Chap. 3 – The Night at Susie’s

Chapter 3

The Night at Susie’s

     A couple hours after leaving the teenagers in the square, we were sitting in our waitress Susie’s living room, with a large quantity of wine, planning a supper for eight.  Susie’s house was a ramshackle, white with red trim, split level, with three bedrooms, only two blocks from the Chat & Chew.  Susie’s kids had gone off to the west coast, one to Vancouver, BC and the other to Seattle, and her husband was no longer around.  She waitressed to supplement her Social Security check and was mostly bored and lonely except for a few friends, including Eloise, whom she had gotten to know as her kids’ teacher.  They got to be good friends over the years without much luck finding interesting men to meet. 

     After the local school board voted to ban “To Kill a Mockingbird,” and other books on Susie’s and Eloise’s shelves, they decided to try organizing some independent voters into voting third party in the next school board election [better than Republicans – and Democrats have no chance].

     Max told us how he got to know Eloise.  Max was wearing his usual grey cardigan sweater, button down shirt and khaki slacks.  A tall, slender guy, now 68 years old, bald on top, he had a greying beard and a bulbous nose.  After serving in the Peace Corps with Eloise in Nicaragua, he kept up the friendship.  First visiting her in New York, then in Montana after she moved there to live off the land with a new boyfriend.  But that didn’t last long, she ditched the boyfriend and got her teaching degree in Bozeman.  At the time of his last visit, now ten years ago, she was in Boulder teaching, still playing the field.  “What’s she up to these days?” Max asked hostess Susie, “and tell us more about the school board race.”

     “Well, of course, I called her in New York right after you guys left the Chat & Chew, and she’s super-excited to see you, Max, and meet all you guys.  She could use some pumping-up, her school board race isn’t getting much attention – and by the way, Max – she heard you’re back to being single.  I think she wanted to say, ‘she’s eligible too’.”

    That night movie-maker Patty and Sally slept in Susie’s house, and the rest of us in the camper (too rainy for tents) where the discussion turned to “How long you think we’re going to stay here?” … and …  “Who knows, at this rate, we may never make it to the West Coast, much less the East Coast.”

     It turned out we stayed long enough for a lot to happen. 

Chap. 2 – First Stop

Chapter 2

First Stop – Boulder, MT

    Eloise wasn’t home – but Sally was mollified to see the mail box had her name on it.  Max left a land-line phone message, and we headed to town to maybe find the high school.  It turned out to be the first test of how much attention to a roving commune on wheels might be too much attention

     Boulder, Montana, is a tiny town, unless you go by Montana standards, so there were not a lot of choices for where to park and check out the local coffee shop scene.  We decided to park right in front of City Hall on the square with the County Courthouse and shops across the street.  Boulder is nestled on the Continental Divide at the intersection of Interstate 15 and Montana 69.  The sun was just starting to disappear behind the spiral with the court house clock.  It was a sunny, mid-September mid-afternoon. 

     At the one open coffee shop, called the “Chat & Chew,” the waitress was excited to have any kind of a crowd, but a jovial one at that, and quickly learned what we were up to, exclaiming “Oh, can I come with!!?” 

     “Yeah,” she did know Eloise the teacher, and “Yeah,” Eloise was still teaching, “but I think Eloise is back east, a sick relative, or something,” she added. 

     Being mid-afternoon there were not many customers, and we kept up a lively conversation with Susie, our friendly waitress.  We all admired the photos of the town on the walls with the picturesque Boulder Mountains in the background.  There were plenty of hunting and fishing photos as well, plus an old Hamm’s Beer sign with flowing, sky-blue waters.  After finishing-up a small bite to eat, some of us snuck out back for a quick smoke.  As we paid our bill, Susie the waitress volunteered to let us park the Land Yacht in her driveway – even offering a couple couches – if we wanted to stay in town until Eloise was back.

     Walking out of the Chat & Chew, we saw that a group of teenagers had gathered around a park bench not far from where our RV was parked.  “Where you guys heading to?” the smallest of the group hollered out.  He was wearing a hoodie with “SkateCat Jack” embroidered across the front. 

     “Yeah, you live in this thing?” the one female in the group remarked, not so much as a question.  She had a pixie-square haircut and nose jewelry. 

     We told them we were on our way to California staying with friends along the way.  “You must know Eloise Johnson.  She teaches at the high school.  I was in the Peace Corps with her,” Max said to them. 

     The teenagers all knew Eloise, and the one we got to know later as Gregory told us Eloise was running for school board as the Forward Party candidate, pointing to our Forward Party bumper sticker.  “We could use some more volunteers,” he told us. 

     In short fashion, the teens engaged in a lively conversation with us about the message crayoned on our back window [“Have Love, Will Travel,” a tribute to the Richard Berry song]; about pot [Did we have any?]; and how did we get involved with “the Yang Gang.” 

      Skip explained how he was an Andrew Yang for President volunteer in the 2020 election and asked if Boulder was more or less a Trump town or might there be some independent Yang-types, ready for better choices? [Definitely a Trump 2024 town].  

     Leaving the teenagers to themselves, we clambered on board the Land Yacht, Max saying, even before he sat down: “Let’s stick around a couple days.  I’ll go back to the Chat & Chew and make sure Eloise’s friend, the waitress, is really okay with us crashing in her driveway a night or two.”

      Skip piped in, “You know, I like the way this trip is starting out, catching up with old friends, making new friends, and best of all cross-germinating political ideas across the generational divide!”   

Prologue & Chapter 1

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.”

Introduction and List of Characters

THE RUMPKINS

Map showing their 4-month journey:

Introduction and List of Characters

     This is the story of a simple fishing trip getting complicated, snagged into politics and terrorism.  Instead of two of us going fishing for a couple months, seven of us ended up traveling America post Donald Trump’s presidency.  Instead of trout fishing in Montana, we happened upon a small-town murder mystery.  Instead of fishing for croakers off the Santa Monica Pier, we fell into a terrorist plot to blow up Dodger Stadium.

       **********************************

     Before telling the story, let’s introduce the main characters, the seven of us who left Saint Paul, Minnesota in September, 2022:

     First, there’s Skip.  It was Skip’s idea to buy an old RV and go traveling.  It didn’t take long to find six others excited to hop on.  To get on you had to know at least five people to visit around the country who wouldn’t mind an RV parked in their driveway overnight.

     Then there’s Patty who turned everything that happened into a movie.  Patty and Skip got to know each other playing softball on Sunday mornings at Lynwood Park.

     Patty brought Huck, an old boyfriend, and the musician in our group.

     It was Max, Skip’s long-time doctor and fishing buddy, who first came up with the idea of going on a fishing trip (now that both were retired). 

     Max’s fishing chum, Sally, got on board. After a successful career as an investment counselor, Sally was ready to pursue her childhood dream of being an avid fisherwoman, and not so happy how many times it turned out we needed a lawyer.

     Fortunately, Steve was on board, Skip’s long-time lawyer buddy.

     Finally, Rocky, one of Skip’s best friends since college days, got on the bus.

                                        ***************************

     As events unfold, you’ll meet the following characters (in order of appearance):

     Eloise Johnson, a school teacher and school board candidate in Boulder, Montana;

     Susie Cole, a waitress and single mom in Boulder, Montana;

     Charlie Furbush, a hunting guide on trial for murder in Boulder, Montana;

     Stephanie Cole, Susie’s daughter living on an apple farm along the Skagit River;

     Joey Cole, Susie’s son living in Vancouver, British Columbia;

     Jesse, a Portland, Oregon, Forward Party computer whiz, the originator of The Rumpkins;

     Ken Vardaman, Max’s ex-brother-in-law, a Hollywood gigolo who started all the trouble;

     Abdul, the murder victim;

     “Pirate Jack,” a Silicon Valley tycoon and member of the California Pirate Party;

     Gordy Ettinger, a former Symbionese Liberation Army member and friend of Ken’s;

     “John Doe” (actually Dougherty, aka Jamie Rafferty), Gordy’s cell mate from prison days;

     Jane, a former girlfriend of Gordy’s, now “John Doe’s” girlfriend;

     Shadya Warsame, Abdul’s partner in a sex trafficking ring operating out of Vancouver; and

     J. L. Stover, the FBI Bureau Chief in New York City.

                                      ********************************

     After RV’g through 26 states in four months, we made international headlines on Christmas Eve, 2022, foiling a terrorist plot to blow up St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City.  When we first set out, little did we know how many new friends would touch our lives.  More surprisingly, we never expected our journey would find us crossing swords with terrorists, corrupt government officials and human sex traffickers.

     We call ourselves The Rumpkins, and this is our story.

The Rumpkins

[On book cover inside flap:

Before you start reading this golden-years romance novel, a travel adventure ensnared in a murder mystery, about seven Minnesotans in search of themselves, in search of their country, looking for a better body politic – there’s a story behind it:

After I retired I had this great idea – travel the country with a bunch of friends in an RV. Only I couldn’t get anybody to join up. So I decided to write up what I had in mind, even priced out the cost of a used Land Yacht, and sent out a written invitation to all my retired friends or looking-for-something-new friends. Only still no one. So I said, “To Heck With You All. Here’s what you missed.” And I started writing what a trip might have been like, my imagination barely limited by “Could this really happen?” . . . Thus, THE RUMPKINS!