Troy Burroghs: The Omaha Spy

The Omaha Spy—1967

I know—, Omaha isn’t the biggest city in the world but I liked it (until they through me out, kind of); and yes I was really there. I especially liked its museum with all the Indian artifacts, and a girl named Piggy, yaw: let’s get to the story. I was a young man back then, just turned 19-1/2 years old. I was working for Military Intelligence, which worked with the FBI, whom didn’t want to work with the local police. One afternoon in fall season, some of my friends, black friends that is, were taking me to a party and a car pulled up, full of black folks. This wasn’t the best moment in my life, I got a little scared. I was the only white person in the immediate vicinity. They exchanged a few negative words, and went on their way. But I noticed a woman in the other car, they called her Piggy, she was the second white person, now that I think of it; long blond hair, thin, big breasted, about five foot five inches tall. Long legs my friend, very long legs.

As I was saying they took off, and George told me he had to let me off, right there, in the middle of nowhere land. And so I got out of the car, and he raced off. I found myself walking for miles, and miles, and then I found myself by a row of old looking houses. And there was Piggy getting into her small MG Sports car. She smiled at me and waved,

“Hi Troy!” she knew my name, but how I don’t know, but she went on to say, “everyone talks about you Troy, the only white man in an all black car. You live dangerously.” Not sure if that was a question or a statement, or a statement-question, but now that I look back at it, well, I’d have to say, back then, in l967, it was a show of strength to do such daring deeds as that, and so I played it down and asked:

“How about a ride home, Piggy?“

She told me to jump in the car and that was that, I did jump into her car and we took off. We got talking about what she knew about me and what about herself. She mentioned she knew I had some property in the area and was successful in the real estate business; that I had attended college, and was working for some private organization but didn’t know its name. She said I was a lot like her boyfriend, Tony. I heard of Tony, he was one of the crooks stilling cars in the area, and selling either the cars or the parts he’d take off of them. She said she wanted to go to college someday like Tony and I; to open up a little dress store, or something along that order. To get married, have a few kids: a white or black picket fence: whatever floats the boat.

The Apartment

As we talked we seemed to bond. She was 18-years old, not a big difference in ages I thought. She pulled the car over to one side of the seven story building she lived in, and started to kiss me. I think I was a good listener. She asked me if I was married, and I said no. I told her the truth. I was divorced, had been married for fifteen-months, that an old girlfriend taught me how to well—for hours. Her eyes brows went up, up and higher then her forehead it seemed,

“No way!” she said in amazement.

I said, “How do you know, I‘m the man who lives dangerous so you said!”

Smiling at me she kissed me and then took me up to her room. Curtains on the window you could see through, like a nightgown, and I guess that was it, not much more in the apartment, the kitchen was and I guess I didn’t care a ting on the dirty side.

Piggy sat down on the mattress of the bed, with me and we made love. I thought does she thing I’m going to be her big lollypop, you know, sugar daddy, pay for the big car payment, she was starting to think of me as her lollypop, I now it, I could see it in her eyes. So I sat straight up. She was starting to work on me though and I was starting to like it, and fall in love with her I think. Then for some odd reason I was thinking too much, two hour went by and she fell to sleep. It could do it I told myself, but why try to prove anything. I was tired and would try a little later on I told myself.

The Door

At that moment we heard a knock at the door, Piggy looked at me, wakeup, and looked up, a little concerned too, and told me she’d answer it, and got up.

As the door opened and Piggy stepped outside of it, I heard her talking to someone for a moment. The voice sounded like someone I knew, she came back walking in with a tall white man following her, while another one stood by the door. I was putting on my cloths, I mean my shoes, that’s as far as I got. It was Henry, the tall legged man who worked with the FBI. Actually he had just started working for them and didn’t know the ropes all that well. He looked at me, and then looked at her. She went back to the doorway and told Henry to beat it, that he had nothing on her, and she was with her boyfriend, ME.

At that Me-moment, I walked up to Henry, said,

”Funny seeing you here.” He wasn’t laughing and replied,

“Yaw.” A man of few words, then Piggy looked at us dumbfounded.

I pulled him over to the other side of the door, told him to hold Piggy, she was involved with one of the men who was steeling cars and selling them in the area. Piggy had thought Tony was a good guy, I knew different. He had told her he was one of them college bound kids, with daddy’s bucks, and working at the grocery store. I guess that impressed her. He was really a wise guy, thug if you will.

Henry told his friend to hold and book Piggy on being an accomplice in a string of crimes; or if anything conspiracy charges would hold her until they could make something up to put her away for a long spell—it takes time you know to figure such things out. Piggy looked at me and said with a hatful grin,

“You don’t know the trouble you’re in my short legged friend.” Henry looked at me, a little worried now, “She could be right Troy,” he said.

“Take her down Henry.” I answered. “Let’s get on with the show.”

In Jail

Well, the hoods came by a few times looking for me, but I moved to a different location, St Paul, Minnesota to be exact. But I did go visit Piggy once more, while she was in hold for pre trial, meaning she was being held until her court date at a halfway house. I heard she got one year in prison, three years probation. I guess that isn’t so bad, her boyfriend got three years in prison, and one year probation. I went down to see her you know, to face her and you know, say what a man’s got to say, that kind of stuff.

She came out to see me; I was in the guest lounge, one that kind of looks more like a cafeteria. She sat down and shook her head saying:

“I really liked you, I loved you.”

I told her as sweet as a man can,

“And I loved you that is why I did what I did,”adding“you know Piggy, love isn’t having log legs and knowing how to use them all the time. Sometimes it’s…and listening.”

I got up and walked away like the Lone Ranger used to do. I guess he’s out of date now. Maybe more likened to the X-Files. The mystery was solved. The ugliness was destroyed. And like it or not, she knew her boyfriend was a bum; if she went back to him she was crazy. And many do. And many don’t. And I guess I was also, a little sad. Anyways I walked out of those doors never to look back. Thinking about them long, long, legs.