B.B.U.S.A. (Buying Back the United States of America) (9 page)

The noticeably uncomfortable and highly-embarrassed waitress apologized for insulting Leo. All the while the nervous waitress explained the rash of vagrants not being able to pay for their orders; she was making wide gestures with her hands. He felt as if he were in a strange time warp, trapped in an old silent film watching the actress act out her lines with hand signs. He was relieved when the short movie ended abruptly and the long winded apology came to a close. “I’ll have your milk and paper right out, sir.”

Leo nodded, trying not to show his impatience. He knew that he would be in a much better mood after he ate and had a few minutes off his now-throbbing left foot. He hoped that he could quickly follow through with his plans and escape the city before his pursuers caught up to him. He looked at his watch and decided that Sarah and the kids would probably be leaving Boise soon. As per their previous arrangements, he would call Sarah at her father’s home this evening and update her on what happened. He hoped that she and the boys were not encountering any resistance from the B.B.U.S.A. He did not expect that they would have any problems as of yet, since Bob and his grunts were chasing him around instead. Although he knew that Bob was in charge of the B.B.U.S.A. in the west, the very nature of the organization was fairly small and discreet with limited human resources.

The waitress returned with his milk and paper. “Do you need anything else, sir?”

“May I please borrow a pen?” he asked, forcing a smile.

The waitress handed him one of the dozen or so multi colored pens she had clasped to her apron. “Keep it; as you can clearly see, I have plenty of them.”

He thanked her again and picked up the glass of milk as the waitress retreated to help other customers. The milk tasted cool and refreshing. He drank the entire glass before returning it to the table. Leo opened the paper directly to the classified section and began circling automobile ads.

The car salesman and dealer ads were easy to spot and eliminate, as they almost always had either a dealer invoice number, or the car vin number included in the ad, and of course they never ended with “OBO.” The waitress returned with his omelet and asked if he needed another glass of milk. He readily accepted.

Leo glanced up at the now departing waitress and actually felt sorry for her. She was past her prime. Her age was beginning to show in the lines around and under her eyes. She was too heavy to fit comfortably in her uniform. A faint smile tugged at the edges of his mouth as he thought about her uniform. He decided she actually looked pretty ridiculous in it. She bulged slightly outward where her waist should have curved inward. Her heavy breasts caused the pair of doughnuts on the front of her uniform T-shirt to stretch downward, to the point that one might imagine she worked at a hot dog stand, rather than at a breakfast cafe. As she stood at the milk machine waiting to fill his glass, Leo noticed the varicose veins on her slightly swollen legs showing through the nude stockings. He tried to imagine what she had looked like a decade earlier. She probably once had great muscle tone and a fine slender figure. He concluded she undoubtedly once made men’s heads turn in appreciation.

She brought the milk to him and smiled. “It looks like you have had a rough day. You know what they say about milk? It does a body good! Of course I wish it still worked for me. Unfortunately, nowadays, milk simply coats my bones with a little extra padding.” She chuckled. “Anything else?”

Leo really wasn’t in the mood for idle conversation, nor did he know how to appropriately respond to her earlier statement about the milk. “I too have seen better days.”

As the waitress began to turn and walk off, he engaged her in conversation after all, like an afterthought, or like someone who was just a little slow at catching the punch line to a joke. “Do you know of any quality motels nearby, that might also have a Jacuzzi? I could sure use a little rest and relaxation and soak my aching body.”

He already knew the answer to his question but decided to weave as many false leads as possible should his pursuers come looking for him. The initial response was however, not what he had anticipated. The waitress must have misunderstood his intentions and blushed deeply. “Young man, my days of idle frolicking are in the past!” she spat.

Judging from the shocked look on his face, she now realized that she had just struck out a second time, by totally misunderstanding the man she had earlier mistaken for a vagrant. Both were now noticeably blushing.

Leo spoke first. “You thought that I wanted to take you to a motel?”

“Well, stranger things than that have occurred to me in my life. Again, I am sorry sir. I hope you won’t find it necessary to tell the manager what a stooge I’ve been today?”

“No, Ma’am, no need for that at all. Now, let’s get back to the location of a motel.”

The waitress let out a little giggle.

“Do you know of a good motel nearby?” he ventured again.

“Yes, sir. A few blocks down the road they just opened a new Best Western where the old city baseball diamonds used to be. I think they probably have a swimming pool and a hot tub.”

“Thanks for the information. That sounds perfect. I can’t wait to soak in a Jacuzzi tub. I’m simply dreading leaving on an Amtrak train all the way to Chicago later this afternoon. I feel like I need to just have a good relaxing soak, shower, shave and then maybe I’ll survive a fifty hour train ride.” She listened attentively, then nodded and responded to a man sitting up at the front counter indicating that he was ready for a refill on his coffee.

The omelet was tasty. The protein would help restore his muscles. He went back to circling classified ads.

Suddenly, a loud clatter and a thud at the front door of the coffee shop caused Leo’s heart to skip a beat. A clumsy young man tripped over the door mat and slammed his shoulder against the front door, which in turn caused the old doorbell to ring loudly. The young man, who had attracted the attention of the entire coffee shop, apologized, then hurriedly departed the coffee shop, narrowly missing an unloading sign on the edge of side walk in front of the diner.

Leo took his eyes off the entrance and let out a sigh of relief, then inhaled a deep breath of doughnut scented air. He placed the pen in the inside pocket of his jacket for later use, then folded the classified section in half and neatly ripped out the part with the circled ads. He folded it into a bill-fold size and placed it inside his jacket pocket with the pen. Next he glanced around the diner making sure no one was watching him, and carefully removed five wads of bills from the zippered side pocket of the duffel bag and placed the money with his pen. He figured it might be to his advantage to have some money on him, should he ever be separated from the duffel bag.

He drank the last big swallow of cold chocolate milk. Leo swirled it in his mouth as if tasting a fine wine, and when fully satisfied, swallowed, savoring it to the last drop.

He gently eased out of the booth, babying his left foot. He slung the Oregon Ducks bag over his right shoulder and headed for the door, but was intercepted by the waitress who had noticed his attempted departure, and handed him his check. “The fifty on the table should cover the check and your tip,” he said.

The waitress glanced back at the table, smiled, and apologized for the third time. “You’re a good man. Thank you for your patience with me today.” Her big smile revealed a couple of missing molars, and Leo felt good about leaving the large tip, even though she had at first, had him on the defensive side.

He nodded, and carefully stepped over the still rumpled-up door mat, then bent down and straightened it out, and faced the waitress. “Good day.” He opened the door slowly so that the bell didn’t ring loudly and headed down the street towards the motel, cautiously eyeing pedestrians and passing motorists. He once again felt somewhat vulnerable.

Leo’s thoughts wandered back to the vagrant, and the over-the-hill waitress at the coffee shop. He hoped that one day he could still fulfill his dream when the current predicament was finally over. He had dreamed of being able to have enough money to help less fortunate individuals anonymously. There were so many hardworking deserving people that just needed that little break or financial help to get back on their feet. Leo envisioned himself being like a Santa Claus of sorts, traveling the country seeking deserving people to help. Perhaps it was just a silly pipe dream, but one he surely wanted to fulfill just the same.

Leo and Sarah had been making good money over the past decade, and had enough of a nest egg put away that they had already helped a couple of people locally. It was Sarah, who heard of a lady and her two children that were struggling financially when her husband got laid off. She had been laid off the year before due to her fibromyalgia.

One day, Sarah had made two loafs of banana bread and a stew in the crock pot. She wrapped all the food up in a picnic basket and even added Leo’s fresh bouquet of carnations that he’d given her the day before. She then completed the basket by placing five one-hundred-dollar bills in an envelope with a computer generated card. “Please accept this gift, and pass it on to another when the time is right. God bless!”

Leo had planned on doing things like that, but Sarah had been the first to act on it. After that, Leo and Sarah listened, discussed, and planned one such event each month. They gained great pleasure in scheming and planning anonymous gifts for deserving people.

He thought about the waitress in the coffee shop. He remembered seeing a ring on her right hand, but no rings on her left, just the slight indention on her left ring finger, suggesting that finger had held a ring for a good many years. Perhaps she had suffered the loss of a spouse and had been forced to wait tables for a living. Leo would have loved to have had more time to visit with her. He would have enjoyed hearing about her life, her dreams, trials, and tribulations. Perhaps someday, he would be able to return to place her on his Santa Claus list.

He passed a covered bus stop with a bench and two large, waist-high potted plant arrangements on either side of the bench. Leo was attracted to the flowers as both were filled with multicolored carnations. Although Sarah enjoyed receiving roses from Leo, she much preferred the cheaper carnations, as they lasted much longer, and still had a sweet, pleasing aroma. He always bought Sarah a bouquet of carnations at least once a month. He paused, admiring the healthy plants and breathing in the slightly sweeter scent of the air surrounding the very clean well-kept public bus stop.

Perhaps, against his better judgment, he decided to sit at the shady end of the bench and call the circled ads in his pocket. Leo took in his surroundings, but did not see anything suspicious or out of the ordinary, so removed his cell phone and the classified ads from his breast pocket. Momentarily, he contemplated the possible ramifications from turning on his cell phone. He was aware that phones could be traced but reasoned that the B.B.U.S.A. could not have had sufficient time to track his cell phone as of yet. Just the same, he figured he should be as brief as possible. He turned it on and dialed the first number. After the seventh ring he disconnected the call and moved on to the second ad. This time a lady answered on the fourth ring.

He explained that he was calling about the maroon 1997 Pontiac Grand Am advertised in the newspaper. She said that the vehicle was still available, and readily gave out her address so that he could come look at the car if he so desired. She furthermore stated that she had been recently divorced and left with house and car payments as well as daycare for her three-year-old daughter. She mentioned that she was already a month behind on most of her payments and that she simply had to sell her car to catch up on her bills. She explained how difficult it was for a single parent to raise a daughter, work all the time, and still make all the ends meet.

He realized that she did not possess clear title on her car and since he was only interested in a cash transaction with a title in the possession of the seller, he would not be interested in her car. He thanked her for the information but felt compelled to add a warning as well. “Ma’am, I know it’s none of my business, but just a word to the wise, please don’t give your address out to any stranger calling on your car ad. You might want to meet prospective buyers at a crowded parking lot, for the safety of you and your daughter.”

The woman had never thought about not divulging her address so freely, and sincerely thanked him for the advice. He ended the call, glanced around him once more, checked his watch to see how long the call had lasted, and somewhat nervously called the third ad.

Just when he expected to hear an answering machine a thick burly voice answered the phone. “Sam speaking.”

“Hi Sam; my name is Mr. Fullmer, and I’m calling in regards to your 1998 Mazda Mx3 advertised in the newspaper. Is it still available?”

“Oh yes!” the man answered exuberantly. He too started spilling his guts: about how he had bought each of his four daughters a car upon graduating from high school, but how his dental practice had seen some hard times since a new complex with six dentists and an orthodontist moved in a few blocks away. Three daughters had already completed college, but his youngest daughter was now forced to sell her car to help pay for her senior year. As Leo politely listened to Sam’s hard-luck case and how his wife had died from a car accident after two months in a coma, he was secretly placing the details of Sam’s life on the back burners of his needy list.