LOST HIGHWAY

by Zac Funstein

  “I believe I can see what’s happened now- a very minor calculation on paper when multiplied on a mass produced scale can have cataclysmic results.”

  “You are shrewd-shrewder than most. The decision to concentrate his researches on such rather than on geology was a critical step for Thiery Charlebois but proved an important aid. It was Charlebois-who had worked as an aid to Authier-who testified in court that this was what Onfroi had done. His prior geological research gave him a unique insight.”

  Charlebois could be seen now in court very smartly dressed in a very new serge suit with clearly an expensive well ironed shirt with unique cuffs that boasted dazzling links showing the emblem of some important country club or military regiment. No one liked dressing up more than Charlebois did.

  Thiery had done a year at Stanford in California- archaic law-school jargon still occasionally crept into his speech.

  “What was the courts judgment in this instance regarding the staining agent?”

  “That all products regardless of their purpose or origin if they utilized what became known as Melvilles Exception-that is explored the parameters of the pattern given then they would be banned from being imported into Canadian territory.”

  “What we have here is a prime example of Melvilles Exception I see!”

  “Whoever was the person responsible for attacking The teenager bought these from a USA source-it couldn’t have been Canadian it would have been banned.”

  “But USA covers a multitude of sins that is an awfully big land-mass.”

  “That’s the best we can do-we’ll try to narrow it down a little after a while. I want to say somewhere in NY but that’s a little too easy.”

  Odovacar tried to picture where Édouard had been seen before at least someone like him. It had been stood in a deep trench with members of various companies waiting for the all-clear to jump out then low crawl to the barbed wire. Usually about a person deep wide similarly deep, the trenches were guarded by barbed wire plus machine-gun posts. An artist who after art school served in the trenches throughout the First World War, an experience which produced his major works, had a lifelong interest in warfare/ soldiers. Édouard seemed like someone from one of these trenches of France/ Belgium. Maybe his grandfather who was Quebecois had served there.

  The agent arrived as estimated,despite getting stuck behind a construction truck that must have been on its way to the next widening project for roadblocks were established everywhere. This was one of his serious driving annoyances-the main one being the disabled parking spaces getting filled by cars belonging to able people-even though Mof wasn’t disabled. Following the directions precisely had paid off. Odovacar knew exactly what was going to happen when his loudly critical immediate superior called him in.

  Congratulations Odovacar you’ve managed to get ‘stressed out’, impatient plus irritable all in one.

  Moffin had considered showing his badge when first entering the tattoo parlour-(once a disused church). When in remote rural areas, tattooing retained its popularity (as it was connected with the local religion) but since the tattooist might be one who disliked authority however this formality was dispensed with.

  Odovacar was lead upstairs-an officer was checking a holdall presumably for weaponry-it contained towels, some gym clothes, plus other incidentals. Before the security officer had finished checking the athletic bag however, another man intervened. This caller tried to stay calm, knowing that similar angelic body guards were there that they would protect this bastion of security from this potentially hostile man (that was him); it was not wanted to make any sudden moves that might make the officer believe anything foolish was going to happen. Everyone in sight had weapons for one thing which made them even more threatening.

  “If you would come this way Mr. Moffin.”

  Odovacar who didn’t always follow advice-did just as told.

  Almandos Coronado Camarillo was there obese swarthy, quite cheerful looking as per usual-hunting through his personal effects like the security guard outside-in this case a waste-paper basket. Upon Moffin’s entrance Almandos stood up offering greetings (as per Lonfpré’s perfunctory manner) tall, slim of untidy appearance wearing a baseball cap, dark denim jacket plus chinos jeans-nothing had changed very much.

  “Why do we do accumulate, hoard, keep our personal-spaces in messy, untidy, disorganized clutter Odovacar?”

  The man's breathing was clearly deteriorating-since the turn in the veterans hospital.

  Untidiness was not unknown to the newly arrived. ‘Please put away your toys,’ Moffin had said to Ligia, just before leaving tripping over the random dismembered doll plus stray bits of crafting materials his eldest daughter kept in untidy piles throughout their residence, ‘otherwise I’ll have to be an angry Daddy then will throw everything all away’. Tolstoy-the great writer- was very enamoured by family life apparently, would come downstairs after a session writing- then seeing his family playing would be visibly moved, but Moffin did not share this affection. It just meant a hassle to him.Moffin was a reverse Tolstoy.

  “I don’t know Almandos-that question runs too deep for someone ordinary as myself. That isn’t why you’ve brought us here.”

  Next to a signed photo of a team of cricketers (agile young men in flannels/blazers, one of them carrying a long wicketbag) a framed picture is brought down from a nearby shelf then lovingly dusted. In it is the picture of what at first glance might be construed as twins but upon a closer glance is seen to be serious men of disparate ages.

  “Though both Laureates you see here Moffin have also made important contributions to the mathematical technique of linear programming, this was not what they were honored for; instead they received the Prize for enriching our understanding of basic economic issues in normative allocative theory by applying new tools of analysis.”

  “Time ‘n Motion experts.”

  Frank Gilbreth the apprentice bricklayer who noticed that bricklayers made many unnecessary motions in their craft had reared his ugly form once again.

  When the sonar operator says, ‘direct hit’, you yourself brace for the explosion of the depth charge thus did the newly arrived wait for the bombshell.

  “We are sitting on a wasteland of discarded potential Odovacar. You are wasted on the Schreiber case alone-we want to try a younger man. We’ve got to push ourselves out of that comfort zone.”

  The response was cold without the slightest trace of emotion.

  “Do you have anyone that fits your requirements Camarillo?”

  “Goliat Pina Rincón -might not be the most brilliant of scholars but I believe shows great promise. We want to try him anyway-give him a chance to show his mettle.”

  “A relation of my own who rose meteorically to the rank of matron had dispensed with all formal schooling almost from being a teenager, but that was in early Manitoba when by all accounts strange things happened. Many of her paintings represent scenes of charming bourgeois domesticity featuring members of her family, especially her daughter-but nowhere is there any reference to education.”

  “When we asked him if this was to his satisfaction Rincón replied how can I be so ungrateful when everything you have done thus far has been in my own better interests? This isn't just about a low-life, an ungrateful repugnant who participates in displays of idiocy.Goliat has real talent-with or without a degree.”

  As it happened Goliat’s reputation preceded him.

  “His dealings with the Georgia M. Soderquist carnage must put him in good stead-no one can fault him.”

  Soderquist was similar in many respects to Schreiber. Anyone involved must have been immediately considered.

  “Decisions are often based on general concepts of blameworthy or culpable conduct, but not on the precise interpretation of technical terms within the act, but I’m pleased to say that Goliat didn’t slack in any way-we should all be proud of him. Yes Soderquist was good.”

  “The investigator found that the council was not blameworthy of doing
anything wrong in the circumstances I believe-shoot us down if I’m wrong.”

  “Goliat Pina Rincón again must be thanked. Since the term ‘denim’ originates from the French town, ‘de Nîmes’, where the fabric is said to have first been produced I believe Rincón is especially suited since Goliat spent a stint there as an exchange ambassador.”

  “Who would have believed Levi Strauss, an enterprising immigrant who happened to have a few bolts of denim cloth lying around would have recognized a need for strong work pants in the mining communities of Southern California. When Levi first designed then marketed ‘Levi's’ whenever it was they have stayed essentially the same ever since; with only minor alterations to the original design.”

  “You don’t have any resentment against Rincón?”

  “Not a bit of it-let’s see what can be done-if his success can be capitalized upon.”

  When a man loses someone that has been close to him, then life has to go on despite switching onto automatic-pilot. Sometimes as now as Goliat Pina Rincón made his way into the lobby of the huge office building being burdened with the solution as to the Schreiber attacker helped him blot things out. Oppression could be replaced by happiness, prosperity, solid goals in life, worthwhile things that give him a sense of purpose. All Goliat needed to know, to get him on the correct track, is that there are well-disposed people who cared for him- wanted to help, wanted to see him put the past firmly there where it belonged in the past.

  When Rincón stopped working before they took him to a physician, who gave him cortisone shots, which if that wasn’t very odd, made his condition worse. Now the agent thanked God daily for that employment—it forced him to rely on things other than home or family. Some just allowed him to talk about it, even though they didn't realize it, helped him to vent the anger, frustration, that threatened to ruin him that once in while with increasing rarity spilled over. The turmoil that had invaded his family weighed him down so heavily, it seemed that it was all Goliat could do to make it through each session.

  Was the person that in the crushed suit with the tired expression (the owned that didn't have rips or pulls in the fabric) really him.

  ‘Most of my life I've preferred an older more mature man as opposed to the young energetic cutie,’ his partner Aimée Deblois used to say but it did nothing for his self-esteem. Aimée was only showing appreciation for his good behavior plus accomplishments- helping him actually. Goliat was who supersensitive knew Deblois was trying to help-couldn’t tolerate anyone teasing or making fun of him with the bullying heaped on top it was too much.

  Aimée could do/ say things that will make him consider changing, but there's nothing a woman can do to make a man change .You can't change your spouse. (It's been said that a woman marries a man anticipating change, a man praying this won’t happen). First of all, resistance must go out to those who try to change him, so instead of being what wanted, Rincón finds somebody who will let him be the person Rincón really is.

  A security guard not dissimilar to the personage that searched Odovacar’s effects views Goliat suspiciously as the elevator is made for.

  The security’s' gaze is extended by omnidirectional security cameras hidden under half-domes of dark Plexiglas located throughout the common area which whir suspiciously in his direction. If the guards see something or someone deemed suspicious they will pause the automatic rotation of the cameras to focus on them. After following the person's movement, the guard watching will call a guard patrolling telling him there is an ‘unwanted guest’ but on this occasion no such occurrence passes.'

  “Sir, are you going somewhere?”

  The new arrivee stopped in his tracks. It was someone official arranged at a desk.

  “I’ve come to see Mr. Grandbois,” mumbled Goliat.

  “I’ll see if Mr. Grandbois can entertain you,” said the security, looking askance at the caller, who caught his own reflection in the lens of the man's glasses-which returned a morphed version of himself. The guard on duty on the other end, alerted by the ringing, picked up the phone then called the apartment. After several rings, Xibby, the live-in housekeeper general underling, answered.

  “Mr. Grandbois is receiving callers at the moment. If you would go on up-your in luck-is in.”

  A secretary type who avoided her reflection in the panels of marble surrounding the even more polished elevator pressed the illuminated ‘up’ button.Ting. When the entrance opened, a woman spilled out with her children — one barely walking, the other in a stroller.

  Goliat watched her fold the stroller then negotiate the rotating glass entrance, finally take the steps to the sidewalk performing a juggling act holding aforementioned offspring plus shopping. Being a little on the windy made this more difficult-everything threatened to blow into the traffic.

  In the elevator having pressed the appropriate floor-the other person in the steel cage-once satisfied with her make-up, puts on her watch plus earrings. Briefly Goliat caught then studied her reflection in the floor- to-ceiling mirror grimaced at the pain etched on her features-probably some painful management decision that must be made.

  Goliat catches his own reflection again. Ting. When an older lady enters at the next floor this dynamic if noticed is ignored.

  The same age as his own mother the fellow traveller is hit by nostalgia. Patricia Rincón had died in a terrible car accident when her son was little older than the children seen negotiating the revolving entrance. When this unknown individual left it was wondered if a son of his age was hers. Did the unknown element see a man with tie askew pants wrinkled, shirt button undone, coif like it had been through a blizzard or her own progeny-it wasn’t known.

  “Can I borrow your brush please miss whoever you are?” asks Rincón.

  The young management type who was about to return a sparkly plastic version of the latter into a clutch bag which contained various makeup items meekly gave over the brush, then acted as mute witness to his attempts to appear smart; eventually the articles owner said “here allow us,” then began getting his crew-cut into shape before after returning this item to its home. The yuppie then got off at her stop.

  The sharp tingle of the bristles was all that was left.

  At the correct floor upon almost being rudely ejected a large sign informs Goliat that himself plus anyone who should imitate this lift-ride have arrived in the foyer of ‘Hiut Shuttle-less, Air-jet Projectile-looms’.

  Anyone tempted to conjure images of bleak satanic mills however is immediately discouraged for everywhere is suitably bright even airy. The receptionist far from being stolid is model-style even glamorous in a big city kinda way. It would not be inconceivable to visualize lots of cameras clicking away merrily trying to capture her essential je ne sait que.

  The only discordant note is the sound of what can only be called a rubber ball. After a few minutes the ball begins to bounce, gently at first, bounce, bounce bounce.....then faster and faster then stops.

  The noise was reminiscent of a game played in present-day Mexican state of Sinaloa where they indulged a version of the ancient Ulema. Maya terminology very likely resembles the sound the ball made as it was bounced around.

  The one thrown into this situation is the first to speak. Her name-badge read Telforda Dubeau.

  “I’d like to speak with Arridano Grandbois if remotely possible Miss Dubeau.”

  “My grandfather's had an accident. Arridano’s dead,” blurted the receptionist.

  “I was told by your counterpart downstairs that Mr. Grandbois was receiving.”

  “That’s Pomeroy Grandbois his son.”

  “Mr. Grandbois was your grandfather Telforda?”

  “Yes, Dubeau is my married-title. We-don’t ask it is too complicated to go into- were all very fond of him-the entire family is deeply distressed as you can picture. Arridano was wearing a bathrobe over pajama pants then knotted the robe-it was this they found him hung by. But why am I telling you this you wouldn't be here if you didn't believe there was so
mething unnatural about my grandfathers accident.”

  The receptionists French-twist as made de rigeur by the series Royale Laprise Private MD veritably bobbed with indignation.

  “Telforda it isn’t Arridano’s accident that disturbs us-although I am sure you are all greatly unsettled, but an accident of a more domestic kind. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. The denim that was found might have been made by one of your looms.”

  “The teenager found on that terrible stretch of road that has claimed so many victims-who hasn’t it is everywhere. That piece of tarmac must claim its last I swear. These children are so stupid to keep going there.”

  The embossed cloth-covered diary ( beautifully painted then embellished with a copper sheet that was first stamped then blind-embossed presumably with a metal stylus to press into the surface of the copper), that which on her the Florentine carved escritoire is examined.

  “Are here we are I must have missed it-it is Mr. Chapell you should see.”

  “Chapell?”

  “Jason A. Chapell our CEO. Jason has done much study on the effect on airless looms on fabric-how it effects wear tear-that sort of thing. Jason’s overcoat is there,” A coat-stand is indicated. “When people of dignity/ character go out, they first check their garments to be sure they are decorous, only then go outside. If his coat is there Jason will be in.” Jason was said with certain warmth as if the employer/staff parameters had been explored deeper. “Unfortunately Mr. Chapell has this thing about what is seen as interfering meddling female relatives my call might not be returned. ”

  Jason paunchy reaching retirement age had once been a fairly good baseball bastion but had only been in the majors for a short while. Jason’s forte was at the minor league level where the respective role of coach, player, manager plus player-manager were his before his insensitive remarks got the better of him. Telforda continued her unabashed appraisal of Rincón as the buzzer to the inner office was pressed. This sounded- Telforda's voice crackled from a speaker on a desk. “Excuse us, sir. A Mr. Rincón to see you.”