Chapter 6 Clive Meek
Clive meek drove out of town and up onto the main highway, his air conditioning working at full capacity to keep the inside of his car cool. He drove for about ten minutes before turning right and heading east for the town of Walters, after a further twenty minutes of driving he reached the outskirts of Walters which was situated right on the border off of the parish of Evangeline. There was a large housing development planned to be built just off of the highway down a mile or so of local roads. His job was to asses the road conditions and the junction with the highway then write a report for the parish zoning officials, identifying the impacts of the proposal on the local road network and upon the cross parish highway.
The development was for one hundred and seventy five houses which by anyone’s estimation would generate a considerable volume of traffic.
He pulled up in a cloud of dust besides a large hording at the roadside which advertised the new development with a large artist’s impression of the new housing. It was late morning now as he stepped from his car and walked off of the road and climbed over an old wooden railed fence into a large expanse of open grasslands. The sun was getting high in the sky, it was hot and the air hung heavy with humidity, this was all too evident by the sweat already forming upon Clive’s brow. He walked some thirty yards before stopping and wiping the sweat from his eyes with a handkerchief. Dark stains were already forming under his armpits turning his light blue cotton shirt dark blue in wide arcs and brown dust had coated his brightly polished shoes with a thin layer. He looked around briefly before returning to his car, he climbed in and closed the door, he then turned the ignition key and the engine burst into life. Turning the air-conditioning up to its highest setting he rested his head back against the headrest and briefly closed his eyes. Within a minute or so the temperature inside his car had fallen substantially and he opened his eyes, reached across to the passenger seat and picked up his leather bound folder.
He glanced at his list of appointments for the day. He had to complete four site visits, carrying out a detailed highways survey at each location, return to Town Hall in Spicebridge to pick up some documents and have at least one, hopefully two of his reports completed and at least one of the remaining reports started and all by the end of the working day. ‘Well that clearly wasn’t going to happen’, he thought to himself, so he decided as usual to cut a few corners. There wasn’t any real reason to do any measuring or note taking, he knew the roads well enough across the whole parish and anyway once his reports were submitted nobody would question his professional judgments’ and recommendations.
Today, all of his visits were lone visits, he had no state highways engineers or developers to meet on site so who would know if he had actually visited each site and carried out the required detailed surveys, nobody, he concluded. So putting down his folder, he put his car into drive and drove in a wide arc across the road and headed off back in the direction he had just come from. He turned the radio on and tapped away on the steering wheel in time to the music.
He couldn’t return to City Hall in Ville Platte Hall immediately as his corner cutting would be noticed and his boss may ask a few awkward questions, so he kept on driving past the left turn on the main highway to Ville Platte and headed in the direction ofJena. Ten miles further on he pulled off to the left of the highway and drove down a narrow dusty track that wove its way between woods and open grasslands for about another three miles. He rounded a sharp left bend and pulled up outside a small ram shackled shack, locally known as a shotgun shack. Turning off the engine he got out of his car into the midday heat and immediately broke into a sweat again.
“Hey Luke.”
He called to the old man sitting in the shade of his rickety porch.
Cuzn Luke had been awoken from his slumber by the sound of the car pulling up; he watched the man approach and returned the greeting
“Hey boi it’s a mighty fine seein yuh and that’s a fact, how’s life in that big ol’town these days?”
“Just fine and dandy.”
Clive said with a grin.
“I was just passing and thought I‘d come on by an see how you are?”
“Well ain’t that a thing ol’ Luke is a gettin visitors from towns’ folk now.”
Cuzn Luke said laughing out loudly.
“Would bin betta if youze had been some fine young belle all dressed up in purdy ste-pin.”
With that he let out another belly laugh and lifted up his bottle to his lips, as he guzzled Clive sat down beside him on a wooden chair.
“If that’s how you feel old man, I’ll be off then.”
Clive said smiling.
“No just goin on with yuh.”
Cuzn Luke said as he swallowed his mouthful of shine and smiled with a mischievous tobacco stained grin.
Clive had known Cuzn Luke since Clive was a boy. As a younger man Cuzn Luke was seen as a good ol’ boy, always going hog wild, knew everyone for miles around and everything that went on. All the local youths of the surroundings district had a certain level of respect for Cuzn Luke and his reputation as something of a wild man went before him.
As a young single man Clive would come across Cuzn Luke at local bars, often fighting, always with a woman on his arm or at a local shin dig drinking hard and dancing the night away as if he were himself a young man.
Cuzn Luke stood up adjusted his baggy old denims and sat back into his armchair with a sigh.
“Sure is mighty hot, anyhows it’s good timin youze come round as Auh had Billy-Bob come visitin an he an young Mary-Jo got themsels some plans…., Go fetch yuhsel a beer from the inside an c’mon back here an Auh’ll tell youze all about it.”
Clive accepted the offer of a cool beer and went into the dim hot musty shack to get his beer, on returning, he sat back down and Cuzn Luke began to explain all. He explained Billy-Bobs plans in detail and Clive listen intently, from Clive’s point of view the track from Lokchapi town center wouldn’t be a problem to the application and he told Cuzn Like that he’d see to that himself. After that they chatted in general about all and everything Clive told Cuzn Luke about what was happening in town, all the gossip and hearsay. He told him of dodgy dealings in the Town Hall and complained about his workload. Cuzn Luke regaled his captive audience with tales of his youth and his escapades in and around his old stomping grounds. He talked of his father’s and grandfather’s stills out in the backwoods and how the police were always busting them. The stills were never broken up, the officers would pay a visit and drive away with a small donation in cash and a jug or two of strong sweet shine, that’s just how thing worked around those parts. The visits were quite regular and if it was a late afternoon visit the officers would normally drive away late at night more the worse for wear.
As the afternoon passed Cuzn Luke’s bottle of shine emptied and Clive had a pile of empty beer cans growing beside his chair. They talked and laughed, Cuzn Luke cried with laughter at times as he recalled some of the highlights of his mischievous younger days. He was never an out and out law breaker but would often bend the rules to breaking point. And for his part Clive listened, he always like to hear of the goings on in what he termed the good old days when the locals were pretty much left to their own devices without interference from the State Capital and outsiders.
Nowadays there were regulations for everything and at work they were being made to be more and more accountable not only within his own Parish offices based in Ville Platte but also to the politicians in the Capital Building of Baton Rouge. That was not good news for Clive as he had always had his own way of doing things; he liked to cut corners and do the least amount of work as possible without getting noticed. His lack of drive and ambition was a characteristic that he grew into in his mid teens and as he grew older his actions and views of the world solidified into the man he was today.
He was an insignificant man with no ambition and low morals. He was a man who was sly and manipulative and brandished his limited local powers to gain the best possible advantage for himself with the least effort possible. His main opportunity to use his limited powers and influence was when he was making highways development recommendations and providing consultative advice and here he took full advantage of every opportunity to gain personally by subverting any and all highways development rules, guidelines policies or laws with a certain relish and flare. His appearance mirrored his inner self as he was wiry with weasel like features and thin lips that held a almost permanent sly grin upon them. He had a permanent dark five o’clock shadow, looked unwashed and his grey eyes constantly flicked furtively from side to side.
The afternoon turned to evening and the drink continued to flow, before long the sun dropped below the horizon and Cuzn Luke lit an old hurricane lamp and placed it on the table in front of them.
“C’mon boi go an fetch youze some more beers an get me a bottle of whiskey off the side on youze way back.”
Cuzn Luke said with a sharp slap on Clive’s knee that made him jump.
Clive rose to his feet unsteadily and disappeared into the darkness of the shack, emerging after some time with a half case of beers and an unopened bottle of dark brown Bourbon whiskey, taking his seat again he handed Cuzn Luke his bottle and snapped open the ring pull of another beer. They continued to drink, chat and laugh until Clive’s head drooped and he fell fast asleep. Cuzn Luke went on drinking on his own for another half an hour or so until he felt the weight of sleep descending across his eyelids, he shook his head, kicked Clive in the leg and said.
”Time to be getting off home boi to that purdy missus o’ yourne an Auh is of a mind to go hit them bushes then get tuh bed.”
Clive woke with a start and shook his head, his head swam and pounded and he was momentarily disorientated, after a few seconds Clive staggered to his feet, thanked Cuzn Luke, rubbed his eyes and swayed down the steps of the porch and onto the track in the general direction of his car.
Chapter 7 Battling the Dark Dread
Pooh heard SJ stirring first and crawled off of Samuel’s bed, with that Moo stirred, got up from his bed on the floor and stretched then followed his dad over to the bedroom door. There they both sat heads cocked listening to the sounds coming from SJ’s bedroom, eagerly anticipating her coming to open the door and let them out for their morning patrol around the garden perimeter. They would then quickly return to the house and await a bowlful of dried biscuits and meat for breakfast and if lucky a bowl of milk between them.
Samuel was woken from his sleep by Pooh’s movements as he got down from the bed, in slow motion he reached over to turn on his bed side lamp and was dazzled by the bright light. He squinted as he looked at his alarm clock trying to focus on the glowing red numbers which after a moment or two came into focus and told him it was six forty-five. He picked up the alarm clock and turned it off then replaced it on his bedside before picking up the TV remote and turning the TV on. He switching to the local KALB TV news, then after a few minutes he switched over to the WTNZ TV Chanel to watch the Fox national news. His door opened and SJ leaned her head into the gloom.
“Morning Samuel.”
She said as she was greeted by her two happy, wagging dogs.
“Morning……, SJ…… sleep well?”
Samuel’s replied in a slow robotic monotone from his bed.
“Yes I did, thanks.”
She replied before turning and descending the stairs with two highly excited dogs vying with her for each tread on the staircase. Samuel returned to gazing at the national news then flicked back to the local news in time to catch the weather forecast for the day, another hot and steamy day was forecast with temperatures of eighty seven degrees with eighty five percent humidity.
‘I must get up, I must work’. Samuel told himself, his mind battling itself in an all too familiar struggle to spring into action. A struggle to turn an imaginary switch somewhere deep inside the intricate wiring of his brain to the on position a struggle that was almost impossible as he didn’t know where it was and didn’t know how to turn it on. If his mind won its initial battle and somehow turned the switch then that would allow his mind to awaken fully, for him to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed, for his thoughts to turn to the days work ahead of him and for his brain activity and energy levels to rise. At the moment though the darkness that enveloped his mind shrouding it in a veil of nothing was winning, his body ached from the lack of energy and his bed held him in a vice like grip. He had often thought that when his mind was unable or simply powerless to operate normally that it was like a cars’ starter motor having problems starting an engine. He would continually turn the engine over and over, if the engine ignited then the car would start and be ready to drive but if not the starter would turn and turn, each time getting slower and weaker until the battery went flat. Likewise with his mind if it turned to ‘on’ his brain would awaken, his neurons would fire off electrical impulses and start to think and function, his body would be flooded with a burst of energy and he would get up and operate as a normal human being for the day. But if it did not he would try and try turn until the final attempt sapped the life out him completely. When that happened he would simply drift back into the depths of the dark enveloping clouds and his mind would descend into the recesses of his unconscious and beyond.
SJ returned and placed a steaming mug of strong coffee on Samuels’s bedside table and again left him alone in the gloom to either get up or not.
“Jason C’mon its time to get up for school son.”
She said lovingly through Jason’s door.
”C’mon get up.”
She continued as she opened his door and spoke into the darkness.
Jason stirred and replied with a typical teenage grunt.
“Ok mom, I’m awake.”
SJ closed his door and returned downstairs to make breakfast for herself and Jason.
She turned on the radio and hummed along to the music as she prepared French toast, griddled bacon, tomatoes and a large jug of milk.
Her favorite was Eggs Sardou, a Creole recipe of poached eggs, artichoke, spinach and hollandaise sauce, but this morning she had neither the time nor inclination to do it. Anyway Samuel was always better at this dish than she was and would always add an unexpected touch of maybe lightly chilied prawns or finely chopped smoked pork.
Just as SJ was serving up the breakfast onto two clean white plates Jason came springing into the kitchen with his IPod earphones clamped to his ears, nodding his head in time to the music and singing along rather un-tunefully as he approached the table. He looked up and said.
”Mornin Mom……, I just heard dad moving around in his room, d’you think he’ll get out to work today?”
“I certainly hope so.”
SJ replied as she placed the plates on the table and sat down to eat. Pooh and Moo maneuvered into position waiting to get some leftovers, they had both learned that SJ was no soft touch and no matter how they begged at the table or looked pleadingly at her they would not get fed by her. Jason however followed his dad’s example and would occasionally reward them with the odd piece of bread, bacon rind or any other piece of unwanted food. This was to the displeasure of SJ who discouraged such activities at the dining table, but she was fighting a losing battle because Samuel would always save both dogs both something from his meal and their patience and begging skills would be rewarded.
Just as they were about halfway through their breakfast the door opened and a rather sleepy, sluggish Samuel entered the kitchen, his hair looked like a birds nest, he had six days of growth to his unshaven face and his eyes looked watery as he squinted in the brightness of the kitchen. It was just gone seven twenty am and the sun had already topped the red oaks besides the church, the early morning sunlight flooded their kitchen and promised another hot day with clear blue skies.
“Good morning did you all sleep well?”
He asked as he passed Pooh and patted him on the head, opening a cupboard he reached in and pulled out a packet of cornflakes, shuffled around to the refrigerator, picked up a carton of milk and sat down at the table with a grunt. He rubbed his eyes, blinked and focused on the table in front of him, then rose up again, and shuffled over to another cupboard, opened it and retrieved a large bowl, he then retraced his steps and picked a spoon from the draining board by the sink before reseating himself at the table. All the while SJ and Jason had continued to talk quietly amongst themselves with both of their sets of eyes following Samuel’s faltering, robotic progress around the kitchen. Once he had reseated himself SJ decided to talk to him.
“Yes I slept ok but it was much to humid for me last night and I woke early this morning……, Jason says he has got an early end to college today so he has arranged another driving lesson, which should be fun for him.”
Jason had had his drivers permit since he was fifteen and had had some driving tuition from both SJ and Samuel and had made good progress initially, as with his mother, Jason did not listen to instructions and whenever he went out with his father it always ended in an argument. So for the sanity of the family they had all agreed they would wait a while and save for Jason to have professional driver training. Once he started this he picked up driving really easily and had become quite proficient.
“I can’t wait, were gonna go up the 167 and get on interstate 49 and head towards Pinetown for some miles, its been getting boring driving around locally between here Spicebridge and Ville Platte…. , I’m at last goin to be out on the big open highways.”
Jason declared with a satisfied smile.
“Well you just be careful Jason…., me and your mom… know you are doing well but don’t go overdoing it……………., just take your time, listen to your instructor and …….”
“Oh you do worry dad, I’ve had twelve proper lessons now and I know what I am doing.”
Jason cut in immediately with a little frustration showing in his voice, stopping his mumbling dad mid sentence.
“Don’t tell dad about my up an comin test mom, or he’ll worry about that to an make me nervous.”
Jason whispered to his mom.
SJ mouthed ‘ok’, in reply and quickly changed the subject.
“Samuel, coffee?”
Slowly Samuel’s head raised up from his bowl, milk dribbling down his chin, his mind whirred and gradually an answer to SJ’s question formed in the recesses of his mind and then was released as a couple of simple word.
“Yes……please.”
He said in a quiet drowsy voice before his head slowly dropped forward and he continued to shovel his cereal into his mouth.
Samuel was known for his worrying. When he was at work he would worry about SJ and Jason, worry whether he would complete his day’s yardage dug, he would worry about how hard SJ worked, he would worry about Jason’s schooling, he would worry about Pooh and Moo, he would worry about his family, he would worry about SJ’s family.
If something unexpected happened in everyday life it would become a burden upon his shoulders until solved. It could be something as simple as a small plumbing problem at home, or the lawn mower malfunctioning, but this would build within his mind and grow completely out of proportion to its actual importance. It is something he loathed about his own personality, in his youth he had criticized his own father for worrying about all and everything, but that is exactly how he had turned out. He had asked his psychiatrist and psychologist for help with this and they had provided him with strategies and mental tools to help unburden himself of his worries and to some extent these methods he had learnt had been successful. However every so often the worries would creep one by one back into his mind, unnoticeable at first but as they built and grew, his shoulders would sag under the strain of them and he would have to fight to cast them aside and be able to look forward with optimism.
In his current state of mind all and every strange or difficult character trait or pattern of behavior was possible to emerge from the depths of Samuel’s mind. As he sat finishing off his bowl of cornflakes his mind was wandering across the day that lay ahead of him, who was his client that day?….., where did they live?………., how much yardage did he have to dig?….., how hot was it going to be?………, was his shovel clean?….., was his machete sharpened?, were his snake gaiterson his truck?………., where had he left his work boots?………,on and on his mind went until SJ’s voice interrupted his thinking.
“Samuel here’s your coffee…….., I’ve got tea myself for.”
“Uhh…, thanks SJ,……. thanks…..great.”
Came his sluggish reply.
“You workin today Dad?”
Jason asked as he got up from the breakfast table.
“Yes….. I ……aaam Jason, I’ve got……. another hot and busy….. day.”
Samuel replied as he pushed his breakfast bowl away from him, yawned and stretched.
SJ placed the hot steaming cup of coffee in front of Samuel and sat down again at the table with her tea. She had been introduced to tea by Samuel’s grandfather Norman who was English and had been a bomber pilot in world war two. He had met Samuels grandmother, Pamela at a dance inLondon,Englandin late1944, she was an American nurse attached to the Eighth USAF stationed just to thenorth westofLondonatHigh Wycombe. They had had a whirlwind romance, neither expecting to survive the war,Normangoing out on regular bombing missions deep over the heart of industrialGermany, and Pamela surviving numerous air raids. But on V.E. day, the 8thof May 1945 they had danced and drank their way downRegents Street, danced in the fountains atTrafalgar Squareand found themselves with tens of thousands of other joyous revellers inWhitehall. As they danced and cheered and drank the British Prime Minister, Winston Churchill addressed the crowd from a balcony, waving to the crowd and holding up his famous two fingered salute he spoke into a microphone,
“This is your victory.” he called to them and in one voice the crowd roared back.
“No, it is yours.”
Norman and Pamela would always recount with pride how Mr. Winston Churchill then lead the crowd in singing Land of hope and Glory.Not much else can be remembered of that day by the heroic couple.
Within the month they had married,Normanhad been accompanied by his bomber crew and Pamela had her three best nursing friends as bride’s maids.
Not only had SJ leaned to love the English tea that Grandpa Norman drank, both Samuel and SJ had learned much about the Second World War from both Grandpa Norman and Grandma Pamela, about the British, their cold changeable climate, their spirit and also much about Europe. When Samuel and SJ had first met in Baton Rouge they would often go round to visit both sets of families, but it was always at Grandpa Norman’s and Grandma Pamela’s that they were made most at ease, they would sit and listen to their stories for hour after hour. Grandpa Norman had kept his taste for British beer and had located an outlet in New Orleans that would send him up a case or two every three months and he would sit and share his strong dark tasting ale with his grandson. When Samuel was a young boy Grandpa Norman had given him a Winnie the Pooh book, it was old and battered when Samuel received it as a Christmas gift but to this day it is one of his prized possessions. It is Winnie the Pooh who their dog Mr. Pooh was named after, Samuel had an affinity for Winnie the Pooh, he liked his character, he liked his friendliness and he completely understood the simplistic outlook on life that he had.
Samuel had only four heroes in his life, Winnie the Pooh, Winston Churchill, Homer Simpson and Bob Marley, in no particular order but they all held a special place in Samuel’s mind, all for differing reasons and all had certain personalities or character traits that Samuel admired deeply.. .
Jason left the house and was walking along the track towards the school bus stop in the early morning sunshine, the early mist had cleared now and the sun was rising in a clear blue sky another hot day loomed. Jason liked the heat but not the humidity and he was annoyed that for the time of year the humidity was climbing almost as fast as the heat was, it was unusual but like everyone else he put it down to global warming. A large brown Pelican flew low and lazily overhead on its way towards the lakeshore for a gullet full of morning fish, Jason looked up and smiled, ‘I wish I had a lazy day just chillin’, he thought to himself as he watched it disappear beyond some trees.
Jason nodded his head in time to his IPod music as he walked, it was nearly 8 am and already it was seventy nine degrees and heating up quickly, getting the bus was becoming a drag and he couldn’t wait to get his driving license. He had three hours of lessons to endure and then a full two hours of driver training and home early for two thirty.
While Jason walked along the track to catch the school bus back at home Samuel was mustering his energy and trying to focus his mind on the day ahead. In the gloom of his bedroom his bed was still calling out to him, its invisible fingers reaching out to him, pulling him backwards, trying to entice him back to its comfort, he fought hard and the battle in his mind continued. SJ busied herself clearing up the kitchen then putting two large bowls of water down for the dogs, one inside and the second outside in the shade of their veranda. She then went back upstairs, showered and dressed in her light and airy cotton uniform. She had a long list of clients to complete that day, the first at nine am and the last at six pm. She went back downstairs, made sure the ice box in the refrigerator was full, poured herself a glass of cold water, added some ice and then went into her studio to prepare for the day.
Samuel was now building up a momentum, he was winning the battle to function casting off the grasping darkness. He picked up his cell phone, wallet, pick-up keys and client book from his desk and headed out into the sunshine, he blinked momentarily then set off across the verandah down the steps and into the morning’s full glare.
“Bye SJ.”
He called as he passed her studio on the side of their home.“
“Bye.”
She called after him.
“Have a good day…., see you this evening.”
He replied, Both Pooh and Moo with their tails wagging happily followed him along the back of the house to the side gate to the garden. He stopped, bent down and patted them both on the head.
“Bye boys, be good and keep out the sun.”
He told them before opening the side gate, shuffling through it and closing it firmly behind him. He walked slowly across his side lawn then down his stony drive to his pickup, checked in the back for his shovels, he had two, both wooden handled, one long and the other short, and both were there. He checked for his machete and sharpening stone, his snake gators, his two buckets and finally his thick leather gauntlets. He then checked the securing straps on his Ditchboard, ‘All there and nice and secure’, he thought to himself as he unlocked the door and climbed into the already hot cab. He checked under his seat for his two large plastic water bottles, wound the windows down and closed the door. He reached down to the center console and picked up his pouch of tobacco and rolled himself a big fat cigarette. He flicked his lighter and lit his cigarette, took a deep pull on it and blew the smoke out of his window in a long plume. His head swam a little from the mornings hit of nicotine as he sat gazing out of the side window at two squirrels playing chase along the picket fence between his garden and the churchyard. Resting both hands upon the steering wheel, he willed himself to continue, cleared his mind as best he could and then started the engine. He reversed out down his drive; out onto the track and shifting into drive pulled away in a cloud of dust towards the center of the village. As he drove towards his place of work for that day his mind wandered, nowhere in particular, just wandered around thinking of this and that until finally it stopped its wandering and rested at the time when he had started up his business.
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
