The Cerebral Catalyst

That was the motto of Falcon Electronics, emblazoned on the massive factory in the heart of Astoria, Queens. Twelve-year-old Grace Izzo stood facing this factory from across the bustling four lanes that made up 21st Street, gathering up small stones... tossing them into the canvas bag she had hanging on her shoulder. From the sounds of her breathing and gasping, it was clear that Grace had been crying for quite some time.

With obvious agility, Grace climbed the fence that surrounded the overgrown backyard of the hardware store across the street from Falcon (as it was known). As she scaled higher and higher, she could see more and more of the large building across the street — until she was nearly as high as the ten-foot-tall letters that read: FALCON ELECTRONICS: WHERE PERFECTION IS NOT AN ACCIDENT.

Grace set up on the hardware store roof, dropping her canvas bag onto the black tar. She reached into the bag, grabbed a stone, kissed it, and then hurled it at the building. The power and accuracy of her arm was astonishing as the stone crashed through a window — sending workers scrambling and passers-by ducking for cover on the street.

DANIEL (Grace's older brother): "My little sister Grace has the best throwing arm I've ever seen."

Grace stuck her tiny, strong hand into the bag again, thought better of it, and instead emptied her stash of rocks near her feet. Grace was pretty in a tomboy sort of way... but her watery green eyes displayed a jaded frustration that defied her age. She was wearing ripped jeans and a plain black T-shirt, brown hair hanging to her shoulder, and her face streaked with tears.

DANIEL: "Our grandfather worked for Falcon Electronics. Almost 45 years. Grace idolized him."

With a grunt, Grace launched another rock toward Falcon. The sound of glass breaking informed anyone within a one-block radius she had once again found her mark.

DANIEL: "Grandpa got asbestos poisoning but the company found a loophole and didn't pay for his health care. He lost everything he owned and now Grandma lives with us."

Grace intensified the number of stones she was throwing, her arm growing stronger as she did. The sound of sirens melded with the breaking glass.

DANIEL: "Grandpa always called himself a union man and told us stories about Eugene Debs and Emma Goldman and what he called the true spirit of American freedom. I loved him, too, but it was Grace he adored. She had the same rebellious spirit as him. Two of a kind, my Mom called them."

Grace saw the NYPD cruisers screeching up the curb below her and sneered as she aimed her rocks at them. The first cop to step out of his car had a rock whizz by his head and strike the cruiser with a resounding thunk. The dent left behind was deep and the cop dove behind the car for protection.

DANIEL: "The day after Grandpa's funeral, Grace took out her anger on Falcon Electric — and the cops that tried to protect it."

Crying harder and harder, Grace alternated between breaking Falcon's windows and denting police cars. She did not hear the cops climbing the roof behind her until one of them yelled: "Freeze!"

Grace spun around, defiant. The cops, guns pointed, were stunned to see a young girl. Grace looked down and saw one last rock at her feet. She reached for it and pegged one of the cops in his ample gut. He grunted in pain.

"You should be arresting the men who run that company," Grace screamed through her tears, "not me."

Ten minutes later, a police car pulled up in front of the five-story apartment building the Izzo family called home. Standing on the sidewalk were members of Grace's family: Barb, her mother, Grandma Deana (dressed in black) in a wheelchair, and older brother Daniel (14). Barb appeared nervous. Daniel wore a smirk. Grandma looked proud.

Out stepped the two cops with Grace. She was not in handcuffs but she would not let them touch her.

"Your daughter has quite an arm on her," the first cop said to Barb, rubbing his stomach for emphasis.

The crowd beginning to gather across the street couldn't hear the ensuing conversation between Barb and the cops but they could see Daniel holding Grace behind their mother. After no more than three minutes, Grace, Daniel, and Barb entered the building.

DANIEL: "Falcon didn't press charges on Grace. It would have been too embarrassing to have the whole story about Grandpa get out."

Grandma Deana waved to the cop holding his stomach. He leaned down to hear her. "I just want you to know that I'm not happy my granddaughter hit you in the stomach with that rock," she said.

"Thank you, ma'am, I—"

"She should've hit you in the goddamned head, you son of a bitch."

The smirking cops got back into their car and burned rubber.

Tears welled in Grandma's eyes. "They killed my husband. Doesn't that mean anything?"

______________________________________
Mickey Z. can be found on the Web at mickeyz.net.

posted 08.13.07.

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