Pomegranate — Book 5

Book 5

Early, Tuesday morning, Marc boarded his Amtrak Acela headed for D.C. He was going on a business trip. He loved going to D.C. His dad, may his soul rest used to have biz apartment in Alexandria, Va., Marc crashed there on and off for months. When not working he would have a beer with an old college friend. And he’s having dinner with one of his besties and her beautiful family.

He found a seat in the quiet car, opened his Nook and began to read. He was still thinking about Jen. But was thinking much more about Alana. He was unnerved after their battle. But he’d be ok. Man did he like her.

Marc developed his powers years ago while praying in Amuka. He was hoping his prayers would find him a wife. Instead, he became very powerful. During his meditation, he heard whispers telling him he was going to gain powers and must use them for good. He wasn’t sure what to believe. And chalked it up to the wonderful glasses of wine from he sipped in the art district in Safed. He sipped them with fresh laffa bread, olive oil and hummus. He thinks about that day all the time. He was wondering how Alana developed her strengths and if it was only apples. Of course, he thought she had more powers. Somehow he knew she would unleash them on him. He hopes only on him. He could fight back. Others would go down.

He was worried she might use them to go after people. She was always a little vindictive. The train pulled into DC’s Union Station and he jumped on the Metro’s Red Line toward the Marriott.

He checked in and went to his office. Things were going as planned. He’d work for several hours and then trek out to Rockville on train. Not on a bus. Boy does he have a song for everything and loves R.E.M.

Things were quiet in his company’s D.C. office. The illiterates were out. The NYC office was not much different. Marc had a friend or two in both. But for the most part hated them. He grabbed his laptop and headed to the Metro station. He was going to see his friend, Rebecca and her wonderful youngsters.

He was walking down Pennsylvania Avenue. The usual crazies were protesting. It happens daily. His mind was drifting in thoughts about tonight’s Yankees-Red Sox game. He’d catch it on the TV at the hotel’s bar when he got back from Rebecca’s.

As he approached the Metro, he saw an elderly man being beaten by young thugs. The man was gasping for air. Marc really didn’t need this. He knew he couldn’t let an old man get hurt. Not only was this happening, an out of control woman was trying to fight with some of the protestors, who were loud. Yet they very peaceful. He was perplexed as how to handle multiple fights. But he knew he had to.

“Hey, tough guys. Does beating up an old man make you feel strong? Are you that weak?”

The three 20 somethings looked at Marc. One pulled out a knife and ran toward him. As he approached Marc backed up and landed a kick in the guy’s chest. He went down. The other two pulled out their silencer-equipped Glocks and aimed. Marc didn’t even quiver. He stood there waiting to take the shots. The men pulled the trigger. Marc’s perfect vision tracked the bullets. He stood firm and his hands began to twitch. He opened his closed hands and shot cannon strength pomegranates, which deflected the bullets. The guys tried to fire again. But Marc shot several blasts of honey into the barrel of both guns. The guns backfired and the assailants fell down hard onto the concrete.

Meanwhile, the woman was still attacking the protestors. He did not have any time to waste. He approached her. They quickly looked at each other and she picked up a fire extinguisher and fired at the protestors. He jumped in the middle of it and barley flew out of his hands, while honey ejected from his eyes. She aimed the extinguisher at him and fired. He ducked. She missed. He returned fire with six pomegranates. They hit her all over. She screamed. She keeled over. Marc ran to the Metro station. He hopped on the Red Line and was safe in Rockville.


Bleach Monster, Part X

Murray left the Seaport.  The others stayed. He raced up to Penn Station.  He received an urgent message from an old friend. He needed to be in DC immediately.


A ticket for an Amtrak Acela was waiting for him. He got to Penn. Swiped his card in the Amtrak machine and out popped his ticket.  He sat in the passengers waiting area for about 15 minutes and boarded Amtrak Train 2167 to our nation’s capital.


Murray sat in the train’s quiet car and prayed no loud mouths that didn’t care about the rules would be sitting there with him.  For once, he lucked out.


It was a smooth ride.  Three hours later he was in Union Station, Washington, D.C.  He hopped on the Red-Line toward Shady Grove and found his friend, Arnold on Pennsylvania Avenue and 11 Street. He was in all black and was drenched in sweat.


“What’s wrong?”


Arnold stood silently for minutes.


Then he spoke.


“We have issues.  Remember the old days when we were in camp?”


“’Of course.  Those were the best years of our lives.”


“The crazy counselor who used to give out pots when we were bad now has a high ranking staff position on the Senate Finance Committee.  Apparently, he cleaned up his nutty act and did quite well in school. He wound up rising up through the legislative staff ranks rather quickly. But I’ve heard he cannot be trusted.”


“What do you expect me to do?”


“I’ve read stories about what’s going on in NYC.  Specifically in Staten Island, Forest Hills, 161 Street and in Central Park. “


“What stories?”


“Stories were written about people with special powers.  There were only three.  But something tells me you were involved.”




“Yeah. You.”


The two made idle chatter for the next 20 minutes. Murray denied knowing anything about the Bleach Monster.  Wine-Girl, Blubber Boy, and Tear-Water Boy never made it to the press.


Murray suggested they grab a beer.  Arnold agreed.  They walked over to a bar not far from the Ronald Reagan Office Building.


One beer turned into another, coupled with an order of wings and fries.  Two hours later a few shots of Arrack were poured.  They paid their bill with a generous tip and departed.


A plan was hatched to take out the obnoxious camp counselor.  You see they didn’t wish him harm. The camp days were way gone. But they knew this wacko, despite his cleaned up act was still a nut.  Heaven help our country with the counsel he’ll give our senators.


Murray didn’t explain anything about his empire to Arnold. He just said he would figure out a way to take care of Mark. This guy liked to rock-n-roll. He needed to closely study the situation


Murray was calm. But he was a little nervous. He never finalized the creation of his empire at the South Street Seaport. He knew Dani would be waiting for his next move.  He trusted her to an extent.  But knew she’d try to take him out if he wasn’t careful. So much for sibling love.


Arnold went home. Murray checked in at the J.W. Marriott.  He took a shower and began texting Dani.  She was still up. He gave her a heads up on what was going down in D.C.  He told her to stay on guard for instructions. She got excited.


She knew an empire was in the works.   Although she wasn’t the official leader, she knew she would run it anyway.  She was happy to let Murray think he was in control.


Murray went to J. Crew and purchased a suit. He went as a visitor to the next Senate Finance Committee meeting. He saw the loony, Mark that he hadn’t seen in over 25 years.  Murray remained unnoticed.


Mark looked good.  Brooks Brothers suit. He appeared to be in good shape and was speaking very clearly. But there was still a twinge of crazy in his eyes.  If you didn’t know him back in the day you wouldn’t notice.  You might think he eyes were red due to allergies or other issues.  The meeting concluded.  Everyone scurried out.


Murray got a drink of water and called Arnold Everything seems quite normal. But Murray sensed Mark would turn into Mark and start giving out pots. Not the kind he gave out him camp. Heck, those were dirty old pots that good ‘ole camp grub was cooked in.  The new pots could be amendments to financial bills that will wreak havoc on our great American lifestyle.


Mark could be a convincing person.


He needed to be stopped.


He and Murray walked right by each other. Mark was oblivious.


A few days passed. Murray was ready to strike.  He went to Senate committee’s website and found Mark’s email. He sent him a cordial email telling him how he’s in town and it has been over two decades since they’ve seen each other.  He suggested they meet in front of the Air and Space Museum.


Mark agreed. He was a little nervous. But figured his interactions with Murray were so dated it wouldn’t matter. You see when Mark tried to give Murray and Arnold a million pots after they raided him in his sleep. They moved him while he was sound asleep on his cot and placed him in the latrine above the willy holes.   Mark woke up screaming. He was never mean to any camper again.


Mark knew those days were gone. He straightened his life out. He did well at Wharton and had a great job.  But he knew his crazy streak was just waiting to strike.


The two arrived at the Air and Space meeting.  As usual, the Hare Krishnas were nearby.  They grabbed Dove ice cream bars from the refreshment stand and began to chat.  Mark told Murray how he still has nightmares about waking up above the Willy holes in camp.  Murray smiled.  He said he feels bad. But hey that was over two decades ago and he would never apologize for his teen craziness.


Mark went on to explain how crazy camp situations helped him evolve into the man he is today.  Murray knew right there that Mark was likely to go crazy.  Some of it was his fault. Some were due to the environment they were placed in.


The conversation ended. They shook hands and went their separate ways.


Murray texted Arnold. They had to get their plan into high gear.  Murray realized the way some things were phrased that trouble was brewing.


The next few days may change the shape of the universe.


Murray needed Dani and his other powerful little friends at his side. He purchased tickets for them to arrive in DC that evening. He outlined the structure of “Murray’s Empire” in a cryptic email.  They swore their allegiance. Basically, they were to use their “powers” for good.


He told them to go straight to the Supreme Court upon arrival.


Murray got together with Arnold. They began mapping out their attack plan.


Murray’s major concern was how to fight without the use of their powers. Could he do it with tricky speech? Or would his empire descend upon Washington in full light?