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      MOLLY
      
      
      
      by
      
      Pepper Herman
      
Chapter Seven
                                              
Saturday, November 9th
            Glancing out 
the window, Molly noticed a cat surreptitiously stalking a bird who was busy 
feeding on the grass.  The cat was fascinating to watch.  It’s moves, so sneaky, 
went unnoticed by the bird.  As the cat edged closer to its prey, Molly got the 
uncomfortable feeling that it was going to succeed in its quest.  She bounded to 
the window, rapped loudly on the pane, and the bird flew away.  The cat, also 
startled by the sound, made a hasty retreat.
            And there it 
was.  That little episode had sparked an idea.  She would stalk him, secretly 
tracking the Sibs till she learned their routine.
            So why not 
begin right now?  It was a lovely Saturday morning in November.  Why wait?  It 
would give her something to divert herself from Diego’s death which she was 
taking very hard.  She pulled a navy blue blazer over her gray cashmere sweater 
and gray flannel pants, gathered up her car keys, entered the Subaru and took 
off for West Philly where the Utopia compound was housed -- a mere fifteen 
minutes from her home in Merion.  
            She parked 
across from the large Victorian complex and waited.  At twenty after eleven some 
men, possibly watchdogs of Haissem’s, entered a Lincoln Town Car and drove 
around the back of the compound.  Within minutes, the car emerged down the long 
driveway, as the wrought iron gates parted allowing access to the street.  As 
she was about to follow, the front door opened and a group of cult members -- 
presumably parents and their children -- entered an SUV.  So these were the 
people Jay called the Sibs, she thought   The driver settled himself into the 
driver’s seat, and followed the Lincoln Town Car, as the iron gates closed 
behind them.
            Molly gave them 
their lead, then followed the van to its destination -- Fairmount Park -- where 
everybody piled out for, what became, a Utopia picnic in the park.
            Positioning her 
car a block away, Molly grabbed a paperback, seated herself on a park bench at 
an angle where she could easily observe the Sibs from a distance.  She noticed 
that most of them had very short haircuts or were completely shorn.  She scanned 
the group for what might have been Haissem, but she didn’t want to be caught 
staring, and they were too far away for her to see anyone’s face clearly.
            She withdrew 
her glasses from her purse and began to read, while periodically glancing at the 
children, who were playing ball.  Presently, an errant ball, kicked by one of 
the Sibs, came racing through the grass, landing at Molly’s feet. As she arose 
and walked to the back of the bench to bend over and retrieve it, the first 
thing she noticed was a pair of black, shiny boots.  She lifted her head slowly 
to see this striking figure standing before her.  He wore faded jeans and a 
beige turtleneck shirt topped with a black leather jacket.  His light brown hair 
was pulled back into a long ponytail.  She was stunned by his imposing 
presence.   He wore black sunglasses and had a pale, almost white complexion.  
Removing his sunglasses, she was startled by the intensity of his blue eyes as 
they peered into hers.  She felt her hatred becoming tinged with fascination.
            “Sorry,” he 
said, his face breaking into a warm smile.
            “That’s okay,” 
Molly answered, her heart pounding as she handed him the ball.
            “What are you 
reading?” he asked.
            “Oh, ‘Brave New 
World,’” she mumbled.
            “Huxley,” he 
replied, nodding.  “I remember that one.  Great premise.”
Suddenly, one of the Sibs, 
maybe seven years of age, came running up to get the ball.  
            “Father, can I 
have the ball now?” he asked.          
            “After you 
thank this nice lady for getting it for you,” Haissem replied.
            “Thank you 
miss,” the little boy said with shyness.
            Molly stared at 
him closely.  “You’re welcome, honey,” she said, patting his head. “What’s your 
name?”
            “Future,” he 
replied. 
            “Well, you take 
good care of yourself now, Future, you hear?”
            “I will,” he 
shouted, as he ran back to the others.
            Molly looked 
back at Haissem. So you are the one who is responsible for my son’s death, you 
son-of-a-bitch, she thought.
            “I’ll let you 
get back to your reading,” he said with warmth.  “Enjoy the day.”
            And he was 
gone.       
*****
Sunday, December 1st 
            Rob and Cate 
watched as the New York to Philadelphia shuttle taxied to a stop in front of 
terminal B2 at Philadelphia’s International airport. They were standing at the 
doorway of the incoming passengers as Octavius Gumbs walked down the ramp, a 
duffel bag slung over his shoulder.  He was tall and wiry and had a small 
beard.  His black hair was now streaked with gray.  He wore it rasta style with 
dreadlocks that hung to his shoulders.  He wasn’t exactly a person you could 
miss.  Amid smiles and stares of other passengers, he and Rob greeted each other 
with warm hugs and their special hand jive routine.  
            “Hey mon, you 
looking good, you know?”
            “Come say hi to 
my southern bride, man,” Rob said, placing his arm around Cate.
            “Oh now, she 
beautiful,” he said, planting a kiss on her cheek.  “I knew this guy would know 
how to pick a good lady.”
            “I’ve heard 
lots of stories about you, Octavius.  I’m glad you could come.  And thanks for 
offering to put Rob up with you over the Christmas holidays,” Cate smiled.
            “No problem.  
This here is my buddy.  He saved my life,” he said, as he playfully parried with 
Rob.
            Lifting up 
Octavius’ duffel, Rob said, “Let’s go.  Cate’s got a roast beef dinner that I 
know you can’t refuse.”
            “Oooo!  Sounds 
good,” Octavius chuckled.  “Sounds real good.”
            Rob and 
Octavius sat up half the night drinking and catching up on lost time.
Rob learned that, since 
‘Nam, Octavius had been a rum-runner, a waiter at several St. Sebastian resorts, 
and a ferry captain, ferrying vacationers to out-islands, until he’d saved up 
enough money to buy a used Boston Whaler, which he named ‘The Scrounger’.  
            On Monday 
morning, after Cate had left for the shelter, the Doomsdayers met at Molly’s 
house.  As far as Cate knew, Octavius was here to purchase some helicopter parts 
from Rob. 
            “So this is the 
famous Scrounger,” Ed said, extending his hand.  “Hi Octavius.  I’m Ed and this 
is Molly.”
            Octavius was 
grinning as he looked at Molly.  “I know, I know.  She call me on the phone last 
night and we talk, right?”
            Smiling, Molly 
nodded.  “That’s me.”  She touched his shoulder.  “You have no idea how much I 
appreciate you helping me with my plan.  When Rob told me you were a demolition 
expert, it all came together.”  She paused.  “I mean, a way to avenge my son 
Jay’s death.”  Her face clouded over.
            “Rob and me, we 
talk last night.  I got the picture.  Don’t worry, big Momma, you’ll be fine,” 
he said, eyes twinkling.
            Ed was staring 
at Rob.  “Hey, buddy, you know something?  You look pretty good.”
            “Yeah? Well, 
I’m feeling pretty good ... for a dead man, that is,” said Rob, sarcasm edging 
his voice.  “But you guys do too.”
            “My headaches 
have been few and far between, thank God,” said Molly.  “Actually, I feel okay, 
considering everything.”
            “Me too,” Ed 
added, puzzled.  I figured my pain would get much worse, but it hasn’t.  
Rossigian says he wants to do some tests after the holidays to see if it spread 
or maybe if it’s even in remission.  Who knows?”
            “Well, we’re 
not taking chemo.  And we take enough vitamins to choke a horse.  I guess we 
shouldn’t complain. Right?” said Rob.
            Turning to 
Octavius, Molly asked, So, what do you think, Octavius?  About getting Haissem, 
I mean.  I told you that I staked out his place enough to notice that he seems 
to go out on Saturdays somewhere between eleven in the morning and five in the 
afternoon.  Any ideas?”
            “I want to get 
to know that place ... what do they call it?”
            “Utopia.”
            “Utopia,” 
Octavius repeated.  “I want to observe them.”
            “You mean ... 
like ... their schedule?  Their routine?” she asked.
            “Right, big 
Momma. Routine.  That’s it.”
            “Listen,” said 
Molly, “take my Subaru and use it as long as you need it.”
            He smiled at 
her as he said, “You okay, lady.  You okay.  And when I am cool with it, I want 
to spend time with you, and teach you how to work explosives.  Then we can start 
to jive. “
            “But I want it 
to be safe, Octavius.  I have no intention of blowing myself up like Diego did.  
I feel I still have some time left, “ she said.
            “No problem,” 
he said, shaking his head.  “No problem.”
            “Damn,” Ed 
said.  It’s hard to believe he’s gone.  He was so much a part of us.  He never 
even said goodbye.”
            “He didn’t have 
to. He knew he had our support,” Molly replied in a sober tone.  “It was 
something he had to do.”
            There was a 
long silence.  A heaviness filled the room. When Ed spoke again, it was to Rob.  
“And you’re next, over Christmas.”
            Rob nodded in 
acknowledgement. “Last night, after Cate went to bed, I told the Scrounger 
everything about the Doomsdayers.”  Octavius nodded in affirmation.  “When he 
gets back to St. Sebastian, he’s going to make some contacts and figure how we 
can pull this thing off.”
            Octavius picked 
up his beer can and took a swallow.  “But right now we got to get that bastard 
... what’s his name?”  Octavius said, looking at Molly.
            “Haissem,”she 
said.
            “Haissem,” he 
replied, as a whispery laugh emanated from his throat.
 *****
  Friday, December 13th
            It was 3 a.m. 
on Friday morning when Octavius parked the Subaru around the corner from the 
imposing Victorian compound.  In the circular driveway sat two vehicles -- a 
Ford Expedition sport utility vehicle and a Lincoln Town Car with dark tinted 
windows.  Octavius had observed the family’s activity for ten days and learned 
that the SUV was used by the Sibs, while the Lincoln was reserved for Haissem.  
It was usually driven by one of his guards while two others sat on either side 
of him in the back seat. Also, it seemed like Molly’s observations about 
Haissem’s hours were right.
            Noting a 
warning sign that the property was protected by a wired six-foot high 
wrought-iron fence, he climbed an extension ladder, which he positioned in front 
of the Subaru, and cut the power lines to the fence.  Quickly making his way to 
the driveway, he scaled the fence.  Like an animal stalking it’s prey, he 
crawled to the underside of the Lincoln and, within seconds, attached the 
explosive with a magnet.  The plasticene charge was designed so that Molly would 
be able to trigger it by a radio-controlled activator from the Subaru.  
Before anyone inside the 
compound would ever realize that the electricity was off, he reunited the wires 
and exited the same way he entered.  He returned to the car and, with headlights 
off, drifted the car slowly down the road before turning them on again.  No 
hassles.  Phase One ... completed.
*****
            Twenty-four 
hours later, Molly and Octavius were sitting diagonally across from the Utopia 
compound.  The Subaru had been situated in such a way that they had a good 
vantage point, but could not be seen.  They were forced to wait with the heat 
turned off for almost three hours and both were shivering from the cold.  At 
1:22 p.m., they finally got the break they were waiting for.  
            “Oh my God,” 
she uttered.  “There he is.”
            Two men flanked 
him as they walked toward the Lincoln, while the third guard took his place in 
the driver’s seat.  The sun gleamed on his black boots as he stepped into the 
back of the car.  He was impressive -- no question.  Molly understood the 
charisma of this man and the draw he must have had on the Sibs.  Pausing before 
joining them, the last guard surveyed the area, then, apparently satisfied, 
entered the car.  The gates parted as the car left the compound. Allowing them 
their lead, Octavius and Molly laid back till the car was practically out of 
sight.  Only then did he place the key into the ignition and follow the Lincoln 
with caution, as it advanced through traffic.
            With concern in 
her voice, Molly said, “We can’t harm any innocent people.”
            “Don’t worry, 
big Momma, we wait,” Octavius replied.
            “I’m nervous 
Octavius.  And I’m scared.  But that man’s responsible for my son’s death.”
            “I know, lady.  
I know.”
            The Lincoln was 
passing the zoo.  The streets were congested with Saturday traffic.  They passed 
by Fairmount Park and a mini-mall.  Fifteen minutes elapsed.
They were approaching a 
residential neighborhood, which was, at the moment, deserted.  The timing looked 
good.
            “Okay, Momma,” 
Octavius said.  “This is it.  Just press that button, and I’ll keep on driving 
like nothing happened.”
            Molly’s hands 
shook as she began to place her finger on the detonator.  She froze in horror 
when, from out of nowhere, a teenage boy ran in front of them, chasing a 
football which had rolled into the street.  Honking the horn, Octavius swerved 
the car, just missing the boy who stuck his third finger up in an obscene 
gesture to the disappearing vehicle.
            “Oh shit.  I 
don’t know if I can do this,” Molly groaned.
            “You be fine.  
Be cool now, Momma.  Be cool.” 
            Octavius 
followed the car up Belmont Avenue where it eventually ended up at the  West 
Park Medical Office Building -- a unit of Mount Grace Hospital.  Haissem and two 
of his henchmen entered a side door of the hospital.  Octavius pulled the car 
into an apartment parking lot across the street  from the hospital and cut the 
ignition so as not to be noticed.  It was now 2 p.m.  
            Within twenty 
minutes, Haissem and his men returned, entered the vehicle and the driver took 
off down the road.  There were no cars around them as the Lincoln stopped for 
the red light.  This was it.  Octavius guided Molly’s hand to the detonator, 
where she placed her finger and pressed the button.  There was a deafening sound 
as the car instantly burst into flames.  At the same moment as the explosion, 
Octavius started up the Subaru and drove to the back exit of the parking lot 
which led to a back street, and casually drove away.  
            It was over.  
Only one thing was left now to be done.
            “You okay, 
Momma?”
            “I’m in shock, 
Octavius, but I’ll be okay,” Molly said in a shaky voice.
            It took them 
approximately twenty minutes to return to the compound.
Molly gazed out of the car 
window to make sure that the street was deserted.
Picking up a small paper 
bag, she said, “I’ll be right back.”
            She ran to the 
wrought iron fence and, taking precautions not to touch it, tossed the contents 
out of the bag.  As she turned to go, the small cards fluttered to the ground, 
their printed words sanctioning the downfall of Haissem.  
“Compliments of the 
Doomsday Club.”
 *****
            By six o’clock 
the same evening, it was all over the news.  Coleman Kramer, the local announcer 
on Channel 6 was saying...
            “This afternoon 
at around 2 pm a car exploded in the residential area of West Park, one block 
from Mount Grace hospital.  Although there were no other injuries, Channel 6 has 
since learned that the occupants of the vehicle were members of the cult group, 
Utopia, housed in West Philadelphia.  Hanna Long is on the scene in West 
Philadelphia with more on the story.  Hanna?”
            The TV camera 
panned on the outside gate of the compound. 
Curious on-lookers were 
crowding the area as Hanna Long spoke to the TV audience.
            “Cole, I’m 
standing in front of the private structure called Utopia, in West Philadelphia, 
which houses a group of followers who call themselves ‘Sibs.’  Pointing to the 
wrought iron fence, she said, “This fence is normally wired so that no one 
intrudes on their privacy, but not today.  Inside, the family is devastated by 
the news that their beloved leader,  Edmund Charles Woolverton,  better known to 
them as ‘Haissem’, and three of his guards, were killed in the explosion.  
            An interesting 
finding in this case were business cards that were strewn inside the gate of the 
compound with the words, ‘Compliments of the Doomsday Club’.  These cards have 
shown up in other area crimes in the past year, suggesting that, perhaps  a 
local group is somehow responsible for these disasters.
To date, it has the law 
enforcement officials baffled.  It’s a puzzle whose pieces just don’t seem to 
fit.  At least, not yet.  Back to you, Cole.”
            “Thanks, 
Hanna.  We’ll keep you updated with any further news on this story.  This is 
Coleman Kramer.  Back in a moment.”
Chapter 8
Index

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