Not What They Seem: Final Installment

Zelda’s knees crumpled and she hit the floor, eyes closed and momentarily unable to breathe. Her gut instinct to trust Ben had been on target. Unfortunately, she’d been a lttle too trusting of a uniform. Cops were supposed to be good; EMTs were supposed to be good.

Wolves in sheeps’ clothing, that’s what these cops and EMTS were.

Come to think of it, gray-hair ladies who wore flannel robes that reached past their knees and support stockings were supposed to be good, too.

In just a matter of moments, Zelda’s home was full of fake cops and fake EMTs, and they were all looking for something.

Except for the first cop, the one who’d entered with Mrs. Garrison. He focused on Ben. Ben took a step back, the fake cop sprinted. Ben stumbled and just barely regained his balance by leaning up against a decorative table in Zelda’s entry way. The cop didn’t have an issue with balance and pressed his gun up against Ben’s temple.

“I’ve wanted to kill you for a long time,” the fake cop said.

“Not yet,” said Mrs. Garrison. “You’re a little too quick on the trigger and that’s why my husband’s dead. Idiot.”

“Okay” the fake cop said, “I’ll settle for this.” Without hesitation, and without removing the gun from Ben’s temple, he smashed his fist into Ben’s nose.

Ben’s hands flew up to his nose and a word – one that Zelda couldn’t make out – escaped from his lips. Then, Ben shuddered, knocking against the decorative table holding the antique lady planter vase that had been Zelda’s mother’s. The planter was in the shape of a blonde, curly-haired woman wearing green and pink ruffled dress – complete with a nosegay - and looking ready to go out a 1950’s era date. When Ben bumped into the table, the lady wobbled, fell to its side, and started to roll toward the edge of the tiny, round table.

Ben’s hands left his now red nose and grabbed for the planter.

In the ruckus, no one but Zelda, still pretending to be unconscious on the floor, noticed the detonator fall from his pocket. It landed right next to Zelda’s hand. She quickly made sure it was under her hand.

She’d be thanking God for this bit of help later.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Mrs. Garrison yelled.

“What?”

“It’s been here all along, right on this stupid table, and right on this stupid vase I’ve looked at a thousand times.”

The fake cop grabbed the vase and turned it upside-down. A list of numbers scrawled in bold black marker were printed underneath.

Tommy would have some explaining to do.

“Now, you can kill him,” Mrs. Garrison said calmly.

The fake cop grinned.

Zelda jumped up, holding the detonator, and said, “If I even hear the faintest movement from that gun’s mechanism, I’ll blow us all to Kingdom Come. And, because I’m quite sure none of your shadows have passed over a church’s threshold, I might be the only want with an invitation.”

The fake cop lowered his gun and squinted at the detonator. Mrs. Garrison looked angry. The other fake cops and EMTs didn’t know what was happening.

“Good going, Mom!”

It was Tommy! Standing in the door and with a whole patrol of real cops behind him. It took hours to clear the house, answer questions, and find out what going on. Or, rather not find out what was going on. Neither Tommy nor Ben were at liberty to say who the number belonged to, although Tommy did say it was an account number. and Tommy did fess up to writing it there more than a decade ago and then not being able to get it off and forgetting about it.

“What I want to know,” Zelda said, “is how the Garrison’s knew the account number was somewhere in my house.”

“Easy,” Ben said. “Mr. Garrison used to work for the good guys. If that account number ever got out, he’d be dead. Then, he met the woman who became Mrs. Garrison and changed sides.”

“Why didn’t you tell me,” Zelda said. Her teeth so tightly locked together, they hurt.

“Up until a week ago, we didn’t know who the Garrisons were. We’d been looking for them overseas and under different names. The minute we found out, we placed Ben in the neighborhood to keep you safe.”

“Why didn’t you just come get the vase.”

Tommy looked sheepish as he jumped up and headed down the porch steps and to his car. In a minute he was back with a red and white wrapped present.

“Open it.”

First, Zelda put it to her ear. Then, she looked at Ben. He nodded. For more than fifty years Zelda had been a two-second gift opening. Now, because of a red and white wrapped present, make that two, she might never be so enthusiastic about opening presents again. Slowly, she tore the paper away. A white box was inside. She nudged at the tape holding the corners. Finally, she lifted the lid and found a lady planter vase, exactly like the one the real police had carted away.

“Ben was supposed to steal it, and then I was going to replace it as your Christmas gift.”

“You’re my Christmas gift,” Zelda whispered. “My only son, home for Christmas. I love you.”

“Love,” Tommy shook his head, even as he hugged his mother. “It’s a crazy thing.”

“Yes, it is,” said Benjamin Rudolf, with his very red nose.

He was looking at Zelda and his eyes were saying love wasn’t crazy at all.

The End