The Masked Family (9 page)

 

*****

Chapter Seventeen

Lilly, Pennsylvania

Saturday, April 5, 1924, 10:45 PM

 

Olenka had never imagined that there would come a time when the Ku Klux Klan would protect her...but the time was now.

She and Max Beckenbauer--the young Klansman with the noose still hanging around his neck--were running from her neighbors, who wanted to kill him. The chase ended when columns of white-robed, hooded men suddenly marched around the corner, bearing torches and spanning the street from side to side.

The Lilly men who'd been after Olenka and Max stopped running and started backing away. Instead of facing a lone Klansman, now they faced an army.

For his part, Max kept running headlong toward the Klan's ranks, pulling Olenka along by the hand. The two of them plunged into the KKK army, ducking into the space between columns.

Just as they entered the white-robed ranks, Olenka heard shouting behind her. She glanced back over her shoulder just in time to see a blast of water slam into the marchers at the head of the formation.

Hoods flew and men fell from the force of the water. The Klansmen stopped moving forward, though Max and Olenka kept running between them.

They must be using the fire hose.
It was the only thing Olenka could think of that could shoot that much water with that much power.

We got out of the way just in time.

She and Max pushed deeper into the ranks, arms brushed by the white linen robes arrayed on either side. Olenka felt like a little girl again, dashing between bedsheets strung on back yard clotheslines.

She began to wonder, though, when she would run out of bedsheets. The army stretched on and on with no sign of ending, hundreds of men never breaking formation in spite of the boy and girl running between them and the fire hose bombarding their front rank.

At least until the gunfire started.

Olenka heard the unmistakable crack of a gunshot far behind her, from the direction of the train station. Seconds after the first shot, she heard another.

And another.

It was then that the Klansmen broke formation. In a flurry of white robes, they fell out of their marching columns and rushed toward the front of the ranks. Many hoisted revolvers from under their robes and loaded them on the fly.

It was the time Olenka had dreaded from the start, when the Klan had first rolled into town. It was the storm, the explosion of danger and death that she'd recognized from her childhood in Europe...different in face and form but always the same in spirit.

Her heart pounded as she ran through the army. Ahead of her, Max cleared a path as best he could, deflecting the worst bumps and knocks and shoves from the Klansmen crowding in the opposite direction.

Olenka heard more gunshots--far, then close, then far. One side was firing at the other, she guessed--the townspeople versus the Klan.

Lilly had become a battleground.

The shots came faster--far, close, far, far, close--then all at once. Max zig-zagged through the Klansmen, ducking and dodging...and then, he came to a sudden stop, colliding with a giant with shoulders as broad as a silo. Olenka caught herself just as she was about to slam into both Max and the giant.

"Goin' the wrong way, sonny." The huge man wore a hood with the mask flap down, revealing his blubbery, bristly jowls. "Fight's up there!" With that, he picked up Max and turned him around to face the direction of the shooting.

"We'll show 'em!" Max sidestepped the giant and pumped a fist in the air. "Show 'em what happens when you mess with the KKK!"

The giant roared and waved a revolver in the air. "Let's go get 'em!" he said, charging forward with the rest of the stampede.

Max let loose a howling battle cry...then spun and ran in the other direction. He snapped up Olenka's hand on the way past and swept her along with him.

They continued to weave and duck through the sea of white, pressing toward the rear of the ranks. Passing Klansmen elbowed them in the sides and stepped on their feet, but no one gave them a second look.

There was too much excitement up ahead. The gunshots crackled like popcorn over a fire, one on top of another.

Finally, Max and Olenka burst free of the crowd. A few straggling Klansmen hurried past them, and then they were clear.

Even though gunshots cracked the air, and the street behind them was packed with an army in white, Olenka felt like she and Max were alone.

Max stopped running and let go of her hand. "We made it." He bent over and leaned his hands on his knees, heaving to catch his breath.

Olenka panted and winced at the stitch in her side. She listened to the continuing gunfire and was glad she'd gotten away from it.

For now, at least.

"Now what?" said Max.

"You have to get away from here." Olenka held her side and tried to walk off the stitch. "Where are you from?"

"Johnstown," said Max.

"And you rode the train from there?" said Olenka.

Max straightened and waved in the direction of the train station. "I won't be ridin' out the same way, that's for sure. I don't think I could get near the train without getting shot."

Olenka thought for a moment as she paced. It wasn't easy to think with all the noise going on in the background.

"Okay," she said finally. "I know what we'll do."

"You know where your father keeps the car keys?" said Max.

"We don't have a car." Olenka started walking down the street. "Follow me."

 

*****

By the light of the moon and the burning cross behind her, Olenka pointed at the gap in the tree line along the edge of the field. "There it is," she said. "That trail runs most of the way to Portage."

"You mean I'll have to walk to Portage?" Max blew out his breath, making his blonde bangs flutter. "I was thinking more along the lines of transportation with wheels."

"So hitch a ride in Portage," said Olenka. "Or catch a train. You might not want to hang around there too long, though."

Max looked at the ground and nodded. "Folks'll be huntin' for us, I bet. For the Klan."

"You should stay away from police," said Olenka.

"It's not the police I'm worried about." Just then, Max noticed the noose around his neck. He lifted it over his head and hurled it at the flaming cross.

Olenka heard an exchange of gunfire in the distance. The battle seemed to be winding down, but people were still shooting at each other.

"I wouldn't come back here anytime soon, if I were you." Olenka smiled. "Definitely not wearing a mask."

"Don't worry." Max shook his head and waved his hands emphatically. "I won't press my luck." The burning cross caught his eye, and he stared at it, his face bathed in flickering red light.

"Tell me something," he said, still watching the cross.

"What?" said Olenka.

"Why'd you help me?" Max looked at her out of the corner of one pale blue eye.

Olenka pushed her jet-black hair behind her ears. "Because Father asked me to."

"That's it?" said Max. "The only reason?"
Olenka shrugged. "I thought you were all right, even though you were Klan."

"Thanks." Max smiled, then looked away. "I think I'm done with the Klan, you know."

"That's good," said Olenka.

"My heart was never in it," said Max. "After tonight...all this...who needs it, right?"

More gunshots crackled in the distance. "Right," said Olenka.

Max sighed and turned to her. "Anyway, thank you. Thanks for helping me."

"Good luck getting home," said Olenka.

"Thanks." Max reached out and shook her hand. "You should probably come with me. This could be a rough night in town."

Olenka smiled and nodded. "I'll manage."

"Okay." Max released her hand, then turned and entered the trail. "Better get goin'."

"Goodbye," said Olenka.

"See you later," said Max, giving her a little wave over his shoulder.

"Okay," said Olenka, though she didn't expect to ever see him again. He'd be an idiot to come back to Lilly; people would never forget the face of the Klannie they'd almost hanged. If he ever showed himself around town again, he'd likely disappear forever into the mountains the way people sometimes did in those parts.

It was no more likely that Olenka would see him somewhere else. She rarely left Lilly and had never even been to Johnstown. Other than turning against her own father to save Max's life, Olenka was a good daughter, dedicated to the demanding responsibilities of tending the family. Her father, brothers, and sisters had all relied on her since her mother's death a year ago.

So no, Olenka didn't expect to see Max ever again. As he walked down the trail in the moonlight and firelight, she believed it was the last she would see of him in her lifetime.

She was only partly right.

Olenka would not see Max again anytime soon...but she would see him. If not in another lifetime, she would see him in what felt like one, at least.

A lot would happen in the fourteen years before Olenka Pankowski saw Max Beckenbauer again.

 

*****

"But you
have
to piss on my greatest enemy of all time!" said El Yucatango. "What kind of super-pal
are
you?"

"Look! I just don't have to pee right now!" Cary spread his hands and shrugged.

"Then
spit
on him at least!" El Yucatango was urinating on the base of a bronze statue along the side of the road just outside Puerto Peñasco. He turned from side to side and shook his penis up and down so his urine would cover as much of the statue as possible.

Sighing, Cary stepped up next to El Yucatango and read the urine-drenched bronze plaque tipped into a granite marker at the foot of the statue.

El Demonio del Diamante.
These words were biggest and cast in raised block letters.

A line of smaller, italicized words ran below them:
El Campeón del Mundo.

"His name," said Cary. "It's 'demon' something?"

"The Diamond Demon." El Yucatango said it like it was the name of the most hated war criminal of all time.

"What's 'c
ampeón del mundo
'?"

El Yucatango aimed his urine at the plaque as he translated. "It means 'world champion.' What it
should
say there is
cobarde, traidor, y perro asqueroso
."

"What does that mean?"

"Coward, traitor, and filthy dog." El Yucatango hawked up a load of phlegm and spit it on the statue's stomach while he continued to pee.

Cary didn't think El Demonio del Diamante looked like a coward or traitor, but who knew with statues? Apparently, the man himself was very different from the replica.

From looking at the statue, Cary would have thought El Demonio del Diamante was nothing but strong and heroic. Two times life-size, he stood with arms held high overhead and legs pressed together, bulging muscles glinting in the bright sunlight. His body was like an arrow, the arms fanned like fletchings and the legs and feet the arrowhead.

The stylized emblem on the statue's chest and mask was that of a huge diamond, its many symmetrical facets tapering into a perfect point. The strong, square line of his jaw was visible through the mask, suggesting physical power and noble character.

In other words, he looked like the type of man a super-hero would team up with instead of piss and spit on...but El Yucatango wasn't holding anything back in the bodily fluids department.

"Come on, Beacon," he said, still spraying the statue with what seemed like a never-ending supply of urine. "
Spit
on him! He's our
enemy
!"

"Is this the 'small thing' you wanted my help with?" said Cary.

"Close, but no ceegar," said El Yucatango. "Now spit!"

Half-heartedly, Cary mustered up a gob of saliva and spat it on the toe of one of the statue's bronze boots. "So why is this statue here?" he said, dabbing the corner of his mouth with a knuckle.

Incredibly, El Yucatango kept pissing. "Puerto Peñasco is his home town. He was born here, and he came back to live here when he retired."

"You mean he's here now?"

"Sí, Beacon." Finally, El Yucatango's urine stream faded to a trickle. "Our enemies have all gathered in one place. Fate has brought us here together."

Cary turned and gazed down the road at the edge of town--a shopping center and McDonald's on one side, a 7-11 convenience store and a souvenir shop on the other. American comforts for American tourists at a Mexican beach town. He saw nothing ominous, nothing that gave him a bad feeling about what could happen there.

Was it because his luck was on the upswing...or was he just on the wrong track? Were Glo and Late even there at all? Maybe Glo had gotten it wrong, or plans had changed, and Cary would never see the kids again.

If Glo and Late were indeed somewhere up ahead, Cary's arch-enemies Crystal and Drill would be there, too. They weren't going to hand the kids over without a fight. Even if Cary got the kids away from them, what could he do next? After all, Crystal and Drill were the kids' birth parents, and Cary was just a big nobody in the eyes of the law.

Correction: if he took the kids, he would become a kidnapper in the eyes of the law. The law-abiding Hurry would become a criminal and a fugitive. Could he deal with that, he wondered? Would he be strong and smart enough to keep the kids off the radar and out of the hands of the good guys and bad guys alike?

Wouldn't it take a better man than he to pull that off? Someone who was better at not letting people down?

For a moment, he thought about giving up and turning back. Now was the time, before he set foot in Puerto Peñasco, before he committed what might be the biggest and last mistake of his life.

He didn't think about it for long, though. Leaving those kids with Drill would be the same as feeding them to lions, and he knew it.

"Enough practice." El Yucatango zipped up the fly of his chinos as he waddled over from the statue. "I'm ready to piss on the real thing now."