The Man From Mars - Episode Fifteen

   There was a major clue spoken by the Officer handling the Police Dog. He said, "At first, Alice acted like this was our man, then all of a sudden she starts wagging her tail and this guy starts petting her."
   It was the first part of his statement that I was concerned about. That I was there man.
   If they were told, by the Secret Service or the FBI, that they were looking for a fugitive, and there was an "all-points bulletin" out for my arrest, what were the charges?
   Those agencies could easily put out an APB for my arrest without divulging what crime I committed, simply by saying, it was a matter of National security.
   When I got that call from Secret Service Agent Chad Smith while I was at the LaGuardia Airport, before I was smart enough to get rid of my personal cell phone, did he quickly put two and two together? Knowing I wouldn't be on that flight to Los Angeles? Would they break into my home to gather up clothing and other items which might have my scent on them, to give to blood hounds?
    I was beginning to wonder about my paranoia. Was I driving myself insane? Seeing conspiracies in every corner? In every face I saw? Or in every place I went?
   No, he said the dog at first acted like I was there man. Then what made the dog change its mind? Why was a trained attack police dog being friendly with me?
   I wanted to leave the metropolitan area of New York to figure out some questions I had pertaining to the amulet. The meaning of it, the power it supposedly has, and the why? Why did the Man from Mars give it to me.
   But, so far, all this trip has done is bring up more questions. More queries to be answered.
   I was beginning to think he didn't do me any favors by giving me the amulet. I started to think he chose me at random, just to release himself of the burden the amulet imposed on its owner.
   It was just before noon so I made a quick decision. If the police roadblock had been initiated, because of the Secret Service, then all of the Police Officers involved would have to make a full report on all their activity that day. All these reports would first, be poured into some kind of government super computer to analyze and look for any key words or phrases, giving any clues that the Officers might have over looked. If nothing set off all the bells and whistles on the super computer, a group of criminal profilers would go over the reports, one by one, looking for the smallest hint of my whereabouts. One of them would surely notice that the police dog, Alice, at first acted as if I was the suspect they were looking for, then suddenly became friendly with a complete stranger. Something those dogs are trained not to do. The profiler, reading this account, would surely see the discrepancy and report it to their superiors. The bus would be quickly located by the internal GPS device, which monitors the divers route and speed, to assure the safety and well being of the passengers.
   It is also used by law enforcement to track potential criminals trying to escape capture that way, or if the bus was ever hijacked by some nut. The bus company new, at any time, day or night, right where the bus was on any given road.
   The Greyhound I was riding on came upon a truck stop. It was on the city boarder of Zanesville, Ohio. It was a refueling stop.
   All passengers were asked not to get off the bus because of the short time it would take to fill-up the diesel tanks. If anyone did leave the bus, it is there responsibility to be back on board on time because the driver would not do a head count once the bus was ready to leave.
   That was my quick decision. I got off the bus, with no intention of getting back on.
   I walked over to a nearby eatery and looked for a place to sit. The only place was along a long diner. No tables in the place, just a long counter with bolted down stools that bellied-up to it.

   I sat down and a cranky fortyish looking lady asked, "What you'll have?"
   I said, "I like to start out with a cup of coffee, black, no sugar, while I look over the menu."
   She grunted her disapproval, never smiled, and turned around to get a cup, a saucer, and the glass pot of coffee.
   She turns to me, holding the saucer with the cup on top of it, and moves to place it in front of me. A quarter inch from the counter-top, she drops the saucer and the cup, in a definite display of annoyance. She must have done this a thousand times, because as the saucer rattled to a stop, and the cup twirled around on top of it, she started pouring the hot black coffee into the cup. Bringing both to a quiet standstill. Never spilling a drop or breaking the ceramic drinking container.
   I said thank you and she grunted again.
   To save time I quickly ordered two eggs over easy, toast, and hash browns. A staple at almost any diner.
   She wrote down my order on a ticket, gave it to the chef, and walked down the counter, filling up all the coffee cups along the way.
   When she passed by me again I asked, "Is there a local car dealership that sells cheap used cars nearby?"
   She replied, "Do I look like I sell cars at this joint?"
   "Sorry I asked," I said.
   A patron, sitting a couple of chairs down heard me and said, "There is a local transit here, it stops right outside this place. Take the next one heading into town and look for Wally's wail of a deal. You can't miss it. He'll have what you need."
   I thanked the gentleman, ate the rest of my meal, and wondered how the hell this place stayed in business with such a cranky waitress.
   My next stop? "Wally's Wail Of A Deal."

To Be Continued...

Next Thursday.

This is,

Feeling A Little Paranoid Myself After Writing That

Jim Hauenstein,

And,

“In this world only the paranoid survive.”
- Dean Koontz, -

That is my story and I am sticking to it!

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