Chapter 32 The Site Visit
Samuel’s mood had been darkening over the course of the last few days as the zoning committee’s site visit by the approached. He had become extremely tense and snappy with everyone, Pooh and Moo had both picked up on this and were a little subdued. Even a recent marked reduction in temperature and humidity due to a couple of large storm fronts that had blown across the land over the course of a few nights had no effect upon Samuel.
Everyone else in Evangeline had more of a spring in their step, were less lethargic and noticeably happier. Their heat induced tempers were subsiding as Samuel’s bubbled and boiled within. It was not really a temper more of a succession of frustrated outbursts that were triggered by anyone who interfered with Samuel’s thought pattern. He was running over the Zoning application in his mind, his points of objection, thinking about what he would say and what he would keep back for the committee meeting itself. His mind was looking at the problem from all sorts of different angles, will the applicants be there? Who will be supporting them? Who would be supporting Samuel in objecting? He knew of more than ten local neighbours who had written letters of objection and sent them off to Town Hall and more who had signed a petition of objection to the alligator farm. But that was a paper exercise, as he well knew not everyone was comfortable with speaking in public or dealing with confrontation, not everyone was happy to speak in an open public meeting or challenge one another face to face. He hoped that he was not the only objector that would turn up for the site visit, he hoped we would be allowed to talk and more than anything he hoped that the zoning committee would be completely neutral and look at the matter based upon the facts. His greatest hope was that they would consider the application and how it complied with policies, guidelines and laws. He thought that if they read through the application in detail that they, like he had, would identify all the policies that the application was not complying with, and would see the supporting documentation for what it was, a fabricated pack of lies. Finally he hoped they would listen to both sides of the argument. Surely then they would come down on his side and refuse the application and that would stop the development of the alligator farm in its tracks.
Every night when he had finished work that week he arrived home and walked with his dogs down to the Cypress at the waters edge and stared for hours out over its sparkling orange waters deep in thought. The Blue Herons high above still let out their “ark, ark” sounds as the three young waited eagerly for the return of a hunting parent. Unusually for Mr. Heron and his mate they had arrived late in the season, much to Samuel’s concern. They were normally refurbishing their nest by the first or second of April, but this year they did not arrive until mid April and then very quickly tidied up the nest and completed a very rushed courtship, three eggs being laid over the course of five days. They had then spent twenty eight days incubating their precious light blue eggs, taking turns to go off hunting, changing four to five times a day and the last two months had been spent feverishly hunting to feed their three young hungry offspring. The young would soon be fledging and leaving the nest and as Samuel sat down below, high up above the young hoped about in the branches looking out across the lake awaiting the silhouette of a returning mum or dad laden with food.
At Nine O’clock on the dot Billy-Bob and Mary-Jo accompanied by Ethan, Joshua Zachary pulled up in Billy-Bobs pickup outside the church Of Lokchapi, it was were they had been told the zoning committee were going to assemble for their site visit. It was another hot steamy morning, the last few days which had been cooler and a refreshing interlude had been engulfed by the heat and humidity which was rapidly building again. They sat there in silence for a couple of minutes watching cars pull up and disgorge official looking people.
“D’ya think we’ll get any support Billy-Bob?”
Mary-Jo asked as she watched the official looking people assembling in the shade of a cluster of red oaks that cast their shadow over the front church gate. Billy-Bob thought for a moment, scratched his chin and tried to swat a fly that had landed on his arm before he replied.
“Mr. Gant will be here with ourne application an supportin evidence an that person he has gone got for us……, umm a Mr. Do hickedy…. what yuh call him?…….. Umm, a Mr…….ummm, yeah that’s it a Mr. Benjamin Carouse…….. Auh think, he’s the man what’ll give them all the in-formations about ourne business an how good it is…, an possibly some folks from Malase an some of ourne frens will come along.”
He scratched his chest that was already running with sweat and sat silently, Mary-Jo thought for a bit, she rung her hands together and picked at the skin around her bitten nails.
“Auh’s a bit nervous about what they’s gonna say.”
She said before biting her nails in a concerned effort to reduce them from almost nothing to nothing.
“Done be nervous mom we is all gonna support you anPa.”
Zachary said from the rear bench seat,
“Sure will.”
Ethan agreed before digging Joshua in the ribs and motioning for him to join in an support their Ma and Pa. Joshua had been miles away, watching a squirrel balance along the top of the picket fence that ran around the boundary of the church yard. With consummate balance it moved in bursts of frenetic movement, stopping for a couple of seconds here and there in patches of shade. Ever alert, scanning its surroundings for danger, it moved with a flowing grace along the fence line before leaping up into a low bough of a black ash tree and disappeared from sight.
“Uggh, hey…., um….., yeah Mom yuh both gonna smash it……, Pa will that Mr. Gant do all the speakin or will yuh tawk?”
Joshua said once roused from his day dream.
“I’m hopin Mr.Gant’ll do all the tawkin an splainin but we’ll just have tuh see son.”
Mary-Jo pulled down her sun visor and slid open the mirror on the back of it, she inspected her face before applying more lipstick, this was the third coating her lips had received since she got ready to leave home only half an hour ago. As she was finishing up applying her make up Billy-Bob glanced in his rear view mirror and saw a man with a folder under his arm walking up behind them.
“That man just gonna be walkin by is Samuel Kennedy, an he’s one of the ob-jetcors an from what Mr.Gant said he’s the main one.”
The boys in the back all craned their heads around as he walked up from behind their pickup and past it towards the group of people in the shade.
“What yuh think of him Pa?”
Ethan asked as he watched him walk down the road.
“Seems nice nuff when he’s bin in Malase, not had much tuh do with him really, but he’s ourne main opposition…, Mr. Gant said he writ some awful detailed objections about laws an poll-ic-ees an could cause some big problems for ourne ci-tifurcate.”
“When he’s bin huntin with all of us he seems fine, good shot and knows how’ tuh keep quiet.” Joshua said before getting his second dig in his ribs from Ethan
“You stupid or sumpin, yuh sure is a few cans short of a six pack, dummy he’s ourne in-emy, ain’t that soPa.”
Ethan said in a show of support for his dad.
“Looks about as sharp as a mash potato.”
May-Jo said as she folded back the sun visor and replaced here lipstick into her handbag
“Don’t carry on so Mary-Jo that man ain’t stupid at all, from what Mr.Gant said it’s gonna be a hard battle with all the stuff he investigated an found out aboud laws and poll-is-ees and all…Ethan you sure is right he’s ourne in-emy son an that goes fuh all of you bois, as far as this application is concerned he’s ourne in-emy an we gonna beat him.”
The boys in the back all whooped and hollered and made such a noise that Mary-Jo had to tell them to all quieten down.
“Fine, thanks fuh all the support bois, but just calm yuhsels down, I don’t told yuh once ain’t gonna tell youze twice.”
With that all the shouting and hollering from the back seat stopped.
“Let’s get down an see what’s happinin…., sumpin is starting to happen cos they is all gatherin together.”
Billy-Bob said as he swung his door open and climbed out, the rest of the family followed, slamming the pickup doors behind them before trooping off in single file towards the church.
Samuel walked along the track from his house towards the church in a reasonably good mood, he was prepared for some confrontation if it came, he had his questions prepared for the zoning committee, that is if he was allowed to speak and it was a morning off work, a blessing in itself. He had just passed a pick up truck full of people to his right that he recognised to be the Johnson family. These were the people who were applying for the alligator farm, these were his tormentor. If successfully his family’s life would be made a misery due to the increase in traffic along the narrow windy track that ran past his house would be ridiculous, noise, dust, congestion. To top that, the proposed site was practically opposite his home on the other side of the mouth of the bayou where it opened out into Lake Cavelier, such a beautiful location that would be ruined.
He controlled his rising anger as he walked and tried to put them out of his mind, which was successful for a second or so before he heard a loud whooping and hollering coming from the pickup he had just walked past. They were either fooling around in general or has he suspected directing a large amount of ridicule towards him, it would be known that he was one of the main objectors, the hairs on his neck bristled as he thought of the family mocking him.
‘Fuckin dumbfuck redneck hicks’, he thought to himself before casting those thoughts away and focussing back on the mornings’ site visit. As he approached the group by the church gate he stated to recognise some of them. There was Jeb Clarke the local zoning officer, a person that he’d exchanged many e-mails with over the last couple of weeks, right next to him was Mr. Clive Meeks, he was the local highways official. Samuel had come across him a couple of times over the last five years or so and found him to be a horrible worm of a man who could not answer a straight question and had a devious air about him. Next to these two stood a couple of men Samuel had never seen before, one a tall thin man in a crumpled crème linen suit, chest thrust forwards, he was standing silently in a the shade, watching everyone that had congregated with what looked like and air of superiority . The other,a large Creole man, with an elegant face framed with a small silver pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose was deep in conversation with Jeb Clarke. ‘The rest of the people gathered in the shade must be the actual members of the zoning committee’, Samuel thought as he stopped on the edge of the group.
A man was standing in the center talking to the group, as Samuel’s ears tuned in he picked up on what was being said.
“And from there we will then drive back along the track to where we are here, its about one mile either way I think, there is a bridge half way according to the map so just take it easy over it as it might not be up to much. Once over the bridge do a hard left, if you go straight ahead you will end up in Malase and I don’t think the locals will appreciate all of us turning up unannounced.”
There was a slight ripple of laughter from the group before the man in the middle spoke again.
“Don’t forget once we get to the site Mr. Clarke will outline the application and the applicants’ agent Mr. Gant will then speak.”
The tall man in the crumpled crème suit nodded.
The man in the middle, who Samuel now assumed was the chairman of the Zoning Committee, spoke again.
“Then Mr. Carouse will provide information about the applicants business.”
The large elegant looking Creole man nodded.
“And the applicant, a Mr. Johnson and any supporters of the application can speak, then any objectors can speak…., lets try to keep the discussions calm, short and precise as we have two more site visits to complete today.”
The man in the middle closed his notebook, which signaled to the assembled group that he had finished speaking and it was time to move off to the site itself.
The gathering started to disperse, the committee members, town hall officials, the applicant’s agent, the elegant Creole man, other unknown people and the Johnson family all made their way over to their own cars or pickups. Samuel turned and walked the short distance home to get his pickup. By the time he had picked up his keys from the kitchen and said goodbye to Pooh and Moo for the second time in fifteen minutes a line of vehicles were driving past his home. He waited until the last one had passed before reversing out of his drive onto the track and following the trail of dust as it billowed in the wake of the official convoy. After a couple of hundred yards Samuel pulled over and waited for the dust to settle before proceeding along the track and over the old bridge. Here he met Jean and Therese who were coming towards him from Malase in Jean’s pickup. Samuel pulled over for a moment and said hello to Jean and Therese.
“Là où vous allez……, where you go?”
Jean asked through his open window.
“The site meeting for the alligator farm, they’re all up ahead of me, officials agents, supporters, I hope there is someone on my side.”
“Bonne chance mon ami, but I take no side.”
“I know Jean…, I’ll just do my best and see what happens.”
“Tous vous pouvez faire, .. all you can do my friend.”
“Good luck Samuel mon ami.”
Called Therese.
“Je n’ai aucune axe à grind Samuel.”
Therese continued as they both pulled away from each other. Samuel looked in his rear view mirror as their pickup started to disappear in a swirl of dust behind him. Both Jean and Therese were waving to him, he returned their wave, ‘What a lovely couple, straight talking, not wanting to take sides….., good, decent people’, and with that last thought their pickup was enveloped in the swirling dust that sprang up from the track with every passing vehicle. Samuel drove the short distance to the application site and parked along side a smart Chevrolet. He picked up his folder, climbed out of his pickup and walked the short distance to where everyone was congregating again.
As he stood there on the edge of the group he recognized quite a few more faces, they were from the village and lived not far from him, in and around the church, village center and two of them fronted onto the track opposite to him. Some of them smiled in acknowledgement when he looked at them and caught their eye, some were intently listening to the starting of the proceedings and some looked away when their eyes met, ‘these must be the supporters of the application’, Samuel thought. Most of the locals knew of his strong objections to the application by now and Samuel assumed smiles were objectors to the application like himself and people who looked away from him were supporters of it, ‘anyway he would find out soon’, he thought to himself.
His mind tuned in to the meeting once the speaker from the meeting at the church had finished his pre-amble and Samuel was right he was the chairman of the Zoning Committee. The first to speak was Mr. Jeb Clarke, he outlined the application and after going through a few issues that had arisen stated that he as the Zoning Officer was supporting the application, he then pointed to where various buildings would be situated on the site and briefly described their sizes and functions. Next was the crumpled suited Mr. Gant, he spoke about all of the merits of the application and tried to dispel any concerns about the amount of traffic that would be generated to service the proposed business. He stated that the application had estimated only four additional movements of vehicles per day would be generated, two in and two out, he also stated that the relocation of the business would be of great benefit to the village community and that he too thought it was a very positive contribution to both the local economy and to the local environment. In his humble opinion as he put it, the farm would take pressure off of the natural alligator population locally that were again in his humble opinion over hunted. After he had spoken Mr. Carouse stepped forward and introduced himself.
Mr. Carouse spoke slowly, in a deep mellow voice, he described the current operation on the other side of Malase as being a profitable business that needed relocation to expand, he described its current location as dilapidated with poor transport links through Malase and out the other side.
“If you think this track is bad you should see the track as it leaves Malase for the current alligator farming operation run and owned by Mr. Johnson and his family, a family that has been successfully working in their business for three generations.”
He said in a serious tone
There was some head shaking while he spoke and some muttering but nothing was said to disturb the proceedings. Mr. Johnson declined to speak when asked and looked down at his boots, Mrs. Johnson smiled awkwardly, tottering around in high heels and a belt of a skirt that was so inappropriate it defied belief, her their three boys just scuffed their boots around in the dust with their hands thrust firmly in the pockets of their ragged jeans in sullen teenager poses.
Next came the chance for any supporters to voice their opinions, in total five people stepped forward and agreed that the application would create jobs, that it would allow an already existing business to relocate and expand and that the track that served the site was more than adequate for the increase in traffic volumes that it would create. One in particular annoyed Samuel, she was Mrs. Marjorie Baptiste, a local woman who’s husband Hector an African American local who could trace his family straight back to the local plantation had died only a couple of years ago. She lived on her own now just along the track from Samuel on the opposite side to his home. In the past, about nine years earlier, she and her husband had signed a letter of objection with all of the residents along the track to ask Evangeline Parish to stop any further zoning development to be carried out along the track that they all lived on. This was due to its substandard nature and that it was plainly not suitable for any more traffic along its narrow windy length. It had no side walks or lighting and at times with the current level of traffic was dangerous if careless drivers sped along it, in places ten miles per hour was to fast.
Mrs. Marjorie Baptiste stepped forward when she had the chance to speak and as the others before her supported the application, she too agreed that the track was more than adequate.
‘Two faced bitch’, thought Samuel inwardly, outwardly he remained composed and listened while some objectors now took their chance to speak. Seven in all spoke before Samuel, all contradicting the supporters, stating that they were unaware of an existing business on the other side of Malase that was farming alligators, that the track was far to small and dangerous for any increased traffic and questioned the site’s location within the Lake Cavelier National Park.
Finally after waiting patiently Samuel stepped forward to speak. He started by introducing himself then acknowledging the applicant’s right to apply for zoning certification and affirming his right to object. There were nods of agreement from all present. Next Samuel questioned Mrs. Marjorie Baptiste’s statement and openly called her a hypocrite, telling the assembled group that she and her husband had signed a letter of objection, admittedly some years ago with other local residents to ask Evangeline Parish to stop any further zoning development to be carried out along the track that they all lived on. When he had delivered this statement there was a lot of shaking of heads from the objectors and Marjorie Baptiste face flushed in embarrassment. ‘That’s one supporter views knocked out completely’, Samuel thought to himself. He paused for a couple of moments to allow the embarrassment to linger before continuing. He then outlined succinctly all of his points of objection, the danger of the track, past refusals of zoning certification due to the condition of the track, the conservation area of Lokchapi that would be effected by the increase in traffic, and the location of the site across the mouth of the bayou from his home that was within the Lake Cavelier National Park. He also questioned the validity of supporting points raised by Mr. Clarke, Mr. Meek and Mr. Carouse, stating that they were in non compliance with local zoning policy and state and nation laws.
As Samuel was finishing his very brief focused delivery, he noticed that the objectors and supporters including the Johnson Family were all listening intently, as were a couple of the zoning committee members. However it was noticeable that more than half of the committee, the officials and the agent for the Johnson’s seemed to be ignoring what he was saying, chatting quietly amongst themselves or looking around them in a distracted fashion, they seemed uninterested and bored.
‘I’m being well and truly screwed’, Samuel though as he finished speaking and rejoined the group.
The chairman stepped forward for the last time of day and thanked everyone for turning up, staying calm and putting across their points in as a concise a manner as they could. He then went on to remind everyone that the committee meeting would be in twelve days time starting at ten am at the Town Hall and joked that he liked the odd gator burger and owned a fine pair of gator skinned boots himself. Samuel though this comment a little strange and to say the least not very impartial. This further reinforced his suspicions about the direction that the application was taking and also how the committee members where leaning regarding their support for the application. It seemed to him that they had already made up their minds.
‘Fuck those bastards’, he thought as he walked back with the dispersing crowd to the assortment of cars and pickups that awaited them. He quickly threw his folder in through the open window of his pickup, jumped in and started the engine, reversed back from where he was parked in the shade of a giantTupelotree disappearing off along the track towards home before any of the others had even started their engines. As he drove in and out of the shade of the mixed Cypresses and Tupelo’s his thoughts ricocheted around inside his skull, his anger rose and his mood plummeted, by the time he pulled up onto his drive some five minutes later he was in a foul mood.
The early optimism of the day had evaporated like the early morning dew and mists that cannot stand the onslaught of the suns rays and rising temperatures. He jumped out of his pickup, slammed the door behind him and stomped off across to his side gate where he crashed through slamming it behind him. Pooh and Moo who were both waiting tails wagging with toys in their mouths dropped their ears back and slunk along behind Samuel, heads down, tails slowly wagging across the lawn, up the steps onto the veranda were Samuel flung open his back door and marched into the kitchen. He threw his folder down onto the kitchen table, waited a second or two for Pooh and Moo to enter the kitchen with him before slamming the back door with a resounding bang. Both Pooh and Moo took up positions in their beds looking quizzically up at Samuel. He glanced around and saw the expressions of his two best friends and momentarily jerked himself out of the tornado of a mood that was enveloping him.
“It’s ok boys…, it’s ok.”
He said in a cheerful voice, bending down to pat each dog on his head and give each one a quick tickle behind their ears. Moo responded with furious tail wagging, his ears sprang back up to their normal position and he sat upon his bed looking happy. Pooh rolled over on his back to get a tummy tickle to which Samuel obliged, with the tickle finished Pooh then rolled back over onto his front and lay contentedly with his chin resting on the side of the bed, his eyes following Samuel’s every move around the kitchen.
Samuel’s outward mood calmed somewhat after noticing his dogs slight distress, and the interaction with them for a minute or so of ear tickling, stroking and patting enforced this outward calm. However, inside his mind a cacophony of thoughts cascaded down and reverberated around all at once. Thoughts of his objections, thoughts of the lies told by the zoning officer, the Johnson’s agent and the Town Hall business advisor, not to speak of the slime that poured forth from the mouth of Mr. Meek, all these thoughts vied for his conscious attention. This pattern of thinking was joined by electrifying jolts of anger, hate, distrust, cynicism; loathing, frustration and complete disbelief at their ability to openly lie and to cap it all show not the slightest interest in what the objectors had to say.
“Fuckers!,…., the lot of them ,fuckin pricks.”
He spat though clenched teeth as he stood waiting for the kettle to boil. SJ had heard his return, and then the succession of the slamming pickup door, side gate and kitchen door told her that Samuel was not happy. She grimaced inwardly whilst smiling outwardly while she cut the fringe of her second client of the day. All had gone quiet in the house, ‘Was this a good sign or a bad sign’, she thought to herself as she combed out the side of her clients hair before picking up the thinning scissors and continuing on with her styling. With only fifteen minutes or so to go before she finished her current client she tried to put Samuels’s home coming out of her mind. She had a forty minute break before her third customer and she would go through and see how the morning’s site visit had gone. With that last thought she returned to small talk with her client.
Samuel’s intention to go to work once the site visit was over had evaporated, any enthusiasm he had, had fizzled out as he drove the short distance home some ten minutes earlier. His mind was now a bubbling sea of thoughts and emotions that boiled away feeding a deepening mood and rising anger. It was so intense that his conscious thoughts were completely overcome and his mind went blank. He stood at the boiled kettle, his mug next to it with coffee and two sugars’ in the bottom awaiting the boiling water to be poured but nothing came. Samuel stood there motionless at the counter, his eyes open but seeing nothing, his mind blank, his senses shut off, all the while the turmoil raged within.
With her second client finished and happily on her way, SJ made her way into the house from her studio,
‘No noise, no crashing, banging or swearing, maybe things are fine’, she dared to think. She then opened the kitchen door to be greeted by two wagging dogs and Samuel who was standing opposite with his back to her.
“Hi Samuel, how did it go this morning?”
She asked in her cheeriest of voices, but she got no reply, Samuel didn’t even flinch, not a movement.
“Samuel are you ok?”
She asked as she approached him, but still no reply.
She held out her hand and tapped him lightly on his shoulder
“Samuel are you ok!?”
She asked for the second time, this time a little louder and with a strain of concern in her voice.
Samuel twitched; her touch and raised voice had rescued his conscious thoughts from within its prison, which in turn released him from his torpid state. With his limbs reanimated, his senses restored and his conscious thoughts starting to function, he turned slowly and answered
“Umm…., Yeah…., I…, was…, just thinking, thinking about this morning, umm and how it all went.”
He lied, realizing as he fully returned to the here and now that he had been off somewhere distant in his mind. He didn’t know for how long, but he knew he had been engulfed in some other world for a time.
As his body swung fully around and SJ saw Samuel’s face her heart sank, his eyes were gone, dark and distant, staring through squinting eyelids out into the world as if blinded by some dazzling illumination.
SJ tried to make light of the situation and didn’t mention his lack of response to her, she recognized the signs and thought that she would say as little as possible and gauge the situation over the next five minutes or so.
“Well…, how did it all go this morning? Any success or is it to early to say?”
She asked hoping for a positive response but not expecting one.
Samuel answered in a monotone voice,
“Well everyone had their say, the zoning officer lied, the agent lied, the business advisor lied…., there were about four supporters who all spoke and seven or eight of us who were objecting who also spoke, but they were not interested in listening ……, half of them couldn’t be bothered to show any interest in what we were saying as objectors.
Oh Samuel that doesn’t seem fair
“Fair!! Fair, they don’t know the meaning of fair or impartial, they’re all corrupt the lot of them if you ask me, back hander’s I should think…. ,You point out policy based points that the application does not comply with and they get ignored and as for that Slime ball Meeks, the highways guy, what a complete dickhead.”
Samuel’s anger was rising and rising fast, he was getting agitated and clenched and reopened his fists over and over.
“Motherfuckin cunts.”
He exploded in a shower of spittle and hate that came from a face contorted with rage.
“Samuel calm down ……, don’t let them get to you.”
SJ said, putting her hand lovingly on his shoulder then stroking the side of his face.
“Sit down and I’ll pour us a drink,….I’m having a cold lemonade, I see you’re making coffee, aren’t you a bit hot for coffee?”
She asked of Samuel who stood with his eyes clenched tightly shut grinding his teeth together as blow after blow of rage , anger and frustration hit him in the temple like a champion heavyweight boxer. Samuel blinked and opened his eyes wide at her touch and soothing tone.
“Drink…, yes I’d love one, umm,… a coffee would be great and I’ll also have a lemonade for after.” He said as he pulled out a chair and sat heavily down at the table.
While SJ prepared the drinks for them both Samuel’s temper subsided again, his rational conscious thoughts suppressed his anger, and rage and a calmer mood spread over him, although a darkness and oppressive foreboding still hung heavily and like a summer thunderstorm it slowly built up its strength.
They sat chatting for about half an hour about the zoning application and the up and coming zoning committee meeting, Samuel voiced his concerns and fears that the committee did not seem overly impartial, but admitted that he would have to wait until the day of the committee to see how things played out. For her part SJ encouraged Samuel and told him that all he could do was his best, and from what she had read from his investigation into the local, state and national zoning laws she thought that it was plain that the application from the Johnsons did not comply at all. She told him that she was proud of his efforts and that Samuel should not get to up tight about the whole situation.
The door bell of SJ’s salon rang to announce her next client.
“Got to go she said.”
As she stood up from the table and left Samuel alone with his thoughts.
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
