Chapter3
Christmas Story… aBomb
Saturday, 7:40 pm, December 10. Bundled up holiday shoppers were walking along quickly, talking cheerfully, and trying to stay warm in downtown Montreal. Among them, hoping to make headway on her Christmas shopping list while struggling with her next article, Lauren moved briskly through the entrance to Le Centre Eaton de Montreal, a popular shopping mall just a few blocks from McGill’scampus.
Lauren loosened her coat to accept the warm embrace of the cheerful lights, friendly and enticing decorations, wonderful wafting aromas of gingerbread, Christmas trees, hot chocolate and cinnamon rolls, and overall good cheer from the mall’s courtyard. She moved slowly down the mall toward the center court looking carefully at each store along the way searching for a perfect gift for herfather.
Exiting a men’s store, finding a few maybe’s but nothing certain, Lauren decided to take a break and watch the kids at the Santa Claus house a short walk down the mall’s main concourse to herleft.
To her right a young man 5’8”, weighing no more than 125 pounds, with black hair and large dark brown eyes, was walking rapidly. He looked at the clocks on the wall and compared them with the time on his watch, within 45 seconds of each other. He had until 8:12 to be near where Santa Claus was listening to Christmas wishes from the children. Santa was just beyond the men’s store he was about topass.
Perfect, I’ll just make it on time, thought the youngman.
Lauren exited the store just as the young man checked his watch. 8:10 pm. Later, police reports from onlookers said that Lauren looked like a tight end taking a pass in a crossing route head on into a linebacker. Boom! Her purse flew up in the air, then crashed on the ground, scattering its contents allaround.
The anxious young man rolled off the collision quickly and attempted to get back to his feet. “Ow!” he reached for his fracturedkneecap.
Not so quickly, Lauren struggled onto her feet, staggering a bit to regain her balance. She watched the boy roll to his back, squeezing his leg and moaning in pain. Looking at Lauren and in broken English with an unmistakably foreign accent he cried: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Myknee.”
Leaning down over the young man, Lauren tried to comfort him, saying, “It’s OK, I’m nothurt.”
He pulled away in pain and attempted to stand with his weight on his good leg. Lauren reached an arm around him to help himstand.
“You’re really hurt, let’s get you to an infirmary and have someone get you some ice rightaway.”
Several people close by gathered to observe and assist. “No, no, I’m OK. I don’t need any help. I must go,” heinsisted.
With tears streaking down his face, he quickly pulled away from Lauren and began a desperate run, hobbling down the mall as fast as he could go. Bystanders looked around in dismay. Several caught Lauren’s eye. She just shrugged, picked up her purse and sundry things from the floor, turned to the right and headed back to her car.I’ll check on Santa anothertime.
8:12 pm. A single voice of a young man somehow discernible above the happy sounds of Christmas shopping, shouted “Allahu Akbar, AllahuAkbar.”
An explosion erupted right next to Santa Claus, his elves, and several children. The shock from the blast threw Lauren to the floor some 70 feet away. This time she rose more slowly. And now instead of pleasant holiday aromas the rank odor of gun powder and phosphorus stung her nose; and strangely, while her ears rang there was no sound. Despite being dazed, she attempted to take in what washappening.
She looked toward the source of the explosion. People were running in all directions, their mouths were moving, shouting, and screaming, but Lauren heardnothing.
Laure