Another Excerpt from my novel, “All Fools Down”

Four weeks later, in July of 1957, William Peter Bennett stood in a line of young men, boys really, waving goodbye to mothers and fathers. The boys tramped up a metal stairway that had been rolled up to an airliner with “Braniff Airways” painted on its side in big red letters. Midway Airport was a few short miles west of Will’s neighborhood and all its troubles. His thoughts were filled with a mixture of joy and guilt as he picked out his mother’s tiny figure and saw her waving one hand and wiping her eyes with the other. Vincent had shouted his goodbye on his way out the front door to work earlier that morning. Glad to see me go, Will thought.
He had fixed his mother’s position below the last letter in the Braniff Airlines sign on the terminal building, and when he reached the airliner door he turned to scan the crowd one last time. He had left a message for his father, but knew in his heart that Martin Bennett would not be there. Still, he looked for a head of wavy brick-red hair, a head that would be above the crowd. When he couldn’t find it, he turned back to his mother for a final wave and ducked through the doorway into the airliner.

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All Fools Down, a Novel – Excerpt

It wasn’t that difficult to get away with it when you knew what you were doing.
Most of the time he started by making sure there was absolutely no connection between him and the object of his affections. Tonight was no exception. Who would ever put it together? First he parked his motorcycle in another parking lot a few blocks from the bus stop. Then he reached the busy shopping center by taking the bus, getting off before the bus arrived at the shopping center, and walking the rest of the way, turning and stopping frequently to check whether anyone was following. The shopping center parking lot was big, crowded, and dark. He would convince her to drive her car to a third parking lot a few blocks from where he had parked his motorcycle. Everything was in place.
Changing his appearance was the hardest part. Or maybe it was making sure he didn’t stand out, didn’t do or say anything to anyone who might remember him, didn’t dress or otherwise present himself in a memorable way.