“It’s not much, but we help many people. Come, I’ll show you.” Alani gave them the grand tour of the offices, warehouse, and receiving room. Dirty homeless people sat in plastic chairs and talked with one another. Seth tried to hold his breath against the stench of old sweat and booze. The workers greeted him and each fussed about what a wonderful man Dad was, how he worked there twice a week, and helped all he could.
As they exited, Seth shook his head. “I don’t get it.”
“What, son?”
“You could put money into that place... new offices, showers, or even put those bums in hotels... get them new clothes.”
“I give them plenty of money. I try to be careful where and how I give. But what I give here is time. It helps to see people like Haloa.”
“Who?”
“Haloa. I introduced him to you. Skinny kid, he wore an old army fatigue jacket.”
“Oh. Right.”
“He’s an alcoholic. He’ll probably die on the streets. But meanwhile I help him get through.” Dad started the truck and exited the parking lot. “Let’s get some lunch.”
He stopped at a light. “I sent Haloa to a treatment center. Really nice place. Got him cleaned up. His eyes got clear, his mind, too. So excited. A day after he got out, back drunk again.”
“So it’s hopeless.”
Dad glanced over. “Sort of. But I give him some comfort while he’s here, anyway.” They parked and walked to the Fishing Hole Restaurant, outdoor again with a table right above the water.
Seth tapped his screen and set the phone down. “Dad, Cassandra and I are concerned.”
“Son, I—”
“Hang on. Let me speak my peace.” Taking a deep breath he spoke. “You’ve abandoned the company, gone off to this island, left the family, and now you’re living in a cave.”
“Lava tube.”
“Right. What we’ve decided is to vote you out as Chairman of the Board, in fact off the Board altogether, and terminate your employment at the company.”
Dad sat back and peered at his son. “And the reason for that?”
“Well, as I said, you’ve left everything.”
“Let me ask you some questions. Who started this company?”
“Dad, please don’t make this any harder than it is. It’s not about the past, it’s about the present and future.”
“Have I missed a single Board meeting?”
“You’ve missed them all. Since you left.”
“No, I’ve Skyped every one. Has any crime been committed?”
“No, sir.”
“Has all my input been in the best interest of the company?”
“You’re making this difficult.”
“Yes, I am. I started this company with five thousand dollars I borrowed from your grandmother.”
“Dad, I know.” His cell chirped. He picked it up, glared at the screen, tapped a reply, and set it on the table.
His dad picked up the phone and threw it in the water. Seth stood and ran to the wall and looked over at the water. “You—you threw my phone in the ocean?”
“Sit down, son.” You can get another one when we’re finished.” He sat back and rubbed his chin. “Here’s what I propose. You and your sister take a four-day weekend. You come over to the island, stay with me. We’ll have a retreat and you can both learn about what’s important in life.”
Seth frowned. This wasn’t turning out anything like Cassandra and he imagined. “This is our option?”
He nodded. “That’s the deal. And I figure it’s about a billion dollar deal. So if you want to do it, call your sister, and we’ll set it up.”
“I can’t. You threw my phone in the water.”
“Oh, that’s right. I have a cell phone at the house. Or you can call her after you’ve bought another. You’ve probably had that one for six weeks anyway, so it was obsolete.”
~
Cassandra and Seth met Dad at the airport and even though Seth warned her, she shrieked with revulsion at the sight of her father. “God help you, what’s happened? Are you starving?”
“What?” Dad looked at his faded shirt. “Of course not. I’m training for the Ironman Triathlon.”
Cassandra turned to Seth, questioning. “I forgot to tell you about that. Yeah. He’s going to enter.”
“Are you mental? What if you get eaten by a shark?”
“What? No, of course not. I’ll be so far back the shark would have to have passed up a thousand people.”
She groaned. “Let’s get through this.”
Dad took them all over the island, meeting people at the homeless shelter, the food bank, and a women’s shelter. On Sunday he got up early, fixed them breakfast in the lava tube, and informed them they were going to church.
“What?” Seth stood with hands on his hips. “What happened to ‘Church is for weak people’?”
Dad pointed at him and smiled. “That’s right. You remember. I still believe that.”
Solid Rock Church met in an old pole barn type building, perched along the water. Once again Dad introduced them to all his friends who fussed about what a wonderful man their father was, how much he’d helped the church and its causes. After the service, they stood outside Dad’s truck. The truth dawned on Seth. “No one knows you’re wealthy, do they?”
“What? Oh no. You know how that works. It complicates things. People expect things from you. They think you’re smarter than you are. And they all want something. If the pastor knew what I was worth, he’d be taking me to lunch and talking about vision, and the new roof, a cool baptistery or something.”
“So you lead a double life.” Cassandra tapped the rusty cab of the truck.
“Not really. I lead this life. I just don’t share the money part. But if you think about it, no one else does either. Like Nohokai.”
“Who?”
“The guitar player. I introduced him. I have no idea what he makes, what he spends, or anything.”
“It’s a little different,” Cassandra said, “It isn’t like he’s a seven figure guy.”
“It’s nobody’s business. Jump in. Let’s get some lunch.”
They crowded into the truck and rode to the Fishing Hole. Seth stopped. “Promise you won’t throw our phones in the sea.” Cassandra’s mouth dropped open. “Oh yeah, he tossed mine in the drink last time.”
“Only if you manage them. That is, leave them off.”
Cassandra sat facing the water. “Dad, it’s a twenty-four hour business.”
“I know that, but you should have learned to delegate by now, so you can get away once in a while. Do either of you have hobbies?” They shook their heads. “Opposite sex attractions?”
Cassandra shrugged. “Maybe.”
Seth shook his head no.
“Taken any good vacations lately?” He looked from one to the other. “Oh, come on. Okay, Cassandra, have you thought about the chase?”
She looked confused. “The chase.”
“Yes. How much money would it take to be satisfied?”
Pursing her lips, she said, “Well, I used to think a million dollars. Then five. Twenty maybe?”
“And when you hit twenty, what would it be?”
“I see where this is going. Probably fifty.”
“Right. The BMW becomes the Mercedes, which becomes the Ferrari, which becomes the Bentley. And you have to keep cranking it to keep up. You’re a super big shot and your time is so valuable that you buy the Gulfstream to save time, but before long it’s too small and too slow and you need a better, faster jet. Gardeners, housekeepers, personal assistants, and it’s more more more. When is it enough? Seth?”
“When we have twice the market share of our number two competitor.”
“Wow. You learned that from the old man, huh?”
“That’s right.”
Dad took a bite of his fish taco and chewed. “Somehow you need a balanced life. Vocation, leisure, health, spiritual—”
“Hey, what about spirit
ual, Dad?” Cassandra asked. “What’s with this church thing?”
He set the taco down. “You know, I don’t think either of you are ready for that talk.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Seth said.
“Maybe the next time you come over.” Dad finished the second taco and wiped his mouth with the paper napkin. “So delicious. Now, old business. Last time you visited Seth, you spoke of firing me.”
“Releasing you from the board.”
“That’s a nice way to sugar coat it. Helps you sleep at night, does it?”
“Dad,” Cassandra patted his arm, “please don’t make this any harder than it already is.”
He looked from Seth to Cassandra. “Okay. I’ve thought about this, and here’s my counter offer. You and your sister can vote me off the board; you have that right. But I will sell all my shares immediately. That will send the stock price into a free fall. Then I’ll give away all my money, your inheritance. And believe me, I’m getting pretty good at giving away money. I’ll also go public, get the press here to see the place and all my friends. Close your mouth, Seth.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Or we can do this. I’ll stay on the board, Skype in, never miss a meeting, and use my vast wisdom and experience to keep the ship pointing in the right direction. No big changes, no funny business. That’s my offer.”
Seth tossed his napkin on his plate. “Not much of an option.”
“Of course it is. If you fire me—or buy me out, however you want to sugar coat it—the company will take a huge hit and you’ll lose that inheritance, but you both can rebuild. However, if you take my deal, we’ll have much more comfortable Thanksgiving dinners.”
Cassandra laughed. “Good point.”
“We’ll have to run it by the Board,” Seth said.
“You do that.”
They ate in silence, Cassandra glancing at her father and brother, Seth keeping his eyes on his empty plate. They finished and Dad said, “Well, then. I suppose this weekend is over. I want to thank both of you for coming over.”
“Sure, Dad,” Cassandra smiled.
“Right.” Seth reached for the check.
They piled into the pickup and headed to the airport. Dad pulled up to the Gulfstream where the pilot waited. The steward grabbed their bags and Cassandra held out her hand to shake her father’s. “Thanks for showing us around.”
He swatted it aside and gave her a big hug. “I love you, Cassandra.”
“Um… me, too.”
Seth cleared his throat and shook his dad’s hand. “Very enlightening.”
“Right. I get the feeling you still consider me off the reservation.”
“Completely. Yes I do.”
“Cassandra?”
“I think you’re finding something, and perhaps I need to find it, too. Someday.”
He held her hands. “Don’t wait too long. You could lose your soul.”
“But you didn’t.”
“It could have ended differently. I don’t want you to get hard.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “I get it.”
“I hope you get it. I hope you both do.”
~
The plane taxied and took off, rocketing into the sky and reaching cruising altitude in a matter of minutes. The steward presented the siblings with drinks. Facing each other in the soft leather seats, they took sips and set the drinks down. Seth wiped the condensation off the side of the glass with his finger, wiped it on the napkin and sighed. “Our father lives in a cave.”
“A lava tube.”
Colorado
I stood at the edge of the viewpoint at Black Rock National Park and my sick mind came up with this scenario. It looked like a perfect spot for some guy to throw the wife over the edge. What a perfect crime. Toss in a little kid (bad choice of words) and he screws the whole thing up.
EYEWITNESS
Tom Gibbs walked down the rock steps toward the overlook.
“Stop there, Tom. Help me. Why aren’t you more caring?”
Elizabeth stood at the top of the rock steps, her lips tight. Elizabeth. Not Liz, not Beth. Certainly not sweetheart. He sighed and turned. Just a few more minutes. Put on his best smile.
“Okay, dear.”
Ten years. You don’t just kill someone without good planning. He held her hand as she walked down the stairs like a queen with her entourage. That’s how people screw it up. All these years, and it’s come to this.
He remembered the tipping point, the day she lashed out at him and he… snapped. One hot day he brought her a glass of ice water.
“You know I like the smaller glasses, dear.” Emphasis on ‘dear.’ Smarmy. Condescending.
He stopped trying that day. Ten years ago. And he was done. But rather than go off on emotion, he planned the event and acted like the loving husband, part of the alibi, the excuse, the reason he wouldn’t be suspected. Oh sure, they always suspect the spouse at first, but he planned this carefully. Three years ago he let her insurance policy lapse. That would deflect suspicion. They wouldn’t know it wasn’t about the money.
“Slow down.”
Brother! She’s on me for every little thing. His chest ached from his pounding heart. He glanced around the park, the path behind, the lodge above. He knew the place, considered every detail, so they would be just out of sight of the building. Even memorized the landscape below, so his chances of getting her to fall all the way to the bottom were maximized. No more than three seconds, watch and make sure she’d die, then run up the hill, crying and screaming for help. He even acted that out on a few solo camping trips.
He looked at her face from the side—her mouth in a permanent frown, her thin lips always tight. I want to see the shock in your eyes. May not get to see that, but it would be better.
Twenty-two years of marriage… of prison, really. It turned early from loving bliss to tolerance to… well… to this. He scanned the area. Still no one around, being off season. Perfect. Before them yawed Black Canyon, its sides plummeting a thousand feet to a river below. Trees clung to the sides like limpets, growing in impossible places. Elizabeth walked toward the fence and Tom steered her toward the right.
“What are you doing?”
“Better view from over here.”
He glanced back. The lodge hid behind a tree, not a soul around. He could hear the river below, a bird in a tree nearby.
“Tom, stop pushing me—”
He picked her up and heaved her over the side. She turned and fell, rotating onto her back in the sky. I will see her face! The shock, the surprise.
She let out an alarmed cry. Instead of falling into the abyss, she hit a rock bench on her back, with a loud crack. Her eyes met his. Instead of shock and surprise he saw… what? A question. Why?
She’s going to stay there, her back broken, the authorities will come and arrest me.
It seemed like an eternity as she paused on the lip, but for only a fraction of a second as the impact rolled her over the edge and she fell below and out of sight. Tom leaned over the rail and peered down. She flew into view once more—her body probably having bounced off a rock—her legs apart and one arm dangling, most likely broken. Then she flew out of view.
In spite of her light weight and the ease that he threw her over, he panted. Get a grip. She fell and you’re frightened and shocked. Do this!
He spun and headed for the steps when he heard a cry and saw movement in the brush. A boy.
~
Micah Blake loved spy games, and made it a habit of hiding and tracking and watching people. Yet this time a man threw a lady off the cliff! As soon as he saw it he let out a cry and headed to the path to find his parents. He bounded up the stairs, tears streaking down his cheeks. He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder as the man grabbed him and spun him around. The guy got low and looked him in the eye. His blue eyes pierced his soul.
“Son, you didn’t see anything. You got that? What’s your name?” His breath smelled like coffee.
>
“Micah Blake.” He pulled to slip the man’s grasp and run away, but the man held his arms in a vise.
“Micah Blake. Where do you live?”
“M-Montrose.”
“What’s your address?”
He told him.
“Okay. Now I know your name and where you live and if you tell anyone, I will kill you. You know I could now, don’t you?”
He nodded, a short, shaking move of his head.
“Okay, Micah.” He removed one hand and patted him on the shoulder. “This is our secret. No problem. I’m going up the hill. You stay here and compose yourself, okay? Then go find your mom and dad, right?”
He nodded again, unable to speak.
He stood and ruffled his hair. “Good boy.” The man walked away.
~
Tom walked toward the stairs, his footsteps heavy. Good grief! Ten years of planning and tripped up by a boy. He stopped and leaned over, his hands on his sides, panting like a runner after ten miles. Get a grip, man! Time for the shocked, frightened, grieving disbelief. Actually, the panting is okay. He took off up the stairs two at a time and ran to the lodge.
~
Micah wiped his nose on his sleeve and shivered. Looking around, he saw no one. He trudged up the steps. Must not tell. Like a secret agent, it’s my secret. Our secret. He spotted his dad in the parking lot, ran up and hugged his leg.
“Hey, Micah, we missed you. You at the overlook?” He nodded into his leg. “Okay, buddy. We’re going to head out.” He peeled him off his leg. “Hey, you all right?”
Micah wiped his nose. “Yeah.”
They walked to the car and Micah held his dad’s hand. Mom caught up with them and they piled into the car. Micah looked for the man through the back window before fastening his seat belt. No one.
“Dad? Mom?”
“Yes, son.”
“I need to tell you something.”
Dad turned as he started backing up. “What is it, son?”
“I saw something really bad.” Tears trickled down his cheeks and he wiped them with his fists.
Mom reached around and patted his knee. “What’s wrong, Micah?”
“Out… outside, at the… the canyon. A man threw his wife over the edge.”
Dad shook his head. “Micah. Really.”
The tears cut loose now. “Honest, Dad, I was hiding in the bushes. She wore brown pants and a red jacket and he just picked her up and threw he over like she was nothing. Then he watched… I mean he looked over the edge and then he heard me.” He stopped to sob and Dad shut off the car and looked at Mom. She shook her head.
50 Stories in 50 States: Tales Inspired by a Motorcycle Journey Across the USA Vol 5, The West Page 6