Safety Net

Exploration

CHAPTER ONE

The Devastation

WEEK BY WEEK, HE COULD FEEL PIECES OF HIM DYING. He could almost see them falling as he walked. The envelope of grief was sealed tight. Driving home from a solo dinner at the golf club his mind wandered to his beautiful Joanna and their Celia.

I am so excited about my new job in Damascus. I can’t believe I landed it so quickly after college!" Celia had exclaimed while they were driving to Chicago O’Hare. Kristopher remembered it was January 2, 2011 and they were traveling on U.S. 45 North.

It will be quite the challenge, Joanna had remarked with hesitancy in her tone. I am glad I am able to go with you to get started. Somehow it feels safer and I want to be able to visualize where you are when I leave you there.

Ladies, I am going to pull into this store and get myself a cup of coffee. Do you want anything? Kristopher asked.

No thanks they said at once. Joanna said, Last time you got coffee at a little corner store, it was terrible coffee. You ended up throwing it away.

Yea, but I’m stopping anyway. Here I come, ROC One Stop. I hope your coffee is good.

What took you so long in there? Joanna asked him as he got back in the car with a cup of coffee in his hand.

Ah, there was this guy in there who started talking to me and he kept going on and on about his job driving a truck delivering potatoes. I just couldn’t get away. He was a nice man said he was going to go home and wait for his girlfriend to visit for the first time. He had met her online and was excited to meet her in person. I gave him a bit of my time. Kristopher remembered saying.

He pulled into the driveway of his home and saw some kids running south down the street. He looked at the house and yard. It was covered in toilet paper, and probably the usual concoction of mayo, syrup, and other gross ingredients plastered to his front door and the mail box. His car screamed to a stop and he opened the door and bellowed, She’s dead and then mumbled you stupid, arrogant, bastards. Slumping back into his seat, he thought about how Joanna had been tormented by the persistent attacks on their home. Youngsters made a regular habit of pranking the house as it was termed during one feeble apology attempt nearly ten years ago. The damn kids were still doing it. The sheriff deputy had even been to homes. Every Saturday night Joanna had ragged sleep stressed about the hours of clean up they might face in the morning.

She coveted her weekends; she did not want to waste them on the problems of others; those needing guidance she was full out of on weekends. He remembered the stress she carried – always - while at the same time loving her work, her kids and colleagues.

His tortured thoughts were broken as he heard a voice near him saying, "Mr. Roberts, I saw it this time and I am going to go on a couple home visits. The time has come. I watched and have identified a few. It was Deputy LaFrane. He had patrolled Joanna’s school and the neighborhood he and Joanna called home.

You look terrible. Go on in and get some rest. I’ll take care of the damage. When you wake up in the morning, it will be all cleaned up. Somebody is going to be very busy tonight, Deputy LaFrane stated with sympathy and determination in his voice.

Thank you so much. Joanna would have been very grateful and so am I. Thank you so much. Kristopher hung his head.

No problem. Go on in and get some rest. Take care, Mr. Roberts. I am deeply sorry about what happened to Joanna and Celia.

The pieces were falling again. Kristopher started the Expedition and pulled into the garage and pushed the remote to close the door.

During the previous year, Joanna’s school district had been taken over taken by Olsen and Regale, a conglomerate that moved in on financially struggling school districts. They assigned a site manager. His team had promised that employees would be keeping their jobs. During a conversation between the manager and Joanna, she heard the words too loyal to the teachers and out-spoken. She read the writing on the wall and resigned. She was devastated to leave her career. She had held a prideful and accomplished record for decades.

Rumors around the district indicated that Manchester Enterprises was the holding company for Olsen and Regale. They had money and the district needed it sorely. The once proud and independent school district now belonged to big oil. Staff knew they were looking at other area districts to pull into its control.

After her resignation, Kristopher and Joanna had decided that she would accompany Celia on the trip to Damascus where Celia would serve as an interpreter for the U.S. consulate. This was a huge change for the family. Celia was going directly into an area of imminent danger. There was hope that the trip would help Joanna think about something other than her work. The timing had been painful yet somehow perfect as neither Kristopher nor Joanna could visualize Celia going off on her own especially to a country full of unrest and turmoil. Celia was determined to make a difference and Joanna was determined to protect her. Joanna always carried a fierce and protective devotion for Celia.

The car bombing of the consulate compound on March 7 took the lives of 32 people including Joanna and Celia Roberts.

CHAPTER TWO

The Determination

KRISTOPHER FUMBLED WITH HIS KEYS, OPENED THE door and entered the dark room. He knew the house by heart and didn’t need a light to guide him. This had been his family’s home for the past 22 years.

In the family room, he found the remote and turned on the TV. The evening news was on with Bernard Lewis and Kristopher was a regular viewer. More terrorist attacks. This time in London. Last week in Windsor. Week before in Paris. Kristopher thought it had been going on forever and it would continue. It had been New York years ago. Damascus took his wife and daughter.

Rage began to build in him. What could he do? How could he stop this? Right, he thought, little old you – humble, quiet Kristopher." He knew he was mocking himself. His rage grew more intense. There had to be something done about it, and it had to be huge. This was his thinking during frequent news reports. The terrorist machine had to be stopped.

His thoughts continued. Somehow we need an equalizer to combat the machine. Machine vs. machine. My machine would need to come with some sort of safety net to protect people. It had to be a huge net for a huge number of people. How could he help construct such a net?

Silly, he said aloud, I live on our pensions now. He knew he would be getting a large life insurance check for Joanna from her job. She was still under the health and life insurance from the district when she went to Damascus. He tried to remember the amount was it $500,000? He couldn’t recall.

He started to drift off. He was tired, bone tired. Too much. Too much grief. Too much rage. He walked upstairs and lay down in his empty bed. Sleep gave him a brief reprieve.

As he awoke the next morning, he knew that somehow he would find his answer. Somehow, he would be able to develop a plan. That is how plans come about. Some John Doe gets an idea and makes it happen. I can be that John Doe. I, Kristopher Roberts.

He made some coffee and grabbed his phone and began to look at the day’s news. He decided to do a google search on what protectionism meant. He remembered it from a college political science class he had. He found that his memory served him well. It called for restrictions on international trade, but also indicated that free trade agreements were more favorable. He knew from his life experiences since college that free trade can also bring about a weakened economy due to cheaper labor offered by foreign alliances.

He thought, I need to pursue a unification; I need to expand the U.S. so there would be sufficient employment opportunities and so that all of our import needs can be expunged. Yes, he thought ‘a unification’ free from terror and full of opportunities protected by our own military might right here at home. A unification would bring a huge market for all kinds of economic growth; we could work collectively as a whole to protect our borders. We wouldn’t need the rest of the world." His head was spinning with the possibility. No more immigration, no more international travel, no more terrorism in a huge portion of the world. He felt overwhelmed by the thought of it.

How could one man get it started? He pondered this as he walked to the mailbox to get his mail. He remembered it was Sunday and that he hadn’t gotten the mail yesterday. It had probably been destroyed by the vandalism. The mailbox was clean – actually, the whole yard was clean – just as Deputy LaFrane had said it would be. Ha! He said right out loud. I hope Joanna is laughing too.

He opened the box and there was one letter in it from Mutual Life Insurance. It had to be the check. As he was walking back up the driveway to the front door, he opened the envelope. The check was for $700,000. He thought, whole lot of money and a whole lot of grief. He felt a piece of himself fall to the welcome mat.

CHAPTER THREE

The Development

ON MONDAY MORNING, KRISTOPHER GATHERED HIS wallet, phone and keys and hopped in the Expedition. It was time to deposit this check, the blood check that would become his starting fund to begin building his plan. He drove to the credit union and took a place in line.

Good morning, Mr. Roberts. It is nice to see you today. How may I help you?

I need to deposit this check. I just sign the back, right?"

For this amount and since it is a life insurance distribution, I will need to place your driver’s license number on the back. May I have your license?

Surely. He pulled his wallet from his coat pocket and removed the license. As the teller was processing the check, Kristopher noticed a lottery ticket in his wallet. He removed it and a flash came over him as he recalled the guy from ROC One Stop Market who had said it was his lucky day and that he was buying a ticket and he pressed Kristopher to do the same. The ticket had been in his wallet all this time. Nearly a year. He had forgotten about it.

After the check was deposited – he didn’t care at the moment that it was just in a money market savings plan - he would determine later how to invest it. It was the final piece of paper, the final letter from Joanna.

He walked blindly to his car and sat down. Now what. He thought back to the lottery ticket he had found and pulled it once again from his wallet. The numbers were 45, 21, 19, 53, 32 and 43. It was dated Jan. 2, 2011. He began to wonder how long the life of a lottery ticket was. He pulled out his phone and pressed the google search and said into the speaker: Lottery ticket.

He found that tickets were effective for one year from the purchase date. The date was Jan. 2, 2011. What is today’s date, he wondered? Sometimes he lost track of dates as he no longer worked outside the home. Before retiring he worked in sales and engineering for a few automotive related companies. The life had been good. Between his income and Joanna’s, they had made a good life for themselves and for Celia. Enough for Celia to attend Yale and earn the degree that would take her far away, never to return.

He looked at the date on his phone. It was August 25, 2011. He smiled as he realized that he had some time to ponder the things he could do if this was a winning lottery ticket. Then he laughed aloud as he had never bought a lottery ticket in his life. That guy from the store in Illinois had convinced him it was a lucky day. He had succumbed to the idea and bought this one ticket and shoved it into his wallet and quickly forgot about it. People like him did not play the lottery and they certainly didn’t win. He started the car and drove home. Once he arrived he had that familiar thought – here I am and I can’t think how I got here – force of habit.

He went inside realizing he was starved. He had to remind himself to eat. His mind was always racing and it usually wasn’t about food. He got an English muffin and some strawberry jam from the frige. He pulled the toaster from the cupboard. The muffin halves went in and he pushed the lever down. Joanna had always insisted the counter top be clean and free of clutter. He kept to that plan only leaving out the banana bowl and the coffee pot. Every other kitchen device was stored in cupboards. Old, but dear habits.

Kristopher grabbed a glass and poured himself some milk. He sat down at the glass bar table they had purchased about 10 years ago when they remodeled the kitchen. With his milk and his muffin on the table in front of him, he pulled his laptop closer and turned it on. He ate as it powered up.

He pulled his wallet from his pocket, put on his reading glasses and did a search for winning lottery numbers. There in front of him on the screen he could read the last twelve months’ worth of winning numbers. He looked at the date of his ticket – Jan. 2, 2011. He scanned for that date and read the numbers 45, 21, 19, 53, 32, 43.

Unbelievable! He checked the site and his ticket again and then one more time. He was a lottery winner. How strange the many ways that fate works. This is totally freakin unbelievable, he said right out loud. Kristopher Roberts had won the lottery. Now what was he to do? First, keep it quiet. He had some time before the ticket expired to make his claim.

Like a burst of sunshine through a nearly closed window blind, it struck him. He had to talk to the man from the market who had insisted that he buy his one and only lottery ticket. The distance between them was about a 10-hour drive. Was he a regular there? It sure seemed that way. He remembered the way the guy had pulled up in his white pickup truck on the side street by the corner store. He could remember what he looked like. He was as tall as Kristopher – over six foot with a thick head of gray hair. He had been wearing jeans and a brown cargo jacket. Why hadn’t he shaken hands and asked his name? There had to be a way to find him.

He remembered Joanna’s fantasy that day as they drove about 15 minutes from the store. ‘How’s the coffee,’ she had asked. He told her that she was right, it was not good. But he drank it anyway.

Suddenly, a car heading south back toward the store on the other side of the highway caught their eyes. They saw a small white two door sedan crash into the metal guard rail. It was raining and the white car’s windshield wipers kept flipping back and forth. No one in the car got out. Other drivers began to stop. Those who stopped were on the same side of the highway as the crash. Joanna had said that she guessed they did not need to stop since there were three others stopping to help.

After a few minutes, Joanna had said, I bet that was the woman headed to meet the man who talked to you in the store. It was just a feeling she had. Joanna surprised him often during their marriage with her sometimes uncanny insightfulness. Maybe it could be the start of a book I will write someday, she had said.

They had dropped the subject and drove on to O’Hare airport.

This memory, coupled with the winning ticket and the strong urge to talk to that man filled Kristopher with a sense of urgency. He needed to find him. The store where they met had to have a telephone.

CHAPTER 4

The Direction

KRISTOPHER FOUND ROC ONE STOP IN VIENNA, Illinois by searching online. He entered the number into his phone and it rang three times before a woman announced Good afternoon, ROC One Stop. Kristopher’s mind nearly went blank and she said Hello?

Yes, yes, my name is Kristopher Roberts. I was in your store on Jan. 2 in the morning around 8:00. I bought a lottery ticket and I talked with another customer who said he drove a potato truck. He drove a white pickup and bought coffee and a lottery ticket, too. He seemed like a regular. Is there a way you could give me his name or get my telephone number to him so that he can call me, please? Please, this is very important. He said he was going home to meet his girlfriend from the internet for the first time.

Hesitantly, the woman said my name is Marge and I am pretty sure you are talking about John, John Stevens. He is a regular and comes in most mornings to buy coffee and a lottery ticket.

Could you please give him my number?

Again, hesitantly she said yes, what is your number, sir?

He stated his cell number slowly. Do you need me to repeat that? She had said no and that the next time she saw John she would give him the information.

Thank you so much, Marge. They hung up.

Now for the waiting.

Kristopher thought that he could pass some of the time by contacting the local Vienna state police to inquire about the accident that he, Joanna and Celia had seen on Jan. 2, 2011. He found their number and dialed. A man answered: Vienna state police post.

Hello, my name is Kristopher Roberts and on January 2 my wife, daughter and I were driving north on U.S. 45 and we saw an accident on the southbound highway at about 8:00 in the morning. It was a white sedan, it was raining heavily and it looked serious. Is there any way you can tell me what happened?

Let me check our records. Why are you asking?

My wife had a strange feeling that the driver was somehow connected to a friend of ours. He may not know what happened as he was waiting to meet someone for the first time.

Well, didn’t he tell you anything?

No. I haven’t seen him since. It is just a feeling. Can’t you please tell me if it was a female and if she survived? Please, this means a great deal.

Ah, here is the information. It was a female named Annur Iman. She died in the accident. It was also discovered that she was transporting three pipe bombs. They had to be dismantled at the scene. It clogged up the highway for several hours. It was all over the news.

I must have missed that. Oh, my god. Thank you. To himself, he mumbled a terrorist from the internet traveling to do some evil in the heartland. Thank you, again.

Kristopher’s mind was racing. Could it be possible that Joanna’s intuition was right? She had been spot on so many other times before. She was a very perceptive person. Really, this is ridiculous. What can you be thinking? Sometimes, you have to go on instinct. That is what Joanna would have done. I know what I saw and I know what Joanna said. I am going to go out on a limb, break away from what seems rational and conservative. I have got to talk to John Stevens!

Three mornings later while Kristopher was shaving, fresh out of the shower, his cell phone rang. It hadn’t rung in days. Who was there to call him?

He stopped shaving, took a towel to his face and raced to his phone. Hello, Kristopher speaking.

Hello, this is John Stevens. Marge from ROC One Stop gave me your number. What can I help you with? She seemed as though you were intense and in a hurry to reach me.

Hello, John. Yes, I do want to talk to you. Do you remember me?

Vaguely, I think we both bought lottery tickets. I recall you were hesitant. What’s up?

Well, John, I would like to meet with you. I think I have some important things to tell you. When can we meet? When are you free?

What do you mean you want to meet with me? This is very presumptuous. How do I know you are not some kind of loon bin?

Did I seem that way when you kept me in the store rambling on and on? I remember being sensitive to your need. I listened to you. I did not brush you off.

That is true. I remember now that you were a pleasant man, willing to stop and engage.

I am not a loon bin. I have important things to share with you. Let me ask you one question: Did your internet girlfriend ever show up?

No, she did not.

I know why. I want to meet with you. I promise you will not be disappointed.

OK, I guess.

How about if we meet at Louisville in Kentucky at the first rest stop off I 71. It will be about a five-hour drive for both of us. I drive a black Expedition and I recall you drive a white pickup truck.

OK. Good memory.

Let’s both leave our homes at 6:00 tomorrow morning. I promise it will be a meeting that we both want to have. We have more in common than you think.

OK. I admit that I am intrigued.

I will see you there. Watch for my vehicle at about 11:00 and I will watch for yours.

OK. I will be there. There is nothing to lose. A nice drive will be relaxing.

Yes, for both of us. See you then. You have my phone number in case you change your mind.

I will be there.

They hung up. Kristopher breathed a sigh of relief that was also churned with disbelief.

He sat down in his favorite chair, found the remote and turned on the news with Bernard Lewis. There it was again, more tragedy. Another beheading in the Middle East. More and more his plan was imperative. A Japanese and another American. They did it with reckless abandon. They had the upper hand. Because they could hide. This must be stopped.

Tomorrow will bring the beginning of his revenge. He would meet with John Stevens whom he felt certain would become a partner. He just felt it. Just like Joanna had felt many things including the car accident.

As usual, he fell into a fitful sleep. He dreamed of taking Joanna and Celia to Grand Rivers, Kentucky to meet Celia’s boyfriend and his family. Wesley Wayne was an engineer working for a tech company specializing in coal recovery and transport. Kristopher couldn’t recall the name right now. He knew Wesley to be a fine, down to earth man who had loved his daughter very much. They decided that Celia would work in Damascus for a few years and then return and they would marry. She had decided that the time apart would enable them to grow in their careers and then provide them with options in the U.S. She would teach and he would continue his career. They had talked of children and it was obvious that they were a couple full of much promise.

They both had much to offer to each other and their future. There was no way they would be separated forever. Until Damascus.

Kristopher hadn’t talked to Wesley since the funeral for both Joanna and Celia. Everyone was devastated. That talk would come soon. Kristopher needed Wesley to bring his own revenge to the table and help with the fight. Too much had been lost needlessly. It had to be stopped.

Kristopher would contact Wesley when he was nearby and arrange to meet him after he met with John Stevens. There is much to be said about strength in numbers and a common revenge.

As he faded into sleep, Kristopher saw Celia and Wesley holding hands with Joanna and himself at their side. It was a beautiful half dream that often comforted him as he tried to drift into some sort of sweet sleep.

His sleep was restful maybe for the first time in many months. I am ready. I am ready, I am ready he said to his mind’s eye like counting sheep that he could not see. He drifted away.

His alarm went off at 5:00 AM. He jumped from bed with a keen eye for revenge.

CHAPTER 5

The Decision

THE DRIVE FROM HIS AUSTIN HOME THROUGH Detroit was easy at that hour of the morning. It was a bright, sunny day to drive. The radio brought him breaking news about a bombing in a Tunisian museum killing 21. This just added more fuel for his plan. He thought about how he was going to explain things to John. He couldn’t believe the ironies in life and how his meeting this man had brought him hope, opportunity and reason for them to join forces.

It was 10:45 as Kristopher eased into the parking lot of the rest stop. He looked around and did not see a white pickup truck. Just then his phone rang. It was John.

Just letting you know that I am almost there. Maybe we should decide on a restaurant where we can meet so we can relax, eat and talk.

That sounds great. I am not too familiar with restaurants around here. Are you?

Yea, I got a couple ideas. I used to travel through here quite a bit. We’ll decide when I get there.

It wasn’t long before Kristopher watched a white Ford pickup truck ease its way toward him and then park right next to him. Both men got out of their cars, walked to the front of them and shook hands.

It is good to see you, John. Thank you for agreeing to meet me.

Yes. You have me very interested. I have selected a restaurant in Louisville for us to eat. We can both drive. There is a Marriott nearby in case we need to rest after what may be a long conversation. From your intensity on the phone, I assume you have lots to discuss.

Both men got in their vehicles and