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Episode
006 |
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Good versus Right Marilyn
Johnston Age
– 22 Claims
to Fame – Founder of the World Alliance (now defunct), survivor of multiple
attempts on her life Status
– Non-Knight, on hiatus from college due to financial reasons, restaurant
worker He crossed the street, the last
light of the sun staining the dark purple sky with edges of pink. On the sidewalk as the traffic light
changed, On the far side of the room, a
large hand-written bulletin was hanging from a tack board. It read; Town Council Meeting 6pm – 8pm 3rd Floor Auditorium The room was large and vaguely
shaped like an undersized baseball field.
A stage with several folding chairs and tables waited with a podium
out front while rows and rows of uncomfortable government seating extended
back to the wall. The acoustics of the
room magnified every sound, no matter how insignificant, while the bright
lights overhead seemed to wash out every color that entered into their broad
field of influence. After some coughing and shifting,
a small man in an ugly brown suit and uglier haircut came to the center
podium on stage. “Thank you, ladies
and gentlemen,” he began meekly, “for coming out to this Question-and-answer
meeting with the city officials. We
want to thank Chief of Police Alexander Warren and Mayor’s Aid Kiasha
Margolis for taking time out of their busy schedules,” pronounced softly “to
be here.” The man turned to the two
semi-important people that sat at the tables, applauding. The crowd in the room did so by rote
manners. “Now, before we start with some
questions, we’d like to ask Chief of Police Warren to talk, just briefly
about the Crimson Rose.” The little man with the slight
hunch moved away from the podium as the man in a police uniform replaced
him. “But the reality of the matter,”
he went on, gripping the sides of the podium with his meaty hands,
“vigilantism doesn’t solve crime; it makes it worse. Vigilantes are the stuff of movies and
comic books,” he said with unhidden disdain.
“In the real world, trying to do something like what this nut job is
doing will get you killed, or worse, get others killed.” “Vigilantism is a crime,” the
chief went on. “It’s a crime that’s
sometimes worse than the crime that a vigilante might be trying to stop. Stopping crime is the polices’ job. And we do our jobs…” “Not very well,” came a hidden
shout from the meat of the room. The chief glared in the direction
of the voice, but looked away. “This
Crimson Rose fellow is a menace and a danger, to himself, to those around
him, and to our city. He must be
stopped and he will be stopped.” As the chief sat down, a few in
the crowd applauded. The spindly little
man came back to the podium. “Now,” he
said with a nervous smile. “We’d like
to welcome the Mayor’s civic aid Kiasha Margolis.” More rote applause as the young
black woman with overly large ears came to the podium. “Good evening,” she said with a thick
Episcopalian voice. “I want to talk to
you tonight about the Crimson Rose,” she said, reading her speech off of note
cards. “The Crimson Rose is a
vigilante who has been terrorizing our city streets for a month now. There have been nine confirmed attacks by
him with another two that are suspected attacks attributed to him. Now, by confirmed I mean…” “Thank you,” said the tiny man
taking the podium once again. “Now, we
want to open the floor up to any questions for our panel of distinguished
guests. So, please,” he explained as
people began to line up at the two podiums.
“Just come up behind the podiums and I will call on you.” Finally, the man pointed to a
large black mother at the podium to his left.
“Yes, ma’am,” he acknowledge.
“Who are you addressing your question to and what is your question?”
he instructed. “Um, yeah,” the woman said with a
fierce attitude. “I want to know why
the hell are police trying to hunt this guy down rather than stopping the
criminals that he’s having to stop.” An eruption of applause and cheers
came from the crowd. Whistles echoed
painfully through the room as the din of appreciation drowned out the
speakers. “I mean, come on,” the woman
continued as the people’s cheers grew lighter, many of the people waiting in
line going back to their seats. “The
police ain’t doing a damn thing in this town.
They’re more worried about their uniforms and their nice, pretty squad
cars than they are stopping any real crime.
And when someone finally starts to do something about it in this town,
the police got to come down on him, saying he’s as bad or worse than the
criminals he’s stopping. That’s bull,”
she declared emphatically with a swirl of her head. A second round of applause began. “As for why the Rose is a danger,”
he said, the change in subject cooling his words. “Crime is an act of desperation. And desperate people do desperate things. If the Rose tries to stop a theft, and the
criminal’s desperate enough, that theft may turn into murder. Moreover, that’s not even addressing the
issue of trespassing and violation of civil rights. It might seem really glorious and dramatic
for one person to take a stand,” he said mockingly imitating a movie
voice-over, “but the reality is that vigilantes break a lot of laws in doing
something that is very dangerous.” The chief stepped back from the
podium, trying hard not to glare at the woman who had asked the question. As he stepped back, the small man came
back. “Yes,” came a familiar voice. “Do you at least acknowledge,”
said the young, dark-haired woman standing at the right podium, “that the
Crimson Rose has done some real good?” |
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