Toni Petti LIVE

Chapter Twenty Four

I walk downtown. 

I walk the whole way on busy sidewalks with my covid mask tied just below my eyes. It takes me hours and its mid afternoon when I finally arrive in the coffee stain.

Carlyle street is empty, except for three people in a red Jeep Cherokee. They're parked right near where I want to go, and appear to be working as Press. Their vehicle is unmarked, but one guy has camera. Now I recognize them.

It's Skeeter Benzies, the blond-haired host of Rebel Roundup on Rebel News. He looks like Boris Johnson the UK Prime Minister, but with curly hair. I'm not a fan, but I know his face. Now I watch with interest as he paces the sidewalk, practicing lines. The cameraperson sets-up the shot with Rabethgie's Jewelry in the background. I don't subscribe to their YouTube show, but I watch them work like an arsonist might study a house on fire. I've seen their clips and studying their preparations is strangely fascinating. Plus I want to enter that jewelry shop and speak to the owner, and I obviously can't do that while they're here.

I keep my distance and stand well back under the mulberry tree. I eat the sweet fruit that hangs from the branches and purples the ground underfoot. My simple disguise should keep me from being recognized, and so I nibble on the berries and watch them confer over their paper script. They'll soon do their business and leave, I hope. When Skeeter glances in my direction, I turn my face in search of another succulent offering.

"Right at that part, I'm gonna drift left," the cameraman points at his notes and to the section where the words are highlighted yellow.

"I'll pivot and you follow," Skeeter agrees.

"Okay," the camera operator shoulders his rig to get eye-level perspective which is standard practice in TV news gathering. I learned that from Exter two days ago; the home viewer expects eye-level news. I watch the videographer wave his hand to signal his actor to start performing.

"Aaand now, in case viewers are wondering,..." Skeeter Benzies begins. He pivots and the camera follows to reveal the jewelry store in the background. "We finally have an answer. Now Canadians everywhere know when a break and enter robbery becomes an Act of Terror. It's when the alleged perpetrators are found in possession of incendiary apparel!" Peter holds up a black Combat 18 branded facemask. "And whoever said there's no Fashion Police? Seriously this farce tells me we should all be paying more attention to our government's case against Antonia Petti. She's the young lady with wax wings who flew too close to the sun. The subject of yesterday morning's Press Briefing at 51 Division, Antonia Petti, a Youtuber, is alleged to have masterminded the robbery of this business you see behind me. But beyond some security camera footage of her standing across the street, and some hateful facemasks found in her abode, the Crown has barely presented enough evidence to get an arrest warrant let alone a conviction. Yet because a certain police commander from Quebec proclaims it's Terrorism, well then all the rules go out the window. To Hell with your Charter Rights you puny citizens; we're battling Terror here!" Skeeter puts on the Combat 18 facemask and just stares at the lens for two seconds.

"... and cut." The cameraman lowers his rig and becomes the producer. "Skete that was terrific, but you forgot the Black Lives Matter part."

"Oh dangnabit I did too. We can do it again."

"No. We should move on. We'll do the B.L.M. segue down at the statue, or maybe at Queens Park."

"Okay," Skeeter checks his watch. "We are running low on time." He casts eyes in my direction again and I turn away quick, but there's precious few berries left to pick. I sure don't want to be discovered here, and certainly not by these boneheads. I drift back towards the hotdog vendor. I'm being real careful not to let anyone recognize me.