The Garden Club by James Gerard (nonfiction book recommendations .txt) 📖

agent they put in the bananas, dead.”

 

“Are you insane!” cried Hal.  “You’re telling me they killed the Governor over such a little piece of land?”

 

“You’re the one that gave him the poisoned bananas.  Ron will be implicated too.”

 

All of a sudden, Hal heard a swarm of sirens approaching.  “You framed me.”  He jumped out of the cockpit and sprinted towards the stairs.

 

“Hey,” yelled Kenneth, “what is wrong with you?”

 

“Why?  Why Kenneth?”

 

“Why what?”

 

“That can’t be true!”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“I had no influence over the Governor.”

 

“Will you get back here already and calm down.”

 

“No!”

 

“Listen Hal, the Governor decided not to sell off the park.  He decided to leave it as is.”

 

Hal acted on an impulse and rushed to the jet.  He bowled over Kenneth standing in the way and dived into the cockpit.

 

The security cars were heard screeching to a halt while their sirens still wailed.  Hal looked around the cockpit.  Where, he thought.

 

The engines ignited.  A finger tapped to a location in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.  The foot pedals were depressed.  The engines rotated and lifted the jet straight up and well above the pad.  The GPS took over control launching the jet towards the ocean ahead.  Before he knew it, Hal was safely soaring high above the waters below.

 

Eyes darted about the digital displays.  He frantically searched for a way to seize control over the automatic pilot.  A finger stabbed at the touch pad and in an instant the jet responded with a slight roll to the right.  Hands gripped the yoke and turned it slightly until a digital panel displayed level flight.

 

The attention was quickly diverted outside the cockpit.  Eyes scanned for danger against the crystal blue sky above and the deep blue sea below, but nothing was spotted.  

 

“Speed fine,” he whispered.  “Altitude fine.”

 

Hal felt the stress falling away as the aircraft was piloted with the skills learned and the meticulous training his father had put him through as a youth.

 

A temporary state of uneasiness subdued the thoughts again as remembrances of heroic tales from both his father and Kenneth came to mind.  The discomfort led to a search of possible military aircraft approaching fast to cut off the path of the flight and force a diversion back to land.

 

Hal again looked around the instrument panel and saw a light flashing.  The flashing light was hastily interpreted as a warning of armed intruders soaring to the location.  Maybe there’s a radar system, he hoped, but no such system was spotted.   Hours passed by with discerning glances between the surrounding sky and flashing light, but nothing happened.  Common sense dictated he could not be blind to their searching eyes, yet for some unknown reason they remained at a distance.

 

“Wait a minute,” he whispered.  A laugh erupted in the cockpit as the reality of the situation emerged.  “There is no more military.”  The realization that the only other aircraft that might be occupying the sky was either cargo transport planes operated by the various corporations to transport their wares about or by jets flying executives to and fro meetings.  Neither scenario was a threat.  

 

The grip on the yoke was loosened.  Staring at the flashing white dot, Hal finally noticed that it hovered over the three dimensional display of the Pacific.  He yanked the yoke to the right then sharply back to the left.  With calmness taking control of the emotions, he could plainly see the dot paralleled the movements.  He let out a chuckle once he realized the dot was him.  It now made sense that the jet would come equipped with the latest GPS system.  He let go of the yoke and relaxed knowing no plane was in pursuit.  Relieved that he was alone in the sky, Hal ceded control back to the automatic pilot.  

 

With no sudden threat around, he looked to the map to find the jet’s present location.  Arrows indicated that the current course led the jet close to Midway Island.  If he remembered right, that is where Kenneth's squadron at times was stationed when not aboard the aircraft carrier.  It was a location that once served as a platform for one of the navy’s radar installations and a squadron of F-35’s ready to take off and intercept enemy intruders on a moment’s notice.  And Hal was confident that neither function existed any longer.  But, he could not help but to suspect that some corporation may currently be utilizing its space for any number of purposes.  As a matter of precaution, Hal decided to dodge any potential danger and banked the jet sharply to the left.

 

Where is it safe? wondered Hal.  “Oh darn!  They’ll tie Ron into all of this.”

 

The screen was scanned.  A finger tapped a specific spot bringing up a map of the world.  A finger jabbed at the United States, then San Diego, Escondido, then the park.  The jet banked sharply to the right and glided around to the opposite direction.  Hal knew it was risky going back, but he knew he could never forgive himself if Ron had been hunted down and captured.  He would certainly be made to stand trial of a crime for which neither of them had any involvement.

 

Eyes scanned the control panel seeking out a way to propel the jet faster in its flight.  The button on the screen came into view.  A finger tapped it.  The jet accelerated pushing him deeper into the back of the seat.  “Ron,” he whispered, “wherever you’re hiding, just stay there.”

 

Images of flashing lights and of sirens screaming up and down the highway raced through the mind.  Images of helicopters flooding the park with light hovered in the thoughts.  He could imagine teams of searchers, their pack of dogs sniffing him out, slashing their way through the dense forest floor.

 

The only hope rested in Ron’s intimate knowledge of the park both inside and out.  If there was anybody that could elude a search, it was him.

 

Up ahead, the coast illuminated by the city lights and the evening activities of the seaside residents, came into view.  Again, Hal scanned the sky and sea for any hostile presence, but none could be seen in the darkness.  The jet soared over the land then reduced in speed.  The automatic pilot began its descent.

 

As he had feared, Hal looked down at the dome to see it surrounded by flashing lights.  Also, a swarm of helicopters were hovering above the shell and the surrounding area.

 

“Where to land?”

 

Noticing an area of darkness not covered by searchers, Hal seized control of the jet and maneuvered it over the spot.  Feet depressed the pedals and the engines rotated.   The jet touched down on a smooth patch of ground next to an old warehouse.

 

“Hey!” a voice called.

 

Panic set in.  The heart began to race.  Instincts flashed signals to make a mad dash for freedom, but instead Hal sought out an excuse for the unexpected presence.

 

A man ran up to him.  “Identify yourself.”

 

An idea instantly came to mind.  “Identify myself?  Are you some kind of idiot?  Who do you think comes flying in here on a personal jet?”

 

“Oh no sir, I didn’t mean….”

 

“It seems you’re a little confused and scared son—I’m an executive with the Board of Realtors.  I figured I better get down here and coordinate you idiots.”

 

“I…I apologize sir.  You need to go over there.   My boss is coordinating the search right now.”

 

“To hell with him son.  I act independently.”

 

“Of course sir.  My apologies ….”

 

“Leave already!”

 

Hal sighed in relief as the man ran back to a cluster of cars.  He figured time was in short supply and immediate action was needed.  He sprinted over to the back side of the warehouse and kicked in the door.

 

“Ron!”

 

Inching along a path into the darkness, all of a sudden something brushed a hand.  Hal reached out and felt the object.  “A plant?”  He thought it strange knowing the old warehouse had stood in disrepair for quite a long time.  The idea that a mouse must have used the abandoned building for housing and deposited a digested seed was the logical explanation.

 

A toe was stubbed with another step.  He reached down and felt a bucket filled to the brim with water.  “A bucket?  No mouse brought this in here.”

 

All of a sudden Hal had a funny feeling.  “Ron!” he cried out, “I know you’re in here.  Answer me.”

 

No response.  Nothing rustled about.

 

“Ron, if you’re here, answer me.”

 

He ran into another plant with the next step.

 

“The Governor is dead.  We’re being accused of killing him.”

 

“What?”

 

“Ron, you’re okay,” Hal sighed.  “Look, I don’t have time to explain.  We have to leave now.”

 

“Right!  Get out of here.”

 

“You got to listen to me,” pleaded Hal.  “Why do you think they’re here searching the park?”

 

Light filtering through cracks in the tattered ceiling flooded the warehouse.  Hal looked around at the garden Ron planted.  All the plants were in various stages of growth.  Some stood bare already yielding their fruit while others stood waiting for their fruit to ripen or to be picked.

 

“Why are they blaming us?”

 

“We got to go now Ron.”

 

“I can’t leave.”

 

“Come on.  We’re as good as dead if they find us.”

 

“I won’t survive if I leave,” cried Ron.

 

Barking dogs approached.  More light flooded in.

 

“Yes we will.  Now come on, we have to get out of here now.”

 

The dogs yapped louder and louder.  Voices shouted just outside the warehouse’s wide, double doors.

 

“You don’t understand,” said Ron.

 

Men started pounding on the doors.

 

“It’s over my friend.  Let’s go.”

 

Both of them raced to a side door and emerged under the lights of one of the helicopters.  Alerted to their presence, men began to swarm in.

 

“Follow me,” shouted Hal.

 

They bolted towards the jet.  Hal launched himself into the cockpit with Ron just behind.

 

“What is this?”

 

Hal slapped at a screen and the engines roared to life.  Feet slammed on the pedals.  The jet lifted off the ground.  He once again seized the control from the automatic pilot.  A touch from a finger sent them launching ahead.  The jet tore into the sky.  A sharp bank to the right put it on a course over the Pacific Ocean and hopefully for a while, safety.

Seeking Sanctuary

The jet streaked just feet above the ocean swells.  Hal’s senses were on full alert.  Eyes scanned the area left and right and above while searching for signs of danger.  Although Kenneth had never mentioned a decision by the corporate leadership to reserve any number of war machines, he believed they must have.  Certainly, he thought, they would have done so for an occasion to intercept and shoot down vigilantes fighting against their leadership. He could not help to suspect that ignoring such a scenario would amount to poor business planning.  If they had, then certainly at any time an F-35 or two would be hot in hot pursuit.  But where are they?  Maybe they can’t detect us?

 

Breaking the silence Ron asked, “Where in the world did you get this?”

 

“It’s Kenneth’s.”

 

“How….”

 

“Quiet.  I need time to think.”

 

For the moment, Hal reasoned that they were safely cloaked by gliding just under the radar covering the vast stretch of desolate space way out in the Pacific.  What he was not sure about, however, was the presence of freighters riding the high seas delivering cargo to any of the main continental ports.  If there were, then there could be no escape from either their radar systems working in conjunction with satellites covering an expansive perimeter