Uncommon Thief

Chapter 33

  FDF

  Maria didn’t lose any time setting up her Fuller Defense Fund, or ‘FDF’ as they liked to call it. The following week, she claimed one of the tables along the main Bruin walkway going to the Student Union. These tables were usually occupied by student organizations and political groups trying to influence student opinion and get media attention. A group of anti-Vietnam war protesters occupied the booth next to her.

  She put up a modest sign that she had made by hand and set out a large pickle jar with a sign on it that read: ‘PLEASE HELP!’ She and Steve had agreed to take turns manning the booth for a couple hours each day. Each morning before she’d set up, she’d stick $500 or $600 into the jar from her stash in storage room, and then at the end of the day, she’d deposit the money in a bank account opened in the name of the FDF. Typically, they’d raise a couple hundred dollars, so, with her contribution, the fund was growing quickly.

  The problem with the FDF was that it subjected her to a lot of scrutiny from students, teachers, and the media who liked to stop by and chat or interview her for a story. At first, Maria hated this, but after a while, she got used to it and actually enjoyed the outflow of sympathy and support from almost everyone.

  As she was setting up one morning in late January, she was approached by a reporter. “Hi. I’m Alice Wolf from the LA Times.”

  Maria extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “So, how’s the defense fund coming?”

  “Great. Everyone is so generous. It’s very heartwarming.”

  “Well, there’re a lot of people pulling for Fred. Do you mind if I interview you for a story? The trial is coming up in less than a month, and my boss wants me to do a feature on you and your efforts to help Fred Fuller.”

  Maria shrugged. “Sure. That would be great.”

  “Good,” she said and dug into her purse for a notepad.

  Maria smiled. “Come around and sit in this extra chair. It will be more comfortable.”

  “Oh, thank you,” she said and walked around the table and took a seat.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee? I can run into the Student Union really quick and grab you one.”

  “No, no, I’m fine, thanks. So, tell me how you and Fred met.”

  “We met at orientation. Fred sat down next to me, and we just started talking. We hit it off really well, and I knew right away we were eventually going to be together. In fact, Fred couldn’t wait for school to start. He tracked me down at my home in Ojai and asked me out on a date.”

  “Oh, that’s so romantic. So, I know Fred is a political science major, but what about you?”

  “Me? I’m studying to be an RN.”

  “Really? Any particular area of nursing you’re interested in?”

  “Maternity or nursery. I love babies—watching them come into the world and taking care of them when they are so tiny.”

  She laughed. “Yes, that would be a fun. What got you interested in babies?”

  “My sister is ten years younger than I am, and I just loved taking care of her when she was a baby.”

  “I bet your parents were surprised when she showed up,” Alice said.

  “Oh, yes,” Maria agreed. “It was quite unexpected.”

  As they were talking, Steve walked up.

  Maria stood up. “Oh, Steve, I’d like you to meet Alice Wolf of the LA Times. She’s doing an interview about FDF.”

  Steve extended his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Steve is one of Fred’s best friends. He helps me man the booth during the day,” Maria said.

  “Yes, I’ve heard about you and Randy. Did I hear correctly that all of you are blood brothers?”

  Steve laughed. “Yes, I guess we are.”

  “Okay, why don’t you elaborate a bit? I’m sure my readers would be interested in hearing that story.”

  Steve shrugged and pulled up a stray chair. “Alright. Do you remember when President Kennedy took office and challenged everyone to get physically fit?”

  “Right, I remember that,” Alice said.

  “Well, Randy, Fred, and I had decided we would accept the challenge and hike fifty miles through the Topatopa Mountains from the Ridge Route to California State Highway 33.

  “We had never hiked that far before, but were confident that if we did it over a two or three-day period, it wouldn't be too bad. The weekend before our trip, we all gathered at Randy's house to plan our trip. Randy had just returned from a weekend excursion to Tijuana, Mexico with his parents and had brought home fireworks for us to shoot off and switchblades for personal protection.”

  “Oh, really,” Alice said disapprovingly.

  “Aren’t switchblades illegal?”

  “I guess,” Steve replied. “But we were just going to use them for camping.”

  “Okay. Go on.”

  “Anyway, we planned our route, what we’d need to bring, and got our parents to agree to take us to the trailhead and pick us up at the end of the hike at Highway 33. The next week went very fast, and before we knew it, the day of our departure had arrived. Most of our camping experience had been in fair weather. California doesn't get that much rain, and the temperatures are pretty mild. We often slept under the stars and packed rather light. In fact, it was not uncommon for us to hike in tennis shoes rather than hiking boots.”

  Alice smiled and made some notes on a pad she was holding.

  “Our mothers drove us to the Ridge Route and the trail head for the Topatopa Trail. I brought a small nylon, very light, pup tent just in case it rained. I had an old army hard hat, a canteen, and a backpack with assorted cooking utensils, light clothing, and food. Randy wore jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers. Although I never searched through his backpack I would guess it had several issues of Mad Magazine, comic books, and lots of snacks. I, on the other hand, was a model Boy Scout who brought everything one could ever possibly need on a hike. Unfortunately, with all of these amenities, my pack was exceedingly heavy.

  “Fred always brought fire starters on our camping trips. In an old issue of Boy's Life, it gave instructions on how to make fire starters out of rolled up newspapers and candle wax. Of course, we knew how to start a fire with a stick or flint and steel, but those methods were too difficult to be practical. Fire starters, however, were great because just one of them and a single match could start a fire under any condition. Earlier in the year, we’d made several hundred of them, so we always carried an ample supply.

  “We were all in a good mood and eager to get started. We each kissed our mother goodbye and took off.

  “The trail was not the greatest in the world. It obviously wasn't heavily traveled, and from time to time, it would seem to disappear. After a few miles, we came to a sign that read ‘Lyon's Canyon 2, Topatopa Pass 7, Pyramid Lake 12 and Maricopa Highway 47’.

  “By this time, I was beginning to pay the price for all the luxury items I’d packed. The weight was killing me, so I would frequently stop and shift my pack around to get comfortable. After a while, I began to lag behind a few paces. Fred and Randy kept asking me how I was doing, but I was too embarrassed to tell them how miserable I was. After another mile or so, we entered Lyon's Canyon. The trail was cut along the steep canyon walls above Piru Creek and was quite narrow. About midway through the canyon, Fred looked up and spotted a giant condor from the Sespe Condor Sanctuary north of Fillmore. He yelled in delight and pointed at the condor gliding through the canyon.

  “When I looked up, I stumbled on a rock and fell off the narrow path. Before I knew it, I was rolling down the side of the hill. Of course, Randy and Fred dropped their packs and scrambled down the hillside to where I’d landed.

  “Other than a few bruises to my pride, I was okay, and we hiked on until noon. Then we stopped on the top of the crest for lunch and to rest. We could see Topatopa Pass in the distance rising some 6,210 feet above sea level. We had started at about 4,500 feet and guessed we had climbed at least a 1,000 feet al
ready. After lunch, we continued on, figuring we would go another four or five miles and then camp for the night. Before long, thick, puffy clouds began to roll across the sky. We didn't think anything about it, as these types of cumulus clouds in the mountains are not unusual.

  “As the day progressed, the clouds thickened up, and it began to get dark, even though it was only midafternoon. Before long, it began to rain. Luckily, we all had ponchos, which we immediately utilized. By this time, Randy was regretting wearing sneakers, as they began to get wet and his feet were getting cold with the rapidly falling temperature. Before long, we couldn't see Topatopa Pass anymore, as the clouds had totally concealed it.”

  “Oh, my God!” Alice said looking down while she took notes.

  “At about four o'clock, the rain turned to snow. We couldn't believe it. Never in a million years would we have believed it would snow that time of year in those mountains. Although the Boy Scout motto was ‘Be prepared,’ we were totally unprepared for what lay ahead.

  “Before long, the snow flurries turned into a blizzard. Randy kept complaining about his feet freezing, and Fred was too scared to talk. I suggested the wise thing to do would be to pitch our tent, all three of us get inside in our sleeping bags to preserve body warmth, and wait until the storm was over. Getting no opposition to my suggestions, we followed that course of action. It was actually pretty warm inside the tent in my sleeping bag. After a few minutes, I dug deep into my backpack, pulled out a transistor radio, and turned it on. We listened to reports about the freak weather and learned that a lot of hikers and campers had been stranded in the storm and that rescue parties had been dispatched to find some of them. We wondered if anybody was out looking for us.

  “Fred was the first to awake the next morning. He quickly realized the tent had collapsed, and we were buried several feet in snow. It was warm in my sleeping bag, so I pondered whether I wanted to brave the bitter cold that I knew awaited me above. It occurred to us that our only hope of survival was to get a good fire going as soon as possible so we could keep warm while we ate breakfast and packed up.

  “Fred unzipped the tent, and he and I struggled outside and climbed up on top of the snow. It was always impossible to get Randy up in the morning, so we didn’t even try. As I gazed across the landscape, I was amazed at the incredibly beautiful transformation that had occurred during the night. It looked like about a foot of snow had fallen, and the temperature must have been about twenty degrees. We knew we needed to get a fire started so we could stay warm until the temperature started to rise. Since all of the dead wood lying around our tent was extremely wet, I knew it would not be easy to start a fire.

  “We searched around to find the driest wood available. After we had a good supply rounded up, we got out our fire starters and some matches. Then we laid the wood tepee-style over half a dozen fire starters. I had never needed more than one before, but this was an extreme situation, and I didn't want to fail. I struck the match and lit one of the fire starters. They began to burn with a vengeance, and before long, we had a hot fire going and were eating a hot breakfast.

  “After breakfast we argued about which way to go, back the way we came or onward to our destination. Unfortunately, it didn't take long to realize the trail had been totally covered by the snow such that we couldn’t even find it!

  “Randy suggested we just go downhill until we got out of the snow. After a heated discussion we all agreed to try the downhill strategy and get to a lower elevation where it wouldn't be so cold. After an hour or so of trekking through the snow, Randy began complain about his feet, so Fred and I started another fire, and Randy took off his socks and shoes. After about thirty minutes, Randy was feeling a little better, so we started down the mountain again. Progress was very slow walking in the deep snow. I began to get panicky, as the depths of the snow didn't seem to be changing as we hiked down the mountain. After hiking all day, we stopped and set up camp before it got dark. Fred started another fire and began cooking our supper. After a minute, I began to smell the strong odor of the vegetable beef soup. I looked over and saw that it was boiling. Fred noticed it, too, and began dishing it out for everyone to eat. Before he had even filled one bowl, we heard the bushes rustle. We turned around but couldn't see anything in the darkness so I ran in and got a flashlight.”

  "Randy jumped up and ran to his pack, pulled out his flashlight, and flashed it into the bushes. Something moved again, and we all jumped to our feet. Whatever it was, it was keeping its distance.

  “Just then, the bush moved yet again, and a curious raccoon came scampering across the snow, stopped a moment, looked us over, and then ran off. We all breathed a sigh of relief.”

  “I bet,” Alice said chuckling. She turned the page in her notebook.

  “Just then,” Steve continued, “we heard rustling in the bushes again. This time, it wasn't isolated in one direction but was all around us. Randy flashed his light out toward the perimeter of camp. This time, the light fell on the cold green eyes of a half dozen coyotes. My heart began to pound as I saw my life coming to a bloody end.

  “Fred looked around the campsite frantically. He dashed over and grabbed a burning log. Reacting to his movement, the coyote bolted after him. Fred turned and waved the flames in the coyote's face. He growled as he backed off slowly. Unfortunately, the flame began to flicker out.

  “Fred went for another log, but the coyote attacked and sunk his teeth into the left sleeve of Fred’s jacket. Fortunately, the two sweatshirts and heavy coat he was wearing protected him from the coyote’s sharp teeth. He fumbled for another flaming stick but couldn't reach it. I lunged for a log and waved it wildly in front of the coyote, but he wouldn’t retreat. Fred reached into his pocket and pulled out his switchblade and flipped it open. The coyote let loose of his sleeve and lunged for his throat. Fred raised his left hand to blunt the attack and stuck the blade of his knife in the chest of the coyote.

  “The other coyotes, reacting to the smell of blood, began to attack all of us. Suddenly, I heard gunshots. I wondered if a rescue party had arrived just in the nick of time. Then I saw Randy throwing cherry bombs into the fire. As the bombs exploded, the terrified and startled coyotes backed off and made a hasty retreat. Once they were gone, Randy and I ran over to where Fred was lying in the snow next to the dead coyote. He was okay, luckily.”

  “Wow!” Alice said. “What an adventure you guys had.

  “For sure,” Steve replied. “After the attack, we moved our camp a good distance away from the dead coyote. We didn't want to be anywhere near a dead animal with a forest full of hungry predators looking for food. We pitched our tent and settled in for another bitterly cold night. It snowed a little, but it was nothing like the previous night. The next day, we again began our journey down the mountain, hoping to get out of the snow and down to warmer weather.

  “The going was slow, as the snow was deep and slippery. After hiking all morning, we stopped for lunch and then pressed on. Just as I was about to suggest it was time to stop again for the night, I heard Fred yell that there was a log cabin ahead.

  “Randy and I rushed toward the cabin. We knocked furiously on the door, but no one answered. When Fred caught up to us, we were peering in the front window.

  “After brief discussion on the propriety of breaking into a cabin, Randy broke one of the windows and entered the cabin.”

  “How did that go?” Alice asked.

  “Oh, Fred didn’t want Randy to break in. He said it was illegal, but Randy said our dire circumstances trumped the law. I agreed, so Fred gave in under protest.”

  “Amazing,” Alice said. “And Fred’s a bank robber?”

  “Right,” Steve agreed. “Anyway, the cabin had a big fireplace and was well stocked with food. That night, we sat around the wooden table in front of a raging fire, pondering our adventure. We had stuck together, and we had survived. That’s when we became blood brothers.”

  “S
o, you just decided you were now blood brothers?” Alice asked.

  “No, Fred led us through a fancy ceremony and made us all pledge to be like brothers. We sealed the pledge by dripping coyote blood on our hands as we shook them.

  “Fred then gave us our necklaces, and we put them on.

  ‘Wear these necklaces as a symbol of our kinship and our strength as blood brothers,’ he said.

  “The next day, the Rangers found us.”

  Alice smiled broadly. “Wow. Everyone’s going to love that story. . . . So, now you and Randy are going to make good on your pledge?”

  “Absolutely,” Steve said. “We’re not going to let him go to jail for something he didn’t do.”

  “That’s right,” Maria said. “And luckily a lot of people have stepped up and made contributions to Fred’s defense fund.”

  Alice got up. “Well, this article should help in that regard. “Thank you for talking with me.”

  They all shook hands and Alice left. Steve smiled at Maria and they got back to work as students began coming up out of curiosity or to listen to their pitch to get contributions for FDF.