Chapter 33 An Interesting Offer
Rebecca had had a busy morning, she had got up at five a.m. to edit a piece she was writing for the Evangeline Today.com online news service, by seven a.m. she was happy with it and had e-mailed it off to the editor. It was a piece about the local cuisine and had a focus on true Cajun dishes. To that end she had visited some of the small villages and single homesteads in and around Lake Cavelier and its surrounding swamplands and that included Malase.
On an extremely hot and humid afternoon some weeks back she had spent a very interesting four hours chatting away with Achile, Francine, Odeo and Francine Bergeron, Papite, Madeline and Armintine Vallier and Jean, Therese, Juste, Dee, and Mattie Leblanc in Malase. They had all described a myriad of different dishes, made up with gator, squirrel, turtle, muskrat, raccoon, deer, pig, crawfish, ducks, turkeys, frogs, hot sausage, chicken, and a large assortment of fish which includedLargemouth Bass, Small Mouthed Bass, Bluegill, White and Black Crappie, White and Stripped Bass, Blue Catfish, Bream, Walleye Pike, and a fish called the snapping Choupique or ”Bowfin.”
Each person that she spoke to had a different way of preparing their food and this differed whether they were on the hunt, at home with the family or if they were cooking a special meal for invited guests and friends. Rebecca was surprised at the assortment of ways to cook all of these meats, poultry, fish and the vegetables, primarily bell peppers, onion, spinach, artichoke, tomatoes, potatoes, peas and celery that accompanied them. Some were roasted, some smoked, some grilled, some broiled, some fried, some cooked on sticks over an open fire, and some boiled then smoked and some tossed together and cooked as a stew. It was also a surprise to her that the range of spices and seasonings that they used was so extensive; it was far from what was perceived as ‘Cajun food’. She was also impressed that all of the men folk were just as competent in describing the preparation and cooking of all the various foods as were the women of the families she spoke to.
Her four hours spent in Malase was the most fruitful of her forays into the swamplands and she left Malase with a warm glow, these people had been so warm and welcoming, funny and interesting, they had argued in a good mannered nature amongst themselves about the intricacies of how to prepare frogs legs, stuff a duck with spinach and bog beans, cook rice to perfection, thicken Gumbo with filé (powdered sassafras leaves) or flavor bass or bream with Chanterelle, a fungi that in late summer would become abundant in the drier parts of the surrounding country.
On arrival home she thought to herself that she would ask them if she could do another article based on their lives living in the swamps, not just focusing on their food, but on them as people, their history, their culture and how they lived their lives in the twenty first century.
All of these thoughts had been whirring around in her head between e-mailing off her finished copy and starting work at eight am that same morning at Claudine’s Kitchen in Spicebridge. For some unexpected reason the diner was absolutely packed for breakfast that morning with all of her regulars and more. She had been run off of her feet since stepping through the door, but her tips had been extremely good. The rush had died down a little late morning before increasing again just past noon when again they were so busy there was not a table or stool spare. It was two forty five p.m. before she could really catch her breath and have a break, so as soon as it was possible she had tomato omelet and salad prepared for her in the kitchen then poured herself a long tall chocolate shake. She took her lunch over to the front of the diner were she sat at a window seat to eat. Halfway through her omelet her cell announced a text had arrived in her inbox. She clicked view and read its contents, it was from the Evangeline.com editor’s office, it simply read, ‘Rebecca fantastic, I’ve made a few calls will be syndicated statewide and published in a few newspapers, Good Job! Dan’.
She let out a squeal of delight that made a few customers turn and stare but she was oblivious to this. After returning her cell to her apron pocket she finished her omelet before starting on her shake. As she was sucking away on the straw that plunged the depths of her dark cooling shake her mind went over the text message time and time again, she gazed out the window at the hot street outside and daydreamed of being a real, fully employed journalist. A friendly face loomed into her peripheral vision, it wore a wide grin and sparkling white teeth shone out from behind a full beard.
“Hi Rebecca.”
The beard said,
“May I join you?”
It continued, as the owner of the beard gestured towards the bench opposite to her. Rebecca turned slightly to focus properly.
“Hi Jerome.”
She said excitedly as soon as she recognized him, which took no more than a millisecond, she leaped up and flung her arms around the bear of a man.
“Yes please do, grab a seat….. I’m just on my break.”
She said as she released Jerome from her grip and sat back in her seat.
“Thanks.”
He said as he sat down opposite her.
“It’s been mad in here this morning… I’ve just had my first break, they’ve given me a whole hour, so we’ve got a good fifty minutes of catching up to do…..”
She beamed as she took another suck on her shake.
“Great.”
Jerome replied as he picked up a menu and scanned down through its contents. He had started early that morning, ten miles north of Ville Platte and he had finished his twelve day corn harvesting contract one and a half days early. The farm owner Sidel Totin knew Jerome well and let him go early, paying him in full for the whole twelve days. Having a little time on his hands and feeling famished, Jerome had decided to drive over to Spicebridge, have a good meal and catch up with his friend Rebecca. Before Jerome had finished reading the menu a young waiter arrived at his side, pad and pen at the ready. Jerome finished looking at the menu and looked up, smiling at Rebecca.
“I’ve got one mighty large hunger going on today, so here goes.”
He said turning to give the young waiter his order.
“I’ll have a hot sausage an onion Po’boy,two twelve ounce blackened gator steaks,…grilled please, corn maque choux, Jambalaya with fries and a side order of dirty rice and coleslaw , a large Coke, vanilla shake and a six pack of Delaware punch bottles to go,…. That should do.”
He said as he placed the menu back in its wooden holder to his left. The waiter thanked Jerome for his order and turned to go.
“Hey, excuse me…. but can I have the po’boy and Coke straight away, my guts are sure rumbling.”
He politely called after the waiter.
“Of course sir ….coming right up.”
The departing waiter replied.
Jerome turned back to face Rebecca.
“So whassub? “
He asked.
Rebecca put down her shake and studied Jerome’s face, his eyes were still reddened around the upper and lower lids as were his nostrils, but an improvement on a week or so ago when he had last popped in to eat and have a chat.
“No Jerome, I’ll tell you all my news and gossip in a minute but more importantly how are you?” She asked with a concerned frown creasing her brow.
“Much better thanks, I should finish my eye and nose drops next week and the doc says the reddening and inflammation should be gone by then.”
“Oh that’s great news, how about you’re breathing? Getting any better?”
“Yeah lots, it doesn’t hurt ad all now when I take a deep breath an I haven’t been breathless for two weeks now……… The doc said I was lucky with my airways an lungs as their tissues are very delicate, especially the alveoli an surrounding capillaries….. Did you know that the alveoli which is where the oxygen goes in an the carbon dioxide comes out would be the size of a tennis court if laid out flat?…… Can you believe that?”
“The body sure is a wonderful natural machine ……., all those billions of cells making up organs that do different things…. All working away, tightly packed beneath this skin of ours,…. yes I can believe it but it’s still amazing.”
“Theonly long term effect unfortunately seems to be that the damage has caused me to develop allergies to airborne particles and it seems that hay fever is something that I will now have to live with for the rest of my life……, can you believe it?….. A farming contractor with hay fever….., so it’s tablets for me from now on……, at least most farm vehicles have good air-con these days !.”
Jerome said trying to laugh it off.
Rebecca was so pleased to see the improvement in Jerome’s face and hear that his overall health was improving rapidly but saddened by the long term effects of his newly gained hay fever. The waiter arrived with Jerome’s po’boy and Coke and put it on the table in front of him.
“Any thing else at the moment sir?”
The waiter asked as Jerome picked up the po’boy ready to take his first bite.
“No thank you, all’s fine for now.”
He replied before his teeth crunched through the crust of the freshly baked sub.
Jerome munched away hungrily at his hot spicy po’boy while Rebecca finished off her shake, they sat in silence for a minute or so enjoying their food before Rebecca spoke again.
“Jerome, I’ve got a question to ask you and I hope you don’t mind…, but I was wondering what did you do with the information I gave you about that Meeks man…., you haven’t mentioned anything about it or him…., I just wondered what you were going to do.”
Jerome put down the remains of his po’boy and had a quick drink of his Coke before he replied.
“Well I was going to go and well an truly whip his ass ad first, then as the days went by I was in two minds….., now with this allergy stuff an the hay fever my mind is movin back to a good ass whipping.”
Rebecca was just about to speak again when the waiter arrived with Jerome’s main order, he placed it down on the table, cleared away the empty shake, a plate and an empty glass, took an order for two more large Coke’s and left them in peace.
“That’s enough about me anyhow, what’s my young Rebecca been up to lately?”
Jerome asked as he tucked into his steaming meal.
“Well work has been busy for the last few weeks here and over at Rooster Browns but I prefer working here, its close to home and its more of a local joint, you know you get to know people, the tips have been fantastic as well. “
“And your writing?”
Jerome enquired through a mouthful of blackened gator steak.
“Oh great.”
She replied excitedly. While Jerome ate his meal Rebecca told Jerome all about here Cajun food article, how she had done her research around the swamplands of Lake Cavelier and the interesting and welcoming people she met in Malase. Jerome told her that he knewJean snr, Jean jnr and Juste Leblanc and Hector and Jerome Vallier and agreed that they were all good people but he told her that Jean jnr and Juste Leblanc had a bit of a reputation. Rebecca then told Jerome that she had finished editing her article that morning and sent it in to the editor of EvangelineToday.com and that only just before Jerome had arrived she had received a text from the editor saying that her article was going to be syndicated state wide and published in a few newspapers. Rebecca could not contain herself anymore, her face lit up with a huge smile, her eyes sparkled and she danced around in her seat clapping her hands together in excitement. Jerome was overjoyed for her, he pushed his half eaten meal aside and leaned forward and gave her a big kiss on both cheeks.
“Well done Rebecca, I’m so pleased for you…. Will you e-mail me what paper it will be in an when it will be published an I will go out an buy one as a keeps sake,…… you know for when you are a famous national journalist getting Pulitzer prizes and all those things….. You’ll be the female Bob Marshal.”
Rebecca blushed slightly, not from the kisses, she liked those, but from Jerome’s obvious happiness at her first real journalistic achievement and his confidence in her.
Jerome resumed eating his meal and chatting with Rebecca about all and everything, they were only interrupted by the arrival of the two Coke’s but apart from that they chatted and laughed for a good forty minutes solid.
Rebecca glanced over at the clock on the wall by the till, her break was up and it was time to get ready for her last hour fifteen of work.
‘Dam.., I was enjoying chatting with Jerome, anyway work to do’, she thought to herself, she apologized to Jerome and stood up to return to work. Jerome stood with her and took her right hand in his, raised it up to his face and gently kissed it.
“Great to catch up Rebecca, don’t forget, e-mail me the newspaper details.”
This did make Rebecca blush, she grinned at Jerome and when he let go of her hand almost floated away from their table across the diner toward the kitchen.
Jerome followed her across the diner, before turning left to float into the kitchen Rebecca turned and flung her arms around Jerome’s muscular neck and gave him big kiss on the lips.
“Thanks Jerome and please take care.”
She said as she released the somewhat startled Jerome. He smiled and turned away, walked over to the till and paid for his meal and gave a good tip then walked out of the cool of the diner into the late afternoon heat with the biggest grin spread wide across his face.
‘Did that really just happen’, he thought to himself as he walked along the sidewalk back to his truck. He reversed out of the shade into the street and drove back past Claudine’s Diner, he glanced over as he passed and standing on the steps was Rebecca, she waved, blew him a kiss then turned and went back into the diner.
‘Well I’ll be darned’, he thought as he turned left at the end of the street and headed for home.
Rebecca had just applied a little light make up in the restroom, washed her hands and returned to wait on the tables out front in the diner when a familiar face walked in. It was an elegant and always well turned out lady who had a kind, happy face and always had time to chat with Rebecca and show an interest in her and her studies. She smiled at Rebecca then turned and walked the length of the diner taking up a window seat at the far end. Rebecca waited a moment while she sat down and made herself comfortable before going over with her pad and pen at the ready.
“Hi, what would you like this afternoon mam.”
Rebecca said in a cheery voice.
The lady looked up and smiled,
“ I would like a large coffee and a double choc doughnut please.”
She replied before continuing.
“And do you have a few moments to spare?.. I would like to talk to you about something.”
Rebecca was a little surprised, she looked around the diner which was quiet for the moment.
“Urm,… yes it’s been busy all day but it’s quiet now, I’m sure I can spare a few minutes.”
“Your boss will be ok with that I hope, I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.”
The lady enquired.
“Oh no it should be ok but I’ll check to make sure.”
Rebecca said before turning to go and fetch a large coffee and double choc doughnut.
Rebecca returned in no time with the order and placed the coffee and double choc doughnut on the table.
“My Boss said it’s fine, but if we get busy, I’ll have to go and serve.”
“Of course my dear, of course, now please take a seat.”
The lady said as she gestured to the other side of the table.
Rebecca sat down and studied the lady as she sipped her coffee.
‘What on earth could she want?, she had become a frequent customer and they always had interesting conversations and she enjoyed talking with her,…. But they were normally customer and waitress type conversations,… not a formal invitation to sit with her’, Rebecca thought.
Putting down her coffee the lady reached over to her side and picked up her handbag, she opened it and pulled our a large grey folder and placed it on the table, she then closed her handbag with a snap and replaced it on the seat next to her.
She looked up at the expectant Rebecca.
“Now my dear first things first, I have never caught your name before, you are?”
She asked holding out her right hand.
“I’m Rebecca.”
Rebecca replied as she took the outstretched hand in her own and shook it.
“And you are Rebecca asked?
“My Name is Lottie my dear, but who I am is of no real consequence.”
Rebecca looked extremely puzzled, she released Lottie’s hand and felt a little perplexed. She glanced at the grey folder then back at Lottie, then back at the folder before deciding to take the initiative.
“Umm,… how can I help you or is there something particular you want?”
She asked as Lottie took another sip of her coffee.
“Well Rebecca we can help each other, … you know what they call a win, win situation.”
Rebecca’s brow furrowed into a frown.
“I don’t really understand.”
She said as the Lottie opened up the grey folder and laid it on the table in front of her.
“Well I will explain. I have here, some information that implicates a statewide business, local, state and possibly national political figures and local and statewide public officials in a web of corruption, malpractice and numerous other offenses.”
There was a pause while Lottie took another sip of her coffee and a delicate bite out of her doughnut, time enough for the Rebecca to process the information, then Lottie continued.
“You are a young, hardworking and ambitious woman who is striving to break into the world of journalism, you are studying hard, supporting yourself with untold hours of waitressing and from what you have told me in the past have had some initial successes with some articles published locally, is that about right?”
“Yes, so far it sounds about right.”
“The information that I have here in this folder has been thoroughly investigated, cross referenced and researched to the nth degree. Numerous sources have corroborated its validity and there is also an amount of supporting surveillance evidence in the shape of voice, video and photographic content.”
Lottie paused again.
“I see.”
Rebecca said, her journalistic instincts had been ignited and her curiosity fully roused.
“Please continue.”
She said eager to hear more.
“Now I am looking for an outlet, that being you, to release this to the world….,.what I am going to explain will take a little time so please be patient. The consequences of this information being published are that there will be a local, state and national scandal,…. The media, being the TV networks and the state and national papers will be all over this like bees round a honey pot. The police will get involved as will the FBI and possibly the NSA and CIA. A well renown business will have its reputation shattered and its senior management team and many of its employees, some politicians, public officials and others yet unknown will more than likely be arrested.”
Rebecca’s eyes and mouth were wide open, she was completely astonished to hear what the lady was telling her.
“If and when this information is released, there will be now going back, once it is out there it will run its own course,… do you understand?
Rebecca nodded, eyes and mouth still open wide.
“So the questions I have for you Rebecca are firstly, do you want this journalistic opportunity and secondly will you be able to handle the whirlwind that this scandal will unleash?…. You will no longer be Rebecca the aspiring journalist who lives in small town Louisiana and waitresses to support her studies, you will be under the spotlight for months to come…., but this will start off your career in journalism with one almighty bang…., what do you think?”
Rebecca was speechless for a moment.
“I,… I don’t.. Know,…. I don’t know what to say.”
She stammered.
Her head was spinning, her synapses were firing off all over brain triggering differing thoughts, questions, conclusions and more thoughts all at the same time. Her ambition confidence and drive was telling her to go for it, her analytical mind was trying to weigh up the consequences of her accepting the offer whilst her deep inner brain, the Amygdala had triggered an alarm. This small almond shaped structure, part of the ancient mid brain had released neurotransmitters that were preparing her for what is called fight or flight. Her muscles tightened, her mouth became dry and some of her blood vessels started to constrict. Adrenalin pumped into her body, her pores opened to release sweat, she started to breath a little deeper, taking in more oxygen with each breath and her heart began to race.
“May I go and get a drink.”
Rebecca asked, both out of a sudden need and also as an excuse to have a few moments alone to try and think more clearly.
“Of course my dear please do.”
Rebecca rose from her seat and half ran to the kitchen, she opened a large catering refrigerator door and poured herself a glass full of cold water.
“You ok Bec’s?.”
A concerned voice called across the kitchen to her.
“Yeah thanks Deno, just feel a bit wobbly and needed a drink, .. You know late night early morning and a busy day.”
She replied as she closed the refrigerator door and walked out of the kitchen. Her head was still a jumble of mixed up thoughts, she still wasn’t thinking clearly, she could feel her legs shaking slightly and had the feeling of butterflies in her stomach. Instead of turning right as she left the kitchen and going back into the diner to sit with the mysterious woman Lottie, she turned left and headed for the ladies restroom.
She leaned against the edge of one of the white porcelain sinks sipping her water and thinking.
Back in the diner the Lottie sat quietly eating the remains of her doughnut and finishing her coffee, as a waiter passed she asked for another coffee then returned to watching the world as it passed by down Main Street. She was not expecting an instantaneous response and if she had got that she would have been a little alarmed. Rebecca’s reactions were what she hoped for, for as she knew only too well Rebecca would be sitting quietly somewhere out the back of the diner trying to figure out in her own time how to respond, ‘that was a good sign’, she thought.
Her second coffee arrived and the waiter took away the empty plate and coffee cup, she looked around the diner, all was reasonably quiet, a few customers were dotted here and there but on the whole it was a quiet late afternoon. Five minutes turned into ten then twenty before Rebecca returned to the window table at the end of the diner. As she sat down Lottie looked up and smiled,
“Hello Rebecca, I must say your coffee here is marvelous, tastes like real coffee should.”
Rebecca was a little surprised at this because she knew that she had been hiding away in the ladies restroom for about twenty minutes, but not a mention was made of this at all.
Um , I’m glad you like it,… all our customers like it, we import is especially from some small town high up in the Peruvian mountains I think, Deno my boss travelled a lot in south America when he was younger and will only serve his customers the best.”
There was a silence that lasted thirty seconds or so, Rebecca was expecting Lottie to ask if she had reached a decision, but nothing came, so she spoke first.
“Urrm, I’ve been thinking things through,… you know about your proposition and I have some questions to ask,… is that ok?”
Lottie turned from the window to face Rebecca and smiled.
“Please Rebecca fire away.”
“Well I would like to know what you get out of all of this.”
“That’s simple, I was engaged to investigate a certain business and its associated contacts, I with the help of others have unearthed this web of corrupt dealing and malpractice.”
She replied, lightly tapping her finger on the open folder.
“In the course of my investigations and research with fellow associates we compiled all of this information, it is all fact based and the person who engaged my services has decided that they would like it published now.”
“Right…, urm…, so who engaged you then?”
“That is information that you do not need to know and will not find out because all of my clients details are completely confidential. Just like the complete confidentiality of a journalistic source of information.”
“Oh yes…, of course, I understand.”
Rebecca replied quickly, she was starting to feel a little naive and out of her depth and thought that she needed to explain her professional morals.
“I think it is important that journalists keep their sources of information confidential because without this morality nobody would talk to journalists or become whistle blowers who expose all sorts of wrong doing in industry and government.”
“Exactly.”
Lottie replied.
“Well why me? I mean you must have all sorts of contacts with journalist if this is the kind
Of work that you do…, so why have you chosen me? Little miss nobody.”
“That my dear Rebecca is simple, you are right, I could have contacted one of a dozen renowned state journalists or one of a larger group of national journalist and yes they would have readily accepted by proposition and this little grey file. In a few days the scandal would have broken and then would rumble on for months as it took its course. Whoever I had released this information too would get tremendous media coverage and the adulation of their peers and my work on this assignment would have been a success…, and that would be that.”
She paused, looking straight into Rebecca’s eyes before continuing.
“That would have been the case but I met you here a few months ago,…you are such a bubbly, happy young woman, full of life and drive, You are interesting to talk to and hard working, you are ambitious and I can feel that your heart is a journalists’ heart, you are not a waitress even though you are good at it and I can see you do this just to support yourself and your studies. And I will admit that I enjoy coming in here and having our little chats and I will also admit to you that I am a little jealous of you, your youth, your looks and the fire in your belly, I was once like you, ready to take the world by storm.”
“Oh…, I see.”
Rebecca replied not really knowing how to reply to such personal compliments.
“So when the decision was made very recently by my client and the team they had assembled that the information should be released to the world I thought of you…, that is it, no more no less.”
Rebecca thought for a moment before responding.
“If I were to accept and I was able to get this published will I be able to ask for your advice or support…., its’ just that I can visualise the scandal breaking and me being hounded with no one to turn to for help, advice or support of any kind and to be honest without that lifeline I don’t think its is something I could take on with the confidence to see it through successfully.”
“Now listen my dear Rebecca if you do choose to take this on you will not be able to disclose any of the sources, some are named in the file and of course I am your main source. All hell will break loose and your life will change overnight but I give you my word that I will be there for you, I will support you, give advice and encouragement and if needed a shoulder to cry on but there can be no kind of formal contact, no telephone calls to my registered personal or cell phone lines, e-mails, letters or anything like that. What you can have however is a number to an unregistered cell phone and you can contact me on that, but please, if you do contact me do not use my name ……….., does that sound ok with you?”
Rebecca nodded in agreement before asking.
“Are you a spy or something or work for the government.”
Lottie let out a loud laugh.
“Oh my dear I wish I was something exciting like that…. No I’m just a private investigator, one who has been around and knows a couple of tricks…, oh…, oh really…, I must tell my husband, a government agent, he’ll just love that.”
Rebecca was visibly relieved at Lottie reaction because she was starting to fear that she was getting caught up in some kind of government plot, her imagination conjured up a scenario were she had become a character in a Jason Bourne film being chased by assassins with faceless people hunting her down.
“One final thing Rebecca.”
Lottie said once her laughter had subsided.
“If you accept it needs to be published by the weekend after this one, so that gives you ten days…, I know there is one hell of a lot of work to do to prepare……….., what do you think?”
Rebecca had already made up her mind a couple of minutes ago but the assurances of help and support from Lottie confirmed her decision. She looked at the file once more than back at Lottie and said.
“Yes I will accept and thank you for having the confidence in me; I just hope that I can fulfil your expectations….”
Her voice trailed off and they both sat in silence for a brief moment.
“Of course you will, if I didn’t think you were up to the job I would not have approached you,… so here we go and good luck…, aaah I nearly forgot…., there is one more thing I want to ask of you……., when you have finished your copy and it has been checked, edited and sent of for publishing will you call me to let me know?”
With that Lottie pushed the file across the table.
Rebecca closed the file, and stood to leave the table.
“Off course I will call you.., the moment it is sent off for publishing I will be on the phone to you………, I must dash, I’ve been ages with you Lottie and I don’t really want to annoy Deno my boss, he’s such a considerate guy I don’t want to jerk him around.”
Rebecca thanked Lottie again and with the file held firmly under her arm walked straight out of the diner past the kitchen to the staff room where she locked the file securely away if her locker.
As soon as her shift ended Rebecca retrieved the intriguing file from her locker and drove straight home. She spent the next six hours poring over the file, making notes, underlining key details and researching on-line differing aspects of the file. She researched the people named locating as much information about each person that she could find, where they lived, their jobs, who they worked for and what those organisations did. As she read and did her research the web of connections, deceit and corruption started to become clear to her.
Her first shock came when she first scan read the file’s introduction and summary, she was three quarters of the way down the page when a name leaped out at her, it was Mr. Clive Meeks. She looked again and kept reading to see if it stated his job, and right in front of her eyes where the three words that confirmed to her that it was the same man who had attacked Jerome in such a cruel and cowardly way, it simply said Evangeline Highways Officer.
The second was to discover how much of the file was focused on six individuals from Evangeline, four of which held official positions in local government and the third shock was to find out that one of these six individuals she knew as a regular at Claudine’s Kitchen. It was a Mr Gant, the man in the scruffy, creased crème linen suits who would visit almost every day for a strong coffee and doughnut, he would stride in with his nose in the air, chest pushed forwards and seat himself at the same corner table, almost as if he was ashamed of being seen in there. He was a man that she had taken almost immediate dislike to when she started working at Claudine’s Kitchen. He had an air of superiority and she thought that he viewed himself as someone special. From what she observed he seemed to look down on the waiting staff at the diner, often speaking to them in a demeaning way, not overtly offensive but belittling them with a particular turn of phrase or comment. When any of the staff at the diner spoke to him he would reply with a look of sheer disdain etched across his face and to cap it all he never tipped anyone who served him.
‘What an asshole’, she thought to herself, she looked up at the clock on her wall, it was just gone midnight and suddenly she felt hungry, she yawned and stretched her arms out above her head before standing up from her desk and going in search of some food.
Chapter 34 Bad News
Cuzn Luke arrived home late afternoon, hot sweaty and exhausted. He had just spent the best part of last six days and five nights helping Treacle and Cuzn Booee cook up three batches of shine. He had popped home just twice over the six days to pick up more beers and a bottle of his own shine, some fresh food and water. Treacle and Cuzn Luke had stayed at the still site for the duration, drinking, cooking up and bottling shine, hunting and cooking their skinned and butchered kills over an open fire.
At approximately one hundred twenty gallons of shine per batch they had three hundred and sixty gallons bottled and hidden waiting collection that would net them fifteen thousand dollars. Treacle and Cuzn Booee would make six thousand dollars a piece as it was their still and Cuzn Luke would be paid three thousand dollars for his help.
They had had to move from their original still site before cooking up these three batches because Treacle was sure that someone had found them out. It was just at the break of dawn and he was preparing the site for cooking up the first eight hundred gallons of sour mash. This had been quietly fermenting for three days ready for the first batch of shine to be distilled; as he quietly worked he thought that he heard an unfamiliar sound in the forest. The wildlife had gone silent and all was still. He had stopped what he was doing and listened intently and was sure he had heard a metallic like click, silence, then the sounds of twigs breaking, almost as if he was being stalked by very clumsy hunters. Rooted to the spot he had listened to the sounds of movement in the undergrowth some one hundred yards away. As these sounds started to fade Treacle had followed the sounds for a quarter of a miles through the undergrowth until in the distance he heard an engine start and the sound of some vehicle or other drive off at what sounded like some speed. It could have been a hunter or trapper but if it had been a hunter then surely he would have heard gunshots at some point that morning and if it had been a trapper why the stealth. Once you’ve checked and baited a trap or retrieved a kill you had no need to go creeping around in the forest then speeding off. The only conclusion that he cold come to was that it was agents from the Bureau of Alcohol Tobacco and Firearms. They must have been observing him prepare the still site and gone off ready to return and catch them red handed once the still was up and running and producing its fine shine.
Treacle was really spooked, he fumbled in his jeans for his cell phone and called first Cuzn Booee then Cuzn Luke. Both had said exactly the same and that was that they would get over to the still site immediately and between the three of them they would have to the strike the still. This meant dismantling all of the individual parts, dumping the sour mash, the equipment onto their pickups and relocating as fast as possible. It was not going to be an easy task but they had to get it done and done before the agents from the Bureau of Alcohol Tobacco and Firearms returned and caught them red handed, that is if that is who it was wandering around in the forest. Cuzn Booee arrived within the hour with Cuzn Luke only fifteen minutes behind him. By the time they had both arrived Treacle had dropped the cam netting and rolled it up, and disconnected the two large propane burners from the equally large and heavy gas bottles. He had removed the copper cap from the top of the tub and disconnected the copper piping from the thumper. The thumper is the first pot that the vapour passes through and this is used to remove impurities. Treacle had also disconnected the copper piping from the thumper to the copper worm, this is where the alcohol vapour is condensed into the end product and removed the worm from the cooling barrel. So the still had been struck by the time Treacle’s help arrived, all they had to do now was siphon off the sour mash to empty the sub thenload the components onto their pickup and cover the backs of them up with tarpaulin’s and get the hell out of there. It took two journeys with all three pickups full to overflowing top get all the equipment and the sturdy wooden pallets that they used as a firm foundation for the still relocated
Three and a half hours after Treacle had called Cuzn Booee and Cuzn Luke they were all driving along narrow forest tracks in convoy on their last journey. They travelled like this for about four miles before emerging one at a time onto a local back road where they split up to rendezvous at their new still site some seven miles away.
The new still site was one of only a handful or so or places where they knew of fresh water springs, they had cooked up here many times over the years, so once unloaded it had taken them no time at all to rebuild and seal the still, it did however take some time to fill the cooking tub, so they had sat around drinking beer while the tub filled. Once full Cuzn Luke added the cornmeal he had brought along, they then heated the tub with the assembled propane burners to a rolling boil before allowing it to cool down some. More beers where consumed by the three of them before the contents of the tub were cool enough for them to add the sugar and yeast. They figured that they would wait thirty six hours for the sour mash to ferment, the minimum before it could be distilled into shine. During these thirty six hours they drank more beers and shine that Cuzn Booee had brought along, slept, hunted for squirrel and racoon and cooked up a fine stew with vegetables that Treacle had brought along. Cuzn Luke had provided the spices and some rice and Cuzn Booee had provided a large iron cooking pot, three metal plates and three forks to eat with. They all had their own individual hunting knives to use to skin and butcher whatever they shot, Cuzn Luke’s being the fiercest looking knife. Not a standard haunting knife but a throwing knife that he could use with deadly accuracy over the distance of fifteen yards or more, and one that had killed many since its first use in 1967.
The first thing Cuzn Luke did on returning home was to grab a six pack of cold beers from his refrigerator and go and sit in the shade of his front porch. He sat quietly drinking for an hour or so before getting to his feet and going back into his home. He was hungry and apart from a couple of eggs in the refrigerator and a stale loaf of bread on the side he had no food to eat. He decided he would have a quick wash and tidy himself up somewhat before driving into town to get a carry out. As he was walking through into the back where he had basic washing facilities that consisted of a tin bath and a faucet in the corner of the room above an old battered tin basin, he noticed the message light flashing on his telephone that lay on the floor next to his favourite armchair.
He walked over slumped down into the chair’s comfortable but stained and torn upholstery and reached for the phone. He picked it up, pressed the message button and waited while the old tape rewound for him to listen to.
“Hey Luke….”
Cuzn Luke recognised the voice instantly before it named itself on the tape
“It’s Bootsie callin, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news for you, I’ll come straight to the point…..It’s Toup your lawyer, he’s been screwing you over your oil lease contracts for years call me, speak soon.”
Cuzn Luke flopped backwards in his chair staring at the phone which he held in his left hand. He pressed the rewind button, then play and listened to the message for a second time.
As the words of his friend sank in, his mind was engulfed in a wave of anger and rage that ripped through his conscious thoughts and erupted in an explosion of hatred. He flung his phone to the floor and went absolutely ballistic, kicking anything that came within range. His face was contorted in an ugly snarling growl as he cussed and dammed Toup from within what looked like a tornado of cussing anger and destruction. He stormed out onto his porch, fists clenched still cussing as he went, he looked both ways up and down the track outside his home for someone to shout at or vent his anger on, but luckily for them no one was passing.
As his conscious brain fought for supremacy over his explosive rage, a rational thought crossed his mind.
‘What was he to do?… He must call Bootsie right away,…..how much had Toup conned him out of?….., how long had it been going on….., how did Bootise find out’. All of these thought tumbled around inside his head as he tried to come to terms with the bad news that Bootise had just delivered.
He collapsed down in a heap on the first step of his porch and leant back against one of the old timber uprights that supported the roof. He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his cell phone, selected Bootsie’s number and pressed call. The phone rang twice before being answered by a polite female voice who asked.
“Good afternoon Mr.Samuel Balanger’s office how can I help you today?”
“Good day miss, can you put me through to Mr. Balanger please?”
Luke replied in his best telephone voice.
“Oh I am sorry sir but Mr. Balanger is currently busy and has asked not to be disturbed this afternoon, you can leave a message and I will ensure that he gets it before he finishes work this afternoon.”
Luke scratched his stubbly chin and thought for a moment.
“Miss, can you tell him it is Luke? Luke Foreman returning his call, he did ask me to call him back immediately.”
“Well I will try his line for you sir but if he says that he does not want to be disturbed then you will have to leave a message…. ,one moment please.”
Luke was put on hold while Bootsie’s personal assistant rang through to his office, the phone on his desk rang once before it was picked up and Mr. Balanger answered.
“Yes”
“Sorry to disturb you Mr. Balanger but there is a Mr. Luke Foreman on the line and he says you called him asking him to call him immediately.”
“Ah yes, please put him straight through.., and thank you Donna.”
Luke heard a click then Bootsie’s familiar voice.
“Luke how’s it goin? I left the message a couple of days ago.”
“Things was goin along jus fine, I’d been out in the country for a few days or more seeing to bus-iness…., you knows, they Auh gets yourne message an all hell breaks loose in muh head, what’s up Bootsie? What’s Toup been up to?”
“He’s screwed you Luke, good an proper for years over your oil lease contracts, seems like he re-negotiated on your behalf and has been skimming a large amount off for himself.”
“How much Bootsie?”
Luke asked as the blood drained from his face.
“Millions Luke, millions, I’ve got a whole file on it here with me now, I’ll get it driven over to you tonight, you gonna be at home Luke?
The line went silent as Luke started off into the distance not believing what he was hearing.
“Are you messin with me Bootsie?”
Luke asked hoping to hear Bootsie’s deep belly laugh but none came.
“Sorry my friend but its all true, I’ll arrange to get the file over to you tonight…, you ok?”
“Yeah I’m ok, just a bit shell shocked, thanks Bootsie I’ll wait for that file you got an think some aboud what tuh do.”
“Nothing stupid Luke, we’ll sort things out, now take care my friend.., we’ll speak soon.”
“Yeah Bootsie speak soon.”
Cuzn Luke pressed end on his cell phone and put it back in his jeans pocket. He sat is silence staring at the large orange sun as it started to dip below the trees across the fields.
Bootsie replaced the receiver of his phone and pressed the call button for Donna, the soft female voice answered, Bootsie asked her to photo copy a file and arrange to have the photo copy delivered to a certain Mr. Luke Foreman, he gave her the address and asked her to arrange for it to be delivered in person that evening.
“I’ll get Carlos to deliver it in person as you ask, is there anything else sir?”
She enquired.
“No that’s all for now.., thanks Donna.”
Bootsie sat back in his chair wondering how Luke would respond and hoping he would not do anything rash. He picked up a pen from his desk and scribbled a quick note to Luke unlocked his central desk drawer and retrieved a large box file with the word Akendo printed on the front; he opened it and looked through its contents until he found the required file. He took it out and placed it on his desk then returned the box file to the drawer and locked it again. He opened the file and attached his note with a paper clip to the first page of the file then closed the file waiting for it to be collected.
A knock on his office door announced the arrival of Donna, he called her in, handed over the file and asked her to copy its contents immediately and get the original returned to him as soon as that was done. He then asked when Carlos would be available to deliver the file and was pleased to hear that he would be on his way up to Bootisie’s office suite in ten minutes to collect the file and that he would text Bootsie when the delivery had been made.
Within five minutes Donna returned the original file to Bootsie and left him in piece. Bootsie sat in silence for a good ten minutes after she had left thinking about Luke, he was distracted from finishing his afternoon’s work so he leaned forward and turned off his computer. He then tidied his desk and locked away some documents that he had been working on in a secure filing cabinet behind his desk and headed for home. As he was approaching Donnas’ office Carlos emerged with a file in his hand.
“That’s for Mr. Foreman’s eyes only Carlos, make sure he gets it this evening and thank you, ……..you’ll be late home tonight, …..Carlos, don’t be surprised if Mr. Foreman keeps you up all night drinking, will you be alright with that? You can take tomorrow off.”
“That’s not a problem sir, if the man wants a drink I’ll drink with him and if it comes to that I will take the next day off as you have offered.”
Carlos replied with a smile.
Bootsie nodded, smiled and thanked Carlos before walking off down the corridor.
Carlos got into his car in the underground car park and read the address he had been given, he then pulled out his state map book and looked for it. He found the area but the exact address wasn’t shown, he’d have to ask when he got close, he placed his map book on the passenger seat with the page opened on Evangeline and set off just as the sun was setting. The air was hot and heavy and a purplish orange glow filled the sky. The traffic downtown was still quite busy for the time of day, it was well past rush hour but there had been highways maintenance works going on in and around the downtown area which had really snarled things up. It was just approaching seven twenty pm as he freed himself from the urban crawl and joined interstate 10 heading west. The traffic on the interstate was light as he expected so he pressed cruise control when he hit sixty five miles per hour, turned the radio on and tuned into WBRH 90.3 FM and the sounds of classical jazz floated out from his speakers.
After about fifty miles he exited interstate 10 onto interstate 49 at Lafayette and headed north. He had become tired of the beeps, hoots, tinkles, honks and horns of the jazz some miles earlier and was now listening to one of his favorite CD’s which was Public Enemy’s ‘It takes a nation of millions to hold us back’, he enjoyed its production and the socially and politically charged lyricism of Chuck D and its energized beats. It was a wild thumping album that screamed out revolution with a scratching, gnarly minimalist electronic sound and sophisticated rhyme that left Carlos in awe. He jigged about in his seat and tapped his steering wheel as the bass thumped out, he sang along with every lyrical twist and turn in perfect sync. Just as he was approaching Opelous as ready to exit onto state highway 190 and head west again he completely switched the musical vibe in his car and put in Carole King’s Tapestry CD to listen to. The mood instantly changed and he was bathed by a soft comforting voice that was interwoven between the calm melodic instrumental notes that drifted across his mid like fluffy white clouds. After another ten miles or so Carlos turned left onto the local highway 103 and headed north again before turning onto the Prairie Rhonde Road, he followed this until he reached the local highway 29 and again headed north. He drove for a couple more miles before pulling off to the side of the highway and checking his map.
He wasn’t that far away now, there was a small town called Lokchapi a mile or so down the highway so he drove on until he reached the small town center where he pulled up outside a bar, The Red Oak; he got out and went inside to ask for directions. The bar was busy with Bluegrass music filling the air from an old juke box that sat to the side of the entrance door. As he walked in heads turned, conversations were suspended and the noise in the bar dropped so that only the intricate fiddle playing coming from the juke box could be heard, the locals watched him walk up to the bar. Carlos reached into his pocket for the piece of paper that had the address he was looking for written on it. The bar tender, a tall olive skinned man with a grisly beard, long shaggy hair and dark piercing eyes welcomed him with a large grin. Carlos looked around the bar; all eyes were still focused on him.
“Good evening suh an how’s can auh be of helb?”
He asked as Carlos handed over the piece of paper with the neatly written address on it.
“Can you direct me to this address please? I’m looking for a Mr. Luke Foreman.”
The bartender took the piece of paper and read it.”
“Ahh Cuzn Luke……….., thas no problem mon ami.”
Just one moment. He went out the back of the bar and called Cuzn Luke on his cell phone. He told Cuzn Luke that a well dressed city type was trying to find him, he told him that he thought it might be the ‘Po Po’, Cuzn Luke thanked Darois for his concern and confirmed that he was expecting him. The bar tender returned to the front of the bar and took a pen from his shirt pocket and drew out a quick sketch map, as he drew he talked Carlos through the directions and when finished handed Carlos back his piece of paper.
Carlos studied it, he was certainly close but he was glad he had stopped to ask because Mr. Foreman’s home was on what the sketch map described as a dirt track, and the house itself was described as a run down shack, he would have missed the dirt track in the dark for certain and if he had found that would probably not have found the shack itself. He looked up and thanked the bar tender. The bar tender nodded and walked off to serve a group on men sitting at the bar to the left of Carlos. As Carlos turned he was still being closely studied by all.
“Un ami de Cuzn Luke.”
The bar tender said in a voice loud enough for everyone inside the bar to hear, with that faces turned away from Carlos, conversations continued from where they had been left and the noise in the bar returned to it’s previous level.
Fifteen minutes later Carlos pulled up outside a small dilapidated shack that sat just back from the track to its right. A man was sitting on the porch illuminated by the yellow light of a hurricane lamp. Carlos picked up the file from his passenger seat, got out of his car, walked around the back of it and climbed the stairs into the light of the hurricane lamp.
“Who’s that?”
Luke called out as Carlos approached.
“Mr. Foreman?”
Carlos enquired.
“Thas me.”
Luke said as he stood up and held out his hand, Carlos grabbed it and shook it firmly.
“Hi Mr. Foreman… , good to meet you, I am Carlos, as you know I have something here from Mr. Balanger.”
He said as he held out the folder. Luke took the folder and placed it down on the low table in front of him
“Auh’s Cuzn Luke, all thad Mr. Foreman formality stuff is nod needed, ….Pleeze do sit yuhsel down.”
Luke said gesturing to the seat beside him on the porch.
Luke sat back into his chair, picked up a bottle and poured two large measures of a clear liquid into two glasses that were waiting on the table in front of both of them.
Carlos sat down in the seat offered and took the glass that Luke held out for him.
“Here’s to the dawg.”
Luke said as he raised his glass and clinked it with the one Carlos held, before emptying its contents in one large gulp.
“The dog.”
Carlos replied before copying Cuzn Luke and emptying his glass. It momentarily took his breath away as it burned all the way down from his throat into his stomach. He let out a sigh and placed the glass back on the table. Cuzn Luke had already picked up his bottle and refilled his own glass, so as soon as Carlos’s glass toughed the table it was filled as well.
“Here’s to swimmin with bowlegged women.”
Luke said before downing the second glass full. A smile spread across Carlos’s face as he repeated.
“Bowlegged women.”
And again copied Cuzn Luke. Again his breath was taken away and again the clear liquid burned its way across his tongue, and all the way down his throat to his stomach. He spluttered a little this time and he could feel his eyes watering slightly.
“Good stuff ain’t it Carlos my man, whad’ya think?”
“Yeahh, its,…… good,……… thanks Cuzn Luke.”
Carlos replied, spluttering slightly as his voice exited his mouth making rasping sounds. Again their glasses were filled by Cuzn Luke and Cuzn Luke fired out another toast.
“Jus a bottle’a shine in the bright sunshine an a fine piece’a ass in the long tall grass.”
Carlos picked up his third glass and managed to repeat
”Ass in the long tall grass.”
Before downing it again in one go. This time however the liquid did not seem to burn so much, it had a mellow warm feel to it, it still took his breath away for a moment or so but at least his eyes didn’t water this time. He placed his glass back down onto the table and was pleased to see that Cuzn Luke only filled each glass with about half an inch in the bottom of each
“We-ell, ho-dickedy -do -dee –do, It’s sippin time now that we has got goin.”
Cuzn Luke said with a huge grin creased across his face.
Carlos sat back in his chair with his glass cradled in his cupped hands, his head swam and he could feel a sweat breaking out on his forehead and across the nape of his neck He blinked a couple of times and shook his head. Cuzn Luke chuckled.
“That showa is mighty fine shine Carlos……… Mighty fine, now let me get these here doc-u-mens put away safely.”
He said as he picked up the file that Carlos had handed him, stood up and walked past a sweating Carlos and into the darkness of his shack. He flipped a switch by the door and a naked overhead bulb lit up the room, he walked across the room to an old wooden cupboard in the corner, opened it and placed the file inside. He then walked out the back to his refrigerator and grabbed a six pack of beers and then returned to join his new companion on the porch.
“Here goes.”
Cuzn Luke said as he passed in front of Carlos and tossed him a can of beer, much to his own surprise Carlos caught the can and as Cuzn Luke was settling himself back into his old stained armchair Carlos opened his can and took a couple of large gulps.
The two of them sat on the porch drinking, talking and laughing into the early hours of the morning. They quickly found some common ground and that was the military. Carlos found that Cuzn Luke and Mr. Balanger had served together in Vietnam and that they were both well decorated combat soldiers. For his part Carlos had served with the third infantry division. As part of task Force 1–64 Armor he was the gunner on the second American A 1 Abrams tank that took part in a raid into the heart of Bagdad called the ‘Thunder Run’. The aim of which had been to test remaining Iraqi defenses in the city, with twenty nine tanks and fourteen Bradley armored fighting vehicles they advancing at speed all the way to Bagdad airport, only encountering light resistance.
Carlos sat in awe as he listened to some of Cuzn Luke’s combat stories of jungle fighting, ambushes and having to live with the ever present danger of accidentally triggering one of an assortment of deadly booby trap devices that the Vietcong set.
In comparison the war that Carlos fought in was a war of overpowering military strength and technology that was deployed by the US and its allies in a conventional manner. Whereas Cuzn Luke fought on almost equal terms against the Vietcong in guerrilla warfare, conditions where the enemy hid and attacked from the shadows then disappeared back into them as soon as they had struck. Carlos considered this a terrifying thought and Cuzn Luke confirmed that they spent every second of every minute of every day of their tours on edge, living on shredded nerves, counting the days until their tour ended. By two a.m. Carlos was sleeping soundly in his chair next to Cuzn Luke, he had managed to keep pace with Cuzn Luke until about one thirty when all of a sudden the level of alcohol in his body reached the point of utter and complete intoxication, sending the world spinning around and around. He had bravely fought the effects of the alcohol for the next twenty minutes before unconsciousness overcame him and he fell into a deep alcohol induced sleep. Cuzn Luke stood up and yawned, he went inside his shack and fetched an old bed cover which he draped over the sleeping Carlos before heading off to his own bed. In the morning he awoke, no worse for wear, got out of bed and went to see how Carlos was. There was nobody there, on his table under an empty bottle of shine was a note which simply said.
“Cuzn Luke it has been my pleasure meeting you and spending the night drinking with you, bad head this morning must return to Baton Rouge, Carlos.”
Cuzn Luke smiled to himself, folded the piece of paper in half and put it in his pocket.
I hope you enjoy your reading. It is available on Kindle and a free copy can be borrowed for download at https://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Blue-Heron-Howard-Moore-ebook/dp/B00KK6BWLK..
Howard Moore
