Chronicles of the Fallen: A Policeman’S Tale

By A.S. Chambers

Author Andrew Chambers is a bit of recluse. He prefers the solitude of his peaceful farm in the middle of nowhere just outside of Chicago. But being invited to a convention for newly published books and authors is exciting. Though Chambers knows traveling to New York City could be a crazy and frightening journey, he embarks on the adventure.

On his first day out and about in New York, Chambers follows a path his father and grandfather before him took. He finds himself in Central Park at the Chess Pavilion sitting across the table from Connor MacCarith, a former Chicago policeman. MacCarith was known as one of the bravest policeman of his time, and unfortunately, he paid dearly while breaking up a speakeasy in the late 1930s. Chambers wants to hear the story of this heros life.

MacCarith begins his tale when he was only nineteen years old and change in one of the unruliest cities in Chicago. What follows is a narrative filled with adventure and interesting characters, sharing a chronicle of friendship, death, justice, and passion.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: May 30, 2017
• ISBN: 9781480848221

A.S. Chambers

A.S. Chambers admits that writing is hard, and it takes a certain type of person to sit diligently for hours to create a novel. He hopes to bring the reader alongas if standing right inside the storyexperiencing what the characters feel throughout the pages he has written. Chambers lives in Ontario, Canada. This is his debut novel.

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Copyright © 2017 A.S. Chambers.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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ISBN: 978-1-4808-4823-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-4821-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-4822-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017908573

Archway Publishing rev. date: 5/30/2017

Grand monuments and statues are remnants of the past, left by the wealthy and the powerful…

But we the common folk & the fallen

leave a more detailed account in our

life’s tales & travels.

A.S CHAMBERS

CONTENTS

A Brief Introduction

CHAPTER 1    A Stroll Through Memory Lane

CHAPTER 2    The Man They Called Brown

CHAPTER 3    Be Mine, Valentine

CHAPTER 4    Marilyn’s Rose

CHAPTER 5    Sarah & Bitsy

CHAPTER 6    A White Rose On The Wane

CHAPTER 7    A Very Empty Awakening

CHAPTER 8    A Tattered Escape Plan

CHAPTER 9    A Rail Yard Hooverville

CHAPTER 10  The Infamous Earl The Squirrel

CHAPTER 11  A Passing Of A Hero

CHAPTER 12  A Tribute Over Rosehill

Dearest Reader

A BRIEF INTRODUCTION

It was so peaceful today on our little farm way out in the middle of nowhere. The birds added to this great peaceful paradise adding their own crucial harmony of their beautiful concerto’s, as if it were the background music for a quiet scene from an old movie. At this time of day is when the world unwinds and the birds tend to communicate the loudest, like a great big network telling all their relatives what they did and where they were this stupendous day in the sunshine. Sitting on the Victorian style veranda taking in the day’s final glory and enjoying a peaceful sunset, I glance over at that old green rocker I finished only a couple seasons back, thinking of the great time I had with both of those adorable grand babies we were blessed with last fall. Beth and Zander remained in my mind for a reason and because of them as well as the persistence of my loving wife, I wrote out the tale I recited to them that rainy and cold long weekend last fall.

Writing A Warriors Tale was initially on my bucket list but with being a tradesman, I had no thoughts of writing during that time. I thought it would only be a pipe dream and never reality but my little Beth brought something out that I thought I had lost a long time ago. I was now a hero in her eyes and with her blessings and excitement for me to put pen to paper I eventually sat down and wrote out the glorious tale. With some luck and a lot encouragement we had it published. In my eyes it took no time at all to have it completed by a publisher which made me realize that this was not only a great adventure for me but also created the opportunity to possibly help someone along the way.

Karen being a loving and devoted wife, was busy yet again packing a large carry on for my adventures (this being about the tenth time) to help me be ready for all the places I had to go in New York, New York. Being invited to this convention for newly published books and authors was exciting, but in my mind it was a crazy and frightening journey that I was embarking on and being sort of recluse, I never really ventured off of my little piece of land. It kind of worried me seeing as how I was leaving only a day before the conference but the thoughts of seeing the sights and meeting interesting new people brought me realization that this experience may drum up something inside. It may give me something like the next great idea for the book I planned to start when I returned home after this trip. The writing of my books and stories occupied my mind and gave me purpose; like being in the trades writing as made all the stress, depression and anxiety simply melt away. The more I focused on writing these books, the more I found that I was very good at what I newly ventured into.

With the sun making its last appearance right before it slid into the waiting country side I knew it was a sign that I should go and help Karen before I had to be whisked off by shuttle bus to the airport. Opening the screen door and sliding off my shoes, I made my way to the staircase. Our house was always filled with love and the pictures on the wall proved it. Our family was average in size but packed with a thousand times the love one could imagine. If we had problems here we dealt with them, we solved them, and then we carried on. I went to the top of the stairs and walked down the hallway to see my beautiful wife finishing my travel bag. She had a way for every situation and she had a military kind of way to deal with them. Entering our bedroom Karen immediately started rhyming off what she had packed and where it was, right up to what gadgets she had stashed in the front and side pockets. I had everything from a make shift first aid kit right to every outfit she had spent mixing and matching in the past 3 days. Packing and re packing from the outdated wardrobe I seemed to own, she accomplished it and she made sure it was ready to go. I wasn’t a person for high end fashion, and to me a tee shirt and a good pair of jeans fit into every occasion; heck, for twenty plus years flannel and denim was my best friend and to change now would only confuse me .

After she ran the list through her mind for the third and final time she spun around and stated You’re all ready to go. If there is anything special you want for the flight you should collect it now.

I move across the room quickly, wrapping my arms around her waist and holding her tightly to my chest. Softly, I whispered in her ear… Hunni… The only special thing I need with me… is you.

She surprised me with that soft sweet smile that captured my heart from the very first time we met telling me that she loved me. Karen couldn’t travel with me this time because she had to look after her mother. But she promised me that we would go to New York another time, a time for just us. I softly kissed her and told her that things would be fine while I was away and that I would miss her dearly. While holding the travel bag in one hand and her hand in the other we made the way down the stairs and into the living room. Walking over to the door I set my bag down out of the way and proceeded to make my way back to sit with Karen. Turning on the television to catch the second half of an old black and white movie, I held onto her until the shuttle bus came, and with a kiss at the door a small tear formed in my eye. Karen touched my face, brushed the tear from my cheek and gently spoke where only I could hear;

I love you too Andy, and I will miss you while you’re away.

The shuttle bus honked like I was late so I began making my way to the door. As the honking persisted and continued rushing me and my bag to the waiting oversized taxi, the feeling’s of wanting to stay weighed upon me even more. I find myself holding Karen’s hand even more firmly. After kissing and holding her one last time I head for the waiting shuttle bus, handing my bag to the driver and making sure he stowed it correctly under the vehicle, stiff arming me in a way. He then escorted me onto the bus,

Feel free to sit anywhere, sir… we’re kind of late so there’s no time for long good byes.

With that I plunked my butt into the second seat and the door closed, having any type of feeling to abort this convention has now passed. Being locked in the tuna fish can they sent to transport me to the airport made me feel a bit of claustrophobia. Slowly, we retreated out of the driveway, looking back only to see my country oasis and my love, Karen slowly melt into the night.

The driver piped up I’m Jeff… If you want to rest and have short a nap, I will wake you when we arrive at the airport. What’s your gate again?

In a groggy voice half asleep I replied 3A on a flight to New York.

As we travelled through the bumps, the thoughts of adventure and discovery of a fascinating new city actively played in my mind slowly making me drift off to sleep. Next stop the airport and then the Big Apple… New York.

1

After waking up in a strange place and going through the rig-a-ma roll in the New York Airport, almost dying by a maniac cab driver and the restless sleep I had the night before filled with various emergency sirens, I made it to the shower to start the wake up process of a wonderful summers day in you guessed it, New York City. I always wondered why they would call this the Big Apple when there isn’t an apple tree for miles and with the sounds of the constant city’s hustle and bustle below me an apple wouldn’t and couldn’t grow so big. Temporarily lost in thought and remembering where my toiletries were placed by my very thorough wife, I immediately made my way to the tightly packed suitcase that Karen had packed only a day before for my long and scary trip from my old farm house four hours outside of Chicago to a monstrous city like this to promote my writing and novel. New York may have it’s dark sides just like the city of Chicago but through the grime and crime there were places to see, places to relax and get back to nature somewhat when you’re placed in a big and scary city that holds the stories of not only the living but the tales of the dead as well.

Soaking my head for what seemed to be a long and well needed shower I toweled off and headed back to the oversized carry on to grab out the outfit that Karen seemed to feel would be a casual wear on my first day here. I kind of lucked out finding a woman who looked after my everyday needs both when I was ushered out to these so called shindigs or events but also at home in our small piece of heaven located far out in the countryside. Karen was not only my loving wife and strongest supporter but was also my manager and dealt with the tidbits of me being an author. Now dressed, I walk over to the bathroom once more to put on a splash of one of Karen’s favorite colognes also applying a touch of deodorant. As I was preforming the mornings final duties, my mother’s voice sounded off inside of my wandering mind, Andrew… Too be liked is to be clean and with that an extra splash of scent was added. Just like that I was ready to explore and take in the proverbial sights of this great city. As the door of the plush hotel room closed behind me, I was ready for my first self guided official tour. This would be my first adventure in this interesting but dangerous place. My first important mission was the search for an amazing cup of coffee to open my senses and ready me for the up and coming day.

See as a writer I tend to test my surroundings and me being me and the start of the three day convention being tomorrow, I wanted to get a type of solstice before the grand event, to collect my bearings before my novel was unveiled before the masses.

I hit the street level of the hotel like a twenty year old on his first big adventures in this city that either made you or broke you. The excitement danced in my old eyes as I eagerly put one foot in front of the other looking for the best cup of coffee on this long boulevard and with thoughts that it may be the best in the city. I noticed when I arrived a short time ago in the dark that this city looked so different than in the late morning light because arriving the night before, it looked as if the balance of light and darkness added to the intrigue of both adventure and mystery, bringing to mind the stories I either read about or heard in my travels about this ginormous city they call the Big Apple.

As I walk through the sea of people scurrying their ways through this cosmopolitan rat race, running into buildings or crossing streets, I realized at that moment how much I really missed my drab and boring life we had made so many years ago with the purchase of our farm, and how truly lucky we we’re to have our own piece of land in the quietness of the countryside. As if it were magic, my cellphone vibrated in my jacket pocket. Retrieving it from where it was wedged tightly in my jacket I glanced at the rather large screen knowing too well it was Karen. Shes just nicely checking in to see if everything was alright and most of all if I was comfortable in the hotel she had reserved almost a month ago when we found out that I truly had to leave our own private refuge to come to a place that was so vast yet everywhere you looked a different story waiting to be discovered and told. Like their own separate individual movies playing out where everyone can see and watch, this my friends, is a writer’s dream and story paradise. A place not only to see, but to hear stories of the Fallen.

After three rings, I answer the newfangled thing with the true hate on for these blasted things and those thoughts were quickly changed to frustration in regards to how to answer the darn thing, but with a slide of a green slide bar that appeared on the screen Karen’s voice came over the handset.

Nothing in the world could take the shear excitement away from this moment. It was a lovely day and to top that, the most beautiful woman (in my eyes) was on the phone now. Her voice warmed my heart as she asked me questions from the flight to the hotel accommodations and then finally on my health and what I was eating. I told her about my adventures so far since landing and entering one of the most famous and dangerous cities in the country. She didn’t want me to go without her but at the last moment we had unexpected family matter to tend to and her elderly mother who would be laid up for a bit over a resent surgery. Her voice was like a soft song that I only knew the words too that floated gently through the air, blowing around for only I to enjoy. After our conversation and the long bouts back and forth of good byes and I miss you ton’s, I hung up and headed into a Coffee Shoppe for that first cup of Joe of the day… yes, coffee is sustenance for the living.

After waiting in line for thirty minutes I finally make it to the sales counter. A pimply faced acne survivor popped his head out from underneath the counter and with a squeaky man voice stated to me that he would be right with me to take my order. After two minutes he resurfaced again promptly fixing his tussled uniform and paper hat. He looked at me and stated

Thank you for waiting, may I take your order?

So without hesitation I placed my order for what I expected to be a simple cup of coffee and a bagel toasted with extra butter. Looking at his name tag that read J.J, I again promptly a reordered my coffee a second time for poor Mr. J.J who seems to be unable to get my order right due to the mass amount of orders he was taking through what seemed to be a morning rush of dozens of people coming from nowhere. He was getting agitated and through the stress started reciting the order back to himself. The Coffee Wizard employee looked blankly through me like I just lambasted him with a heavy object,

Y..y..you want a what, a coffee???.

Poor J.J looked like something in his head and brain had just snapped and fizzled and just continued to stand there as if he was stuck with his brain being in two different time zones at once.

It’s coffee I replied, the bases to all the funky concoctions that you serve here, it is made by one simple and vital main ingredient. Within a few more minutes, two other employees rushed to his side and with one grabbing him under one arm whisked him into a back room. The second of the helping ladies popped into J.J’s spot on the front line and proceeded to take my order again.

Hi, I’m Becky and I’m your server today…what can I get you today??

I reordered my coffee and bagel and Becky who must have been a bit brighter quickly took my money and my order in record time and passed me down the line to the next Coffee Wizard employee where they prepare my morning pick me up. After a forty minute run around through a vicious line of people looking for that certain craving of the magical drippings of complete goodness, I made it out alive just to miss the next flood of people heading into the already crowded coffee shop. Thinking as I sipped on the five dollar cup of what should be gold, I couldn’t help but think about poor J.J and the flood of forty plus more people that rushed into his place of work. I hope they stay on menu with the Cappuccino’s and Frappuccino’s and not order a simple cup of coffee. The poor kid would probably lose it again and run screaming up the block. The thought of it would be funny in a sense but controlling both my verbal seepage and laughing to myself as I walk down the Avenue, I am keeping my twisted thoughts to myself not sharing it with a single soul.

As I walked along I took in both the sights, sounds and smells of this monster of a city, every walk of life lived here as if it were a sea of humanity all rolled in one central area, yes everything and anything built around one big park, and with that thought in mind, I headed for the place I heard about when I was a kid from my father who once in a while came here for business with his firm as a district attorney. My father followed his father’s route in life. Lawyers in my mind were all the same and I had to break the mold and separate myself away from the family business to make my own way in this life as a carpenter, welder fitter and now an author.

Slowly dodging my way down the sidewalk avoiding people all the while trying not looking like a true vacationing visitor.

Following a general and basic GPS, I made my way down Central Park West to finally arrive at the place my father once told me about. See, think of this place as one of the largest natural emeralds sitting in a steel and concrete infused crown placed as if a jeweler planned the city from an aerial point from somewhere in the vast white fluffy clouds, and in the center a blue sapphire representing The Lake where thousands of people both young and old would come to view the wonders of this park that sits directly in the Big Apple’s crown.

It’s noon and like a flash mob or an old fire drill you once had to go through in elementary school, the city let out and it was now really difficult to freely walk down Central Park West. So, being both a shut in and claustrophobic and the massive flood of bodies on the street, I respectfully cross into the park at the Strawberry Fields entrance where it cut the walking traffic virtually in half. The mass amount of bodies made the feeling of being boxed in. So when I entered the park it slowly eased my mind making the anxiety of the masses of people melt away and dissipate till the once on-coming panic attack went away.

I walked for a bit behind a young couple who had no problem showing the world that their love was strong, hugging and kissing as they made their way towards the place where all movies show of this colossal giant. The Lake, you would think in a massive park like this they would name this attractive spot other than what they did, something pretty and deserving like Swan Lake or Lovers Lake. As I rounded a bend I made it to the little gem of a lake in the center of a concrete jungle, what a beautiful little place and as I took in the sights others were indulging the peacefulness, I also took in how others reacted and as I looked around I saw both the young to the old, from every race of mankind watching them enjoying such a wondrous early afternoon playing in this little treasure of a park.

My mind shifted to the thoughts of how it would be so nice if Karen were beside me and how she would just love to walk hand in hand here. With that thought, I decided to snap a photo with the so called cellphone Karen had purchased for me for my birthday. The cellphone recorded a snap shot of scene but it didn’t allow me to retain the feeling and experience that I felt, but maybe i’ll get to feel it again when I return with Karen. I try not to ruin the moment by struggling with opening the camera, and with that, I began thinking of how I would fine the photo in all those darn app’s. I feel at times that the world itself will one day be an application on a much bigger device.

So after walking a bit, I stopped a young woman who was in the cool down mode of what looks to be one heck of a work out to ask her the direction to both the carousel and most importantly the zoo.

Excuse me Miss… I asked touching her shoulder gently and like a frightened deer she literally swung around to see who and or what tapped her sending the two ear buds flying from both ears in one shot.

What…. What do you want from me?? she replied in a scared but firm tone.

I look her straight in the eyes and ask, Miss… I know you must get this about a hundred times a day but… at that point she defensively replies to me.

Listen up pervert, I have a boyfriend and one who’s a lot bigger that you and secondly there are laws you know… and that little phone there can land you in a heap of trouble, you stalker!!!

I backed up a bit and calmly explained to the young lady that I was sorry that it came across that way but I thought with her running through the park that she would know where my two destinations were and not that I wanted her per-say, she was like twenty years old or something and I wouldn’t know what to do with someone that young, further more at times my mouth slips up and I promptly replied to her.

I’m into the true classics and breaking in a new model wasn’t really on my bucket list at this time of my life, to really dig deep… and to be really honest, I have children your age… Miss.

The young lady blushed a bit and after a little laugh she pointed me off into the direction of the carousel and told me exactly where the zoo was, which was a little bit further past the carousel, with the new directions registered in my head I thanked her and left on the way following the path taking in the birds and the shade on this hot a sticky day, as I looked around the masses were now entering the park with their briefcases and bagged lunches looking for the shade to pop a squat and eat their lunches while admiring the serenity of both the city’s wildlife and the heavily treed park. This quickened my pace and I slowly made my way further into the park following Terrace Drive passing a little fountain and the Daniel Webster Monument on my way to see Bethesda Fountain. To see that famous fountain that has seen dozens of movies and millions of happily married people’s personal pictures, I rounded the corner to find the stairs ascending to both the fountain and the bend where the paddle boats pass by. To see such stunning sculptures and stone work amazed me, thinking a hundred years prior to me standing here, asking myself ‘who else did before me?’. Was there past presidents or even a King or Queen plus the added bonus of all types of celebrities from both movies and the sports worlds?

The Angel of The Water was truly breath taking, as she spreads both her arms and wings welcoming all strangers with her warmth, beauty and grace, and the cherubs holding her with great care helping her welcome her intrigued onlookers. The base drew you in only captivating you