Prologue
Kaboom! The bomb went off. Mass screaming. Hysterical cries: “Please God, let me die!” A wall tumbled. More screaming. Now, police sirens. Cops racing into St. Patrick’s Cathedral on East 51st Street in New York City – just a long home run from Trump Tower.
Some people dead. Many more dying. It’s Christmas Eve, the year 2022, a little before six p.m. The annual Christmas Eve Children’s Mass had just begun. Every pew filled with children and some adults. The bomb went off just as the infant was being placed in the manger.
How terrible! How awful! Such a thing could ever happen – but it didn’t – thanks, in part, to a tiny band of Minnesotans who, rather innocently, uncovered the unholy plot in the nick of time.
This is the story about the bomb that almost went off, but didn’t.
Chapter 1
A Commune on Wheels
They had pasts, colorful, fulfilled and varied; the youngest age 60, the oldest 68; and in late middle-age shared a desire for more than memories and watching their kids make their own way in the world. So, in 2022, they bought an old, non-descript, white with beige trim, RV Land Yacht and set sail to find anew the adventures of living in the larger world, a commune on wheels.
“When was the last time you talked with her?” Sally was asking Max, inquiring about Eloise, the first person on our list of people to visit. Leaving Minnesota, Max was driving west on US 212 and Sally was in the navigator seat – riding shotgun. Previously, Sally had established herself as the group’s leading skeptic. When we met to plan the trip, Sally had said, “Are you sure you want to randomly draw a direction out of a hat?!” Skepticism prevailing, we instead decided to go west first and make it south by winter, organizing geographically the names and addresses of everyone on our list to visit; some of whom knew we might be dropping-by, and some not.
Eloise was among the nots. Answering Sally’s question, Max said, “Oh, about five years ago.”
“And she doesn’t even know you’re coming . . . we’re coming?!”
“Well,” Max said, “I’ve known her since Peace Corps days, and we’ve stayed in touch enough over the years to share life’s big adventures. Even if it’s only a half hour visit, I know she’ll be happy we showed up. I’ve dropped in unannounced before.”
“But not with six others . . . you’re sure she’s still living in Boulder – Boulder, MONTANA?”
“Yeah, she’d let me know if she moved. She teaches political science and history at the local high school. I think we’ll find her, and somehow it always turns into an adventure whenever I see her.”