The Masked Family

Chapter 9

Chapter 9Lilly, Pennsylvania - Saturday, April 5, 1924, 9:00 PM"You've got the wrong man here," said Father Stanislavski, standing between the crowd and the man at the ticket counter. "Leave him alone."

Though Olenka had stayed back until now, she moved up to stand beside Father. Her heart pounded as she looked at the angry faces glaring toward her.

Dominick Campitelli and Nicolo Genovese had the angriest faces of all and stood right in front. They were two people who usually made Olenka feel at ease, but now they just made her nervous.

"Out of the way, Father." Dominick stepped up to stand toe-to-toe with Father Stanislavski. "We have business with that guy."

The whole crowd pressed forward...as much of it, at least, as could fit in the train station ticket office. Olenka guessed that forty or fifty people had squeezed into the room, with another fifty or so just outside the door.

They had all followed the same guy who had gotten off the train, the guy whom Father Stanislavski and Olenka now shielded. The guy was short and stout, maybe in his thirties, with thin brown hair and a bushy mustache. He wore a dark blue jacket and trousers, black necktie, and a blue and black cap...what looked like a train conductor's uniform.

That was the problem.

"Now hold on a minute." Father Stanislavski was usually a soft-spoken man, but now he raised his voice in a commanding way. "What will it hurt to make sure this is the man you want?"

"We want those trains out of here now." Dominick looked at the man at the counter as he said it. "We want those Klan boys trapped here without a way home."

"Then we'll show them some local hospitality," said Nicolo.

Some of the men in the crowd cheered. One of them waved a rifle overhead.

Olenka's eyes widened. It was the first gun she'd seen that day, and it made her wonder how many more were in the room.

It also made her wonder how smart it was to be one of the two people getting in the crowd's way right now.

Father Stanislavski raised his arms. "Hold it!" The crowd quieted as he turned to the man at the counter. "Excuse me, sir. What's your name?"

The man took off his cap. "W-Wilbur," he said, nodding six times fast.

"And are you a conductor, Wilbur?" said Father Stanislavski.

"No, F-Father," said Wilbur. "I'm a brakeman, and I'm n-not even on the j-job today. Just on my w-way to Altoona."

"Thank you, Wilbur." Father Stanislavski turned back to the crowd. "You see? You have the wrong man here."

"He's lying." Dominick snorted and shook his head. "I would, if I were him."

"No," said Wilbur. "I'm t-telling the truth. Louise knows m-me." Wilbur turned and peered into the ticket window. "Louise? Louise?"

No one answered. Wilbur leaned closer to the window and called out again, but still there was no sign of Louise.

Dominick laughed. "That's proof enough for me. I guess you are telling the truth."

The crowd laughed, too.

"C'mon now." Dominick pushed past Father Stanislavski. "We're not gonna hurt you. We just want you to take the train outta here."

"But I'm n-not the conductor." Wilbur shrank away from Dominick's outstretched hand.

Father Stanislavski grabbed Dominick's shoulder. "Careful," said Father. "Remember how it feels."

"How what feels?" Dominick sounded annoyed.

"Being intimidated," said Father Stanislavski. "Being terrorized."

Dominick hesitated. Olenka saw the muscles of his jaw working as he clenched and released his teeth.

"How do you usually get things done?" said Father Stanislavski. "Surely not like this."

Dominick looked back over his shoulder, his expression more troubled than mean. He shook his head, then shrugged off Father's hand. In that instant, Olenka knew that Father Stanislavski had calmed him down.

"I didn't mean to come on so strong," he told Wilbur. "We're havin' a bad day around here. Any chance you might be able to help us out?"

Just then, a man yelled from the rear of the crowd outside. "That's not a conductor! They got the conductor over by the engine right now!"

Everyone turned and headed for the door, leaving Wilbur behind at the ticket counter.

Father Stanislavski and Olenka brought up the rear. Just as they stepped outside, the front of the crowd broke into a run.

Ahead of them, several men with uniforms similar to Wilbur's were scrambling up into one of the trains.

"Get 'em!" said one of the men in the crowd. "Get 'em and hold 'em!"

Father Stanislavski shouted through cupped hands. "Everyone, wait! Don't make the situation worse!"

Just then, something exploded.

A thunderous blast erupted, echoing off the mountainsides, and everyone stopped charging toward the train. The great boom sounded so close that people looked all around to see if something had blown up in the middle of town.

Olenka looked around, too. The porch of the ticket office shook underfoot, and she heard the sound of shattering glass.

Wilbur darted out of the ticket office without his hat. "What is it? What happened?"

Father Stanislavski put a hand on Olenka's shoulder. "Stay close," he told her. "No matter what."

Olenka noticed that the tone of his voice had gotten harsher. "I will, Father."

"Things could get bad fast now." Father Stanislavski drew a hand over his head, smoothing his wispy white hair.

As soon as he'd said it, a second explosion let loose, louder than the first. Olenka covered her ears but could still feel the shockwaves rippling through her body from head to toe. Her heart hammered so fast in her chest, she thought it might be the next thing to explode.

"They're blowin' up the town!" said a man in the crowd. "The Klan's blowin' us all up!"