The Persian Helmet

  Chapter 8: Fourth Of July

  The Fourth of July was a hot one, as everyone kept saying. The Rag and Bone Shop would close early, at 5:00; the parade would begin at 6:00 and end in the little park downtown, like the Memorial Day parade. People brought picnics for the park and vendors also set up their stands with the usual festival food and drink. There would be patriotic music from the band in the gazebo, speeches, and a reading of the Declaration of Independence, maybe dancing if anyone would work up the energy to get up on the basketball court in the park and do it, and of course a fireworks display beginning just after sundown.

  Clare prepared by getting the helmet out of the bank again, and fitting out the truck bed with wrapped hay bales again. Roxy and Jim came down again to get more story material and photos. More than they needed, Clare thought, but she appreciated their company, since her life was all work now. She loved the work, but she sometimes felt rather forlorn away from her family and friends. It was only about a four-hour drive, but that was long enough to make any visit a special occasion, not like a quick drive across town or even across the county.

  “Are you going to wear this get-up on every holiday from now on?” Roxy asked.

  “Well, it might be getting a little stale by Halloween,” Clare said with a laugh. “But as for Christmas, don’t the Swedish girls wear flaming candle wreaths on their heads at Christmas?”

  “Yeah, they do. But not Christmas, it’s on Saint Lucy’s Day, before Christmas.”

  “How do you know that?

  “We learned about the saints in Catholic school.”

  “You won’t be making any allusions to Saint Lucy in your story about me, will you?”

  “Ha! No.”

  “So, are you expecting a lot of people, like on Memorial Day?” Jim asked.

  “Probably more, according to the Sheriff’s office, Clare answered. “The Fourth always draws in more people from the county. This one is more popular than some other towns’, because we start in the afternoon. People don’t have to stand around watching a parade in the mid-day sun.”

  “I can appreciate that. But I brought a hat. Not a big old steel helmet, just your standard issue baseball hat.”

  And he pulled out a Cleveland Indians hat and slapped it on his head.

  “That’ll do.”

  “And I’ve got a Cincinnati Reds hat in my other pocket.” He pulled that one out of another pocket and put it on top of the Indians hat, backwards. “See, I’ve got myself covered front and back.”

  Clare and Roxy laughed and Roxy gave him a quick peck under the front brim.

  Clare smiled and felt a twinge of envy. Not jealousy about Jim personally, but just about their relationship.

 

  On the Fourth, Clare went to work at the store and Jim and Roxy did their jobs walking around town, although nothing was going other than set-ups. A lot of people came in from out of town to browse through the Sears goods. Clare had decided to make the catalogues available to customers. If they found something she just said, “I’ll see if I can locate one of those.” A few people came into the store with items to sell, what Clare called “real” things. She still felt that the Sears merchandise was somehow not quite real, because it shouldn’t be there, she shouldn’t be able to order a 12-foot solid oak dining room table, weight 170 pounds, for $7.60. But who was she to question reality?

  Because catalogue ordering was increasing rapidly, she acquired as many old catalogues as she could find, to protect her late Aunt Del’s stash, and carefully supervised the use of the old ones.

  Farmers were happy to be able to buy old farm equipment their dads or granddads had used. The hippie farmers ordered windmills. The Amish ordered buggies.

  She turned down requests from customers to order the opium tonics (though she ordered them her own hidden stash), firearms, or syringes which had been sold for treating livestock. There was no point in attracting attention from the authorities, or attracting criminals. The sheriff liked to show up sometimes when Jackson came in and watch him and the store staff unload the truck, and Clare didn’t think it was just idle curiosity. So far he hadn’t seen anything questionable. The tonics came discreetly packaged.

  But that left thousands of products for customers to order. She knew some people wanted to buy in quantity to stock their own shops, but she limited quantities to modest amounts. She didn’t plan to get into the wholesale business.

  Although she was buying items locally for The Cellar, it wasn’t open for business yet. She would need to hire another worker, and she still didn’t have much stock down there. But most people so far were interested in selling, not shopping downstairs.

  “Hey Clare.” The clerk Sandy, who’d bought one of the first Sears kit houses, knocked on Clare’s office door and went in when Clare unlocked it. Clare didn’t like people walking in on her and on very busy days like today she locked the door to the store, as well as the back door to the alley. “Some guy was in here asking about that helmet you wore on Memorial Day. He wanted to know if it was for sale.”

  “Oh really? Is he still here?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s so crowded, I’ll have to take a look around.”

  “Well, if you see him, tell him it’s not for sale.”

  “OK.”

  A little later Sandy came back and said, “That guy asked me if he could just look at the helmet. He wants to take a closer look.”

  “No. Is he still here?”

  “I dunno.”

  “I’ll be wearing it in the parade again, and he can see it there. But you don’t have to tell him that.”

  “I wonder how he knew about the helmet anyway.”

  “He must have seen it at the Memorial Day parade.”

  “Maybe, but he didn’t look familiar. Not from around here.”

  “Then he must have seen the photo in the newspaper. I think the story was picked up by some other papers, maybe because I mentioned that I found it in the trash in Akron.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  The helmet was locked in the elevator again, and Clare had the only key. She figured she ought to get a spare key made and put it in the safe deposit box, but the hardware store was closed and she’d have to wait till tomorrow. She detached it from her keyring and hung it on a ribbon around her neck. She couldn’t have said why she felt so leery about that helmet and the guy who was asking about it, but she took comfort from the fact that Clench would be in the parade and in the park for the evening. Maybe she could ask him for an armed escort to return the helmet to the elevator till the bank opened in the morning.

  Roxy accompanied Clare once again in the back of the truck on the aluminum foil-wrapped hay bales while Jim drove. A slight breeze threatened to blow out the candles but they kept burning till the parade scattered at the park.

  “This helmet hot and heavy,” Clare said. “I think I’ll lock it in the truck.”

  “Everyone wants to see it up close, though,” Roxy said.

  “OK, I’ll walk around for a few minutes then I have to take it off.”

  While Jim parked the truck, Clare and Roxy walked around the park as people walked up to them for a closer look at the helmet.

  “Oh, guess what I’ve got in my purse, Roxy, a candle snuffer. Someone brought it in for The Cellar. You can do the honors.” Clare carefully felt in her bag without bending over or tilting her head, and brought out a long brass candle snuffer and handed it to Roxy. “I think it’s time to extinguish my lights.”

  Roxy smothered each candle and gave the snuffer back to Clare.

  “That’s great,” she said. “Now you don’t have to find a really tall person to blow them out.”

  On Memorial Day Clare had sat down so Roxy could blow out the candles.

  “Yeah, I’m going to keep the snuffer in my bag, at least every time I wear the helmet. I guess I could use it as a candelabra on a table at home.”

  “Why not? It would be …”
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  Before Roxy finished her sentence, someone squeezed through the crowd, snatched the helmet from Clare’s head, and ran away. They both screamed.

  Some of the crowd started to run after the snatcher, among them Clench Bargo, still in his Army uniform. The thief was impeded by the crush of people and Clench reached him quickly with long strides. He had to make a quick decision: secure the helmet or the thief? Or could he do both? He sensed that Clare would prefer the helmet, but he got a grip on the helmet’s spike and the thief’s arm that encircled the helmet. Clare and Roxy caught up with him and Clare managed to take the helmet while Clench held on to the boy with his powerful grip.

  Meanwhile, Jim had returned from parking the truck, heard the commotion, and run over to the center of the crowd wielding his camera.

  “Hey, that’s the guy I saw in front of the store with the hoodie!” Jim yelled. Clench turned toward Jim, while the boy was swearing and trying to twist out of his grip. Or at least he seemed to be swearing, but not in language that Clare understood. She just understood the tone of voice and the expression on his face. Clench stared at the kid with what seemed to be recognition. He said something to the boy that Clare did not understand and at this, the boy look startled and with one more determined effort, bit Clench’s knuckles, wrenched himself away, and took off running, Clench at his heels.

  “Get Sheriff Matheson!” he yelled as he tried to catch up with the boy, who was fast and small and could move through the crowd more easily than the big man.

  Clare just stood frozen to the spot holding the helmet and watched them run out of the park. Some people were looking for the sheriff but no one knew where he was after the parade. He was also a vet and had marched in his Army uniform, but someone thought he’d gone to his office to change into something lighter and cooler.

  “I wouldn’t lock that thing in the truck tonight,” Roxy said to Clare.

  “No, I guess that wouldn’t be a good idea. I’ll put it back in the elevator. Right now. Want to go with me?”

  “Sure, let’s make it quick in case he comes back.”

  “He won’t be coming back very soon with Clench after him.” But privately Clare wondered how he’d managed to lose the boy. She felt disappointed, though that wasn’t fair considering he’d saved her helmet.

  They told Jim where they were going and he walked with them to store.

  “I think this elevator is as secure as anyplace, next to the bank, and I can’t get there till tomorrow.”

  “You sure wouldn’t want to take it home,” said Jim.

  “No.”

  “You’ll be glad to know I got more pictures.”

  “Maybe the sheriff can send them around for identification. We do know he’s …”

  “Not from around here,” Roxy and Jim finished with her.