ANNOUNCER:
In the Blizzard of Ought Eleven . . .that's 2011, DIBS was Gold up North. Men fought and clawed for an open space. Bringing Law and a shovel was Rahm of the North - Mountie Haul & Snow Removal! Let's join Rahn of North for another adventure up North!
Now, as gunshots echo across the windswept snow-covered regions of the wild Northwest, Goupon Puffed Coupons and Alison Davis Radical Real Estate, the breakfast deals shot from guns, presents The Challenge of the Flat-Iron! It's Loop Basil; swiftest and strongest lead dog of the north blazing the trail for Sergeant Rahm of the North Mountie Haul and Snow Removal Police, in his relentless pursuit of lawbreakers and DIBS jumpers!
SERGEANT:
On Basil! - On, you huskies!
ANNOUNCER:
Gold - gold - discovered in the North! A stampede to the North in the wild race for riches and a parking spot! Back to the days of the Blizzard and Gold Rush with Groupon Puffed Coupons and Alison Davis Radical Real Estate bringing you the adventures of Sergeant Rahm and his wonder dog, Basil of the Loop, as they meet The Challenge of the Flat-Iron.
(MUSIC)
BOY:
Extreee! Extreee! Hear all about it!
ANNOUNCER:
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ANNOUNCER:
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ANNOUNCER:
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GIRL:
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ANNOUNCER:
No waiting, either! Listen for full details in just a few minutes.
(MUSIC)
NARRATOR:
A light snow was falling as Ned Johnson entered his DIBS that was located about ten miles north of Ford City - staging area for the Mountie Haul and Snow Removal Police. As he disappeared into the entrance, the stealthy figure of a half-breed emerged from the falling snow. The Bridgeport half-breed -Irish/Lithuanian Conor Tiga hesitated only long enough to make sure that Ned's tracks led into the DIBS -(cleared out parking space marked out with debris). Then, shielding a match from the wind, he lighted a fuse that dangled from something he carried. Threw the bundle into the Parking spot and ran. Suddenly - there was the sound of an explosion!
F/X:
EXPLOSION
F/X:
AVALANCHE
NARRATOR:
Salt and snow tumbled down the hillside and the Dibs entrance was closed. At last there was silence, and the snow fell quietly and steadily, covering all signs of human footprints.
It was almost a week later that Sergeant Rahm of the Northwest Mountie Haul and Snow Removal sat with Ned's son Bob in their two-flat about a half mile away from the Dibs where the tragedy had occurred. A big black-and-white husky dog sat beside his young master, his head on the boy's knee.
F/X:
DOG PANTING
BOB:
Isn't it funny, Sergeant, the way dogs seem to know when you're unhappy? Blackie hasn't left my side since Dad died.
SERGEANT:
I hope you won't mind telling me all you know about your father's death, Bob. I know it was an accident, but I'd like to hear more, if you don't mind talking about it.
BOB:
I'd be glad to tell you anything, Sergeant. There really isn't much to tell. I went into Old Town with Uncle Jim for some supplies, and when we came back, Dad wasn't here. Uncle Jim lives in his own flat about a quarter mile from here, so he went right on home.
SERGEANT:
This is late afternoon?
BOB:
Yes, it was almost suppertime when we got back here. When Dad didn't come home, I got Uncle Jim, and we went to the Dibs to look for him. It was all caved in and, well, when we found Dad...
SERGEANT:
You don't have to tell me that part of it. Bob, I talked to your Uncle. Was your father ever careless with dynamite?
BOB:
Oh no, not at all, Sergeant. He never wanted me around when he was blasting it. I guess that's why he did it on the day I went to Old Town - he was always afraid I'd get hurt.
SERGEANT:
Something must have been wrong with the fuse. Of course, there are plenty of accidents like that, but your father always seemed so careful.
BOB:
He was. But I guess accidents can happen no matter how careful you are.
SERGEANT:
What are you plans, Bob?
BOB:
I'm going to stay right here. Uncle Jim thinks I ought to sell out to him and go to school, but I don't think so.
SERGEANT:
It might be a good idea, Bob. Would you like to go to college?
BOB:
Yes, and I intend to someday. But Dad was sure that there's a rich vein of parking in that Dibs, and I don't want to sell it. It would take a long time to dig it all out again. I'm eighteen, and I don't see why I can't work with Uncle Jim.
SERGEANT:
Well, I should think he'd want you to, he needs your help, doesn't he?
BOB:
Yes, but you see Uncle Jim and I don't get along too well. He doesn't like dogs, for one thing.
SERGEANT:
That's why you insist on living here alone in Bucktown, and not moving in with him.
BOB:
That's one reason. You see, Blackie doesn't like him, and I've always let Blackie stay in the flat with me.
SERGEANT:
Why doesn't Blackie like him?
BOB:
Uncle Jim kicked him once when Blackie was just a puppy. He's never forgotten it.
F/X:
KNOCKING ON DOOR
SERGEANT:
I see.
F/X:
DOG GROWL
BOB:
Calm down, Blackie-boy. Just a minute. Come on Blackie, I'll have to tie you up.
SERGEANT:
Is that your Uncle?
BOB:
Yes. When he comes in, I have to tie Blackie to the bed. Uncle Jim's afraid of him.
SERGEANT:
Oh.
BOB:
Come on. Easy now. There you are, boy, now lie down. All right, Uncle Jim, come in.
F/X:
BARKING
SERGEANT:
Quiet, Basil. Lay down, boy.
BOB:
Hello, Uncle Jim.
JIM:
Hello, Bob. Well, how are you, Sergeant?
SERGEANT:
Fine, thank you.
JIM:
Is that dog with you safe?
SERGEANT:
Of course. He won't hurt you.
JIM:
I never trust any of them. That dog of Bob's would just as soon take a hunk out of you just looking at you.
SERGEANT:
Dogs don't like people who are afraid of them. They always sense it.
JIM:
Well I can't help not likin' em. Makes me to think about Ned.
SERGEANT:
I understand.
JIM:
I've been trying to get Bob to move into my flat with me. I'm lonesome for him all alone here without his dad.
BOB:
I'm not lonesome as long as I have Blackie.
JIM:
Well I sure don't want HIM in my cabin. Even if he was gentle, he's too big. Ah, I swear Bob, I think that dog is the reason you don't want to get off to college.
BOB:
If I went, I'd take him with me.
JIM:
Hey Sergeant, maybe you can talk some sense into Bob. I'll give him money enough for his father's share of our mine to put him through college. After that, he'll have a profession. He'll be able to take care of himself.
BOB:
What do you think, Sergeant?
SERGEANT:
That's something you'll have to decide for yourself, Bob.
BOB:
I'll be out at the DIBS tomorrow to start work Uncle Jim, there big money to be made in parking.
JIM:
Well, all right. It's like the Sergeant says, I guess, it's up to you to decide.
NARRATOR:
Sergeant Rahm had gone back to Ford City the following day. For two days Bob had worked hard at the DIBS taking out the ice, snow and rubble. That night, snugly rapped in fur robes, he slept soundly in his flat with Blackie lying on the floor beside his cot. Suddenly the big dog raised his head in the darkness. His ears pricked forward, and a low growl rumbled in his throat. At the sound, Bob stirred and raised his head.
F/X:
DOG GROWL
BOB:
What's wrong, Blackie? You hear something, boy? Wait, I'll put my boots on. All right boy, I'll let you out. Suppose you heard some kind of animal, huh? Now wait till I light a match and find the door. There we are. Get him, boy.
F/X:
DOG BARKING
F/X:
STRONG WIND
BOB:
I'll find my gun - now, that the Supreme Court says it;s OK, but there are so many restrictions I might as well use a big plank. I better put a parka on. There we are. I'm coming, fella. Hold him, boy. What is it? You got something up that tree!
TIGA:
Take dog away! Him tried kill me.
BOB:
Tiga. Is that you?
TIGA:
Take dog away. Him chased me here!
BOB:
Back Blackie. Get back, boy. Now.
F/X:
DOG STOPS BARKING
BOB:
Why are you prowling around here at this time of night, Tiga? Come on down. I'll hold Blackie. Easy boy. Come here, come on.
F/X:
DOG GROWLING
TIGA:
Me go home now.
BOB:
But you live way over near the Bubbly Crick in Bridgeport, where real estate values have soared despite this lagging economy. What are you looking for? Did you drop something?
TIGA:
You take dog in cabin. Me fine. I went De La Salle and DePaul Law -covered good. Plenty drag.
BOB:
Here's something. I guess this is what you dropped. A knife.
TIGA:
Me pull knife when dog come.
BOB:
You've been drinking, Tiga. I'd better keep this knife for tonight. You go on home. I'll give it to you when you're sober.
TIGA:
Me want knife now.
F/X:
DOG GROWL
BOB:
Go on home, I said. Do you want me to let this dog go?
TIGA:
That my knife, you give back. I passed Bar on 4th try.
BOB:
I'll give you half a minute to leave, or I'll let this dog take care of you. Are you going?
TIGA:
Me go, me go. You be sorry. Hit me - hit ten thousand.
BOB:
All right. All right, boy, he's gone. Come on back in the flat. I wonder if he was trying to steal something. He is a De Paul grad. He was mighty close to our flat. I'm glad I have you, old boy.
NARRATOR:
It was the following evening. Blackie chained to the cot in the corner. Lay with his nose between his front feet. But his eyes followed every move Jim Rance made as he talked to Bob.
JIM:
I can't imagine what that half-breed Mick/Loogan could have been doing around here last night. He...he was probably trying to steal some candidate mailers out of your slot.
BOB:
He didn't go near the mail slot, Uncle Jim. I saw his tracks in the snow this morning. They led right to my door.
JIM:
He never liked your father, but that don't mean he'd hold a grudge against you. Wait a minute - he is half Irish; grudge is on!
BOB:
Why didn't he like Dad?
JIM:
Well, along time ago, your dad knocked him down. He caught him stealing election mailers out of the slot. I think he hit him for it.
BOB:
That's funny. I wonder why Dad never told me about it?
JIM:
I suppose he forgot about it.
BOB:
When did it happen?
JIM:
Oh...quite awhile ago...I don't remember exactly. I think, uh, we were on our way to Old Town for some supplies or something.
BOB:
But Dad always told me everything. That was certainly exciting enough; he'd hardly forget it.
JIM:
Maybe he thought it might make you nervous? Anyway, why don't you come over and live with me? It'll be safer.
BOB:
Oh I'm safe enough here Uncle Jim as long as Blackie's with me. I'd rather live by myself than give him up.
JIM:
Well, have it your own way. I won't stand for that dog in my tasfully appointed condo on Pinegrove, though. I guess I better get home now. We've got a hard days work ahead of us.
BOB:
We'll soon have the DIBS all cleaned out again.
JIM:
Ya.
BOB:
Should be able to start getting gold out pretty soon. Soon as parking opens/
JIM:
Yep, in a couple of days, I'd say.
BOB:
Do you want me to call for you on the way to the DIBS in the morning?
JIM:
No, no, I've got some work to do in my place - valances and sheers - in the morning. I'll be there later. You go on ahead and start work on the DIBS.
BOB:
All right. I'll try to get an early start.
F/X:
STRONG WIND
NARRATOR:
It was rather late the next morning when Bob walked hurriedly toward the DIBS, with Blackie frisking along beside him. As they approached a steep slope that loomed upside the path, a Norway rat darted out of the thickets. Blackie, with a joyful bark, pursued.
F/X:
DOG BARKING
BOB:
Get him, boy!
NARRATOR:
As the dog disappeared there was a sudden ominous sound from above.
F/X:
AVALANCHE
NARRATOR:
Rock, snow and ice came crashing down the side of the Flat Iron Building on North & Ashland! Bob was motionless with fright for a moment, then ran desperately to get out of the way of the avalanche. But a piece of ice struck him a glancing blow. He fell. Loose ice and snow showered over him, as he lay face down helpless and unconscious.
(MUSIC)
ANNOUNCER:
We'll continue our story in just a moment.
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ANNOUNCER:
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ANNOUNCER:
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ANNOUNCER:
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GIRL:
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ANNOUNCER:
Well, what could be sweller? Now back to Sgt. Rahm of Mounties and Afghan Basil of the Loop!
(MUSIC)
NARRATOR:
Now, to continue our story.
F/X:
STRONG WIND
NARRATOR:
As the avalanche roared down the slope covering Bob Johnson, Blackie, returning from his pursuit of the rabbit, saw his master fall.
F/X:
DOG BARKING AND WHIMPERING
NARRATOR:
But by the time the big dog reached him, his body was completely covered by ice, snow and rubble. Frantically Blackie began to dig, whining and whimpering. At last he reached the fur hood of his master. Desperately the big dog tugged at it. Lifting Bob's face from the snow, only to have it drop back again. Blackie barked helplessly. He knew he couldn't drag the unconscious form from the thick heap pile above it. It was then that he heard the bark of a dog. And the sound of a dog team from the main trail that paralleled the path to the mine. Blackie raced toward the sound through the trees and barked frantically as he saw Sergeant Rahm approaching on the trail.
SERGEANT:
On Basil, Come you Husky. ????Well Blackie, where's Bob fella? That's strange, he seems to be in trouble. Want us to follow you boy?
NARRATOR:
Blackie running into the woods and then back towards the Sergeant, barked furiously.
SERGEANT:
On huskies!????
NARRATOR:
With Basil leading the way the Sergeant turned the dog team onto the side street over by Ashland and followed. When he reached the base of the Flat Iron, Blackie was standing beside the half-buried form of his master.
SERGEANT:
Whoa Basil?????huskies. It's Bob. Never mind Blackie, I'll get him out. I shovel like a demon! He's still alive. We'll get him home old boy, don't you worry.
NARRATOR:
It was some time later that Bob opened his eyes. He was lying in his cabin, and Sergeant Preston was standing beside his cot. King lay quietly in a corner. But Blackie licked his Master's hand and whined anxiously.
BOB:
How did you get here?
SERGEANT:
Easy Bob. I took Cicero north from Ford City to Archer and Archer to Ashland and North again . . .the only trouble was at Ogden and all the truck traffic.
BOB:
Sergeant Rahm? What happened?
SERGEANT:
You were caught in an avalanche. Should be able to sue the #$%^ out of the Flat Iron owners. Blackie must have heard me coming on the trail, and led me to you.
BOB:
Oh, I remember now. Something hit me. Ah, my head.
SERGEANT:
I bandaged it. You'll be all right soon. There were no bones broken, but you were badly bruised in spots, you were very lucky. Have cell phone phots done before the bruising goes away - I am a lawyer.
BOB:
Is Blackie hurt?
SERGEANT:
No, I guess he wasn't caught in it.
BOB:
I remember now. He chased a rat. And I heard what sounded like an explosion.
SERGEANT:
An explosion? . . .wait a minute. There are no rats in Chicago. You mean you heard the ice cracking off the buidling.
BOB:
Maybe that's what it was. Maybe I just imagined it, but it sounded like an explosion. Like somebody planted a blast on that roof to start an avalanche.
SERGEANT:
Did you see anyone around just before the avalanche?
BOB:
No...no, I didn't Sergeant.
SERGEANT:
It's lucky that Blackie was with you. Hadn't been for him coming to get us, you'd have smothered or frozen to death.
BOB:
It IS lucky that I have Blackie. I'm beginning to wonder if...
SERGEANT:
What were you going to say, Bob?
BOB:
I...guess I'm just imagining things.
SERGEANT:
Tell me what's bothering you.
F/X:
DOG GROWL
F/X:
BANGING ON DOOR
BOB:
Well I... It's Uncle Jim. Hand me Blackie's leash, will you please, Sergeant?
SERGEANT:
Glad to. Here it is. I'll let your Uncle in.
BOB:
Quiet boy - quiet. There you are.
JIM:
Hello Sergeant. I THOUGHT that was your team outside.
SERGEANT:
Come in Rance. Blackie's tied.
JIM:
You mean Bob is here.
SERGEANT:
Bob's hurt.
BOB:
Hello, Uncle Jim.
JIM:
Hey Bob, what happened?
BOB:
Didn't you hear the avalanche? It happened right near the DIBS. I got caught in it.
JIM:
Avalanche? Well no, I haven't been to the DIBS. I spent the whole morning working on my sheers and valances. I just came over here to borrow some tea. Are you hurt much?
SERGEANT:
His head was cut, but he'll be up by tomorrow.
JIM:
Could we take him over to my condo on Pinegrove? It's bigger and we could leave the dog in this room.
BOB:
Sergeant Rahm is going to stay with me tonight Uncle Jim. He has to stay somewhere, so I asked him to stay here.
JIM:
Oh...I see. Show tunes not fun anymore. . . .Que Sera.
BOB:
Anyway, Blackie saved my life, and I'm not going to leave him.
JIM:
So he saved you, huh?
SERGEANT:
Dogs are handy to have around, Rance. You should learn to like them. I love dogs! Four legged ones too.
JIM:
Well I'm afraid that's impossible. I don't feel comfortable in here with that dog of yours loose.
BOB:
The tea is over in the cupboard Uncle Jim. There's nothing you can do here. Sergeant Rahm will take care of me.
JIM:
Well if there's nothing I can do, I'll get some tea, and be running along. I'm sure glad you weren't hurt seriously, Bob.
F/X:
SCOOPING SOUND IN BOWL
BOB:
I'll be able to work tomorrow. Did you get enough tea?
JIM:
Yeah, this is plenty. Well if there's anything I can do, just let me know, huh.
SERGEANT:
Bob will be all right, I'm sure.
JIM:
I'll right. Goodbye
SERGEANT:
Bye.
BOB:
Sergeant, I hope you didn't mind when I told him you were going to stay here.
SERGEANT:
As a matter a fact I'll be glad to stay. You had some reason for saying that. Your face looked, well, a little frightened, I thought. What is it, Bob? What's bothering you?
BOB:
Uncle Jim didn't stay at his condo all morning.
SERGEANT:
He didn't? How do you know?
BOB:
Because I went to his condo before starting for the DIBS. I told him I planned to go early this morning so he said not to wait for him. He had some work to do. But I overslept this morning. I thought maybe he'd be ready to go with me by then, so I went to his condo. He had already left.
SERGEANT:
You sure he had gone to the mine? Maybe he was out getting wood.
BOB:
No, no I looked all over for him, and there were fresh tracks in the snow; his tracks on the way to the mine.
SERGEANT:
But why would he lie?
(Music. . .)
ANNOUNCER: Tune in soon for more of this thrilling tale of the North with Rahm of the North and his faithful Afghan Basil of Mountie Haul and Snow Removal. DIBS IS GOLD up North! Tune in again, but NOT during the Skinny and Houlie Show on Saturday at 3PM on Chicago's WVEVAM Ethnic Station AM 1450.
