| General Fiction posted March 10, 2025 | Chapters: |
...14 15 -16- 17... 
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I woke up this mornin' feelin' fine...
A chapter in the book No - Say It Ain't So!
No! Say It Ain't So, Ch. 21-22
by Wayne Fowler
In the last chapter Trump enlisted Tom to be his confidante, his ‘comfort dog’.
This is a long post – sorry, but time is of the essence!
This is a long post – sorry, but time is of the essence!
Chapter Twenty-one
Phil
(safe house)
Phil
(safe house)
I heard the garage door lock, glad that I’d remained dressed. I’d closed the bedroom door before retiring, not crazy about being locked in, if anyone even locked it, but saw no better way to give myself the minute I needed to get into the attic, and the stool pulled up behind me. As quickly and quietly as I could, I eased the covering board back into place.
“He’s not here, I heard an unfamiliar voice say. I could tell that the bedroom light was on and someone, or ones, were poking around in the room. Next, I heard movement around the house. At least, I thought I did. It might have been my imagination since that’s what they would probably be doing.
“The back door’s unlocked.”
I imagined two men going out to the backyard. I couldn’t tell, but they probably triggered the security lights. I wondered if the guard was one of them or if he might be lying in a pool of blood.
“Here,” a voice declared. “He climbed to the roof. Maybe made it around the fence.”
I could tell that one of them was trying to climb the rope, but was having trouble, grunting. The other reentered the house and went back out through the garage, presumably to go around the house to look at the other rope. Soon enough, I could hear them talking to one another.
“No tracks. He’d shoot to get away from the guard shack, around behind the wall.”
“What’s out that way?” the man still in the backyard asked. “I’m coming around. I’ll go the other way. Meet me behind the back fence.”
I no longer heard them. After making certain that the access cover was exactly in place, I settled in for a wait. I figured to wait at least until full daylight, not wishing to have to use a light or to chance noise that might carry in the night hours.
Comfortable enough, I managed several naps.
+++
I saw no movement at the guard shack. But that didn’t tell me anything. The windows were not positioned to see much. I could get to the attic before anyone made it to the house, so I felt all right moving around. I did stay close to, or actually in the bedroom, handy to the closet and attic access.
At midmorning, I saw movement out front. The guard must have received a phone call because he was running toward the house with gusto, in a hurry. I scrambled to the attic hideout.
He made a furious room-to-room search, taking no more than twenty seconds. I heard the shower curtain being torn from its cheap hooks, which reminded me that it had been too long since my last shower. He went out the back door, presumably to look at the rope. I heard the knots slap against the aluminum siding.
After he left, retreating to his post, I chanced returning down and into the house, but only as far as where I could see out the front window. I had no way of knowing whether he remained in his shack or quit it and drove away. Wherever his transport was, if he even had any, I couldn’t see it. I was the veritable sloth with my movement about the house. I would have made a sniper wearing a ghillie suit proud. I’m sure that careful observation would have been my end.
I finished a book and a half before it became too dark to read. Unfortunately, it was not dark enough to execute my plan. Taking no unnecessary risks, I waited for full dark in the attic. I’d guessed the timing right. Again, I slothed my way to, and out the back door. No one relocked it, so that was good.
Soon enough, I learned why the one guy did so much grunting trying to climb the rope. Without gloves, it was tough. Making it more difficult yet, was the fact that the wall of the house was about two feet away, not that I would want all the racket involved with clamoring up it anyway. Then I had to crawl over the aluminum eaves that threatened to bust right off the 50-to 60-year-old structure. It took a while, but I made it.
After lying down on the roof to recover, coming down was a snap. Then I calmly walked the perimeter around the backside of the block fence to the locked garage door where entry was made by the searchers, as well as supplies delivery. My lock pick had it open in less than two minutes. Taking no chances, I tucked the hidden box under my arm and retraced my steps back into the house. I risked pitching the box to the roof, but quickly scooted to the front corner of the house to watch for the guard, if there even was one.
Several minutes later I was again in the attic with the cell phone on its charger just below me on the closet floor.
Half an hour later, I was calling Tom.
+++
“You’re kidding!” I screamed in a whisper. “You’re his best bud?”
“His only bud to hear him tell it. There’s no one he can trust; certain he would be committed if he told about being out of his body.”
“But Schlape?” I asked. “Must have been his people who came for me.”
Tom agreed.
“I’ll come for you this evening,” Tom said. “Trump…”
“Wait, let’s think this through. I don’t think I should go home. Probably somebody sitting in a car in the street, or in the dark in my living room every night. And before you offer, I’ll bet Schlape has you checked out. Your history and resumé is clean, but you thought he didn’t trust you.”
“Well, even if he does, he’ll check you out thoroughly, even to asking your neighbors. ‘Here’s my card, if you see anything fishy…’”
Tom was silent after all that.
“But what you can do, is check on Google maps or Google Earth. See what’s around here in case I have to run. And you could call Hakeem. Tell him about Schlape and my two visitors. See if the place is still guarded.”
“I can do all that. And I can bring you some bananas. If there’s a guard I can tell him my boss got bananas and oranges mixed up. And I’m thinking about trying to convince Trump to go slow on killing ObamaCare. Suggest he leave something for the Republican Congressmen to complain about, that a complaining workforce is a healthy workforce. You know…”
“Great idea,” I said. “Maybe he’ll leave it alone until the rest of our plan comes together.”
We signed off with an agreement that my phone should be in his pocket and silenced.
Chapter Twenty-two
Tom
(off duty)
Tom
(off duty)
“Hello, Mr. Speaker,” I said once connected to Hakeem.
“My man! Tom, after what you guys pulled off, you can call me Hakeem. What’s up?”
“Are you aware, sir, that the safe house was raided?” I imagined Hakeem’s face draining of blood.
“What happened?”
“Well, sir, from what I understand, and I didn’t get every detail, our friend eluded them.” I knew how, but no one else needed to know.
“Where is he now? Is he safe?”
“Safe might be a relative term, but yes. He’s back in the safe house hiding from the guard. That is… if there is a guard. We don’t know if the place is guarded or not. Whether any more food will be delivered. And if the event happens again, will the other not-so-friendly friend be cared for.”
“How many times have they switched back and forth?” Hakeem asked.
“I believe at least four. If more, then it was short duration, and I don’t know about it.”
“And can we predict a routine?”
“No, sir. And believe me, we’ve tried.”
“What’s your theory on how this raid happened?”
I thought it was a ridiculous question for someone so smart, but he was grasping at straws, hardly believing what he was hearing about something pretty incredible in the first place.
“We believe it was Robert Schlape’s doing. Trump met with him yesterday. And I don’t know, but I’m sure it wasn’t the first time. I’ll bet you could learn that Phil’s picture was shown around several circles until some MAGA person offered intel.” I could hear Hakeem’s head nodding.
“I’ll get back to you. Soon. And thank you. Both of you.”
I then did the rest of my homework, learning that there was a dirt road less than a mile due north through the forest. It might be difficult terrain and hard to keep a straight route, but not impossible. With a flashlight and a compass… And someone in a car with headlights on… Phil could be picked up and taken to a motel thirty minutes from the time he ran straight from the back of the house. The only problem was that it would take me at least five minutes to get from sleep to my car. And then forty, maybe a few more since I wouldn’t know exactly where he would pop out of the woods. We would have to be in phone contact to prevent him being picked up by the wrong person, by someone working for Schlape.
I drove to the dirt road behind the safe house. Estimating where Tom’s pick-up point might be was 48 minutes – in daylight. I placed a milk jug filled with water at the base of a big oak. It was partly to assist my return, and partly for Phil some drinking water, should he need it. Then I drove on to where I thought there should be a Y intersection that would lead to a state highway. A little burg about ten miles on was supposed to have a motel. But I thought that would be the first place checked and planned to drive on to find a place less likely. At the next burg, about twelve miles further, there was an intersection of highways. To the left was a small city with several motels, some chains, and a few small independents. Now, as long as I recognized the Y in the dirt road, I should be able to get us out of the woods – so to speak.
I felt comfortable enough to check on the guard shack.
“Hey, Bud. Bring more oranges?” the guard asked.
“Nah. My boss got his fruits mixed up. Don’t know oranges from bananas. I held up a bunch of green-tinted bananas. “Any chance I could see him? Give the boss a positive report?” I thought it wouldn’t hurt to ask, feel the guy out, see what he’d say.
“Sorry man. Protocol.”
“Yeah, protocol. Well, then. Guess I don’t need to go on. Unless you want me to.”
“I'll take ‘em in. Need a stretch anyway.”
“Help yourself to a couple. It’s a big bunch. Or call to him and make a trade for oranges.” I laughed, still trying to figure him out. My guess at that point was that he wasn’t on duty the day the two Schlapes showed up.
“So, you’re here 24/7. Day and night, day after day?”
“Nah, twelve on, twelve off. And only six days a week. Be nice, though, if it was the same day each week. They slipped around and changed it up this week. Gave me my day off when my wife had to work.”
“That’s management for ya,” I commiserated. That answered that. The replacement guard trick.
I called Phil to give him what I’d learned. I was going to hike in from the back the first chance I got to stash a flashlight and a compass. And to give him an analysis of the hike he would face.
Then I hightailed it to the White House to read Trump to sleep. Let him know how Bilbo would fare against trolls.
Throughout his reading, I wondered what would be the outcome if I renamed Thorin Oakenshield, the leader of the dwarves, Robert Schlape, or something extremely close – Roberlin Schlapekenshield. Could I get Trump to open up? Would it be worth the risk? Might Trump demand to see the coincidentally similar name in the book himself?
No way. Not worth the risk.
I was more able to get into the book by the time the Bilbo troop reached the singing elves in the Misty Mountains.
+++
My phone vibrated just as I reached my car – Hakeem.
“Tom. Bad news. But it could be worse. Schlape or somebody found out where our friend was hidden.”
I froze. No! I’d just talked to him two hours ago.
“The safe house was raided two nights ago. But our friend escaped.”
“Hold up, Mister… Hakeem. You have old news. Today, I found out that Phil deceived the raiders and avoided them. He’s safe back in the safe house.”
Hakeem was silent for a moment. I was hoping he wasn’t mad that he hadn’t heard the news earlier.
“Well, your good news is better than my good news, that they didn’t get him. We were using Allied Security, the same company that has the contract on the DC Federal buildings. We’ll change that. And change where we put them.”
“That’s a shame. It seemed ideal. Keeping our friend under wraps when he’s the other guy is a challenge.”
“Do you think it’s workable if the switch happened tonight?” Hakeem asked. “It would be a lot smoother with our good friend.”
“I’ll do what I can to make it so,” I said.
+++
“Phil. Hope I didn’t wake you. You have to obscure your attic hideout. I was just talking with Hakeem and he’s working on getting you to a different place with a different set of guards. But if Trump comes back while you’re in the attic, it would be a problem.”
“Hmmm. I should have done a little more thinking myself. What if the switch happened while I was in the attic? Trump could get me killed getting out of here!”
I had to chuckle at that scene.
Phil continued. “Glad you guys are a step ahead. I need to relock the back door, as well.”
I’d already told him about the bananas and the garage door to be opened for him. I also told him about my recon work in the woods when I called him earlier. It was getting complicated. But I’m sure Phil would trade my complications for his freedom in a stroke.
photo from FanArtReview: FamousHouse!20 by nikman
Phil Jansen: woke up one day as Donald Trump
Donald Trump: woke up one day as Phil
Tom McQuin: White House butler
Betty Goodman: White House Chief of Staff
Dr. Schweitz: White House doctor
Hakeem Jeffries: as himself, House minority leader
Kirsten: Trump press secretary
Pate': 3rd daughter of the President
Robert Schlape: fixit man for Trump (using his real name, even here in FanStory, could be fatal)
Jeffrey McKnight: Mar-a-Lago member who owns a yacht
Sarah Huckabee Sanders: Governor of Arkansas
Tom Cotton: Senator from Arkansas
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Phil Jansen: woke up one day as Donald Trump
Donald Trump: woke up one day as Phil
Tom McQuin: White House butler
Betty Goodman: White House Chief of Staff
Dr. Schweitz: White House doctor
Hakeem Jeffries: as himself, House minority leader
Kirsten: Trump press secretary
Pate': 3rd daughter of the President
Robert Schlape: fixit man for Trump (using his real name, even here in FanStory, could be fatal)
Jeffrey McKnight: Mar-a-Lago member who owns a yacht
Sarah Huckabee Sanders: Governor of Arkansas
Tom Cotton: Senator from Arkansas
Artwork by nikman at FanArtReview.com
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