The Homewrecker Series ™

BTW when you are done reading this chapter. If you think thinking is fun; if you think philosophy should be for everyone try reading TheMapThinker.com

L C was relieved to see Trevor, who worked for Sternhouser’s market, go up to the man in the dented car and talk to him. Trevor began picking up the groceries and reinstalling them in the cart. While he did so the man stomped toward the women.

The policeman told the driver of the SUV he could go on about his business, thanking  him for his quick reactions. The man looked glad to be gone. L C did not blame him. He drove away slowly, somewhat nervously.

“Who’s gonna pay for the damage to my car?” the man from the dented car growled menacingly as he joined them.

The policeman looked at him. “I believe that is a matter for your insurance company.” He pointed to a sign that listed several things Stanhouser’s market refused to be responsible for. Among them was listed damage from shopping carts.

“The store may not be responsible for the damage but she is. She shoved her basket right into the trunk of my car.”

“You can file a report to that effect but I have to tell you I was a witness to the episode.” He pointed at L C. The little girl wrinkled her nose at him.

“And just who are you?”

The policeman showed them his badge with a quick, practiced movement.

The man left, cussing. “I might have known. A cops wife. She can get away with anything. The law in this town is so crooked. Something needs to be done about it.”

The policeman ignored the man, “What may I do for you ladies?”

Letting go of the girl the woman said, “Tell this woman to give the child to me. I am her nanny. I am her guardian.”

L C shook her head. “Just let her calm down. She’s scared.” To the girl she asked, “What is your name, honey?”

“Zena.”

The nanny snapped, “No. Your name is Guinevere.” To the adults she said, “Her last nanny let her watch that show. I do not.” To L C, “Now give her to me.”

“What did you say the name of your employer was?” The policeman was polite but firm.

“Langlin. Kenneth and Judy Langlin.”

He nodded his head. “They are very important people in this town.” He took out his cell phone, punched in a single number and stepped away a few paces for privacy, then began speaking softly into the phone.

“Mom? I need the Langlin’s phone number.”

He stepped further away and L C could no longer hear. He returned a few minutes later saying, “Mrs Langlin will be here in a few minutes.”

The girl looked up. “Mommy?”

His smile was suddenly genuine. “Your mommy is coming.

L C had heard the name Langlin before. Newspapers? Yes. Where else. Not her mother. Her aunt Emmy. L C’s mother enjoyed listening to her sister divulge gossip of the town’s hoity-toity class. Gossip she gleaned while arraigning unruly strands of hair. L C never saw any point in it, but now she found it comforting to know she had a connection with the child’s mother, no matter how tenuous.

The nanny’s voice was soft and gentle. “Come to nanny,” The sweet, concerned caretaker of a small child. She cooed gently to Guinevere, who quickly buried her face in L C’s neck. She turned to the policeman. “Are you just going to stand there like that? She is refusing to give me the child. I am her paid guardian. What she is doing amounts to kidnapping.”

“Let’s wait for Mrs. Langlin. In the mean time, let me get some information.” Turning to L C he asked for her name and identification.

Her name was Lindsey Carol Davenport. She never felt like a Lindsey; a Lindsey would be much skinnier than she and a Carol would be much shorter. She never felt like a Davenport, that was a piece of furniture, a sofa that converted into a bed or a desk. What kind of a girl wanted to be either? The only time she “felt” like a Davenport was in high school when a girl used her back to write a boy’s phone number. “Okay,” she thought, “Now I’m a davenport.” The initials though, L C, fit her.

She was undaunted when people called her Elsie, the name of the cow on a milk carton. Her response was quick and simple, “She’s famous and people love her. What more do you want? Nobody ever heard of Lindsey the Llama or Carol the Camel.”

She did not bother to tell all of that to the policeman. She simply handed him her driver’s license.

(c) 2013 All Rights Reserved

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BTW when you are done reading this chapter: If you think thinking is fun; if you think philosophy should be for everyone, try reading TheMapThinker.com

Second week, second chapter, as promised

Chapter Two:  The Friend

Peter Johnson was relieved to see his friend Billy walk in the front door of the restaurant. Why he was relieved he wasn’t quite sure. There was never any question in his mind about Billy showing up. Billy had always been there for him, just as he had always been there for Billy, although Billy had not always been aware of exactly what Peter had done for him. Or even that Peter had done anything at all. For some things the less Billy knew the better. The restaurant was long and dark, built of thick, rich wood with spacious booths padded with green stuffed leather cushions. There was just a hint of ribeye steak and eggs being cooked to perfection coming from the kitchen. It was the perfect place for quiet business conversations that were not meant to be overheard. The waitress was unassuming and intruded as little as possible.

Billy slid his briefcase in the seat first, then sat next to it.

They were dressed as they were expected to be dressed. Expensive black suits meant to impress and intimidate. Men who worked for corporations that produced nothing but controlled the companies that did. Men who told those that were involved in the actual production of real things what had to be done to meet corporate goals and  achieve the profit margins. Men who could quell the complaints of plant managers with a single glance if the manger complained, “But it can’t be done.” Because if the plant manager didn’t do what he knew could not be done he would be replaced with someone who would do it anyway.

The two men had been friends since high school football. Peter was considered uncle by Billy’s daughter, and Billy was the favorite uncle of both Peter’s children. In college they had backed each other, cheated on tests together, and helped bring the team to state victory. Billy was the one person Peter could count on without any need for persuasion. Right now that was what he needed.

“What is happening?” Billy asked, a worried frown on his face. He knew there was a problem or his friend would never have asked to see him on his way to work in the morning. The waitress came up, Billy glanced at her, “Coffee for now.” And she disappeared.

Peter shoved his own cup of coffee to the side, clasped his hands with the two index fingers extended, much like the position a policeman uses to fire a pistol. “When I went home last Friday I had a nice job, a cushy retirement fund, a huge house with a payment I could easily afford on my salary, a good chance of a promotion in about six months, and not a single worry in the world.”Billy accepted a cup of coffee from the waitress. When she left Peter resumed. Billy did  not like the way the conversation was starting out.

“I made one stop. By the time I arrived home forty five minutes had passed. As I entered the foyer the phone was ringing for me.” Peter stopped. Took a deep breath. “I was informed the company was no longer owned by Crisptech, Stoddard, and Scrates. It is now owned by somebody else, I was so shocked I didn’t get the name of the new owners. I was further informed my services are no longer needed. Very sorry, nothing personal. I was told to stop in at security Monday morning where I was escorted to my desk and allowed to pick up my personal belongings. I wasn’t even allowed to check the computer for emails.”

There was a long silence as Billy absorbed that. Unfortunately Billy could see himself facing the same position, if not today, then tomorrow or next week.

“Why you?”

“Not just me. If it were, I could do something. I’ve called everyone I have any influence over. They were all let go plus a bunch more. As near as  I can tell it is a clean sweep.” Peter did not mention that “everyone he had influence over” meant everyone he had something on. He normally used the J. Edgar Hoover approach to friendship. He believed that the more he had on someone the more he trusted them. Except in the case of Billy. Billy had always been the one person he could count on without so much as a hint of blackmail.

“That is horrible. What are you going to do. Surely with your experience you can get another job in your field.”

That would be simple. Billy would get him a job with his company. It wouldn’t matter how menial. With a little applied research Peter would move up in the company. Soon he would pass Billy and he would take Billy right up to the top with him. Of course he would never tell Billy just exactly how it had happened. Billy did not need to know everything.

“I tried. Nobody is hiring. Everybody is cutting back. The only job openings are ones I’m overqualified to do.”

“That is unbelievable.”

“I figure you can get me on where you work. Doesn’t matter what. You can push past the ‘over qualified’ part. Once I get a foot in the door I’ll make a spot for myself.”

“That’s bad. There aren’t any jobs where I’m at. I was actually thinking if I got cut I would come to you. But if you are out we are both out. Other than that the only thing I can do is front you a couple of thousand till something comes through for you.”

Peter felt a cold shock pass over him, like getting hit by cold water in a shower where you expected comfortable warmth. “Couple of thousand dollars isn’t going to help right now. If I get to that I’ll have to unload a boat or the cabin or something else. I’ve got a few stocks. What I need isn’t a hand, it is an income.”

“The cabin?” The memories of so many things, mentioned and unmentioned, that had happened there entered his mind. “That would be a shame. You’ve had it forever.”

“What I need is a job. What about your wife. Where she works.”

“They put her to looking into cutbacks and laying people off. Layoffs there mean fired. They just won’t say it outright.” Billy looked into his coffee cup as though it were the dark future itself.

“So nothing?”

“Nothing. I’ll keep looking for you. I’ll have my wife keep an eye out too. Right now I think it is a good thing we put a big chunk away for Peaches’ college fund or she might not get to go.”

Peter nodded.

There was not much left to say and after some small talk Billy went back to his job.

Peter stayed for a long time, thinking.

The one time he really needed Billy, the only time it had been a matter of real life and death, Billy let him down. Flat. And then have the nerve to brag about his daughter’s college fund. Peter had never set one up for his children. It had never dawned on him he wouldn’t be able to pay for it out of pocket when the time came.

That was okay. Billy would pay for this betrayal. Peter would see to it.