Book Five - Part Ten - Ending Evil: Chapter Seven
Tammy’s Ice-Cream Delights
922 State Street – 3:29 p.m.
Just three doors up from Melodies If You Please, Tammy Seville started closing up for the day. Ice-cream in winter? Yes, and it worked out well for Tammy, better than she even expected. What made her store intriguing to her customers, her different variations of ice-cream which were found to be far different than what you would find in the grocery stores or even Baskin-Robbins for that matter.
She made all of her own ice-cream she sold in either cups or cones, pints, quarts, half-gallon, and gallon containers in 99 unusual flavors. It took her a few weeks to get the first batch ready and another two weeks to train her help. But she had the room. Two large walk-in freezers and six freezer-mixers to work with. Now that she was ahead of the game, if necessary, in one day she could actually churn out three-hundred gallons of ice-cream in all 99 flavors without batting an eye. Of course, having three employees make it easier.
Besides her ice-cream, Tammy also made and sold ice-cream cookies and cakes, ice-cream floats, sundaes, and her specialty: ice-cream cakes for birthday parties that she would sculpture to look exactly like the person having the birthday.
Being an artist, she saw her opportunity to take a dessert she enjoyed (5’1, 225), and bring it to a new and fun level. Montie, her hometown, Tammy felt it was the best place for her to set up shop.
She had sold a few of her paintings at a gallery in Spain last year that gave her some recognition and then managed to land another art gallery showing in Boston that earned her even more money.
She took that money she earned, along with her life savings and is living a dream she’s chased for fifteen years. Ice-cream Designer. Go figure.
With everything cleaned up, it was time for her to drive her van over to the Arena. She had five hundred gallons of ice-cream in the back, and it would all be given away free, in part of the celebration of the Pythoners going after the state championship again.
All in all, Tammy felt like she was on top of the world.
It felt good to be back home.
Getting inside her van to drive off, she quickly looked up at a pale blue sky that would soon be crept upon by darkness and whispered, “I made it, mom, and dad. I love you both.”
Montie Arena – 4:00 p.m.
The noise level inside the Arena would put most NFL stadiums to shame. Each time Coach Claymoore announced a team member’s name, the decimal level only increased.
Each time a player came to the podium to say a few words, the high-school band would play, “We Are Family” or “We Will Rock You”. Channel 08 Sports were on hand for interviews after each player spoke, and even NBC, ABC and ESPN were there, of which the latter was a surprise. It had become an adventure none of the players would ever forget.
Then came Coach Claymoore’s final introduction.
“This next young man, my goodness, what can I say? He has been through more adversity than any young man should ever have to face and endure, but by God … he did.
“I don’t think anyone in this Arena right now would have given him half a chance to be where he is today. But honestly, the way he thinks, the way he acts, I believe he would just shrug his shoulders and say, you’re wrong, just watch me.
“Okay, enough praise for this young man. Come up here, Stevie. Stevie Baker, ladies, and gentlemen!”
It took better than twenty minutes before quiet finally took control and Stevie spoke.
“Thanks, Coach, for the kind words. Outside of my mother and stepfather, your words, your expressions mean a lot to me. Without you, we wouldn’t have gotten as far as we have.”
The whistles, handclapping and yelling cranked up another notch for a few minutes. Stevie raised his hands. The crowd quieted down.
“Just like Dale and Ron, Carl, and Pete, and all the rest of the guys said, we are a team. We play to keep it together. We play because we enjoy the game. We play because now, out of all the years the Pythoners have been in existence, we finally have the opportunity to put a trophy in our school trophy case that’s never been there before, and that’s the New York State Championship title!”
The crowd roared. Baker was smiling so much. She never felt the tears of joy running down her face. She clutched Ed’s hand in one and Leon’s in the other.
“This year, as most of you have known, we have dedicated this season to Jimmy Kerrigan; and for Jimmy, for Montie High, and for all of you out there who took the time to fight the frigid weather to get here, I promise you, we will bring the championship home to Montie!
“Thank you.”
The crowd went wild over Stevie’s last words. Baker, Ed, Leon, Ellie, and parents of the other players were beaming over their sons. Coach Claymoore grinned. Promise? Well, Coach would give it all he had. He knew the team would as well.
It was a good day all around. He saw the ice-cream lady. Walking through the crowd of people after the ceremonies ended, he finally made his way to where she was. Handing out ice-cream.
“How about a scoop of that Velvet Chocolate, young lady.”
Tammy looked up and smiled.
“Certainly, Coach.”
Taking the cone from her and taking a lick, he looked at her and said, “Yummy. You named this right. Your parents would be really proud of you.” Then he turned and walked over to the press.
What a day, he thought.
Baker-Manning Home
111 Homestead Lane - 5:12 p.m.
As everyone was entering the house, Stevie grabbed the mail from the mailbox.
“Ed, this looks official and important, and it’s addressed to you.’
Taking the envelop, he looked at the return address then quickly opened it and pulled out a single page.
“Good news or bad, Ed,” asked Baker.
After scanning through the five paragraphs, Ed’s eyes lit up and a smile creased his face.
“Oh, it’s good news, Jan. This is from Buffalo informing me that if I want to take the bar exam, I have to notify them in ten days to be placed for the testing. The test itself is the twentieth of this month. It also says I will get an email ten days after the testing on my results and if I pass, my name will be added to the New York Law Journal.”
“This what you have been waiting for, working for, Ed. Eighteen days from now, you’ll be a full-fledged attorney.”
“Provided I pass.”
“With all the studying you have done, you better pass. If you don’t, then no dinner for you and you go straight to your room,” laughed Stevie.”
Leon had a puzzled expression.
“I don’t get it. How hard can it be to pick up a bar, look at it and say, yeah, it's a bar."
The Projects – North End – 5:19 p.m.
Both Lucky and Sadowski had seen the transaction going down amongst six people; two blacks, one white, and three Chicano’s.
They called dispatch knowing full well they would need backup.
Drugs in Montie isn’t on the same scale as a New York City, Chicago, Detroit, or DC; but drugs are drugs and be it small or big time, dealing in drugs is still a felony.
Three cars pulled in and had all the exits leading to the street covered. Lucky and Sadowski stepped out of their car just as two other officers, Franklin and Mahoney had. Weapons drawn, telling those who were busted to lie face down on the concrete.
But there was one person they never saw, a Chicano in the backseat with a Mac-10, who unloaded on Lucky and Sadowski and tried to get Franklin and Mahoney, at the same time.
There were four other officers who found cover at varying distances and opened fire on the shooter.
The two black men, three Chicano’s and the white male, all tried to make a run for it, two of which grabbed weapons they had first surrendered: a Colt Magnum .357, and an older Walther P-38. They were running and shooting at the same time. It was a madhouse!
More units were called in. Franklin took a bullet in his upper right thigh and Mahoney was hit in the left shoulder. The other four officers meanwhile, unloaded on the runners and apprehended the remaining men who gave up, but not before killing the shooter in the car. The two who tried to run were wounded but not badly enough where they would be in a hospital for long.
They would be charged with possession of an illegal substance, cocaine, hashish, and opium. There would also be additional charges of attempted murder against Franklin and Mahoney. They would also be charged with the murders of officers Lucky, and Sadowski.
It had been quite some time since a police officer had been killed in the line of duty in Montie. Still, the residents, families, the entire makeup of Montie would, as with days past, stand strong, stand united, never wavering when tragedy strikes. Montie always managed to rebound and stand a little taller and a little stronger.
On this night, two families will grieve. Two families will feel the personal loss and pain of losing a husband, a father, a son.
Though it happened in the line of duty, let it also be remembered that another person died that day. Someone’s daughter. She was sixteen.
They say everything that happens, does so for a reason. On this particular day, no one could find a good enough reason.
The Baker-Manning Home
111 Homestead Lane – 5:42 p.m.
“Baker.”
“It’s Carl, JB.”
“Hey, Carl. What’s up?”
“I’m at a scene right now in the Projects. There was a major shootout. We lost two good men.”
“Who? And what went down?”
“From what I have seen, it was to start as a simple arrest. Then all hell broke loose when a shooter no one saw, in the backseat of a car, opened up Lucky and Sadowski. She was a sixteen-year-old girl, Marianna Gutierrez.
“I’ll contact the families after I do the prelims. Tomorrow, I’ll make arrangements with the mortuaries to handle closed caskets.”
“Closed?”
“Yeah. The shooter, Marianna, about wiped their faces clean off their shoulders.”
“My God!” Baker felt as if she had just been kicked in the stomach.
“Who’s the lead officer there?”
“Devon.”
“If he’s close by, put him on the line.”
Carl didn’t cover his phone and Baker heard him yelling for Devon to come to him. “It’s Baker. She wants to talk to you.”
“Lieutenant?”
“Listen, Devon. Get all you can on this. Any eyewitness reports, photographs, positions of all the bodies, as close to a timeline as you can, and put it on my desk when you come in.
I’ll be there in about twenty minutes. No missing words. No loopholes. Got that?”
“Got it.” He knew by the seriousness in her voice that he had better make certain any information, and evidence was rock solid.
Baker hung up and looked over at Ed and Stevie and told them what happened.
“Mom, I know you have to go. I’m good with it.”
“Sorry, Bub. I was hoping to see you guys off at the airport.”
“Jan, do what has to be done. What with Ellie and her parents along for the ride and the game, we’ll be busy anyway. Besides, I know what you’re feeling. We’ve been there too many times in the past.”
“Don’t worry about us, mom. Like I said, I’ll call you after the game.”
“You better.”
No, nothing ever seems to come easy in Montie, but for over two-hundred years, Montie gets a little stronger and a little prouder as times passes.