~Fairmount, the series: Pt. 7 ‘That Damned River’~

 

“Fairmount”

the series:

Pt. 7

‘That Damned River’

By

Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.

/*

The ides of December brought no new activity from the beast. The people went with their daily activities as they prepared for the upcoming Christmas and New Year Holiday events. The ranger and his team were mapping out strategies for their assault on the “Killer Kodiak.”

There weren’t any new signs or tracks to be followed along the banks of the Schuylkill River since the last attack. There were no signs of activity or attacks. Glenn and his team started their search at the last killing scene along the West River Drive in Fairmount Park. They contemplated setting up bait traps, steel claw traps, and prowler stations. The river was now in a state of sporadic ice packs scattered out on the water. Ice platforms gathered at the edge of the dam where the majestic view of the Art Museum peered out over the river. The mini glaciers piled up along the edge of the dam where the East and West River Drives meet in the park. A driveway bridge connected the two roads that allowed access into the Benjamin Franklin Parkway and I-95 corridor via route 676.

Snow began to fall at eleven a.m. on December Seventeen, a Saturday. It began to form heavy flakes at four p.m. The layer of snow on the ground measured at two and a half inches from the ground. At 6 p.m., the snow fell heavier and the layer on the ground exceeded the earlier measurement. The wind was mild. It blew about five to 10 miles an hour at a nor’ easterly direction that eventually blew nor’ westerly. The ranger wondered where this beast had gone. Did it just up and leave? Did it eat enough? Did it decide to hibernate? If so, where? “Where the fuck did it go?” He began to stare at the dam along the river and wondered about the pumping station wells underbellies.

The ranger shouted aloud…”Damn!” His staring at the river-dam evolved into an all-out eyeball examination of the location. He turned to one of site searching rangers with the communications backpack. It contained a field radio and satellite telephone. “Get the city archeological engineering department on the horn – I want to know what’s under this dam and pumping station shacks – pronto!”

The City of Philadelphia Records Department, city archives division, responded to the call almost immediately. They could not get the original plans out to him for fear of disintegration – exposure to air and light. The electronic facsimile was available but could not be made immediately available. It could take more than an hour to locate the electronic backup. The field unit also needed to get a notebook computer out to then as well. The portable computer delivery would not necessarily create a problem to dispatch… The date would. It was faster to go to the source – the records department at city hall. Glenn was just five miles away.

Sirens screamed down the Benjamin Franklin Parkway and Pavilion into the City Hall Courtyard. The police car drove directly up and onto the sidewalk surrounding the building – through the breezeway into the courtyard and entrance doors nearest the records department. Ranger Glenn exited the vehicle and dashed through the double doors into the first floor corridor. The records room was just off to the right. The records staff was ready and waiting. They were at the rangers beckon call. The data was being uploaded as Glenn and Police Sergeant Macauleany, the officer from the Smith Playground attack site, and a ranger lieutenant by the name of ‘Asa Wells’ stood by.

It was Lieutenant Wells who noted the fresh footprints in the old snow on the bike and jogger trail. The jogging trail continued into the other side of the river from under the overpass of the west river drive that lead down to the Southside of the Schuylkill River.

The prints in the snow were out of the team’s search area. They could not see them. The trail of prints was pounding a path in the direction of the Philadelphia Zoo.

At the records department, Glenn was able to pull up the archived data on the river’s dam. He was not surprised to discover an underpass right under the water at the dam’s edge. The underpass lay directly at the base of the dam. It is an existing access causeway for the construction crews to make repairs on the dam. No one ever realized such a space existed. It’s been there since the dam’s construction and has never been used. The records staff watched the ranger as he researched other unknown tunnels under the river and along its banks. They were surprised to see all sorts of underground passageways. These excavations were established about the time the dam was built by the “Free Masons of Pennsylvania.” The research brought to light, even more tunnels of ingress and egress points appeared throughout the city’s underground realm. The ranger instructed the department staff to make him copies of the maps immediately. They complied with an exuberant amount of excitement and pride in their ability to jump too in an emergency. The time was three forty five in the afternoon.

At five o’clock in the afternoon, staff of the Philadelphia Zoo, closed its gates for the day. At 10 p.m., one of the zoo guards was completing his 30-minute rounds. The guard who patrolled the area near the polar bear exhibit noticed their agitation. He thought it unusual. The bears are usually calm and settled at this hour. He made note of it on his report sheet attached to a clipboard. On his way to the brown bruins exhibit alarms rang throughout the establishment. They were quite loud. The surrounding neighborhood knew something was amiss when these alarms went off. It drove them out of their sleep…out of their beds.

The guard froze at the sounding of the alarm. The alarms screamed the scream of the wailing witches of Othello fame. The shipmates of Ulysses could bear witness to the screams. The ship in which they were traveling did crash because of it. The covering of their ears didn’t help either. Odysseus was warned of the screaming witches…the alarms of warning.

Realizing his ass was on the line should he shirk his duties, thought the guard. He recalled the fire. Members of an endangered species, a family group of six lowland gorillas, a family group of three orangutans, four white-handed gibbons, and ten lemurs (2 ruffed, 6 ringtail, and 2 mongoose), died in their sleep from smoke inhalation – carbon monoxide poisoning.

At about 10 pm., two security guards smelled smoke by the Philadelphia Zoo’s primate house as they made their rounds. This happened on Saturday December 24, 1995. They took no action. They dismissed the smell as coming from nearby trains on the railroad tracks as had happened frequently. Almost three hours later, at 12:40 a.m. Sunday, the guards returned and found flames on the roof. Fire and zoo officials pinned the blaze on an electrical malfunction caused by improperly installed wires that heated ceiling pipes. Snow on the roof of the 10-year-old World of Primates building muffled any noise that might have been produced by smoke alarms, and fire officials discovered upon investigation, no one who had heard them sound. This engagement happened within the walls of the world famous landmark.

The guard was not in the frame of mind to receive blame for any wrongdoing. He wanted to be recognized as a guard who was Johnny on the spot…proficient and steadfast. “Shit…they caught me once for sleeping on the overnight shift. Two years ago they caught me for drinking a fuckin beer on New Years Eve in the parking lot. It was my lunch break for Christ’s sake. Shit, I’ve got five fuckin years to lose…unemployment just ain’t gittin it!”

The frantic guard snapped too – and like greased lightning, he bolted towards the designated report station. Once there, another guard was dispatched to the power and alarm and shut-off terminal and grid shack. It’s still called the shack after the new building was erected since the fire. No longer was the guard focused on himself and his troubles. His mind was on his job performance and the saving of animals and zoo property. He thought of all the animals and his designated patrol area. The bear exhibit. The bears needed him.

*/

 

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~Fairmount The Series Pt. 6: “Physical Alterations”~

“Fairmount”

The Series

Part 6
“Physical Alterations”

By

Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.

http://www.BoulwareEnterprises.com

/*

“Well gentlemen, shall I enlighten our esteemed gatherers to you’re – shall I say, most recent activities?” The ranger smiled. The four zoo officials looked at one another. The mayor, the commissioners, and the three captains looked at them as well. They did not answer.

The ranger waited as he nodded to his colleagues. Professor Francis stood with several papers in her hand. “Madame Mayor, Commissioners, and Gentlemen of Our City’s Law Enforcement Community…I have documentation that supports a belief that our city zoo officials have first hand knowledge of counsel given and granted to a research project on the Alaskan Bear Project.” Genailia peered directly at the four learned and stunned men. She put down the papers and picked up a batch of photos. One by one, she passed them out to the panel members. They in turn viewed them while passing the pictures back to Genailia. The ranger said, “I’ll ask you once more…what in the hell have you all to do with this bear and its physical alterations?” He glared directly at the assumed leader of the group – Dr. Horatio Martin Mulberry, P.H.D., D.V.M. The dumbfounded group leader frowned and grew angry. “What are those damned papers in your possession?” The Doctor of Veterinary Medicine barked. His questioning demand was announced with ferociousness as his eyes narrowed and reddened with a cold and defiant stare. The evil eyes darted and fixed directly on Ranger Glenn after glancing off the two professors.

Gerald replied, “They are documentation and photographic proof of you and your revered colleagues’ involvement in this insidious experiment with wildlife manipulation!”

The three other officials, Dr. Stephen Lazzaro Steigleton, P.H.D., Dr. Martini Rossi Henrikson, P.H.D., and Lawrence Salzy McGorsky, Anthropologist, Archeologist and Doctor of Veterinary Science. Mulberry stood and motioned to the other zoo officials. They rose in tandem and filed out of the meeting room arena. In the corridor outside the mayor’s office was a contingent of reporters. They’d gotten wind of a heated discussion in connection with the mauling attacks of last month. One particular journalist found a way to listen in on the private conversation exclusively.

Salestian “Sally” Michaels was born and raised in Philadelphia. He got his start as a ‘South Philly’ newspaper boy. In the heart of the ‘Mafiosi’ community, Michaels shined shoes, ran errands, and did odd jobs for the guys. “Good Fellas” like Angel Brondidi and Nick “the Needle” Scarily. Sally, as his friends and adversaries called him, hung around the corner bars on Passyunk Avenue. The little Black Kid was a pest. But the guys liked him. Nobody dared call him ‘Nigger’ or “Lil Black Sambo.” Angie didn’t like it. The last man that did it went missing a couple of days later. He was found six months later. The body turned up while workers were rehabbing an old pier of the Tioga Docks on the Delaware River. The body was found in an old rusted out fifty-five gallon oil drum in the basement of one of the storage piers on site. He seemed to have a rather large clown like smile. It turned out to be a blood-coagulated slit from ear to ear, just under the chin. The lips were frozen shut around a sausage that was shoved in his mouth. He’d been there for some time. The coroner estimated a five to six month period. The drum, like many others, went unnoticed n the waterfront of the old docking pier that was mired and caked with sludge from oil off many barges docked at the old piers along the strait.

The missing man slapped Sally n the top of his head and kicked in the butt. Laughing with his friends, the drunken white man chided about the little nigger kid’s hanging out and panhandling for dimes and handouts. He said to his compatriots, “Look at them sambos…beggin and shinin for our hard-earned dough. The Black bastards ought to be lickin my spit and wiping my ass just for the privilege of lookin at me!”
But the dude messed with the wrong lil black kid. This kid was Angie’s kid – his protégé.

Michaels knew of a little closet-like door right next to the personal entrance to the mayor’s chambers. It was an old broom closet not in use for years. The walls were paper -thin. One of which rotted to the point of disintegration. It was due to be replaced and had been neglected for work elsewhere in City Hall. The reporter kept this accidental info to himself. He stumbled upon it one day while chasing a story. City Hall suffered a temporary blackout one summer during his first year of reporting. He stumbled upon the room in the dark while seeking the men’s restroom. Sally got wind of some of the best inside stories for a rookie reporter right from that little room. At the young age of eighteen, he got the job through an acquaintance of Angie’s. The guy owed Angie a couple of favors, so he hired Sally in order to appease his situation with the good fellow. He really didn’t like the kid because he was black…but he was Angie’s kid. From an errand boy in the copy room, Sally grew on Adam Silvestry. The two old guys sponsored and paid for Sally’s college education. After graduating Philadelphia University with a degree in Business Administration, Sally worked a few jobs around town. They were basically dead end jobs where many yes men hung out – hoping and kissing ass for promotions. Salestian wanted to write. He took a few journalism courses at Temple University and chased a few stories for the Globe. He was always under the watchful eye of Silvestry.

During a mayoral election, Sally got an inside scoop while hanging out with one of his Old Italian buddies. His buddy was a South Philly committeeman who had some pull around town. After his first feature story, Sally was hired full-time as a reporter for the Globe. From that point on, he was and had become an ace reporter as well as earning journalistic respect and town and in Camden too.
The inside scoop on this story will win him a Pulitzer Prize, he thought. He was enjoying the birds-eye view on this scoop – a big time story and its unfolding events.

Glenn said to the mayor, “The animal that we seek is a product of an insane experiment. The zoo guys are directly involved in it. They are manipulating plant and animal species for the purpose of stimulation and enlargement of growth. I suspect their capitalistic egos are tasting and smelling huge financial and notoriety gain – at the expense of the animals and us… Deaths be damned – its collateral damage in their eyes.”

“So what do we do about it?” Asked the mayor. “What do we do to get this animal and keep it from killing anyone else?”

“My team and I will deal with the animal. The question is what will you do in dealing with the assholes that brought this shit here?” Replied the ranger.

Finkles’ green eyes seemed to flash red. “OK men…that’s it…let’s get to work! I want this nightmare ended – give the ranger anything and everything he needs and or wants!” She paused and glared at the two captains. “And I mean everything!” She placed special emphasis on the word everything as she stormed out of the reception room through a door into the private mayoral chambers. Once there, she snatched the receiver of the telephone from its cradle. Buttons were punched feverishly. She was more than angry. She was pissed…totally. From outside of her chambers, the demanding and tumultuous screams could seemingly be heard throughout the city hall infrastructure. Professor Rockford just followed along in silence.

The police captains glared at each other while standing in place like pillars of salt. The commissioners nodded at one another upon departure from the meeting room. The ranger, Genailia, and Vernon were already descending the stairway from the top floor. They had no time to wait for elevators. Glenn was anxiously screaming orders to his pre-assembled team by way of two-way radio. He kept the unit on his holster attached to his belt, next to his cell phone. Genailia was anxiously giving directions to her staff via cell phone. Her administrative and investigative staff was centered and housed in the old “Germantown Hall” located at Germantown Avenue and Haines Street in the Germantown area of Philly. The 14th District was right next-door – it used to be housed within the Town Hall structure until they became separated with the construction of the new and modernized building, The command center of Captain Samuel!

>

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*/

 

~ “Fairmount” Part Four: ‘A Pillar of Salt’ ~

 

“Fairmount”

The Series

Part 4:

‘A Pillar of Salt’

By

Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.

…Here We Go Again!

Another excerpt from the highly acclaimed action adventure, “Fairmount.”

http://www.boulwareenterprises.com/FAIRMOUNT.html

/*

Sirens screamed…seemingly from everywhere. The eeriness of the moonlit night chilled the souls of all witnessing the frightening and tragic event. The female driver who was involved in the fender-bender, stood still. When she reached her car, a 2006 Mercedes XE – she stood…shivering. The woman stared with the eyes of a statue, a pillar of salt. Her face stone cold and pale chalky white…just screamed. She wasn’t aware of her scream. The remaining eastbound drivers of the group were also not aware of her scream. The scream lasted until the first EMT injected her with a sedative, calming her. The scream assailed all the ears in the vicinity. The scream died on the examination table at the hospital ER.

 

CSI and several other investigation units scoured the scene…flood lights illuminated all of the terrain – from the marsh along the river up to the guard rails of the route 76 highway above the railroad tracks. The entire nighttime darkness virtually became a daytime scene due to the powerful emergency searchlights.

 

The mayor scrambled her entourage and cohorts together in an attempt to explain the situation to the media and citizens of Philly. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to do. She excused herself and disappeared into another room of her City Hall Office. She sat down and cried.

 

Ranger Glenn was returning from Juneau Alaska when he got the call from his subordinate officers. He was alerted just as he was pilling into bed after the long airplane ride back to Philadelphia by way of New York. The trip was an investigative research and information-gathering endeavor. The trip was long…he was tired. The fact-finding trip proved fruitful. The expedition was intended as a how and why this animal, which belongs in the Alaskan wilderness, found its way to the Philadelphia area.

 

Barrow Alaska is the Northern most cities in the United States (Atka is the Western most in Alaska and the country) – Juneau is the largest in Alaska and the US, 3,100 sq. miles). Gerald visited several wildlife sites, animal refuge areas, and wild animal experts and rangers in the Juneau, Anchorage, Talkeetna, Denali, Glacier Bay, Kenai Fjords, and Kodiak Island Alaskan territories while ending his investigation in Barrow. It was when he stopped in to look around a few lumber camps, a scenario of possibilities and circumstances started to take form. The travel route of the unreported – undetected bear family.

 

Captain Samuel was entertaining guests at his Mount Airy home when his cell phone alert sounded. Elizabeth, his wife, their three children, 16 year old Garreth, 12 year old Randall, and 8 year old Teresa – along with Willice’s in-laws, Christine and Frank Ramorez, his two brothers Russell and Steve, and parents Ernest and Valerie Samuel jumped to attention when the Captain became rigid and stopped laughing. Willice stopped flipping burgers on the Barbie as well.

 

The Samuels’ were proud of their sons. Russell was the manager of the ‘Well-Stop’ restaurant and bar in the Germantown section of Philadelphia. Steve worked in a Chestnut Hill bookstore, while Willice rose through the ranks to Lieutenant and to Captain of the Philly Police Department after graduating Philadelphia University – formerly known as Textile University with a four-year degree in Business Administration. The family Samuel were not wealthy. Ernest worked for several construction companies while raising his children. Valerie was a data processor at a suburban area insurance company for many years. They were a hardworking, close-nit and loving family who struggled to eldest son through college. Willice was the first and only male child to attend and graduate with a baccalaureate degree. His mother earned an associate degree several months prior to Willice’s birth. Russell and Steve decided to wait for college – they weren’t really interested in attending anyway.

 

Captain Jarard Noodles, aka, “Noodle-head Noodles, as referred by his subordinates and many who knew him, rose through the ranks by way of nepotism…his father and grandfather were cops before him. Jarard was a die-hard bigot. The ‘good-ole boys genre was born to him…he hated Blacks, Asians, Latinos, Mexicans, Indians, Jews, and women – as well as anyone else whom he deemed a lesser being – most everyone except white folk who thought and believed like him. The aforementioned groups, he believed were not his equal…to be subservient to white folk – especially to him. They were born to kiss his Irish ass…many in his charge did – but not Willice. Jarard barely made it through high school. He was at best a ‘D’ student…he sometimes earned a ‘C’. He hated to read and write. His subordinates voice taped or read his reports to him on a regular basis. His directives were recorded and later typed by administrative assistants for dispersal among the ranks of his district unit officers. He was raised in the ‘Fish Town’ neighborhood of the city.

 

Mayor Finkles got dressed in a lavender colored pantsuit with black pumps on her feet. She squawked into the multi-faceted telephone speaker system…Commissioner Dexter Talis listened intently. The mayor ordered her press secretary to prepare an announcement to the stave off the press reports. The last thing she wanted was a panicked and in-informed populace. The mayors’ entourage was at the ready when she appeared…waving a let’s go signal while disappearing into her waiting limo after exiting her Chestnut Hill residence…enroute to the parks’ west-river drive.

 

It took the mayor all of fifteen minutes to reach the horrific and catastrophic scene. The newspaper, TV, radio, and network news media were already encamped at the site. The mayors’ personal police escort carved a direct access route through the barricades and intrepid news-hawks. She stepped out of the car, surrounded by bodyguards and her immediate staff. Microphones and cameras made an attempt to smother her. She waved her left hand and with a sternful glance…indicating no interviews or statements. The bulbous police bodyguard squad insured non-interference as she made her way to the central rescue zone.

 

The coroner was already loading the lower half of the dead cop’s body into the van as the two captains arrived on scene. “Damn”, exclaimed Captain Noodles while viewing the bloody scene and what was left of the cop. “One of the witnesses is already at the hospital,” stated a 14th District Sergeant. Captain Samuel asked, “What in the hell kind of animal are we dealing with?” The swat team commander reported to commissioner Talis. “We’ve found a blood trail leading back from the roadway down to the river’s edge. All that we found was a couple of fingers, a pool of blood, very large animal paw-prints, and crushed shrubbery… Nothing else…whatever it was, it’s gone!” Captain Samuel ordered the gathering of all witnesses for a Q and A at central detective headquarters – the Roundhouse at downtown Eight and Race Streets. The search and rescue floodlights lit up the river, on both sides. Up and down the river, from one side to the other, the search continued. The search continued until dawn. “What in God’s name are we up against?” voiced Commissioner Tanex. The Police Commissioner just arrived on the scene at about 6:30 A.M. He received the report from Lieutenant Commissioner Talis. The commissioner was out of town on official business with the Governor’s commission on crime in Harrisburg. The mayor was standing close by directing a rap-up of last night’s massacre. A voice answered the commissioner…

It’s a bear…a rather larger than life monster Kodiak bear. The voice of dread was that of the newly appointed Environmental Protection Agency agent and Governmental National Parks and Wildlife Ranger Gerald Glenn.

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*/