The Minnesota Candidate (7 page)

Tom could see that the conversation was going
nowhere and he nodded his head. “You can’t blame me for being
curious. I want you to think about it. Will you do that?”

“I will, but I’m not making any promises. I will
say this much: that place is locked up tighter than Fort Knox.
There are alarms for the alarms and the police would be here in two
minutes if any of them are tripped. I would be extremely
disappointed in you if you tried going in there without my
approval. I hope that doesn’t sound mean, it’s just the way it
is.”

Again, Tom nodded his head, but he couldn’t help
but think that his new wife had a screw loose. They kissed and
walked back inside for more coffee. An hour later, showered and
dressed, Shari was in her red BMW 760 and driving to work.

Sam was up at 8:00 and he joined Tom in the
kitchen. “Boy,” he said, rubbing his back, “I don’t think I’ve ever
slept in such a comfortable bed. They ain’t got racks like that in
the joint, I can tell ya that.”

Tom smiled and poured Sam a cup of coffee.
“Sugar or cream?” he asked.

Sam shook his head. “No, I take it black. Thank
you.”

Tom poured them each a cup of coffee and the two
men sat on barstools at the counter. “I’ve got an idea that I want
to run by you,” said Tom, “I’ve got a job for you, but you have to
promise me that you won’t breathe a word of it to anyone.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at Tom. “Let me guess,” he
said, “it’s a sure thing and we’ll never get caught. Well, I ain’t
interested. I’m a changed man and I ain’t ever goin’ back to
prison.”

Tom held his hands up. “No, no, no,” he said,
“this isn’t like that. This is a legit job, building a house for my
ma.”

Sam smiled and slapped Tom on the back. “Fat
Tommy, don’t look so serious. I was just yankin’ your chain. You’re
just like your old man used to be, always so serious. Yeah, I’d
love to work on your mom’s house, but I need something sooner than
that. Rebuilding a burned down house takes time. Those things don’t
happen overnight.”

Tom got up and checked the hallway and then he
returned to his stool. “Sometimes they do,” he whispered. He then
went on and explained their plan to Sam. And even though he had
never seen a single episode of the television program, Sam had
heard of it. Tom’s idea was to toss Sam in as part of the contract
with the builder. After that, it would be up to Sam to prove
himself.

“You know somethin’?” asked Sam as he dabbed at
his eyes. “I meant that yesterday about God telling me to come out
here. He told me that if I did that everything would fall into
place. I know that probably sounds corny, but it’s the truth. I
don’t want nuttin’ from nobody, all I want is a chance. You get me
in there and I’ll be the hardest worker they ever saw.”

Tom smiled and sipped his coffee. “I know you
will,” he said. “Just remember, Ma doesn’t know a thing. You’ve got
to keep this to yourself.”

“Fat Tommy, my lips are sealed. I may be a lot
of things, but I ain’t no rat.”

“After Ma gets up, I’m going to take you into
town and we’ll get you some things. I already talked to Shari about
it.”

Sam nodded. “I’ll pay you back. You know I’m
good for it.”

“I know you are.”

Sam got up and poured himself another cup of
coffee. Then it was his turn to walk over to the hallway and make
sure the coast was clear. He returned to his barstool and leaned
close to Tom. “Now,” he whispered, “it’s my turn. I need you to
swear on your old man’s grave that you’ll never repeat this.”

Tom sat back and wondered what Sam was about to
tell him. “I’m not a rat, either,” he whispered. “I swear I
won’t.”

“Good, I know you’re a man of your word. Look,
what I’m about to tell you isn’t going to be easy to hear. Your ma…
she’s a little crazy. You know that, right?”

Tom did know that, he had always known that, but
he didn’t know that anyone else knew. Slowly, he nodded his head.
“Yeah,” he whispered, “where is this going?”

“Just hear me out. I need to tell you somethin’
that your old man would have told you, had he lived long enough.
Fat Tommy, Italian men always marry crazy women. Nobody knows why,
but I swear on my dear mother’s grave that it’s the truth. We’re
like magnets. We go together like spaghetti and meatballs. Why do
you think I ain’t ever got married?”

Tom thought about that and it slowly sunk in. He
didn’t know about other Italian families, but Sam’s theory
certainly rang true inside his own. And while some of the Picacello
women were just a little strange, others had no business being
outside of a state hospital. “I see your point,” he whispered, “but
why are you telling me this? Shari isn’t crazy, not even a little
bit. She’s just great.”

Sam nodded his head and gave Tom a hard look. “I
didn’t say they were crazy right away. I think we drive them
there.”

“That doesn’t say much about us, does it?”

“Nope, it sure don’t. Look, I’m only telling you
this as a pro face. Know what I mean?”

“Do you mean a preface, something to get the
ball rolling?”

“Yeah, a preface, that’s the word I was looking
for. Fat Tommy, I hate to tell you this, but your mom is nuts. Now,
before you go getting all defensive about that, let me tell you
about what happened last night.”

Tom held up his hand and walked back to the
hallway. He poked his head around the corner and took a deep
breath. Whatever Sam was about to tell him, Tom was sure that he
did not want to hear it. Uneasily, he sat back down at the counter.
“Go ahead,” he whispered.

“Your mom wants this house.”

“Yeah, I know she does.”

“And she wants you and Shari to live over in
that great big house. I’m guessing that you know that, too?”

Tom nodded. “That’s why we’re rebuilding her
house as soon as we possibly can.”

“I figured as much. Well, here’s something else
for you to chew on: your ma is dying to see what’s inside that
other place. She asked me to help her get in there. She also told
me that you ain’t ever been in there. Is that true?”

Again, Tom nodded his head.

“Ya see,” softly whispered Sam, “Fat Tommy,
that’s kind of nuts, if ya ask me. What is she hidin’ over
there?”

The question hit Tom hard, but not as hard as
the truth. Sam was right, it was kind of nuts that his new wife
would not allow him inside a home that belonged to her; which
legally, he now co-owned by marriage. “I don’t know,” he said,
honestly. “She says that she hasn’t been inside the house since her
parents died.”

Sam got up and walked to the hallway. He then
motioned for Tom to join him in the living room. He waited for Tom
by the fireplace. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I
found somethin’ that you might be interested in. I’m guessin’ these
two houses were built back in the twenties. Whoever built them,
they was loaded. Anyhow, last night when your ma asked me to help
her get inside that other house, I told her no way. I know she got
mad about that, but I stood my ground. So, she gets up and starts
stomping around and then she goes into the bathroom. There I was,
just sitting here and I got to thinkin’. Sam, I said to myself,
there has to be a way in there from over here.”

“What, do you think there’s a secret
passageway?”

Sam smiled. “I know there’s a secret
passageway,” he whispered, “and you’re lookin’ right at it.”

Tom felt his eyes grow wide. He quickly stepped
back to the hallway and made sure his mom was still in bed. He then
returned to Sam, his heart drumming with excitement. He examined
the fireplace and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t see it,” he
whispered.

Sam walked over to the towering bookcase on the
right side of the fireplace. He then grabbed hold of the ladder and
he pulled it all the way to the end of its track, as far away from
the fireplace as possible. He returned to the where the oak
bookcase met the fireplace stone and he crouched down and stuck his
hand into a small crevice. “The latch is down here,” he whispered.
There was a clicking sound and the bookcase began to slowly swing
open. “Pretty nifty, huh?”

Tom walked over to the edge and he peered down
into the blackness. Beyond the top three stairs, Tom couldn’t see a
thing. Sam stepped over and slapped Tom on the back. “Is there a
light switch?” Tom asked.

Sam pointed into the shadows. “On the wall,” he
whispered. Sam reached inside and flipped the hidden switch,
illuminating the stone staircase in hazy yellow light. The
passageway smelled stale, and as if something had recently died
down inside it. “I didn’t go down there. I would never do that
without you being right next to me.”

“Holy crap,” whispered Tom, “what should we
do?”

Sam reached inside and flipped off the lights.
He then took Tom by the arm and pulled him aside. A moment later,
the bookshelf door was closed. Sam even pulled the ladder back to
where it had hung suspended over the bookcase. “I tell you what we
should do,” whispered Sam, “we should do nuttin’. Shari has her own
reasons for keeping everyone out of that house and we have to honor
them. After what she did for me, inviting me into your home, that
pizza the other night, making me feel like I was still part of the
family; no, I ain’t gonna go against her wishes. She might be a
little cuckoo, but she’s all aces in my book. I just wanted you to
know about this. You want my advice? Wait until she shares her
secret with you. You owe her that much.”

Tom thought about that. Sam was right; he owed
her that much and so much more. “You’re absolutely right,” he said.
“And you’re sure that my ma didn’t see any of this?”

“Fat Tommy, I can promise you that she didn’t
see nuttin’. Once I saw the latch, I was in and out of there before
the toilet flushed. I got one more thing to tell you and I don’t
know how to say it.”

“Just go ahead and say it.”

Sam ran a hand through his pompadour. “Well,
when your ma came out of the bathroom, she was trying to put the
moves on me. That was a little creepy. I wouldn’t be tellin’ you
about it, but she got really steamed when I shut her down. You know
how she gets all red-faced when she gets mad? Yeah, that’s how she
got. Come on, for cryin’ out loud, we’re cousins. I’ve known her
since she was a baby. I’m hopin’ she just had a little too much
vino and that she’ll forget all about it.”

Tom wished he had a pair of knitting needles; he
would have driven them into his own ears. The thought of his mom
hitting on Sam made him feel queasy. He walked back into the
kitchen and refilled their coffee cups. “I wish you hadn’t told me
that,” he said, handing Sam his cup. They sat back down at the
counter. “I’m sorry about that. You’re right, it was probably the
wine.”

“I just wanted you to know, cause that way you
and Shari will understand why I can’t stay with you. That can never
happen, not ever again.”

Tom sighed and nodded his head. “I’ll see about
getting you a motel room,” he said.

Sam shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, but
I’ll be okay in my place down by the river. I kind of like it
there. Some guys, when they get out of the joint, they hate being
outside of a cage. Not me, I love sleepin’ out under the stars.
That’s freedom; at least it is to me. Besides, I got me some
friends down there and we look out for each other. I don’t want
them worryin’ about me.”

Tom could see that Sam had already made up his
mind. Reluctantly, he had to agree that Sam needed to go. There
could be no repeat performances from last night. “Do you need
anything?” he asked.

Sam seemed to consider this. He stared up at the
knotty pine ceiling and sipped his coffee. “A pillow and a sleeping
bag would be nice, if you could spare ‘em.”

“Let me go take a look,” said Tom. He got up and
quickly began to explore the house. After what Sam had said, Tom
was hoping to get him back to his bridge as soon as possible. He
went from room to room, finding what he needed in the closet of the
master bedroom. He didn’t find a sleeping bag, but he did find an
old blanket. The blanket was well-made and reminded Tom of blankets
he had seen Native Americans selling, on his lone trip to the Grand
Canyon. The colorful blanket seemed thick enough to keep Sam warm
and old enough that Shari wouldn’t notice it missing. He grabbed an
extra pillow and returned to the kitchen.

“What, you two drank all the coffee?” said Tom’s
mother, holding the nearly empty pot. “Nobody ever thinks about
me.”

Tom ignored her as he walked over to the pantry.
With his mother grumbling in the background, Tom found a black
trash bag and he quickly stuffed the blanket and pillow inside it.
He stepped out of the pantry and looked at Sam. “Are you ready to
go?” he asked.

“I sure am,” said Sam, eyeing the bag. “And I
promise to get those back to you.”

“Go where?” asked Doris.

“I’m going back home,” said Sam, standing up
from the counter. “And I just want to say that it was great
visitin’ with you. I had a lot of fun and we’ll have to do it
again, soon.”

“Don’t let the door hit you on your way out,”
she growled.

Tom exchanged a look with Sam and they both
started for the door. “I’ll be back in an hour,” said Tom, trying
to keep his voice even as the anger washed over him.

“What the hell do I care?” replied his mother.
“Good riddance to bad rubbish, that’s what your dad used to say.
Don’t rush home on my account. I don’t need you. Just don’t be
surprised if I’m not here when you get back. I don’t need
anyone.”

With Doris complaints echoing off the woodwork,
the two men walked out the door and into the garage. “I’m sorry
about that,” said Tom. “She’s always grumpy in the morning.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Sam. “Never
apologize for crazy people. You can’t help it that she’s like
that.”