Will James 8?
Will James 8?
The following is the forward to the new Will James book I’m working on - no title yet, the working title is Will James 8.
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Thursday, June 6, 2041, 8:09 a.m. Eleanor Roosevelt Park Chaumont, New York
Through the trees, he could see the graduates, fidgeting in their seats, roasting under the hot sun, in their dark green caps and gowns.
He was delighted to see such a large and disorganized crowd trying to enter the north side of Eleanor Roosevelt Park. This is going to be far more fun and a lot easier than I thought.
High school graduations can be chaotic, and this was no different. Family pride was the focus of the moment, it looked like even the younger siblings seemed to be orderly and in good spirits.
He smiled to himself, Cherish these wonderful moments, little ones.
There was a mix of old and young waiting to get through the security checkpoint and on to their seats. Each hoped that when they finally got to their seat there might be some breeze and shade to greet them.
The security checkpoint consisted of a temporary walk-through metal detector, a small bag check table, and two young volunteers, one on each side of the rented setup.
The line seemed to be moving at a snail’s pace, but with the small bomb explosion the previous month at the Gentle Touch of Garlic restaurant in nearby Connecticut, no one was about to complain. If asked, they would all say that it was better to be safe than sorry.
He pulled out a small mirror and checked the prosthetics he had so carefully applied earlier that morning. He closed the mirror, slipped it into the satchel, removed the collapsible cane, adjusted his skirt, then slowly walked toward the line now with a noticeable limp. She got in line, others motioned that she could go ahead of them, and she did. Leaning heavily on the weathered cane, while letting out small groans, she gradually made her way to the front of the line.
She waited patiently, avoiding small talk with anyone either in front or behind.
When it was her turn, she smiled and slowly put her spacious satchel, wide-brimmed hat, and cell phone on the small table, dug into her pockets, and pulled out some coins, a small key ring, and almost as an afterthought, a pair of glasses, carefully spacing each item several inches away from the other. She then put a small takeaway paper bag on the table. It had a white braided rope handle and the recognizable logo of one of the most prestigious local restaurants embossed on each of the four sides of the bag.
The old woman walked through the arch and then turned to retrieve her belongings.
The boy at the table asked, “What’s in the paper bag?”
The woman smiled, “It’s a bribe for my granddaughter. She used to hang on my every word, but now she’s too busy for her old Gram. It’s her favorite maple walnut brownies – if these don’t get a big hug, I give up. They sure cost enough.”
“I’m so sorry,” the young man said, “all kinds of food will be sold in the park this morning, and so we can’t permit any outside food or drink to enter the park during the graduation ceremony.”
The old woman looked crushed. “Can I leave them with you for safekeeping and pick them up after the ceremonies?” she asked.
“I’m so sorry, ma’am. I will have to throw them in that barrel behind me.”
“All I have to live on is my social security check, young man. This small bag of goodies cost me plenty. The big bow and greeting card alone set me back more than ten dollars.”
“I’m really sorry,” the young man said again as he pointed to a sign on the table.
“Our instructions are to confiscate any food or drink and toss it,” the other young man said.
Some of the other guests in line behind the old woman began to argue with the security guards – “Let her keep her brownies – what harm could it do?”
One woman several people back in the line mumbled, “The kids probably want the brownies for themselves.”
The two boys talked briefly among themselves, then the first boy looked around sheepishly, picked up the bag, looked inside quickly, and handed it to the woman.
As the woman slowly walked towards the rows of neatly positioned collapsible chairs, she paused by a row of rubbish containers and slowly glanced around.
With one hand inside the paper bag, she untied the bow, lifted the cover of the box inside, crushed one of the brownies and palmed something from among the pieces, slipped it into her pocket, and tossed the now uncovered box with the brownies into the first can.
She passed up the next can and crumpled the card and threw it and the box cover into a different receptacle. Then the ribbon into another.
She stood by a back-row chair, still in a sparsely populated section, took off her jacket, turned it inside out and draped it over the back of a chair. Sat down and casually surveyed the area.
With a self-satisfying smile, she collapsed the cane, placed it inside the satchel, then took the small item from her pocket, placed it on her lap, broke off both temples of her glasses, fastened them to the small item, and firmly stuck it all under her seat.
Glancing around one last time, she discreetly pretended to blow her nose into a huge handkerchief using the motion to covertly remove the prosthetic attachment. With practiced ease, she slipped it into her pocket without drawing any attention. She stood up, took off her hat, crushed it, stuffed it into the satchel, draped it over her shoulder, then lifted her jacket, draped it over her arm, and briskly walked out of the park.
He never doubted for a moment that he would accomplish his task and get away free and clear. There was no room in his head for failure. Failure was for losers, I ain’t no loser.
