Chapter 12 Clive Meek and The Anderson Langford Corporation
Clive Meek’s day had not been a good day at all, it had started badly and just got worse as it progressed. He had left Cuzn Luke’s the previous night gone midnight after drinking a skinful. His car had weaved its way the eight or so miles to his home without incident, although it was a good thing it was late and the local roads were empty as Clive spent half the time on the wrong side of the road, one hand on the wheel clutching his last can of beer in the other, swigging as he drove. He pulled into his driveway delivering a glancing blow to his trash can that went wheeling away into the night with a clatter as it spread its stinking contents across his neighbours driveway. He lurched to a halt, opened the car door and half fell out, he then staggered and swayed, one step forward, two to the side, two backwards then three forwards in a slow motion zigzag dance until he eventually reached his front door. He finished his beer with a final swig and tossed the can over his head into the darkness. Finally his key entered the keyhole on probably the tenth attempt and the door swung open. Clive lurched through the doorway and fell forward like he had been shot by a sniper, he lay half in his house with his legs on his gravel path that lead to his front door.
There he stayed unmoving, snoring loudly until he was rudely awoken by a shower of cold water cascading over the back of his head and shoulders, waking with a start he looked up to see his wife leaning over him shouting something that was completely incomprehensible to his deeply hung-over brain. Through a blur of pain and confusion he pulled himself to his feet and focused in on his still shouting wife.
In a pause in the shouting, while his wife drew another deep breath ready for the next onslaught he did hear from behind her a small voice say
“Mommy whas up wid daddy, is he drunk again?”
Clive steadied himself before blundering past his wife into their house, he headed straight for the kitchen and holding his head under the faucet turned on the cold water. After its cooling waters had partially cleared the fuzziness from his mind he stood up and held his face in his hands, his head throbbed and his eyes ached as if they had been poked with a white hot poker.
“Where’s the pain killers ad hun?”
He called to his wife, who unbeknown to him was standing by the kitchen door looking on disapprovingly at the disheveled person in front of her. Her arms were crossed, her mouth taught and here eyes were piercing his back with daggers.
“Done youze hun me!”
She shouted.
“Youze is nuttin but a total diz-grace, an Auh mean diz- grace!”
She emphasized.
For the next twenty minutes the house reverberated to the shrieks and screaming torrents of abuse from Mrs. Meek, aimed at Clive’s character, drinking, slovenly behavior and general uselessness. Little Wanda Meek went and hid herself away in her bedroom whilst he mom continued to castigate her dad. Finally with a clean shirt on and fastening his tie as he went, Clive emerged from his house at a run, not only was he late for work but he was also eager to escape the ear bashing he was receiving.
The final words he heard as he reversed down his driveway and onto the street before pulling away from his home with wheels squealing were delivered by Mrs. Meek from their front door at maximum volume. This was for both his and all their neighbours ears
“You think I was born up crazy creek, you dam well comes home drunk again and youze be sleeping in the yard for a month and Auh is just tarred with all youze boozing, youze about as useful as a pogo stick in quicksand…….”
Looking in his rear view mirror as he disappeared down the street he could see his wife was still standing at their door yelling. ‘Thank god I’m outa there for the day’, he thought as he sped along.
Clive had a busy day ahead of him and to his annoyance he could not hide or sneak off at all that day because he had three on-site meetings to attend, two with Local Parish developers and his first and most important of the day was with a team from Anderson Langford Inc. the US, Interstate and Louisianan Highways team, members of The American Association of State Highways and Transportation Officials (AASHTO) and members of The Federal Highways Administration, (FHWA). Most of the people that Clive would be meeting with that morning were influential decision makers and the majority of them would have travelled a considerable distance to be at the site meeting that morning. Anderson Langford Inc, was a large national real estate developer, based in Baton Rouge, the Anderson Langford team was being headed up by Earl Langford that morning.
Anderson Langford Inc. was founded in 1919 by two men, Joseph Anderson and Raymond Langford upon their return from the trenches of the Western Front of World War One. Over the years the organization had grown and become very powerful and well connected politically at both a state and national level. The current board of directors of Anderson Langford was made up in the main by family, mostly grandchildren of Joseph and Raymond. Curtis Langford was the Chief Executive Officer and Glenn Anderson was the Chief Financial Officer, other family members were designated Vice Presidents, with the remainder of the board being made up of executive and non executive directors; a couple of large investors, a national politician, two state politicians and two union representatives. From the start Joseph and Raymond had the intention of being successful and to aid this they had brought on board any and all that would help ease the way. So almost from its founding, politicians and unions were included in the business, initially with payments and favours given, then as time progressed and Joseph and Raymond became more sophisticated and astute then people of influence were brought into the corporation as board members. The corporation was a multi billion dollar concern with a reputation of constructing high quality housing schemes, as well as owning some of the most prestigious and expensive real estate and office space in the country. Their industrial division was also of national repute having developed huge industrial complexes in the oil and mining industries as well as having continuing contracts with the US military.
Clive was due to be meeting with Earl Langford and his team to discuss the Anderson Langford proposal to develop a large area of land to the south east of Ville Platte either side of the Lousianna State highway 10 / US Highway 167. He had been asked to provide advice upon connecting this development to the Interstate 49 that runs north to south from Alexandria to Lafayette, via the Lousianna State highway 29.
The development was to be a mixed development of housing, schools, offices, light commercial and shopping mall zones. In effect a town of approximately six thousand people was being proposed, which would increase the population of Ville Platte by seventy five percent. This was a very large investment, being made by some very powerful people, and as with all of the deals that Anderson Langford entered into the wheels were supposed to be appropriately greased so that everything ran smoothly. This meant that the right people who would make the right decisions were included and asked to give advice and provide input into the process.
Louisiana Highway 10 (LA 10), (US Highway 167), is a state highway in south-central Louisiana that runs from east to west for some 250 miles. LA 10 is mostly a rural road which was at one time a major route across Louisiana. Over time political pressure as well as the nature and lay of the land caused this highway to lose prominence. It made both logical and financial sense to link this new population to the Interstate 49 via the shorter route of Louisiana Highway 29 to help its interstate connectivity and boost its chances of commercial success.
Clive was tasked with coming up with a feasibility study and justify why this new link road to LA 29 would be more appropriate than just connecting the new development to LA 10 which it straddled.As Clive sped through the morning traffic of Ville Platte he was thinking through the coming meeting, what he would say and how he would deliver his presentation. It was at this moment that he realized that in his hurry to escape the frenzy of his wife’s ear bashing that he had forgotten his laptop and six printed copies of his report. Three were for the attention of the Anderson Langford team and the other three were for his senior Highways colleagues.
He was due to meet at the proposed development site in five minutes and he was still ten minutes away. To turn around and go back home for his laptop and reports was not an option as that would make him over half an hour late. He cursed his wife for not waking him early enough, he cursed Cuzn Luke for getting him drunk and he cursed the traffic for being slow that morning. He blamed everyone but himself for the situation he was now in and as he knew well Earl Langford was not a man to be messed around.
It was another hot and sticky morning and Clive was now breaking out into a sweat, more out of fear than anything else, he put his foot down and raced out of town travelling south east. About five miles out of town Clive slowed and started to look for the entrance to the site. As he slowed he saw up ahead of him first one then a second SUV indicate right and turn off in a cloud of dust, as he slowed more, two cars coming in the opposite direction indicated left and turned off down the same track. The first car was over one hundred and twenty thousand dollars worth of silver Mercedes CL 550, with darkened windows and the second was one hundred and thirty thousand dollars worth of metallic blue BMW ALPINA B7. This must be the place he thought to himself as he slowed some more and indicated right. The cars contained the Anderson Langford team, Clive assumed, as he could not imagine government official having such luxury cars. Clive owned a bright red 2009 Chevrolet Camaro 2SS, which at a cost of twenty nine thousand dollars was an expensive car to him and his pride and joy. As he pulled off of the highway and drove down the dusty track another car turned in behind him, this time it was a bright red Ferrari 599 and at over three hundred thousand dollars the most expensive so far. Ahead of him some two hundred yards or so the four vehicles in front of him had all turned off to the right of the track and driven through a set of iron gates into an open field.
Clive drove slowly into the field, pulled up along side the BMW and watched in his mirror as the Ferrari turned into the field followed by a silver 7 Series BMW, a black Jaguar XJ and a white Audi A8. Usually when Clive attended site meetings with local people, local developers and local parish officials, his car was the newest and shiniest of those attending. Usually people would arrive in old pickups or ten year old sedans but today Clive was definitely bottom of the heap and by a long way at that. This immediately annoyed him and put his nose firmly out of joint, he bristled as he thought of the value of all of the vehicles present and the fact that each and every one of them including the two SUV’s were brand new.
He shook his head and snapped out of his green eyed car envy. He must concentrate and quickly come up with a reasonable excuse as to why he had not brought the required reports and had no laptop to even access the information. Car doors around him had been opened and their occupants had got out and were slamming them behind them.
“Think, think, think.”
Clive muttered to himself, stealing himself to get out of the car and meet all of these powerful and influential people. At least Clive could talk through the majority of the proposal off of the top of his head. For a change Clive had had to do most of the work on this project himself, this was due to his researcher being on home leave as she had just had a baby, and out of his three junior colleagues Jedd who normally did most of Clive’s work for him had been seconded to Baton Rouge for three months, Amy was busy with here own workload and that of Clive’s boss and Randall had been away on a training course in New Orleans. Having done ninety five percent of the research, planning, cost estimating and traffic flow modelling himself, Clive was confident that he could deliver a good presentation without reference to his laptop, answer detailed questions and give his advice, the reports he thought could be e-mail to everyone once he returned home after the meeting and all would be well. As Clive opened his car door to get out another car drew up along side of him and parked. Seated inside was Jeb Clarke, Aaron Gant with Benjamin Carouse at the wheel, they raised their hands and said
“Morning Clive.”
Through the open car window.
“Morning Jebb, Mr. Gant, Mr Carouse.”
Clive replied.
‘What in hells name are they all doing here’, he thought to himself as he waited for them to get out. Jeb Clarke had been involved with this project from its initiation by Anderson Langford Corp and as far as Clive knew all of the zoning maters had been negotiated and had been settled, it was only a case of local and state road access from the proposed site to the interstate highway network that was under discussion today, or at least that was what he had thought.
As the three men got out of their car Clive glanced across to where some twenty yards away the first arrivals on site were all congregating together, there was much back slapping and hand shaking going on, everyone seemed to be greeting each other like old friends. He could hear snatches of the conversations from where he stood.
“Hey Earl you son of a bitch.”
” Mikey it’s been to long.”
”Earl you still looking good.”
“Leonard you must come over some time, it would be great.”
As Clive stood their looking and listening it started to slowly dawn upon him how out of his depth he was. He would have felt out of his depth with all of the reports ready, his laptop to hand and two hours rehearsal but as it was, this was going to be a disaster he thought. The entire group assembled in front of him were dressed in expensive suits, with neat tidy hair cuts, carrying expensive brief cases with expensive watches on their wrists, manicured nails and designer sunglasses shading their eyes.
“Are we all ready gentlemen.”
Mr Gant said to the three of them.
“Shall we proceed?”
He continued, and with that the four of them walked over towards the assembled group. As they approached, Clive cleared his throat and said.
“Good Mornin.”
The conversations within the group continued without anyone seeming to have noticed him, so Clive raised his voice and repeated
”Good Mornin.”
This time the conversations subsided and everyone turned to look at Clive. He continued.
“I am Mr. Clive Meek of the Evangeline Highways Authority and I am sure pleased to be meeting with you all this morning.”
“Ah Mr. Meek.”
Came a voice from the center of the group, people stepped aside and a tall powerfully built man strode purposely towards Clive with his hand outstretched,
“Earl Langford very pleased to meet you.”
Said the powerfully built man as he gripped Clive’s hand and shook it firmly.
“Please let me introduce you to everyone here and we can all get down to the business of the morning right away.”
Earl continued then proceeded to introduce his team,
”Firstly to my right is Sylvia Bond our Senior Legal advisor, Donald St Denis Operations Vice President, James Lafitte Senior Development Planner, Candy Brookman my P.A, Thomas Desoto Senior Infrastructure Planner and Joseph Coate who will be the Programme and Delivery Manager for this Project. To my left is Gabriel Ebert US Highways Manger of Operations for Lousianna, Joe Sanders Interstate Highways Manager of Operations, Gary Prudhomme Louisianan Highways Dirtector of Infrastructure, Danny Carairio representing The American Association of State Highways and Transportation Officials and finally Ted Jackson representing The Federal Highways Administration.”
He did not however introduce two well dressed men, a middle aged woman and a younger dark haired woman who all stood quietly, not drawing attention to themselves at the back of the group. In turn everyone nodded as they were introduced to Clive and in turn he returned a nod of acknowledgement. One of the men who had not been introduced stepped forward and spoke briefly,
“Just before we get going I would like you all to sign a nondisclosure agreement it’s a normal commercial legal agreement to assure the project is kept secret until it is publisied in a few months time.”
He handed eash person present a three page document and asked them to sign.
It was normal practice in the early stages of such a large commercially sensitave project to gain signatures from the participants of the meeting, This assured total secrecy. In turn everyone signed their document without question and handed them back to the well dressed and well spoken man.
“Well let’s get things going.”
Continued Earl Langford as he gestured for the assembled group to follow him. They followed Earl and walked back towards the parked cars and SUV’s, ending up at the rear of a black Cadillac Escalade where two folding tables and a large white board attached to a tripod had been set up. The tables were covered in maps, which on closer inspection were differing scale views of the proposed development on both the northern and southern sides of the Louisiana Highway 10 (LA 10), (US Highway 167) which included a proposed route for the link road to the Louisiana Highway 29.
As Clive walked the short distance he thought it strange that neitherJeb Clarke, Aaron Gant and Benjamin Carouse had introduced themselves or been introduced by Earl Langford and seemed to be hanging back from the main group. He did not have any time to continue this train of thought as Earl called him to join him standing up by the white board in front of the assembled group.
“We are just waiting for an important guest to arrive and we can get started.”
Announced Earl, almost on cue the distant sound of a helicopter could be heard over the noise of the traffic on the nearby highway, heads turned and necks craned around with faces looking expectantly into the blue sky to the south. Not to far away a large white helicopter could be seen speeding towards them. There was a slight murmur of voices heard amongst the group; Clive fidgeted nervously whilst Earl took a call on his cell phone. Within less than a minute the helicopter was making its final maneuvers to land, it was a large white Sikorskyand as it turned side on the logo of Anderson Langford could be plainly be seen emblazoned on its side. The logo was simply a double horizontal dark blue stripe followed by the name Anderson and Langford also in a dark blue, which were either side of the Louisianan ‘Pelican in her Piety’ , then followed again by a double horizontal dark blue stripe. The helicopter landed some 150 yards away from them in the field and as the rotors began to slow and the turbine whine reduced the side door of this large helicopter opened and a set of steps was unfolded down to the ground from within. Out stepped six men, one by one they descended the steps from the cool comfort of the helicopter interior into the dusty heat of mid Southern Louisiana.
Clive was straining to see who these six men were. It suddenly occurred to him that it was probably more senior board members of Anderson Langford and as he strained his unease heightened and nerves twitched. When the six men were within about 40 yards or so he recognized to his horror both of the central figures instantly. It was Curtis Langford the Chief Executive Officer of Anderson Langford, Clive had seen him on numerous occasions on TV advertisements. He was flanked by the other fiver men, two on each side, large powerful looking men with high and tight military looking crew cuts and dark sunglasses and the fifth was a man of much leaner build with longer hair wearing a very smart suit. The four bulky men were obviously security and from the look of them they were not people that anyone would want to annoy or cross and the fifth was probably Curtis Langfords P.A .Clive figured
Clive’s nerves now exploded in an outburst of erratic electrical impulses causing him to twitch more and more, his hands started to shake and he could feel himself flushing red and starting to sweat. The more he thought about the situation the worse it seemed to him and the more nervous he became. He was sure that it would be plain to everyone that he was breathing heavily and shaking like a leaf, so before Earl had finished his cell phone call and Curtis Langford, his entourage had reached them, he closed his eyes and did his best to calm himself.
Earl finished his call with
“Yes that’s right, on my desk by 7.00am tomorrow, goodbye.”
Pocketing his phone he turned and walked the short distance towards the approaching Curtis, hand outstretched he welcomed him,
“Curtis perfect timing I hope you had a comfortable ride.”
Clive could only assume that the corporate helicopter had picked Curtis Langford from Anderson Langford’s copporate headquarters in Baton Rouge, ‘it could not have taken long to fly up to Ville Platte’, Clive thought to himself. Baton Rougewas only seventy miles away as the crow flies, probably only twenty minutes or so’, he continued thinking to himself until he was jerked out of his thoughts and back to the present by a sharp slap on the back.
“And here Curtis is Mr. Clive Meek the Senior Engineer of Evangeline Highways Authority, this is the guy that has been planning the highways connections here locally and will connect us all up to Interstate 49.”
Earl said introducing Clive
“Good to meet you.”
Curtis said with a broad smile as he took Clive’s hand and shook it firmly
“Please to meet you sir.”
Clive’s replied as his hand was grasped by Curtis and crushed with a bear like grasp. Clive returned the compliment to then took a couple of small steps backwards and turned to address the entire group.
He launched straight into his presentation, his mind seemed somehow detached from his body and his mouth just seemed to talk. He was presenting his approach to the traffic flow modeling, costings for connecting to Highways 10, the building of an overpass to connect both the northern and southern halves of the development and the construction of the new northern road connection to Highway 29 and Interstate 49. He identified land that would need to be purchased along the route of the new road and he talked briefly about standards and Highways safety, including his professional advice and opinions upon some traffic specific issues. He finished by asking his assembled audience if they had any questions and scanning the faces opposite to look for a reaction. Nothing was said, just a couple of polite nods of the head.
“Well thank you Mr. Meek for that, I would now like to ask James, and Joseph to take center stage and talk us through the program initiation, the high level plans and the phases of delivery.”
Earl said, Clive inwardly breathed a sigh of relief and stepped aside and took up a position next to Jeb Clarke in the audience. As far as he was concerned all had gone extremely well, his presentation seemed perfect and nobody had needed to ask questions. He felt extremely pleased with himself that he had held his own with these high-flying powerful people and inwardly reprimanded himself for being so nervous. The meeting progressed for another forty minutes or so with three other speakers stepping forward to present their information, Clive was not really listening to the detail of what was being presented or discussed, his thoughts had already moved on to the afternoon meetings and how early he could get home. His hangover was now making an appearance as his morning’s stresses and nervousness evaporated, his head was beginning to reverberate with pulses of pain and he was getting a sickly acidic burning feeling in his stomach. All he could think of now was having the hair of the dog, a tall cold beer to soothe his aches and ward off this awful feeling. His hungover daydream of cold beer was shattered into tiny splinters and shards of a cure on hearing his name being uttered quite loudly by Earl, Earl was now standing back out in front of the audience.
”Mr. Meek……… Mr. Meek we have got some questions for you now, please step forward.”
Clive stepped forward and turned to face his audience for the second time that morning. The first two questions he fielded with ease and supplied detailed responses which received a
“Yes very good Mr. Meek that will do fine.” and “great, just what I wanted to hear.”
from his questioners, but from there on in the situation deteriorated very quickly.
Question after question came forward asking for a level of detailed response that Clive was unused to having to answer. He was used to holding the high ground when dealing with local matters and fobbing off inquisitive questioning with a well honed and practiced delivery of official technical speak and pure bullshit. This however could not be done here and with each subsequent question that was asked of him Clive had to make a note of it and offer to respond in detail by e-mail by the end of the day. He could feel the eyes of Earl piercing the back of his head, he also noticed Curtis Langford who was standing directly opposite him glowering at him with an expression of extreme displeasure. After the last question had been raised and again gone unanswered Earl Langford spoke.
“Well I’m sure Mr. Meeks’ report will cover all your questions.”
With this Clive flushed deep red and stammered a response,
“I am afraid that I don’t have the reports with me sir, I was waiting for these questions to come forward so I could include my responses within my report and e-mail them out to you all this afternoon.”
He lied.
“You what”!”
Exploded Curtis Langford
Earl turned to his P.A.
“Candy please ask Mr Meek to supply you with copy of all of these questions before he leaves and e-mail a copy of them to The Chief Executive Officer at Evangeline Parish, also include in the e-mail our requirement to have Mr. Meeks full report delivered to us all by five pm this afternoon with all questions answered.”
“Yes of course Sir.”
Replied Candy.
Clive wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole, opposite to him people were either nodding their heads in a disapproving manner or frowning.
“That will be all Mr. Meek.”
Earl continued in a very curt manner gesturing for Clive to leave the assembled group.
“Thank you Mr. Langford, I’ll have all of the reports and information required e-mailed to you all by five p.m.”
Clive said appoligetically then turned and walked away back towards his car with his tail between his legs. As he walked he heard a couple of sniggers and in a rather loud voice.
”Well I hope this morning is not a complete waste of time.”
He dared not turn to see who had said that but from the sound of the voice he thought it had been uttered by Curtis Langford.
As he reached his car door a voice called out to him from behind.
“Mr. Meek please wait, I need to copy out the questions and provide you with all the relevant e-mail addresses.”
Clive stopped and turned, it was Candy, who smiled at him weakly, he was now shaking with rage at the humiliation he had just suffered and just wanted to be out of there, and fast. Quickly he copied out all of the questions he had been asked and gave the copy to Candy, he then noted down all of the e-mail addresses needed, as Candy dictated them to him from her Blackberry. With that done, he quickly and rather feebly said,
“Thank you ma’am.”
Then opened his car door and jumped in, starting the engine he slammed the car into reverse and careered backwards. With a sickening crunch he came to an abrupt halt which jerked him violently backwards in his seat. Looking up into his rear view mirror he saw an iron gatepost in the center of his trunk and the gleaming red bodywork distorted up into a sharp crease, he turned around in his seat to get a better look
“For Fuck sake.”
He screamed at himself as he thumped the steering wheel, he turned back around and as he looked out of the windscreen he could see all of the meeting participants had turned and were staring in his direction. He daren’t get out and look at the damage, so he pushed the shift into drive, edged forward and then reversed out of the gate onto the track.
He didn’t even look as he shot like a rocket out of the dusty track onto the highway, luckily for him there was nothing coming, slewing sideways; he put his foot down and accelerated away. After a mile or so he pulled over at Rooster Browns diner and got out to survey the damage. To his horror he saw that he had stoved the rear of his car in by about a foot. The fender was ruined, as was the trunk lid, pushed inwards and upwards with the shiny red paintwork cracked revealing bare metal below. The rear spoiler was shattered with strands of fiberglass protruding and both light casings had cracked.
“Shit, shit shit.”
He cursed and for good measure kicked the damaged car. He suddenly thought of the gas tank so he lay down on his side and peered under the rear of the car. He had been lucky because the damage to the underside of the car had left his gas tank untouched. Standing up he brushed the dust from his shirt and trousers and got back into his car, he checked his watch and finding that he had an hour and a half to spare before he had to be back near Spicebridge for his next meeting decided to catch a bite to eat.
Clive walked in and took up a seat at the bar, Rooster Browns was famed for its burger melts with spiced fries so without bothering to pick up the menu he ordered a double half pound burger melt, double fries, vanilla shake and extra large Coke. The waitress behind the bar had been courteous, beaming a smile at Clive, and taking down his order quickly she finishing with Serving him by saying,
“jus be a while hun.”
But all Clive returned was a grunt and turned away from the bar to look out of the window at the crumpled rear of his car. As he sat there he replayed in his mind the morning’s events, outwardly flinching as he remembered the rebukes from Earl and Curtis, the sniggers from some of the meetings’ participants and his final humiliation when he trashed his prized car in front of everyone. To make matters worse, the whole farcical episode had been witnessed by Jeb Clarke, Aaron Gant and Benjamin Carouse and would soon be common knowledge amongst all of his working colleagues and people that he associated with in delivering his day to day work. He ground his teeth and cursed inwardly as he imagined the mocking and sarcastic remarks that he would now have to endure, the thought of being a laughing stock was to much to think about, so turning back on his chair, Clive thumped the bar and shouted,
” Where the god dam’s my food?”
True to form Clive was taking out his frustration on others, being extremely spiteful and offensive in a loud bullying way.
The young waitress appeared from a doorway behind the bar with his order in her hands
“I am awful sorry for the delay sir.”
She said with a broad smile, laying his food on the counter in front of him. Clive ignored her apology, snatched the huge dripping burger from the plate and took an enormous bite. Grease and melted cheese oozed out of the bun and down his chin.
“Hey bitch, god dam buger’s cold.”
Clive screamed after the disappearing waitress; the waitress meekly turned to Clive apologizing profusely and grimaced under a barrage of foul mouthed abuse. The burger was not cold; it was just Clive’s way of venting his anger and humiliation upon a poor unsuspecting and defenseless young waitress, making himself feel better, important, a somebody. The young woman burst into a flood of tears as she picked up his order from the bar and turned for the kitchen.
Clive’s outbursts did not go unnoticed, the first outburst caused the entire eatery to turn momentarily and look at him disapprovingly, the second however attracted the attention of Jerome. Jerome Tassin was a giant of a man, softly spoken, polite and well mannered. He worked as a faming contractor across the parish and he was a face that was well known in many parts. One thing Jerome despised was a bully, he would not take that kind of behaviour himself and hated seeing a bully in action, dominating, terrifying and subjugating their innocent victims. What made it worse for Jerome was that the bullying and foul mouthed abuse was being delivered by a man towards a young woman and his friend for that matter for no apparent reason.
Clive continued his rant and received more disapproving looks but he was oblivious to these, he was also quite unaware that he was being approached from behind by what could only be described as a very angry, muscular man mountain. Jerome must have stood six feet seven in bare feet and weighed in at about two hundred and eighty pounds of muscle, long hair and shaggy beard. Jerome reached the back of Clive’s bar stool and just stood there silently listening to him abuse the young waitress, the diner, the food and back to the waitress again.
As Clive’s tirade subsided the young waitress appeared from the doorway with another order and placed it on the bar
” It sure is hot now sir, is there anything else I can get for you?”
She said through s forced smile.
“Another Coke and make it fast.”
Clive snapped back, he picked up the new burger and again took a huge bite, as he chewed he reached for the mayonnaise to spread over his spicy fries.
Jerome had heard enough from this foul mouthed man, he hated bullies and he hated to see Rebecca crying, she was a lovable, shy young woman who worked hard at the diner and was a good friend to Jerome. Stretching slightly forward with his right arm, Jerome placed his hand upon Clive’s Shirt collar, scrunching it up into his fist, he then lifted Clive straight up from his seat and carried him past the laughing locals to the doorway of the diner. All the time Clive was struggling and trying to crane his neck backwards to see what had lifted him up and what was happening. Jerome pushed the door fully open with his right foot. He stood there silently for a second, allowing the locals to laugh and jeer at Clive’s misfortune, before whispering into Clive’s ear, he then drew his right leg purposely back and let it fly forward propelling Clive out of the diner into the car park like a seasoned pro footballer. Clive landed in a heap at the bottom of three steps in a cloud of dust, in his ears the laughter and jeers rang loudly. Nobody new what Jerome had said to Clive, but Clive leapt up and ran full pelt across the car park to his car. Jerome turned on his heels back into the diner, he paused to smile at Rebecca,
“Oh Thank you Jerome, that was awful sweet of you, but I can look after myself.”
She responded.
“Il n’y apas de quoi,It’s my pleasureBecks.”
Jerome responded as he walked slowly back to his table by the side window and sat down to finish his plate of chicken sausage Jambalaya, garlic mashed potatoes, black-eyed peas and Jalapeno cornbread. As he took his seat he watched the crumpled rear of a bright red Camaro disappear in a cloud of dust onto the highway.
Clive was now spitting venom like a cornered Corn snake, thumping his steering wheel and cursing everyone who had been in the diner. In his mind Clive sought vengeance on both the bitch of a waitress and the dumb-fuck that had so unceremoniously thrown him out. For the next ten miles he cursed and spat vengeance until finally his mood lessened and his thoughts returned to work. He had been in such a cloud of enraged turmoil that he had driven too far along the highway and needed to turn around and drive back a couple of miles to take the road for Spicebridge. Before pulling onto the Spicebridge road he checked his watch; he still had fifty minutes to kill before his next meeting in the village of Charlotte, four miles north east of Spicebridge. He could pass by Cuzn Luke’s for a short while and loose some time and hopefully pick up a container of ‘shine’. Cuzn Luke had frequent access to locally brewed shine and being a shiner who stilled his own liquor Cuzn Luke nearly always had some available and if not had all the right connections to get some. So with that in mind Clive continued on the highway towardsJenaand in no time at all was pulling up outside Cuzn Luke’s. Unusually for this time of day Cuzn Like was not sitting on his porch drinking the day away. The windows were all closed and both doors locked. Cuzn Luke’s red pickup was not in its usual place to the rear of the shack so Clive decided to take a slow drive back through Spicebridge and stop somewhere for a doughnut and coffee. He climbed back into his car rather dejectedly; he had been looking forward to going home with a full gallon container of shine that evening. Turning the key the engine sparked into life, he revved the engine then let it settled down to its familiar burble, Clive slammed the drive into reverse and spun backwards away from Cuzn Luke’s shack. A loud deep popping sound followed by a crunch alerted Clive that something was up, he slammed the brake on and jumped out of the car. He was met by a loud hissing coming from the rear of his car. It came from his rear wheel; to be precise it came from the hole in his rear tyre that had been gashed by the broken neck of one of Cuzn Lukes empty beer bottles which had lain in the dust of the track since Cuzn Luke’s last late night binge.
“Oh for Fuck sake, not again.”
Clive screamed, scrunching his hair between two sweaty fists, he lashed out at his beloved car for the second time that day. He kicked the wheel so hard that he bent his big toe right backwards, ripping his toenail half off. He squealed in pain and danced around in a hobbling dance on his left leg holding his right foot in his left hand as he danced. This mad jig was accompanied by the ever dwindling hissing as the last few pounds of air pressure escaped from the jagged hole in the tyre tread. Clive slumped down in the dust besides his car and gingerly removed his scuffed and dusty shoe. His sock was already beginning to feel warm and wet, which once carefully removed revealed a swollen big toe with its nail torn half off right up to the quick on one side with blood oozing out. It now began to throb and Clive thumped the ground at his side repeatedly. Having no first aid kit in his car he thought the best thing to do was to replace the sock and shoe which would keep the toenail in place and reasonably clean. After five minutes or so of swearing and teeth clenching Clive’s shoe was back on, he pulled himself to his feet and limped around to the rear of his car to open his trunk to get out his jack and wheel wrench. His heart sank as he tried in vain to open the crumpled trunk lid, it was stuck fast, he was well and truly fucked.
Clive’s next meeting in Charlotte was with his own boss Michael Long, a local developer, Evangeline Parish Attorney Jacques Fournier and Parish Engineer Raoul Lavache. They were meeting to conduct a final site and road survey for a relatively small development, to allow Mr. Long to finallise a report and Highways agreement for development. It was more of being seen to be doing the right thing than actually completing a rigorous and honest fact based survey, but Mr Long was not a man that allowed any outward display of incompetence by his team and if Clive was as much a minute late let alone not turning up at all, there would be hell to pay.
Clive reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, to his dismay when he brushed the touch screen with his finger it illuminated briefly, displayed a battery low message, then abruptly died on him. ‘What next!’ he thought to himself as he tapped his dead cell phone against his head. He was hot, sweaty, and dusty, his toe throbbed, his car was a mess and he was stuck in the middle of nowhere. His only hope was to hobble to the highway and hope to stop someone and ask for assistance, hitch a ride back along the highway some five miles or so toHenry’s Tavernwhere he could at least call his boss and tell him the bad news and arrange for a tow truck to come and haul him back home, or hope Cuzn Luke returned soon.
Clive checked his watch again as he stood by the side of the highway, thumb outstretched, he had been hopelessly standing there for nearly half an hour now and nobody had stopped. In ten minutes it would be to late to call his boss to fore warn him and then the shit would really hit the fan. He was already in hot water over the mornings’ debacle and was sure that the people from Anderson Langford Inc. would make their displeasure clear to Mr Long who in turn would make Clive’s life hell for the foreseeable future. Just as he was musing over what his boss’s reactions would be a horn sounded and on turning to look back along the highway a white Mercedes indicated and pulled up along side him.
Clive explained his situation and to his relief the Mercedes driver offered to drive him to Henry’s Tavern and allowed Clive to make a call on his cell phone. This was unsuccessful however as his call only reached the voicemail of Mr. Long that proclaimed that Mr. Long was now in a meeting and to leave a message. Inwardly Clive swore ‘shit, shit, shit’, then swiftly followed that with a polite message to his boss.
“Micheal, its Clive here, I have been trying to get hold of you for twenty minutes or so but my cell phone had a bad signal.”
He lied,
“I have had an accident, nothing bad, but I will need to call a tow truck to get me home, I am sorry for missing the meeting with you in Charlotte I will call you at the office later, bye.”
Clive finished his call and handed the cell phone back.
“Havin a bad day an all.”
The driver said to Clive, noticing his slight distress.
“Could say tha.t”
Clive responded, then sat in silence until they pulled up in front of Henry’s Tavern.
“Thank you sir that was a real kind gesture.”
Clive said to the driver as he got out of the car, he tapped twice on the car roof thankfully and watched it as it pulled back onto the highway and drove off into the midday sun. He limped across the car park and up the steps of the diner. Opening the door the cool air-conditioned breeze from within refreshed his face as it blew over him. He limped up to the bar and waited patiently for service. His hangover was now making a strong appearance, his head pounded, his eyes ached, he felt queasy, his toe was throbbing and he was in the shit at work.
Clive was directed to two phone booths at the rear of the diner. He flicked through the battered phone book to find the number of his local garage and made the call, he then limped back to the front of the diner and took up a window table, he ordered a extra large coffee with two double choc-chip doughnuts and stared aimlessly out onto the highway. He watched the comings and going of the diner and for a while lost himself listening to the background music. Three extra large cups off coffee finished and still his tow truck had not arrived to pick him up. He had been assured that someone would be with him within twenty five minutes but that was now quarter of an hour ago and he was starting to get agitated. His fingers drummed the table continually as he scanned both ways along the highways looking for a tow truck. Another fifteen minutes passed and Clive began to think about his last appointment of the day, it was not for another two hours but it was a good twenty minutes drive north east of Ville Platte, in Pine Praire. If things kept going as they were he would miss that appointment as well. Three blasts on an air horn announced the arrival of the tow truck at Henry’s and aroused Clive from his thoughts.
He got up from his table, limped across the diner to the door, completely ignoring the
“Goodbye sir.”
That was offered to him by the owner from behind the long counter. He continued out of the door and leaving the cool shade of the diner behind him crossed the car park and pulled himself up into the cab of the Tow truck that was waiting.
“Mr Meek?”
Enquired the driver.
“Yep that’s me.”
Replied Clive, sighing as he took his seat,
“So where is yuh car?
The driver enquired from behind a large dark beard and dark mirrored sunglasses.
“Umm….., bout four to five miles down the highway then off down a track for a mile or so an there’ll be my car.”
“Sure thing, lets go a ged youze rescued.”
The beard continued as they drove off onto the highway.
“An whaya is youze a wannin to be dropped off?”
He continued. Clive gave the beard his address. They sat in silence, Clive nursing his throbbing foot which still felt warm and wet as if still seeping blood slightly and the beard chewing on his backy, delivering dark projections of sticky black saliva in long arches out of his drivers window until they pulled up alongside Clive’s car.
In no time at all the beard had Clive’s Camaro lifted and secured on his tow truck and they moved off from Cuzn Lukes along the track and back onto the highway. The beard continued with his chewing and spitting for the entire journey interspersed with the occasional comment, all of which Clive ignored as he stared blankly at the passing countryside from his window.
On arrival home the beard dropped Clive off and told him that the garage would call him the next morning with an estimate to fix the damage, all he had to do was to contact his insurers to make arrangements to have his car fixed.
He looked on with sadness as the crumpled rear end of his car disappeared along his street secured to the tow truck; he wondered how much this would all cost. ‘At least it could all be claimed for on his work expenses as he was on official duty when he damaged his car’, he thought to himself. He turned to limp towards his house only to see that his wife’s car was not on the driveway, he was depending upon her car to get him to his last appointment of the day. He limped up his driveway, each step seeming to squelch more than the last and each step sending a searing jolt of pain up his leg deep into his brain. On reaching his door he saw a note pinned to the wooden frame. He tore it down and opened it.
“Gone to mom’s for a few days, fed up with all the drinking and staying out!!!”
It said in bright red ink.
Clive pulled back the fly screen unlocked his door and entered the cool shade of his home. He sat down on his sofa, picked up his phone and called his office, leaving a message that he had had an accident and would be off of work for at least the rest of the day, He opened the refrigerator, cracked a beer open and then limped back to his sofa where he collapsed backwards in a heap.
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
