Chapter 37 Final Preperation
Samuel awoke to the sound of rain pouring down from the heavens, dancing on his wooden shingled roof and lashing against the glass of his bedroom window. As he lifted his head to look across to his rain battered window a bolt of pain seared the back of his eyeballs as it raced from one temple to the other, this was quickly followed by a tortuous throbbing spasm within his skull that pounded away like an out of control steam hammer. He screwed up his eyeballs, gritted his teeth and collapsed back down into the softness of his pillow trying to escape the thunderous onslaught, but it was no good, this was a hangover to beat all hangovers.
Early in the afternoon the day before Samuel had returned to Malase by himself to help his friends clear up after the thoroughly enjoyable and quite wild weekend. He had helped dismantle the small stage, picked up bottles and cans, stacked tables, anything that he was asked to help with he did. By six pm just before dusk fell they had finished all of their tidying and everyone sat around chatting and laughing about the fun that they had just had that weekend. Before long a couple of bottles of shine were produced, then some bottles of whiskey appeared, then a crate of beer was brought out and shared around. The talking and laughing lubricated by the readily available alcohol continued and before anyone knew it it was past midnight. Samuel caught a ride home with Treacle and Cuzn Booee, Treacle was behind the wheel doing his best to keep the pickup on the dirt track, a task that he was only just managing as his mind battled against the high alcohol levels that coursed through his veins.
Samuel lay on his back in the back of the pickup blissfully unaware of how many times they nearly left the track as the pickup slew along through the darkness. He slid from side to side bouncing off of had metal interior panels of the pickup, watching the stars flash past through the overhanging canopy as they sped along. They slithered to a stop outside Samuel’s house in a cloud of dust and flying stones, Treacle honked the horn and leaned out of his window and banged this door hard,
“Weeze, he-ya, time t’get out Samuel.”
He shouted as he banged.
Samuel sat up and pulled himself to his feet, he swayed momentarily before launching himself over the tailgate into the darkness. Surprisingly he landed on his feet facing back along the track from where they had just come; slightly disorientated he held out his right hand and steadied himself against the tailgate. He looked around for a few moments before his mind registered his house lights to his left. He swung himself to his left and strode around the right rear of the pickup with a wide staggering gait. He banged twice on the side of the pickup before shouting
“Thanks boys.”
Then with total abandon he set off from the track towards the lights of home. The pickup revved its engine before snaking off into the darkness, in the process its spinning back wheels completely showered Samuel with dust and stone shrapnel. This completely confused his alcohol drenched brain and lead to the first fall in his epic journey between the track and his back door. By the time he lurched into his kitchen he had fallen over a dozen times, torn his jeans, grazed the knuckles on his left hand and had a five inch cut running down his left cheek.
SJ had heard the pickup drop Samuel off and then listened as a series of bangs, crashes and yelps had plotted his route across the front lawn, around to the side of the house, through the side gate, across the rear lawn and up the steps onto their verandah. As he struggled to get his key into the spiraling door lock, she was there to open it for him and guide him into the safety of home. He was completely annihilated and SJ had to muster all her strength and balance to help steer the teetering Samuel through the house up the stairs and onto his bed. As SJ maneuvered Samuel in through his bedroom door towards his bed both Pooh and Moo got up from their beds with tails wagging and came over to inspect their swaying master. They did not seem that impressed with the state that he was in, they both sniffed at him and Pooh delivered one of his almost human looks. He looked up at Samuel, seemed to nod his head in a disapproving manner then turned away and returned to the comfort of his own bed. For his part Moo kept pacing up and down wagging his tail as he went, but as soon as SJ had deposited Samuel onto his bed and left the room he also quickly returned to his own bed and within minutes was snoring. SJ returned after a few moments with some cotton wool and warm water and cleaned the cut on Samuel’s face before applying a little antiseptic lotion, it wasn’t a deep cut more of a scratch than anything.
While his morning hangover pounded Samuel lay quietly for another ten minutes or so summoning up the courage to sit up, when he finally did he braced himself for the thumping onslaught that he knew was coming. When it hit him he visibly grimaced and let out a groan, which alerted both Pooh and Moo that their master was awake and getting up. In a whirlwind of snorting, wagging tails and flapping ears they grabbed a toy each in their soft mouths and both leaped up onto Samuels’s bed to say ‘good morning’, Samuel gingerly swung his legs over the side of the bed and put his face in his hands groaning as both the ‘boys’ bounced happily around behind his tortured body.
It took Samuel a full ten minutes to get dressed and go down to the kitchen to let Pooh and Moo out into the garden. His first mission was to guzzle down a container full of fruit juice then put the kettle on for a strong mug of coffee.
While the kettle boiled he sat slumped at the kitchen table with his head in his hands. SJ had been up for half an hour and breezed into the kitchen, happy, wide awake and full of get up and go.
“Mornin Mr. Noisy Stumblearound have we got a bit of a sore head this morning?”
She asked in mock sympathy.
“Urrg………….., yes…, you could say that…..,can you pour my coffee please I daren’t move at the moment.”
He mumbled from behind his hands.
“No problem Mr. Grumble.”
SJ said with a laugh before pouring them both a dark coffee, she placed Samuel’s mug in front of his slumped head and sat down next to him at the table.
“Well what’s the plan for today then Samuel? This rain is in for the day according to this mornings forecast…………So what are you planning to do?”
Umm… I’ve, got, the arr….. Umm, our zoning presentation to finish editing and get the full version ready to e-mail to all of the zoning committee members….. Oh I needed that.”
He said as the strong sweet and dark coffee flowed down his throat.
“That should be fun with the state your head is in this morning … Anyway I’m glad you’re writing it not me… I don’t know how you understand all of those zoning laws and policies that you’ve been research the last few weeks, … and as for actually identifying the flaws in their application and writing a short presentation that says all you need to say, … well I take my hat off to you I really do.”
“Umm … thanks.”
Samuel replied before slurping another mouthful of coffee.
“Well I’ve got work to be getting on with, my first client will be here in fifteen minutes.”
SJ said as she stood up from the table with coffee in hand.
Samuel sat quietly drinking his coffee, wishing he hadn’t drunk so much in Malase the previous night and cursing his age, when he was in his prime he could go out drinking five nights a week and get up fresh as a daisy the next day for work. No hangover at all, all he needed was a quick shower, breakfast and coffee and off to work he would happily go.
These days however were different, as he fast approached his fiftieth birthday drinking always had an effect. Even a couple of beers on a mid week evening would result in a headache and general grogginess the next day, anything more would result in a hangover and a good drinking session would trigger a hangover that could easily last for three days. This was the type of hangover he was now experiencing, his body ached down to the bone all over, his head pounded, his eyes ached, and even his teeth got in on the act by shooting random pains along his jaw line up to his temple. His hands and fingers trembled, bright light stung his eyes, his stomach resembled a bubbling cauldron in both the noise it was making and also how it felt and at times he hallucinated. Dark shapes darted across his peripheral vision or strange sparkling flashes danced around in front of him until he blinked and shook his head then all would disappear waiting to reappear when he was least expecting it. Samuel knew from experience that he could ether curl up in a ball and suffer or get loads of fluid and fresh food inside him and over the course of the coming day the effects would decrease until he was left with a headache and general nausea for thirty six hours. He though about the two options briefly before opting for the get on with it option. Now his mind was decided he got up made himself another coffee and some toast, which he smothered in peanut butter and salad cream before trudging out of the kitchen into his study where he slumped down in front of his computer. While it whirred slowly into life he ate his toast and drank his second coffee of the morning.
By the time Jason surfaced from his bedroom just after noon, Samuel was in full flow, his mind had battled valiantly for the first hour at his computer fighting the ever powerful hangover but eventually his mental strength and determination won over and the pounding head and unnerving hallucinations faded into the background.
“Hi Dad,… crap day out today I though you’d be at home.”
Jason said as he stuck his head into the room.
“Hi Jason, you up to much today?”
Samuel replied as he stopped his typing momentarily and turned to speak to Jason.
“Na, Jenny might come over later but I’m flat broke at the moment.”
“You need to get a part time job Jason, mom and I have both told you.”
“Yeah I know I’m just enjoying summer break, I’ll be back at college in no time an I’ll get one then.”
Jason replied before heading off toward the kitchen in search of food.
“Ju’want another coffee Dad?”
Jason shouted from the kitchen as he trawled the cupboards looking for something to fill his empty stomach.
“Please.”
Samuel shouted back as he feverously typed away, editing, re-editing each time paring down the content whilst trying to keep the message.
By mid afternoon Samuel had completely re-edited the long version of his presentation ready for e-mailing it to the committee. He had also reduced his spoken presentation to what he thought was its minimum. He had identified all of the parts in the zoning application that were in non compliance with all appropriate zoning laws and local zoning policies. He even referenced state wide zoning, highways and conservation policies and guidelines and included the relevant federal laws. He described in detail the zoning history of the site and all other zoning applications that were serviced by the track outside his home, in each case stating why they had been refused. He identified a highways audit that identified the track as dangerous, substandard and unsuitable to support further development that would generate vehicular traffic and concisely worded his and SJ’s personal objections. He finished off by describing the detrimental environmental effects that such a commercial development would have in such a beautiful quiet location that was in a state park and accessed by a track that ran through Lokchapi’s conservation area.
On the first read through Samuel timed his oral presentation to be still six minutes long, he needed to get it down to about four minutes maximum, as that is all he would be allowed as a public objector at the Zoning Committee Meeting.
Dusk was starting to close in as Samuel heard SJ cleaning her studio and vacuuming its floor, he stretched and leaned back on his chair. He had finished at last, he was mentally exhausted but had a pleasant feeling of satisfaction, his tiresome task had been successfully completed even with a horrendous hangover, also it was only a couple of days to go until the committee meeting and he was all prepared, he could relax a little. The presentation now ran to four minutes and eighteen seconds, contained every instance where the application was in non compliance with a zoning law, policy or guideline, referenced past zoning histories, highways audit information, their own objections and the national park and conservation area demarcations that would be effected.
As Samuel wriggled around on his chair trying to get some circulation back into his numb butt Pooh and Moo both stirred from their deep sleep. Pooh’s tail wagged slowly up and down as he lay on an old leather sofa behind his master and Moo jumped up from off of the floor and went in search of a toy. Toy found, Moo came busily wagging back into the room doing his best to attract his masters’ attention by thrusting a squeaky plastic toy shoe into Samuel’s lap. Samuel patted him gently on his head and tickled behind his right ear as he re-read his presentation for the final time. Satisfied with his work he saved it and for good measure saved it to his pen drive just in case his old unstable computer decided to stop working, this was one of his slightly OCD moments again.
Just like Samuel Kennedy, the various local government officials and some local advisors who all had stakes in the success of various zoning applications that would be decided at the up and coming zoning committee meeting spent that rain soaked day at their computers. It was not a day to be out and about, so sitting in the comfort of their own dry offices with plentiful supplies of coffee suited each of them down to the ground.
Jeb Clarke spent the day running through the five different applications that he fully supported and had recommended to approve. Checking all of the details were correct, reviewing the details of all objections made and making sure for the last time for each separate application that his recommendations to approve were supported by zoning law and policy. Where it was not so obviously supported by law or policy he developed the wording of each small presentation in such a way to make light of these areas and concentrate on any and all positives he could find. He would even resort to lying, falsifying advice and ignoring zoning laws and policies where it suited him.
He had become very proficient over the years at doing this and often thought, spurred on by his inflated ego that he should have been some kind of high flying Supreme Court lawyer. Throughout the day he made several different phone calls to and received several different phone calls from Clive Meek, his boss Herbert Mouton, Benjamin Carouse, Aaron Gant, and Kendrick Toup. These calls were to verify certain points, agree a unified approach, and to make sure that their professional opinions and advice all hung together and would stand up to the questioning and examination of the committee. They all had different levels of interest in the total of seven applications that the zoning committee would hear; every approved zoning application recommended by the committee would deliver a financial reward to one or more of the six co-conspirators. He also called the Johnson’s with some advice as theirs was going to be a tricky application to get approved.
Completely out of the blue a call came in from Donald Chadwick, he gave Jeb a quick update on the Akendo’s project and its progress and asked if he would be available in the next week or so to attend a project meeting. Jeb confirmed that he was not going anywhere and thanked Donald for the update
Aside from the money that was to be made on the Akendo project, by far the most lucrative small scale zoning application for them as a group was the one at Lokchapi to construct an alligator farm, but at the same time it was the most troublesome. For the first time since any of them could remember they had come across an individual objector who had not only expertly dissected the application itself, but also constructed a very detailed and well written document objecting to the application on zoning law and policy based grounds as well as highways safety issues. These objections would be very difficult to overcome but if they all stuck together and played a few dirty tricks then they were all sure that they would come out on top.
Herbert Mouton spent his day reading the papers, surfing the internet, responding to a couple of calls that came in from Jeb and Kendrick Toup and completing some office administration, paper work that he found boring and tedious, but he knew it needed doing and doing well. It was he after all that with his meticulous administration of his department, falsifying of reports and statistics and devious methods of operation had kept the zoning department’s gravy train running smoothly for so many years. As far as the powers that be were concerned Herbert Mouton was an efficient manager, with a good team of zoning officials and clerks who administered the Evangeline’s zoning policies without any fuss. It was just as he wanted it to seem to any observer, a sleepy little department in a sleepy Parish in midLouisianajust getting on with their jobs. He never rocked the boat, he kept costs down and to all intense and purposes was a little grey man in the background, a Mr. Nobody and that’s just how he liked it.
He stared out of his window as he rain coursed down the outside of the glass, distorting his view of the world outside. The street below was quiet, the occasional car splashed past through the torrent but apart from that the street was empty. He, like the others had much to gain from the zoning committee decisions and had done his best to bend the ear of as many committee members as possible over the last week, doing his best to subtly steer their decisions. He was quite a smooth operator, he was never overbearing, a jovial man and very unassuming, he had however learned over the years what to say to different members of the committee to get them to move over to his way of thinking. Ultimately he hoped he could get them to vote to pass the applications he wanted passed, if not he knew Jeb’s persuasive bending of zoning policy and law, exaggeration of benefit and complete negation of harmful factors would usually win the day. He had faith in Jeb’s ability to stand up at committee and lie convincingly and keep up the charade even under intense questioning from committee members. He chuckled to himself as he thought of some of the out and out howlers Jeb had delivered to committee and got away with and then thought that if that was not good enough there was always the greasing of palms that was expertly delivered by either Toup or Gant. He thought both of them were slime balls but they were good at what they did and with their help it was a very rare occasion when the committee did not vote the way that Herbert and his accomplices wanted.
Clive Meeks did as little as possible, he sat in his office playing a couple of different on-line gambling games, watched a lot of porn and took calls from his other co-conspirators to answer questions or reaffirmed his highways advice and recommendations . He also assured all of them that he knew what to say and how to say it. He like the others had much to gain from the up and coming decisions of the zoning committee so he at least made sure that he could support his highways advice and recommendations if questioned by committee. That is even if his replies would not be covered by policy or were lawful; he like the others was a seasoned liar and knew how to pull the wool over the eyes of these bureaucratic inquisitors. By four in the afternoon Clive was becoming restless, it was not normal for him to be in his office all day so he shut down his computer and made some weak excuse to the rest of his team and left the office en route for MacDonald’s.
Aaron Gant arrived at his office early and got straight on with his work, he had a very busy day ahead of him. He had just secured four new contracts for proposed developments, all of them on the outskirts of towns and all of them in very contentious locations. These contracts he loved, he would be able to make a financial killing himself and the rest of his colleagues would also earn well out of these deals. These new proposals were all for at least fifty new homes apiece and were located just outside of Ville Platte, Spicebridge, Pine Prairie and Mamou. He was at work early because he wanted to get ahead with the four contracts and knew from past experience that his day would be interrupted almost continually as calls came in from Jeb, Benjamin, Clive possibly Herbert and definitely Kendrick. It was always the same when a zoning committee was coming up in Evangeline, and as he usually had his finger in a number of pies that would be under the committee’s discussion he would be needed to clarify or verify certain points or sometimes change his presentations.
He would sometimes have to ask detailed zoning policy advice and agree with Jeb how far they could bend the truth without being compromised. He was quite surprised that his first call of the day was not anything to do with the up and coming zoning committee meeting but it was a call from Donald Chadwick, the Akendo CEO. He had not heard anything about the project for a couple of weeks and presumed everything was proceeding well and to his relief it was. Donald told him that he was just doing a quick informal update and as far as they were concerned everything was progressing smoothly. Aaron was relieved to hear that because this was a gold mine for them all and on top of that he did not want to have any more work asked of him at the moment because he was up to his eyeballs in it. Donald did ask however if Aaron was going to be around for the next week to ten days because there was likely to be a big Akendo project meeting that he would like him to attend and there were some areas were his specific skills would be needed. Aaron confirmed that he was going to be in town for a least the next month working away as usual so he would be available as and when needed. Donald thanked him and before he rang off he told Aaron that he would be speaking to Jeb, Benjamin and Kendrick later to give them a quick update. Aaron replaced the receiver, rubbed his hands together and smiled.
“Excellent”, he said to himself, unwittingly doing a very good impression that was a mixture of Scrooge and Mr. Burns, the character from the Simpsons show. Later in the day he remembered that he needed to call the Johnsons and give Mrs. Johnson some advice regarding her presentation at committee, he was surprised at some of the questions Mrs. Johnson asked because they seemed very intelligent questions to pose and he did not associate intelligence with either of the Johnsons.
Benjamin Carouse spent that rain soaked day down at the bayou fishing. He was always on top of his game and had no appointments booked that day so he took the opportunity to have for himself a day of solitude. He had found over the years that he caught more when it was raining and for the day his quarry was Largemouth Bass or Stripped Bass. If it went well he hoped to catch a couple of twenty to twenty five pound Stripped Bass and at least double the amount of seven to eight pound Largemouth Bass. These he would take home to eat, anything smaller he would return to the murky waters.
He had spent a couple of minutes erecting his camouflaged bivvy, stowed his gear inside and then a further five minutes rigging his tackle. Finally he sat back in his Bass Pro Sports Lounger and took out his hip flask and had a nip of whisky before settling down to a lazy days’ fishing. He had two rods, one he used with a float with worm bait and the second was his fly rod that that he would use to cast flies, small spinners or lures. For the time being the rain was too heavy for him to cast his fly rod out, so he baited the hook on his float rod, cast it out, settled back and waited.
He had his cell phone in his pocket and throughout the course of the morning took a couple of client calls which he quickly rescheduled to call them back the next day and as he expected there were calls from Jeb and Aaron and one particularly long call with Kendrick who was finalising some legal issues contained within two of Benjamin’s reports. By lunchtime he had caught three Largemouth Bass all of at least six and a half pounds and one small catfish of fifteen pounds, but the large stripped bass were eluding him. The torrential downpour of early morning had slowed slightly into a constant heavy unstopping rain that was still not allowing him to fly fish; it had not stopped for five hours now and looked as if it was in for the day. He was content, relaxed and starting to get hungry. He had just opened his lunch box when his cell phone rang again.
This time it was Donald Chadwick, just an update on the Akendo project, all was going well from what Benjamin could gather, he was also going to be needed at a project meeting within the next week or so, to which Benjamin confirmed that he would be able to attend but asked for a couple of days notice. Donald told him that as soon as work on the Akendo moved into its next phase then he would be one of the first to know. Donald thanked him for his time and said he looked forward to meeting soon and wished him good luck with his fishing.
With a contented smile Benjamin returned the cell to his pocket and took out a large chicken and mayo sandwich, he was just about to bite into it when the line on his float rod started pulling off the reel. The reel whirred with its drag mechanism fighting to slow the line as a fish somewhere out in the rain soaked gloom tried to escape the hook that had stabbed through the side of its mouth. In one swift and graceful movement Benjamin moved his right arm out and took up the rod from its rest, striking the line taught and hopefully driving the hook home. His rod bent nearly double and his reel screamed as the fish ran from the open waters of the middle of the bayou for the reed and eel grass fringed banks. Here it could seek shelter in amongst the leaves and runners of the eel grass and stout stems of the reeds. It was certainly a big fish and Benjamin fought hard with it for almost fifteen minutes until he finally tired it out. He succeeded in stopping it in its rush for the shelter of the reeds and grasses but had to fight it every inch of the way until he finally landed it.
He had caught a massive thirty two pound Stripped Bass, once he had weighed it, he took a picture and quickly and skilfully killed it with an expert blow to its head, he then put it in his large ice box with the much smaller Largemouth Bass he had caught and then returned to his chair. While he had been playing this monster of a fish his cell phone had been ringing almost incessantly, call after call after call.
On the other end was Kendrick Toup who was growing angrier by the minute with every unanswered call he made. Benjamin picked up his discarded sandwich and dusted off some dirt and grass and took a huge bite and as he ate he took his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and opened it, twelve missed calls and all from Kendrick.
‘Well he can just wait a minute or so’, Benjamin thought to himself as he finished his sandwich and quenched his thirst with another nip of whiskey. Before he had returned his hip flask to his inner pocket his cell phone rang again, he opened it, it was Kendrick calling so reluctantly he answered.
“Kendrick, what can I do for you?”
He said in a calm relaxed voice.
“What can you do? What can you do, I’ll tell you what you can fuckin do Carouse, you can answer your fuckin phone when I call you that’s what you can fuckin do!”
With that Benjamin pressed the end button on his cell phone, returned it to his pocket, took up his rod, baited the hook with a fat juicy worm and cast it out onto the rain spattered waters of the bayou. He settled back in his chair with not a care in the world.
Tomorrow he would call Toup, until then that little obnoxious man with the tongue of the devil could stew in his own juices’, he thought as he watched his float sway and bob under the deluge of rain that continued to fall. Kendrick Toup blew a fuse, threw his phone across his office and stormed out down the corridor leaving a trail of expletives drifting along in his wake.
For Kendrick the day had been hectic in the extreme, he had taken on more work than he could deal with effectively and had so many scams running that he was in danger of loosing control of them. He had all manner of illegitimate deals going, skimming client’s accounts, overcharging, bribing officials, skimming oil lease accounts, corrupt land deals, corrupt commercial business dealings and all of this was on top of his legitimate outwardly honest work as a senior commercial lawyer. Then to add to his headache he had to provide his legal advice on a number of local zoning applications and he knew that because the committee was only days away that he would need to make sure that from his point of view all the i’s were dotted and t’s crossed. This would entail endless phone calls with Clive, Jeb, Aaron, Benjamin and possibly Herbert as well as speaking directly to the clients more often than not. What annoyed him so much was that it was always the same, the rest of his co-conspirators always left the finalising of all zoning application that were at the committee stage until the last minute, which stressed him out completely. He was used to getting on with things and getting them done quickly and accurately first time. What he did not understand was why it always worked out this way because they would all meet and discuss various aspects of different zoning applications and agree what would be said by whom. They would agree what needed to be written in reports, he would provide the legal support and guidance almost immediately but for some unknown reason each case would not be finalised until the day before committee and in some instance they would still be finalising matters in the corridor outside the Town Hall meeting chambers. He often wondered if it was all worth it as compared to some of his other dealings this was chicken feed, nickel and dime work he often called it but keeping in with this group did have its benefits.
The Akendo project was on example, knowing all of these people would allow him to grease the wheels of the project sufficiently to allow the project to proceed without any hiccups and it would provide a massive financial payout for him. On top of what he had agreed as his split with the rest of them he had another more lucrative stream of money to earn from the project. Once the development had actually started then he would be the anchor man behind the scenes managing any and all legal issues that arose, Aaron, Benjamin, Herbert and Clive would be irrelevant then as their work would have been done but Jeb may still be needed as the project went forward. This was because there were normally many changes or additions to plans on such large scale developments but for him the money lay in his subtle and surreptitious overcharging and client account skimming. He had calculated, based on past experience and without being greedy that by the time the project was due to be completed in four years time that he would be between two and three and a half million dollars better off.
Billy-Bob and Mary-Jo awoke late in the day, both hung-over and hungry. They had spent the entire weekend completely chugged full of alcohol, mainly, shine and whiskey which they had supplemented with the occasional beer to dilute their blood alcohol levels a little. During drinking sessions like these they both had high levels of blood in the alcohol in that coursed through their veins. Ethan and Joshua had both done their best to keep up with their parents drinking but had both succumbed on the Sunday afternoon and were still buried beneath their quilts almost twenty four hours later. Zachary on the other hand had drunk very little and had one by one steered both his parent home on the Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights. It was Zachary who opened their bedroom door and peered in.
“Ma, Pa I got two big strong cawfee’s here for yuh, so get up in bed an drink em cos idden it the day that you both been wantin to work on yuh zoning stuff fuh that portant meetin that’s comin up?”
Mary-Jo sat up and squinted as Zachary turned on the light and walked into the bedroom with the strong steaming coffees.
“Thanks Zac Auh’m fixin to get muh ass outta bed an do my pre-sen-tashun soon as muh head stops bangin an when Auh don’t feel so addled.”
Zachary gave his mom one mug and set the other one down on a small wooden shelf next to his pa’s side of the bed. Billy-Bob groaned and turned over burying his head under his pillow.
“Not out Zac?”
Mary-Jo asked of her youngest and most thoughtful son.
Nah, ma Auh aims tuh go an meet Loretta an study some cos after summers up we got some reel portant science zams… But just listen to that rain pourin outside, Auh’d be soaked to the skin for Auh gets half way along tuh Louchap so I’ll just sit an read some ad home.”
“Yuh sure is a clever’un Zac, enjoy yuh readin and thanks fuh the cawfee.”
She said as Zachary turned and left his hung-over parents and the gloom of the stale bedroom.
It took another two hours for Billy-Bob and Mary-Jo to surface. Both of their heads pounded and even moving seemed like a difficult task to complete. They both sat at their kitchen table silent and motionless for about ten minutes before Billy-Bob announced,
“Knows what? Auh sure is thirsty an is needin a glayus of juice or Sebmup.”
Mary-Jo nodded her head in agreement and rose slowly from the table, she winced from the noise of the rain as it battered the wooden roof of their kitchen. In slow motion and walking as if stepping on eggshells she slowly and deliberately made her way the short distance from her seat at the table to the refrigerator. She opened it and pulled out a cold six pack of Seven-Up bottles and for good measure a six pack of cold beers.
She slowly and carefully made her way back , placed the drinks in the middle of the table and sat down gingerly. Billy Bob lifted his head, pulled one of the Seven-Up bottles from its pack
“Got a bottle open-uh Mary-Jo?”
Billy-bob asked.
“Nuh.”
So Billy-bob lifted the bottle to his mouth, took the cap between his upper right canine tooth and lower teeth and bit hard, with a ‘Phssssssttttt’, and a cascade of bubbles that flowed freely down his chin the bottle opened. Billy-Bob spat out the bottle cap and guzzled greedily. He finished three bottles before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and announced the quenching of his thirst with a loud ‘Buuuuuuuurrrrraaaauubbbb’, of a belch that expelled the sudden intake of carbon dioxide along with the stagnant vapours of his stomach.
Mary-Jo gagged as the fusty odour sank over her like an autumn mist, she jumped up from the table, dry heaving all the way to the door. Just in time she opened it and sent a fountain of brown whiskey smelling vomit in almost a perfect arc out across her porch. It cascaded down the rain soaked steps staining the puddles with an almost gas colored rainbow on the surface of the water. As she stood at the door retching Billy-Bob sat laughing fit to burst. He leaned forward picked up a cold bottle of LA31 Pale Ale and as with the bottles of Seven-Up dispensed with the bottle cap with a well practiced bite. Over the course of the weekend Billy-Bob had managed to liberate many different beers from their owners and as a result their refrigerator, their cupboards and practically any available storage space was filled with an assortment of local craft beers and ales, some home brew and the usual grocery store offerings. His favourites at the moment was a pale ale called Voodoo Bengal pale Ale and the dark and strong Santo Black Kolsch.
Mary-Jo returned to the table after a minute or so at the door, she sat down, drank a bottle of Seven-Up that Billy-Bob had opened for her, then stayed motionless silently trying to summon up the energy and mental strength to start writing her short speech to the committee.
Billy-Bob pushed her cell phone across the table towards her.
“Youze got a mighty load a missed calls an them is all from that misduh Gant.”
Billy-Bob said as she stared blankly at him. Mary-Jo picked up her cell phone and scanned through the missed calls and text messages. Apparently Mr. Gant and Mr. Clark had been trying to contact her all morning.
“Auh got the awflset head on muh shoulduhs Billy-Bob can’t you call these folks?”
Billy-Bob sat completely still apart from his head which he shook slowly from side to side.
“Nope.”
He replied in between slurps of beer.
“God dammid, Auh’ve been doin everthing about this an that to get ourne application passed an youze just sit on yuh fat old ass doin diddley-squat.”
She breathed through clenched teeth. With a scowl on her face she started pressing the numbers on her cell phone key pad and before she knew it was in deep conversation with Mr Gant. She scribbled furiously as he gave her more advice on what to say and what not to say and answered some of her questions. Before he rung off he told her not to worry as he had everything in hand and it was just a case of going through the motions. After that call she returned Mr. Clark’s call and spent a good fifteen minutes talking with him, again scribbling down notes on her pad of paper. By the time she had finished her two calls Billy-Bob had taken the remaining La 31 beers with him and retired back to bed. Mary-Jo cursed his laziness, she cursed the banging inside her head and she cursed the rain that drummed on the roof just above where she sat. But most of all she cursed having to write out a short speech and the fact that it would be her that would have to get up and do all of the talking at the committee meeting. Billy-Bob certainly wouldn’t so as usual it was left to her to sort out. By mid afternoon she had finished her writing, she had used a few suggestions that Mr Gant had made and also included some of the exact wording Mr. Clark advised her to use. Mentally exhausted she got up from the table and walked over to the kitchen window and looked out, the rain still poured outside dancing off of the porch railings, almost filling the ditch along the side of their shack and forming extremely large puddles in the clearing in the middle of Malase.
Chapter 38 Is it Alright?
Donald Chadwick sat back in his chair as he made his last call of the day, he waited for a while as the phone at the other end rang, it rang and rang and rang and he was just about to hang up when a soft voice answered.
“Hi, Lottie speaking.”
“Lottie, good to hear your voice, its Donald, how’s things with you?”
“Ahh, Donald I was wondering when I would be hearing from you, all is well with me thank you very much, how are things with you? Would be more to the point.”
“Yes you’re correct Lottie, that’s the purpose of the call, I have called around today as you advised and all of our targets are expecting to attend an Akendo project meeting in a week or so’s time and they have all confirmed their availability.”
“Great work Donald, I can set in motion the final steps of our plan now. I have spoken with my outlet three times this week confirming points with them, verifying information and going over the release and publication of the information …. All is going along very smoothly, there were a few jitters but I have smoothed all of them out and now it is just a matter of days.”
“Great, have you seen any of their output or are you leaving that entirely up to them.”
“Donald, I am surprised…. Of course I’ve seen their output, it is an extremely well written, focused piece of work with all of the facts we have established included, you know events, names, dates, connections, bank accounts, amounts of money …, it’s all there…. The whole entangled web is set out in black and white and I must admit it makes startling reading.”
“Fantastic, have you spoken to Bootsie?”
“No not yet, I was awaiting your call before I gave my final briefing to Bootsie, now I know our targets will all be around for the finale I can update Bootsie and give my outlet the final go.”
“Good job Lottie, Good job.”
“No Donald, Good job Donald, you have delivered your role sublimely and we are all nearly there now…, speak soon.”
Lottie replaced the receiver and walked out of the kitchen and into her study, she sat down at her desk and opened a plain manila folder simply marked Akendo, she then picked up the phone and dialled the number written on the first page of her open folder.
A young excited voice answered.
“Hi.”
“Hi, all I’ve got to say is it is a go, are you ready?”
Yes I am …. As agreed I’ll send you a copy twelve hours before I do anything else with it, then that will be it, once I release it, it’s gone”.
“Good…, good so when do you think it will be crafted into a piece of work that you can be proud of, I think what you have written so far and e-mailed to me looks fantastic.”
“I will be ready to send the fully completed and edited version to you in forty eight hours, is that ok?”
“That’s just fine…, I look forward to receiving it in forty eight hours, good luck and bye.”
Lottie replaced the receiver and sat quietly thinking for a couple of moments before picking up her phone and dialling a number she knew well, it rang twice before being answered.
A deep
“Hello.”
Boomed down the line.
“Hi Bootsie, I’ve got some good news, our targets in Evangeline are all in place for the foreseeable future and I have just given the final go for the completion of the last stage of our plan.”
“Hey Lottie I knew I could count on you.”
“Come now Bootsie you know it’s been a team effort as always.”
“Yes I know that Lottie but you have a certain way of orchestrating things……., you know how to make things happen from the shadows that always comes up trumps.”
“Well that is very kind of you Bootsie just rest assured the shit will hit the fan within the next ninety six hours and I am almost certain that we will be able to pop a few corks before the week is over.”
“Just what I wanted to hear Lottie, speak soon.”
With that Bootsie hung up his phone before picking it up again and making a few quick calls. He said little with each call, just a short,
“It’s on.”
And that was that.
Lottie closed her manila folder placed it in the uppermost drawer on the right of her desk and locked it; she then got up from her desk and walked out the room.
In the Couple of days since Jerome had visited her, Rebecca had been extremely busy, stressed and hyper. She had acted on Jerome’s advice and rang her contact to get more of her questions answered and she sat down with her parents and explained the situation that she found herself in. She told them about the elegant well spoken lady who had been a regular customer at Claudine’s Kitchen over the last few months and the proposition she had put to her. She explained the story in detail but kept out all of the names, she described how she was both excited and scared. Scared for her family more than anything, fully realising that the repercussions would be life changing and explaining that if she were to go ahead, once the story was published then she would have no control at all over the course of events that her actions would trigger. She also explained that some of these people involved were powerful people with high flying careers who probably would not take to kindly to being exposed. Both Rebecca’s parents listened to her outpourings in a hushed silence, they just let her talk and talk until she was done. Her mother was the first to respond, just seven simple words.
“Thank you for sharing this with us.”
Her father then sat forward and took his daughter’s hand between his and looked deep into her eyes.
“Rebecca firstly, your mother is right in thanking you for sharing this with us and being so concerned about the well being of the rest of your family. You have obviously thought this through and if I know anything about you it is that you will have researched this information each, which and every way until you were satisfied with its accuracy, reliability and credibility.”
Rebecca nodded to affirm what her father had just said, he continued.
“Now I know you still have some more questions that you want to ask your contact so I say you should ask them. I also know that you want the advice of Mr. Ashlock which I would say will determine whether you go ahead with it or not. He will put his professional eye over your work and either support you or advise you not to go any further with this thing. All I can say is that if he supports you great, then go for it and if he does not then ask him to explain to you why you should not, but, and I want you to listen carefully now Bec’s. If after all the advice you receive you feel deep down in your heart that you know it is something you should do and Mr Ashlock won’t publish then find someone else who will, whatever you decide to do we are one hundred percent behind you.
Rebecca grinned from ear to ear jumped up and gave both of her parents a big hug and kiss.
“Thank you sooo much for your support, ‘I’ve got loads to be getting on with .”
With that she ran out of their lounge, across the hallway and up the stairs to her bedroom. Laying flat on her back on her bed she removed her cell phone from her pocket and tapped out a number on the phones’ keypad, her body shock with nervous excitement as she waited for the phone to be answered.
William Ashlock, how can I be of service?”
“Oh Mr. Ashlock its Rebecca,…, I’ve got a…., err.., um…, .I’ve got a story that I would like you to give some advice on, can I meet up with you later?”
“Hello Rebecca, it’s good to hear from you but I am afraid that I’m extremely busy for the rest of the day, we’re out this evening then I’m out of state tomorrow till the next day, so it looks like it’ll have to wait a few days.”
Rebecca inadvertently let out a scream of frustration and anger.
“Oh I am sorry Mr. Ashlock, it’s just that I need your help, advice and guidance and I don’t think I can sit on this more than a few more hours or I’ll explode.”
William Ashlock’s journalistic antennae pricked.
“You’ve got something big haven’t you?…, I do not want to know what when or how over the phone, you just get yourself down to the office by six this evening and we’ll take it from there, is that ok?
A shriek of delight followed by another apology confirmed to William Ashlock that his suggestion was ok. Rebecca thanked him and rang off. William Ashcroft hung up his receiver and sat silently thinking, what could this bright, intelligent and gifted young journalist who was at the very, very beginning of her career have stumbled upon, the possibilities intrigued him until he was jolted back to the here and now by a knock on his office door.
Now Rebecca was on a role, as soon as she had finished her conversation with Mr Ashcroft, had stopped jumping around on her bed and quietened down a little she picked her cell phone up again and tapped out a number that was now seared across her mind. It rang twice before being answered by a man, this put Rebecca off momentarily before quickly gathering her wits
“Hello this is Rebecca I was trying to speak t,…, umm.., is this the right number for…um?”
“I am sure it is the right number young lady,…. hold the line, one moment please.”
And with that the line went silent for a few seconds before a voice she recognized spoke.
“Hello Rebecca how are you my dear?”
“Ohh thank god, … I mean I’m glad it’s you,….. I though I missed dialled or got your number wrong or something and I wasn’t expecting a man to answer.”
“It alright my dear, the number is right and this is me, my husband just heard my cell phone on the kitchen table and answered it ….. So how can I be of help?”
Rebecca explained that she had discussed everything with her parents but stressed that she had left out names and other incriminating details. She went on to say that her parents fully supported her and that she had arranged a meeting with Mr. Ashlock her boss at the paper, to get his advice, help and guidance and finally that she was eighty percent there with her article but she had some questions she needed answering.
“Well my dear take you time and ask what you like and I will answer them to my best abilities.” Rebecca started reading out her carefully considered questions and listened intently to each reply. In her journal she wrote down the exact wording of each answer to each question. The shorthand course that she had put herself through at night school was paying off. She noted whether her questions were answered quickly or if there was a pause before an answer was offered and when she had completed her list of questions she returned to the ones that had been answered after a pause and asked for an explanation for these pauses.
“You are certainly on the ball young lady, well done,…. Right I will run through the pauses and their associated questions, the first was to make sure that the reply I gave did not contain the name of my source, the second pause was to make sure that the monetary amounts you questioned were correct and the actual pause was while I brought up the appropriate document on my tablet. The third pause was because I was thinking through a well considered and reasoned response that was both factual, accurate as well as being supportive at the same time. The fourth was because I was putting myself momentarily in your position to asses if you had missed anything, and as I said you have not, Finally the last pause was simply old age my dear, I’m not a spring chicken like you any more and at times the grey matter is a little slow in accessing a memory or simply reacting at all.
At thirty seconds to six Rebecca knocked on Mr Ashlock’s office door
“Come in.”
Called a voice from behind the opaque glass.
Rebecca opened the door and went in, Mr Ashlock was sitting behind his desk staring at his computer screen and he looked up momentarily before returning to the screen.
“ Ah Rebecca, Please take a seat…., I’ll be with you in a moment.”
Rebecca pulled out the chair on the other side of the desk to Mr Ashlock, sat down and took her file, journal, Dictaphone and pen from her bag and set them down in front of her. While she waited she looked around d the walls of the dingy office, they were covered with framed photographs of Mr. Ashlock with all kinds of famous people. She had never bothered before to take in all the different photographs and news stories that covered three of the four walls almost completely from floor to ceiling. The were sports people, the most notable being Mohammed Ali, there was Will the ‘Thrill’ Clark and Rafael Palmeiro, two of Louisiana’s most famous baseball stars, presidents, Bill Clinton, George Bush snr, Ronald Reagan, activists like Malcolm X, Angela Davis and Jane Fonda, a picture of Mr. Ashlock and the crew of Apollo 13, and rock stars, The Beachboys, Iggy Pop, Dianna Ross, The Rolling Stones and John Denver to name but a few. As her eyes scoured the walls from top to bottom, she realised for the first time the breadth and depth of career that her boss had had in journalism. Alongside the photographs and headlined articles were awards for journalistic merit, in pride of place on the wall behind Mr. Ashlock’s chair were three faded school certificates, one was a third place in a ten mile cross country run, the second was second place in a ten mile cross country run and the middle one was first place in a ten mile cross country run. Rebecca was just puzzling over these certificates when Mr Ashlock looked up and caught her eye. He followed her gaze and turned to look up at the discoloured certificates on the wall behind his head.
“I hated running…, but to run distances you need two things stamina and determination…., I trained and trained and trained and as you can see managed to get placings.”
He turned back to face Rebecca.
“You must have been good.”
Rebecca remarked.
“It was not success straight away…, my first race was in 7th grade and I didn’t get anywhere until 9th grade when I got my third, then second the next year and in 11th grade I came first. You see I built up my stamina with training and my natural determination pushed me onwards each year…., something that I have found very useful in our world of journalism. You need the stamina to keep going, keep digging, you know.., to seek out the truth and you need the determination by the bucket full, you need to be dedicated to your craft to find that story and follow it, to live and breath it and to let the words flow straight out of your mind and onto the page without thought or effort.”
Rebecca was a little taken aback at first by her boss’s comment but after a second or two of awkward silence she spoke.
“So you didn’t find this job easy at first, is that what you are saying?”
Got it in one, I hated it at first, then I liked it, then I enjoyed it and now after all these years I cannot think of a better career to have lived, I still have to work at it though…., that’s what I was trying to say, it takes hard graft and dedication to be good in this game, ….that probably applies to most walks of life but …….., I just wanted you to know that I started out just like you and did alright but still to this day I have to work hard to stay on top of my game.”
Rebecca smiled as her boss delivered his kind words to her and he could see her physically relaxing in her chair as he spoke, her stiff shoulders slowly dropped and a smile crept across her mouth from one corner to the other.
“So how can I be of assistance?”
He continued.
“I presume that you have some sort of angle on something and would like some guidance?…. Am I correct?”
“Yes Mr. Ashlock you are, I’ve got this source you see that has provided me with this.”
With that she her opened her folder and turned it around towards Mr. Ashlock before gently pushing it across the desk towards him.
“Rebecca I think you have been coming in here long enough now to drop the Mr.…., William, please.”
He said as he picked up the folder and started to read.
“Ok, erm…William thank you.”
She replied in a mixture of unusual shyness and embarrassment.
Rebecca studied William’s face as he read, his facial features went from blank and expressionless to focussed with a furrowed brow in a matter of thirty seconds, he glanced up briefly before quickly looking back down at the file and continuing to read. He flipped the first page over and devoured the second page, then turned that over, looking up briefly again at Rebecca. She noticed that his demeanour had changed, he had gone from sitting behind his desk sort of slouching to sitting bolt upright, holding the file out in front of him as if it were heaven sent, his cheeks had flushed slightly and his eyes darted from line to line, page by page as his razor sharp mind whirred taking in all the information that his eyes fed to it.
He was so engrossed in Rebecca’s file that a knock at his office door went unanswered, his mobile and desk phones both rang as well but again these were left to click over to voice mail, he didn’t even flinch he just sat reading, glancing up now and again and reading. Rebecca sat silently studying her boss as he read, she quickly glanced down at her watch, he had been silently reading the file for fifteen minutes, as she looked up William slowly closed the file as if it were some delicate religious manuscript and with the same care laid it on the desk between them.
“So Rebecca where’s your copy.”
William said in a very controlled and calm voice.
“Oh.. , er.., it’s here.”
She replied as she opened her journal, retrieved a stapled A4 sized document and handed it across the desk. William took it, opened it, then sat there reading, this time he did not look up. He was frowning when he started to read, this then slowly changed into a sort of smile which turned into a broad smile and finally into a wide grin. When he had finished reading the article that Rebecca had crafted he again closed it carefully and placed it down on top of Rebecca’s file. He sat staring at Rebecca with the brightest, widest smile you could imagine, his whole face had lit up and his eyes sparkled.
“Well fuck me sideways Rebecca….. ,how the fuck?………… it’s just brilliant!! Absolutely one hundred percent fucking brilliant, I don’t know what else to say, the story itself is explosive, I mean its like sitting on a ton of dynamite right here in my office and as for your copy its sublime, the words dance across the page leading the reader deftly down into a web of corruption, then bam, bam you give it to them with both barrels. I must say I am stunned.”
Rebecca let out an excited giggle followed by an.
“Ooooh…, is it ok then?…, .I mean is it a goer?……., will you print it?…….I know it needs more work but I can get that all tied up in a day or so, will it go in on Saturday?”
“Print it, It’ll be printed in Saturday’s edition and Sunday’s and syndicated, I’ll put call’s out to The Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, USA Today, The LA Times, The Washington Post and the Times Picayune, they’ll eat this up, and you young lady expect to be busy, from here on in its going to start getting mad, very, very mad.”
Rebecca and William spent the next hour and one half discussing various points of the story, he probed her continually on the information and her sources looking for a crack to exploit but what ever angle he came in from she always had a tight, accurate and truthful answer. The story was solid. They then spent another two hours discussing the copy that Rebecca had written, William helped her out with some turns of phrase and wording and gently guided her to finesse it in her own words. He could have just sat back and said write this and write that and that is too wordy or that is confusing, but instead he pointed out areas where he thought she could improve and encouraged her to find a solution. It was ten o’clock when they finished and William’s cell phone had been ringing almost every quarter of an hour for the last couple of hours but he had ignored it. He flipped it open.
“Shit…, eleven missed calls from my wife, I think I’m going to be in the dog house tonight.”
“Oh William I am so sorry, I didn’t realise the time.”
“Please don’t be sorry Rebecca, a story like this has not excited me so much for almost thirty years…, I know that on Saturday and then in years to come I will be proud to say that I had just a small part in bringing this to our nation.”
Rebecca’s cheeks blushed deep red.
“It not that amazing surely William?”
“You will see, you will see, now you know what you need to get done to get this all wrapped up nicely so I will see you here in my office in forty eight hours with your completed copy on a memory stick please.”
William said as he started shutting down his computer and tidying his desk for the morning. Rebecca picked up her precious file, her journal, pen and unused Dictaphone, put them in her bag, jumped up and with a quick,
“Bye William.”
Was off out of the office, down the stairs and out into the hot sultry night air. Her heart was racing and a million and one thoughts were ricocheting around her mind. When she got to her car she jumped in and raced off home, screeched to a halt on her driveway, jumped out her car and ran inside her parent’s house, up the stairs and into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Half an hour later her fathers head appeared around the door.
“I presume you’ll be pulling an all nighter again Bec’s here’s some coffee and doughnuts.”
“Thanks dad.”
She said without looking up from her computer screen
He set her coffee and doughnuts down on her desk and turned to leave.
“Everything going well Bec’s ?”
“Yeah, great dad, I’m going to be in print Saturday, the whole story.”
“Well don’t burn the candle to much at both ends because I have a feeling things are going to get very busy for you young lady and you will be needing all the sleep you can get.”
“Ok Dad.”
She replied as she happily typed away.
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
