Martin looked at his watch. It was past ten and the Tram was due in a few minutes at the Greenfield Stop. Once it came, it was a short ride to Shadyside where Raoul lived. He ran up the hill and down to the Station, just as the Cross City was pulling in. It was ten thirty when he reached the Station. Based on his map scan, Raoul’s St.
Charles Street address was only two blocks away. According to the information in the DataFile, he lived there with his wife and sister Carla, who interestingly was engaged to a man in Security. Martin had taken note of that added piece of information. He walked quickly and in a few minutes he was looking at a large, narrow three story brick townhouse left over from the Victorian era of 19th Century Pittsburgh. He couldn’t see lights, but he went up to the front door and slid his ID card into the security slot. He hoped someone was up. There was no response so he began to back down the steps when a light came on and the door opened slowly. A large man stood there in shorts and no shirt.
“Raoul? Raoul Lopez-Hernandez, I’m Martin McDonald, Kurt Sloan’s friend. Sorry for coming so late, but I live in the same house as Kurt. I’m looking for him. Have you seen him?” Martin said quickly.
Raoul didn’t reply. He stared at Martin for a few seconds as he held a mug in his hand. Martin could smell the beer.
“I know who you are. You came up on the scanner, that’s why I opened the door. To answer your question, he was here earlier, working late, I think. Just for a few minutes,” Raoul replied gruffly, not opening the door any more than half way. “Are you worried about an Anglo, man?” he asked sarcastically.
“Well, yes, actually. I haven’t seen him today and there’s something I wanted to talk to him about. He’s always in his room working on his computer, but not tonight. It’s a bit unusual, for him,” Martin replied.
Raoul looked at Martin and said, “Man, are you a bit loco. I told you he was working late. Maybe he met someone. It does happen, even for an Anglo. Besides that, what are you doing here at this fuckin’ hour?” he said beginning to close the door.
“No, listen, give me a couple of minutes. It’s very important really and I need your help,” Martin replied putting his hand on the solid wooden door.
Raoul looked at him and said, “McDonald, what do you really want with Sloan?”
“He’s your friend, right? I need to talk to him. He was doing historic work for the Administration at the Castro Library with a Dr. Alexander. I have some important questions about it, for my own work. I stopped by to see him tonight and it looks like his room is cleaned out, as if he left. So frankly, I got curious and I need to speak to him. He mentioned you as his friend, so that’s why I came by so late. So my question, if he did go, where would a person like him go?”
“What do you mean, a person like him? Jesus, he’s just a guy trying to survive in what used to be his country.
But it’s not his country, anymore, it’s ours,” Raoul countered, as they talked in the doorway. “Christ, you might as well come in now, I’m wide awake.”
Martin came in looking around the rooms as he followed Raoul into the narrow townhouse. “Look I’ll only be a minute, but if I’m hearing you right, he came by here, earlier. Did he say he was going somewhere? If he did, where was he going and why?” Martin asked anxiously.
“Hold on there, McDonald. I never said anything like that. He stopped by, I said that. I don’t know if he took off or where he is. I assume he’s going back to his room, in your house in Greenfield. I don’t know what you mean by taking off. If you mean like in leaving, I have no clue that’s what he’s doing, but if he did leave, you’d be the reason. He told me about your conversations,” he said sarcastically.
“He’s an Anglo. He’s the enemy, as far as I’m concerned. Has been and still is!” Martin responded.
“Jesus Christ, man. He’s a man working for this Administration, our Administration. He’s a man who stayed while everyone else he knows, left. I know him. He’s a good man. I don’t know you and I don’t want to know you. You better get out of here, McDonald,” he said, his voice rising in anger.
“Listen, this man works in an important department for this Administration. I don’t trust him. I have to know where he is and if he has left. I’ll find out whether you help me or not, but I want to know if he left for good, where’s he headed and why.”
“Let me make this clear to you one last time. I don’t know what his plans are, but as I said, if he has left, you may be the reason. Maybe I’m the reason. You don’t get it. There is nothing left for him here. He grew up here.
His family lived here for hundreds of years. My God, man, what’s it to you where he goes or what he does.
What, are you looking for points, for turning in an Anglo? How many points can you get for turning him in?
He’s a bookworm, a historian. He’s absolutely harmless.”
“No one’s absolutely harmless. Besides, I have some questions for him about the work he was doing. He had access to the historic plans of the canals, roadways, walkways, subways, and water systems of the old country.
That’s important information, Raoul. Important to our survival and important to our enemies. If in the wrong hands, who knows, it could be used against us. In case you don’t know it, water is our life blood.”
“Well what do you expect me to do, McDonald? He is a friend. If he would leave, I can understand it. He has no family here. Maybe he decided he wants to live with what’s left of his family. You must understand that. He’s not the kind of person who would want to cause harm to anyone, that’s just not the Kurt Sloan I know, Anglo or no Anglo. Go see the Administration. Have them check into the data. Certainly they can go back and check the work that he had been doing,” Raoul calmly replied.
“You’re missing the point. If he gets to another border country with any information, say, Columbia, a systems expert could extract valuable information that might give them an advantage over our government. That’s what I would be afraid of, that’s what I’m trying to avoid. Can’t you see that?”
“McDonald, I think you’re way ahead of yourself,” Raoul replied. “Listen, go to the Administration, I have to get some sleep.”
“Okay, maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think so. He may be your friend, but our government has real enemies.
The problem I have, if he has left Pittsburgh for good, I don’t know what all he might’ve taken. Your friend or not means nothing to me, because I don’t trust him. Not for a second. I just want to talk to him. For your information only, this wasn’t just my suspicion. Two months ago, Security came to me. They wanted me to get some information on Sloan because he was working in a potentially sensitive area and was an Anglo. He apparently began to do a lot of work on his off-time, so they wanted to find out what he was doing. They came to me with rewards attached. I talked with him, tried to find out what he was working on, but all we did was get into arguments.”
“You were also snooping around his room, McDonald. That I know and Kurt knew. So you’re not much of a detective.”
“Well, he must have something to hide because tonight his room is empty and all his belongings are gone. He has left. Friend or not, he represents the old way of thinking, no matter what he may have led you to believe.
Don’t you see we just can’t let him leave and take information that will hurt our country,” he finished with an almost desperate flourish.
Raoul looked at Martin and said, “Listen, McDonald I don’t want our new country to be hurt by anyone, but I don’t think Kurt Sloan is any security risk. He talked at times about visiting his sister in Scotland.
“Listen, I’m trying to put this all together. That’s why I came here because you were his best friend and I thought you may have some clues for me. This may be very important to the security of our country,” Martin said, emphazing our. There was a brief silence as the two just looked at each other. Then Martin continued, “If I heard you right, Sloan told you he might leave some day.”
“Yes, a couple of times. He was very unhappy here and he said he would like to go to Scotland. My God, he told you the same thing so it’s no secret,” Raoul said.
“No, that’s not in doubt. What is in doubt, is how. How, for Christ’s sake, is he going to get there without Security catching his ass?”
“I have no idea. He can’t get a passport without all the bells in Security going off, so he can’t go anywhere by train or flights. He might be able to get a ride to Nuevo York, but he would have to be a stowaway on some transport vehicle, which is monitored closely. I don’t know, maybe he’ll just walk there, McDonald,” he laughed, then he added, “For God’s Sake, lay off. If he did go, let the man alone.”
“Sorry, I gotta find him.”
“Look, no matter what you think he did, he’s still my friend,” Raoul said, his deep voice rising in frustration.
“Friendships are rare, especially this one. Even if I knew where he was, I wouldn’t turn him in. If you find him, at least hear the man out. Get his story,” Raoul said.
“When I find him, then I’ll decide. You know something my Latino amigo, you’re much too old fashioned.
Much too sentimental. I gotta get going,” Martin said as he turned towards the door. He turned back to Raoul and said, “Just talking to you has given me an idea. I’m going over first thing in the morning to his work center at the Library. Maybe I can find what he was doing his last days there. Then I’ll interview Dr. Alexander.
Maybe he knows something, but if your best friend Kurt Sloan contacts you, here’s my code. I’ll expect you to let me know,” Martin said firmly.
Raoul moved towards Martin and pointed at him, “Listen you son-of-a-bitch, don’t threaten me in any way. You hear me? Don’t expect anything from me. I wouldn’t give you anything about anyone. Now get the hell out of here before I throw your ass out. Now!”, Raoul shouted as he moved toward McDonald, who held his ground for a second, then grabbed the handle and opened the door.
“You may regret what you said,” Martin replied as he walked out into the dark night without closing the door.
“Fuck you, you Caribbean creep!” Raoul shouted out to the disappearing figure as he slammed the door shut.
Martin McDonald crossed the street and looked back as the lights went out. He looked around the area. It was pitch black. He hadn’t eaten since early in the morning and was feeling a bit weak. He had been going non-stop all day. The only place open was the 21St Cafeteria two blocks away in Shadyside which is where he headed.
He had to slow down and plan his next move. Martin knew one thing. Tomorrow morning he would find Dr.
Alexander. He had a hunch where Sloan was headed, but needed to learn how he could get out of the country.
He knew one thing, Sloan had few options.
Martin felt raindrops as he walked quickly up the dark road in the direction of the restaurant. He zipped up his jacket as light rain and the cold breeze blew in his face. The weather was changing as forecaseted. He had never become accustomed to the cold weather of this area. He had never seen snow before he came here. At first it was exciting and different, but he soon got over that feeling when the freezing temperatures lasted for weeks on end. Those were the times when his mind drifted to the constant warm air and water of his Jamaica. Someday, he would go back a leader and help instill in that small country the qualities of this revolutionary land. Someday his people would be free and totally in charge of their lives. Things were changing, but not fast enough. He missed the color, the warmth, the people, but his life was here and he had a job to do.