Three Egg has a long history steeped in patriotism. Three Egg has had many patriots who sacrificed themselves for their country, and one of Three Egg’s residents — Tony Guido — was awarded both a Purple Heart and a Silver Star during the Vietnam War.
“Jesus Christ,” thought Tony. “She gave me an extra medal. Is this shit on national TV?”
Secretary Christ continued. “But these are dark times, and the good people of Three Egg have been infiltrated by communists, illegal aliens, and domestic terrorists.
“The tragedy that occurred today happened when law enforcement came to carry out their lawful duties to keep Americans safe. It was learned that two Vietnamese women who are both communist and illegal were running an illegal restaurant here in Three Egg. The very restaurant you see behind me. A safe house for Antifa.”
She turned around to point. “Pho You. Now how subtle is that? Pho You? Of course they were mocking good Americans, and probably spitting in their food.
“When our agents arrived to take the two women into custody, the younger Vietnamese woman Fang violently attacked the chief arresting officer. One customer in the restaurant said she had a large meat cleaver. Fortunately the officer’s training helped him to deflect a knife blow, and the illegal woman feigned injury by falling to the floor. When the agent tried to assist her, she spit in his face.”
Now Secretary Christ pointed to the monitor that had been set up behind her. It showed a still image of Fang, spitting in the agent’s unmasked face.
“But our agents were undeterred. They detained both women, and were escorting them to the arrest vehicle when another illegal crashed her bicycle into the two arresting agents. This resulted in one agent breaking his hand and another dislocating his shoulder. As the women continued to resist, in fear of their lives our brave officers relied on their training and fired two shots in self-defense. The woman Fang and the woman on the bicycle were both struck, and their bodies will be removed as soon as we have had time to wrap up our investigation this afternoon. In the meantime, that’s where they will lie. Scum.”
Secretary Christ pointed to her left, where Fang and Sophia were still covered by sheets.
“The older woman was not injured but was found to have suspicious books in Chinese in the restaurant kitchen. She has been successfully detained and is now awaiting deportation to Uganda.
“Finally, after a thorough investigation we have learned that the woman on the bicycle was an illegal from Colombia. Because of similar looks and accent, she had duped the people of Three Egg into thinking she was Sofia Viagra, the respected actress who came to America legally and was naturalized. Shame on her. Now that should make everything clear. I can take a few questions. Yes, you in the blue tie.”
“When you say shame on her, do you mean shame on Sophia the imposter, or shame on the real Sofia Viagra?”
“What are you, an idiot? Of course I mean shame on the imposter. Next?”
“Where are the agents now? Are they afraid to appear in public?”
“That question disrespects our law enforcement officers. I won’t dignify it with an answer.”
“Who do you have on the investigation that reads Chinese? How do we know the suspicious books are not simply cookbooks? Why would the Vietnamese women have books written in Chinese?”
“Now that question pisses me off. Everybody knows cookbooks have pictures. These questions are a waste of time. This press conference is over.” With that, Secretary Christ stomped away from the microphone to collect her horse.
This was Tony’s chance. He was near the horse and the horse shit. As Secretary Christ approached, he shouted, “Ma’am, watch your step!”
She looked down, just in time to avert the pile. Then she looked at Tony.
“Well, thank you, sir. We have had enough messes today. That would have been one more disaster.”
She was still pissed off about the questions, but forced a smile at Tony.
“Ma’am. I heard your comments. You mentioned me. I’m Tony Guido. Purple Heart and Silver Star.”
“Oh, yes. Tony Guido. My staff did the research, and I read your file. You saved the men in your platoon.”
“Yes, ma’am. I had to shoot somebody. For America. But ma’am, I’m here because I have something to tell you. There are more illegals in Three Egg. I don’t know them, but I know who does. She wants to deliver them to you. To keep America safe, and to honor the president.”
“And how can I contact this mysterious woman?”
“Her name is Rosie. She runs the local diner. But ma’am, I need to tell you something in advance.”
Then Tony whispered, “She’s black. But don’t worry, she’s one of the good ones. She supports the president and the Constitution.”
“Well, Mr. Tony Guido. You just might earn another medal. How can I meet this Rosie?”
Tony said, “Well, ma’am, you are the Secretary. Of course you could ride your horse down the street if you want. Nobody’s stopping you from doing that. But Rosie told me the operation should be discreet. You don’t want to tip off the illegals or their abettors in advance. Rosie told me she thinks if you would send the same men as before, she could guide them to the illegals. And ma’am, Rosie makes the best fried chicken!”
“Well, she is black.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Secretary Christ said, “I wouldn’t mind meeting this Rosie. And it would be fun to ride my horse down the street to her diner. Maybe like Lady Godiva.” She winked lasciviously at Tony. “But I think you’re right. It might tip off the illegals. We’ve got to keep our eye on the prize. I already have enough for my commercials, I need to get back to Washington. I’ll have the men come tomorrow, around lunchtime. If the men want to have a meal, that’s up to them. But the important thing is apprehending the rest of the illegals and eradicating any remaining communists. We want to make Three Egg into a positive example for the rest of the country.”
“Yes, ma’am. I agree. Apprehending the rest of the illegals is what’s important. Take our country back,” said Tony. “I’ll tell Rosie to expect the men tomorrow around noon.”
“Wonderful, Mr. Guido. The chief’s name is Sean. And Mr. Guido, thank you so much for your contribution to our country, both during the war and again today. And for warning me about that nasty pile,” she said, looking at the horse shit. She winked again.
“Yes, ma’am,” Tony said as he stood up straight and saluted.
Secretary Christ saluted Tony, mounted her horse, and rode in the direction of the trailer. The whole time they had been talking, the press had been standing around snapping pictures and taking video, along with the Secretary’s video crew. It wouldn’t be long until Tony Guido was all over the internet.
Tony walked into the diner thinking he had blown his cover. Rosie seemed in a good mood. “Mr. Guido. You were quite the operator. You’re all over TV, going viral on the internet, and you got the Secretary of Homeland Security to wink at you twice. All she didn’t do was take her clothes off.”
“Thanks to a pile of horse shit,” said Tony. “Otherwise, I’m not sure I could have gotten close to her. But so much for a clandestine operation. I’m afraid I fucked everything up.”
“Au contraire, white man. I’ve been watching Facts News. You’re already a hero there. Y’all only finished talking fifteen minutes ago and they’re already repeating your quotes. Take our country back. Shoot somebody for America. And my favorite …”
“Rosie’s one of the good ones.” Tony finished Rosie’s sentence for her.
“The important thing Tony, which the whole country heard, is you got her to say her men would be here tomorrow. We are definitely going to give them a special treat.”
Tony sat down in the booth and went over things in his mind. Just this morning he woke up face-to-face with Sophia. Now she was gone along with Fang. Tony thought back to the solitary Egyptian goose.
Nature had gotten it backwards. At the river with Sopha the gander was missing. It should have been the goose. He was thinking of the plan when Margarita walked in.
“May I,” she said, asking to sit down, and did so across from Tony before he replied.
“I gotta hand it to you, Mr. Tony. Flirting with the Secretary of Homeland Security for the cause.”
“Well, what sucks is that this morning we didn’t have a cause. We had Sophia and Fang. Those fucking assholes! Can’t we just go back to the way things were?” Tony started to cry, and Rosie told him to buck up.
“You can’t go soft now, Tony,” she said. “Well, you know what I mean. We got things to do.”
Tony nodded. “So what’s the plan?” asked Margarita. “Can’t tell you,” said Tony. “It’s too heinous. And dangerous. We don’t want you implicated.”
“You can’t even tell me what you’re going to do?”
“No,” said Rosie. “Tony’s right. This job is for me and him. It’s not foolproof but if it works we’re both going to burn in hell. You still have a life to live. Telling you would give you bad karma, even if you weren’t involved.”
“Well, there is something you could do,” said Tony. “Make sure everybody’s out of the buildings on this block. We don’t want any innocent bystanders. Or targets. You might be a target because of your video and association with us. Nobody can predict where this thing is going to go. And there’s one more thing you could do.”
“What’s that?”
“Get Umberto to meet me at the bookstore. I need him to take me to see Mrs. Guidry.”
They all sat for a while not talking until Margarita said, “Well then, I guess I’ll go tell Umberto.”
THE LAST SUPPER
Sean and his men arrived at the diner in the unmarked SUVs promptly at noon. Both sides of the street were lined with people, reporters, and camera crews. The people on the diner street side seemed to all be from out of town. They had signs that said things like “Tony Guido, American Hero. Take our country back. No illegals. Bring back cars to Three Egg.”
The other side of the street was mostly locals. Subtly sarcastic signs like “Murder is bad. Jesus harbored illegals. Mene mene tekel upharsin.”
Most of the agents stood next to the SUVs while Sean and his lieutenant Duane went inside. Tony and Rosie met them at the door. Sean and Duane froze when they saw Rosie. They were both about five foot ten and had to look up to meet her gaze. Her enormous boobs were barely over eye level.
She was wearing a tank top which pretty much left it all hanging out.
Sean started to stammer something, but he was interrupted by Rosie.
“Now I know you gotta protect your identities for the safety of your families, but we’re all on the same team here, so do you men intend to eat at my place wearing your damn masks? And it would be nice to know your names, even if they’re fake. I’ll go first. I’m Rosie and this is my diner. I’m tall and have big boobs. I tend to make a first impression on people that doesn’t go away.”
Rosie extended her hand to shake. Sean extended his hand, then paused to pull down his mask and then stuck his hand out again.
“Oh shucks,” said Rosie, “you’re cute. I think we should hug.” With that, Rosie extended both arms, pulled him into her chest, and lifted him off the ground, so he basically got a face full of boobs.
Then she put him down as he was saying, “I’m Sean. And this here is Duane.” Rosie shook hands with Duane and said, “You two must know this is the honorable Tony Guido. We went to high school together. Tony went directly from high school to serve in Vietnam, and we barely saw each other again for ten years. But we’re best buddies now, because it’s hard to find like-minded people in a radicalized place like Three Egg.”
Tony said, “That’s right. We were bosom buddies in high school. And one thing you can already see about Rosie is that she can dominate a conversation. So if you want to get a word in edgewise, you have to assert yourself.”
Rosie looked disdainfully at Tony, then looked at Sean and Duane and said, “Now normally I would just tell Tony to shut the fuck up when he says something stupid. But today y’all are company and I intend to mind my manners. It looks to me like y’all are twelve people, and I have food for twenty. What do you say we eat some food while I tell you about the illegals?”
“And the communists,” added Tony.
“That sounds great,” said Sean. “But if you don’t mind, we need to look around your diner. Don’t take offense. It’s standard protocol when we go into a new place. If we don’t do it, we’ll be violating our training, and we can get in trouble. Of course we don’t suspect you. But there’s a lot of sneaky people.”
“I don’t mind at all,” said Rosie. “You can’t be too cautious these days. Go right ahead. You can see the kitchen is back there, the bathrooms are off to the side; it’s a pretty small place.”
Sean nodded to Duane, and Duane walked first to the bathrooms and then to the kitchen. Sean just waited with Rosie and Tony. Then Sean asked, “Ma’am? Rosie, I mean, I know it’s impolite to ask a woman’s age, but are you about sixty years old? ’Cuz you could pass for fifty.”
“Well,” said Rosie, “I don’t mind at all. People are always asking me that question. Then I tell them I work out, mostly lift weights. And I try to eat and sleep well. Basically live a good life when I’m not anxious about the communists and the illegals. Now Sean, let me ask you a question. Is your grandmother still alive? How old is she?”
“One grandmother died a couple of years ago, but my other grandmother is seventy-five. Her health isn’t too good. We don’t expect her to be around much longer.”
“Well then, Sean. You could just say I’m your grandmother. I’m seventy-three as you say, going on fifty. So now I’m going to ask you a personal question. How much do you weigh?” Tony rolled his eyes and said, “I’ve seen this movie before.”
“I’m about one hundred and seventy. I try to keep my weight down.”
“Boy, you are puny. I weigh two hundred and fifty. Gained twenty-five pounds since high school lifting weights. All muscle.”
Tony nodded and then said, “Sean, you just set yourself up. Now she wants to show you she can pick you up over her head. Good thing you only weigh one hundred and seventy.”
Sean said, “I think I won’t be surprised if you can do it, but I don’t want you to drop me. We checked and Three Egg doesn’t have a hospital.”
“Ain’t nobody gonna drop you. Come here. Now, one hundred and seventy with a barbell is easy. With a person it’s different. Don’t worry, it’ll be safe. But I need you to cooperate. In high school I used to practice this all the time with the scrawny girls. Tony would help spot.
“Tony will stand behind you and put his hands on your hips. When I pull you up, he’ll guide you so you don’t wobble too much. Now Sean, you need to make yourself stiff as a board. Arms at your sides, feet together, body rigid. If you go limp on me I’ll drop you. You understand?”
“Yes ma’am.”
Duane came out from the back and said, “It’s clear, sir. And damn, this chicken is good. I’m sorry, Miss Rosie. It was just too tempting — this is my second piece.”
“Oh, that’s fine, sugar. I know people can’t resist my fried chicken.”
Sean said, “Okay, Duane, you take my camera and you’re going to make a video. Miss Rosie is gonna pick me up over her head.”
“Shit,” said Duane, taking the phone in his free hand.
“Okay. Don’t flinch.”
Rosie bent her knees, grabbed Sean around the thighs and chest in one motion, and in one explosive pull yanked him up to her shoulders. He was horizontal for about half a second and then she had him at shoulder height, face up, like a barbell. Tony’s hands steadied him from behind.
Then she took a breath and drove him straight up overhead until her arms locked out. She held him there about a second and brought him back down to the ground. Sean was hyperventilating from the rush.
“Holy fucking shit, grandma! How the hell do you do that?”
“Just say it’s magic. And magic actually is a lot of practice. I told you I practiced in high school, and since then I’ve improved my technique. If you watch the video, maybe you can figure it out.”
“Duane, please tell me you got that video,” said Sean. “Yes, sir. Damn, this chicken is good.”
“Tell the men to come on in, and then you can pass the video around.”
When they came in, Sean collectively introduced them to Rosie and Tony after telling them to take off their masks so they wouldn’t be impolite.
Rosie and Tony seated them, four to a booth.
Tony helped Rosie bring the food out. There was fried chicken, not oily. Homemade biscuits and gravy. Steamed spinach. Steamed corn. Cheese grits. Iced tea. They all ate like they hadn’t had real food for weeks.
Rosie told them to save room for pie and ice cream.
Once Rosie and Tony served the dessert, Rosie whispered in Sean’s ear to sit with her in the empty booth in the corner. She had something she wanted to show him.
“Boys,” Sean said, “y’all eat up. Me and Miss Rosie got some business to discuss over there.”
They sat in the booth, and Rosie climbed in right next to Sean. She moved in tight so Sean was mashed against the wall. Then she whispered in his ear, “Nothing turns me on more than a man with a gun. Can I feel your gun?”
And then she stuck her hand down his pants and started to fondle his thing. He was speechless and she leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Once y’all get done with the illegals, come back by yourself. I can put both feet behind my head.”
As much as Sean was aroused, he was trying to reconcile that she was coming on to him in front of his men. And he was also trying to get it through his head that this was a seventy-three-year-old woman. Tony had gone to the door and said, “Looks like there’s a couple of patriots outside who might like to meet you.”
He took two steps outside. Simon was ready with the Molotov cocktails.
He handed one to Tony and Mrs. Guidry was there with the lighter. She lit the first one, and Tony threw it through the open door towards the corner where Rosie was sitting with Sean, boxing him into the booth. In about a second, that whole side of the diner was engulfed in flames, and meanwhile Tony was tossing in the other three. Tony was choking on the smoke. He managed to close the door, and Simon pushed a bench in front of it to block passage. Tony stumbled away before he realized his shirt and pants were on fire. Pretty soon he was screaming as Simon led Mrs. Guidry away from the diner.
Inside, Rosie and all the men were on fire, shrieking. One of the men managed to run to the door, and Rosie stumbled after him and tackled him. By then the whole building was on fire. The entire building had become the dictionary definition of a conflagration. Everybody outside was dumbfounded and slack-jawed. Some people had tried to assist Tony, but it was too late.
His charred body was lying on the sidewalk, and the fire forced the people on the diner side to cross the street and mingle with their antithesis. Everybody became equal in the horror, and had heard Rosie screaming, “Burn in hell, bitches. Burn in goddamn hell.”
That evening Facts News reported the conflagration. “Ladies and gentlemen, with heavy hearts, we bring you this tragic news from Three Egg. This afternoon as a team of our brave agents working in anti-alien espionage were embarking on a new mission, they fell victim to Antifa in a firebomb attack. Sadly, one of the victims was Three Egg’s own patriot and war hero, Tony Guido.”Tony Guido, may you rest in peace. And thank you for your contribution to America.”
CONCLUSION
I (Margarita) had been going over the interviews for days, and even though I knew they were not perfect, I was relatively satisfied with my edits. I had been spending all of my time at the coffee shop. There was no more Pho You, and no more Rosie’s Diner. Initially I had expected to be arrested for taking the video and for my association with Sophia and Tony. The video is still in my possession but I never watched or shared it. It was too cruel. I thought investigators would want Sophia’s phone which is currently in my backpack. But it seems the investigators were not interested in me, quickly arrived at an “official story,” and they considered the incident to be an open and shut case.
Now I’ve read my novel several times. Each time it made me laugh and ultimately cry because of the loss of my friends and the destruction of my town. And now I’m well acquainted with Jimbo. Jimbo told me he hoped I could get the novel published soon, and that very likely the coffee shop would have to cease operation within another week. He had no plans once it did. Every day, we gave each other a lot of moral support for our common loss of friends and community.
Most mornings in the coffee shop, Leo was there with his bicycle, book, and coffee. He never spoke, but made eye contact, and he would smile at us and nod. The families of the agents who were killed in the fire had filed a civil suit against the town of Three Egg for a large sum of money. Occasionally, Bob and Miranda would come in, and they told us the writing was on the wall. Soon, they would leave and start over elsewhere, probably Atlanta. They wouldn’t have to start from zero.
When Bob Sr. had died, prudent by nature he had left Bob Jr. a tidy sum that was invested outside of Three Egg and not related to the firm. It had accrued significantly, and Bob had never touched it. Capitalism!
Later Jimbo said he was happy for Bob and Miranda, but wished his Dad had thought of that. He was going to be broke once the shop closed, with no place to go.
Bob and Miranda knew that I had written a novel which would include their interviews. Out of respect for Sophia, they hoped it could be published. Bob said maybe it was best if I changed their names, but that was up to me. It didn’t occur to him that I had already finished the novel with their names still in it. Miranda said I might as well use their names, because it was fiction so people would assume the names were fake.
Umberto had no long-term plan, and the federal authorities had impounded his car, the police cars, and all of the grocery store vehicles.
Ironically, because of the federal government Three Egg was now totally car-less. So Umberto had gone into the bike shop that had no lock on the door, taken a bike, and mostly hung out with Leo down by the river. Umberto told me once Leo had handed Umberto his Spanish copy of Siddhartha and Umberto had just said, “Gracias, pero no entiendo ni nada. [Thanks, but I don’t understand squat.]” Umberto didn’t become enlightened. But sitting with Leo, he had decided that he would sell the rest of the bicycles on Ebay. Maybe he would become a Fans4fees content creator. The world was his oyster, even though there were no oysters down by the river.
Mrs. Guidry and Simon had been arrested and charged with fourteen counts of murder — the twelve agents plus Rosie and Tony. There were also numerous charges related to domestic terrorism. Tony had been made a martyr by the government and the right-wing press, even though there was ample video evidence to show that along with Mrs. Guidry and Simon, he was a primary instigator. Similarly, Rosie was mourned on right-wing social media as “one of the good ones.”
I did not dare visit Mrs. Guidry. I felt it would make me an easy target as an accomplice. Umberto had initially been taken in for questioning for his role in taking Tony to meet Mrs. Guidry, but he satisfied the investigators that he had no advance knowledge of the fire bombing.
Miranda had been to see her mother. It seemed that Mrs. Guidry was destined to die in jail, either after a trial or waiting for one.
Miranda said that when she visited her mother, Mrs. Guidry had told her she knew what she had done was wrong; that it was premeditated murder. Rosie and Tony had known the risk and were willing to pay the price.
Mrs. Guidry said that Sean definitely deserved his fate. She wasn’t sure about the other eleven men. Maybe they didn’t deserve it, but they certainly had it coming to them. Given the same circumstances she would do it again. She had no regrets and had told her court appointed lawyer she was ready to plead guilty to all fourteen counts.
Her lawyer was trying to talk her out of it. He thought, given her age and past record of public works, that she might be able to get off with a more lenient sentence. Perhaps a life sentence of house arrest. Mrs. Guidry told the lawyer he seemed to be forgetting that In the eyes of the government she was a communist and an antifa, although she was certainly not “an illegal.” The lawyer was at an impasse with her, Miranda told me she didn’t know what was going to happen. A short time after they were charged, it was announced that Simon had taken his own life in his jail cell. When Mrs. Guidry learned this, she said it seemed he was taking the easy way out, but everybody made their own choices.