Blackwater

by Paul McParland

  Austin Carragher traveled back and forth during the remainder of their college days, spending less time back home as his mother recovered.

  When he had graduated and found a place at a reputable law firm in New York, he moved into his childhood home to care for his mother with his younger sister’s help.

  This division of time did not allow him to perform his career obligations to his boss’ satisfaction. Unlike James’ career move, Austin’s boss spoke with him about the need for a more committed partner. He gave Austin the time to find another, more appropriate place.

  During this period, Mrs. Carragher’s condition worsened again. She passed away quickly. Austin could have tried to keep his job in New York but he had become jaded with the fast-paced city. He was ready for a slower lifestyle.

  Austin discovered Pittsfield during a detour on his way to Albany, New York for an interview. There had been a pile up on the I-87 and he was forced to cut through Pittsfield. He had seen the tiny practice for sale. The old attorney had worked there for the last 50 years; he was the town’s sole legal representation. Austin ventured into the offices of Michael Carpello who had finally decided to retire.

  Inside he found the old lawyer sitting behind a large oak desk; a telephone on one end and a small stack of paper and folders on the other. In the center along with a yellow legal pad, was a mug of pens from a variety of sources; other law firms, restaurants, pharmaceutical companies. At the front of the desk was a dark wood name plate with ‘Michael Carpello’ imprinted in deep gold lettering.

  The office was bare except for the, probably very expensive, desk. The waiting room of his office was three hard-back chairs and a coffee percolator by the door.

  There was no one in the waiting room. Austin knocked on the open door. The milk-bottle spectacled man looked up from his work, his eyes taking a second to focus on the doorway. He finally saw Austin standing there.

  “Hello, sir. I saw your sign in the window. I would be interested in taking over your legal practice.” Austin said sheepishly. He didn’t know if he was broaching the subject in the correct manner; he wasn’t exactly schooled in the founding of one’s own legal practice.

  Carpello blinked. His black bushy eyebrows which almost met in the middle, knitted together in concentration. His snow white hair was at odds with them.

  “Aren’t you a little too young to be looking into your own practice?” The old man asked.

  “Well I was on my way to an interview but I saw this place and thought it would be worth a look...” Austin ventured into the room, moving slowly as to not rile the crotchety fellow.

  He found himself at a chair opposite Carpello. He sat.

  “It’s a tough break having your own practice.” Carpello showed little emotion.

  “I'm sure, Mr. Carpello. I can deal with it though. My mother recently passed away. I had moved back to New Jersey to care for her whilst I worked at Erskine and Co. in New York. Now she's gone, I felt it was time to move on...”

  Carpello removed his glasses and laid them carefully in front of him. He narrowed his eyes at the young lawyer.

  “It’s hard losing loved ones....my dear wife passed away five years ago...not a day goes by that I don’t miss her terribly...”

  Austin thought he saw Carpello wipe tears from his eyes.

  “Erskine eh? Good practice. My buddy from college worked there. Jim Brown? Probably retired now. I'm from New York originally. Italian...” he winked at Austin.

  “Mr. Brown was my boss actually!” Austin offered excitedly.

  Carpello clapped his hands together. “Well there you go!” He laughed. “Small world, eh?”

  “Mr. Brown was very nice to me. He probably should have fired me, given my priority to my mother over the office, but he was very understanding and allotted me time to look elsewhere.” Austin smiled.

  “Ah old Jim’s a goomba! Great guy!” Carpello stared off into the distance.

  15

  Carragher and Carpello talked for hours about their childhoods in New York.

  Carpello told Austin about his studies and how he had started off in Boston of all places, the cases he worked on as a young man, and his eventual marriage and move to Pittsfield in the later years.

  His wife Marilyn had wanted their children to grow up in the city. She did not want them going to college and being blinded by the bright lights of New York or LA. She had a fear of them being seduced by drugs and alcohol. Michael Carpello’s fear was that the kids would stay in his home forever.

  When his son and daughter had graduated from college and found their respective careers; Cathy became a doctor whilst Michael Jr. carried on his father’s legacy by becoming a lawyer. They both lived in Boston.

  Michael had divorced twice. Both marriages were short-lived at five years total. He had an eight year old son whom he never saw except for holidays. He and his mother moved to Florida where she remarried.

  Cathy, on the other hand, married her high school sweetheart and had three children. They were in high school themselves now and the eldest Matthew was looking at colleges in California. He was thinking of becoming a veterinarian.

  As Austin sat and listened to Michael Carpello talk about his family, he realized that he had no one apart from his sister – no wife, not even a girlfriend. All his work colleagues were mere acquaintances, and his friends from college were spread around the country, mostly on the other side from him.

  Austin had been so focused on caring for his mother he let his twenties pass him by. He decided then and there in the office of Michael Carpello that he would definitely take over the offices and he would start living his life.

  He would work here doing legal favors and jobs for the townsfolk, and then he would find himself a nice girl to love.

  Austin never turned up for his interview that day; he stayed in Pittsfield for a week. He visited Michael Carpello in his home and they spoke more over dinner. They watched the Yankees on TV, careful to not let anyone else know for fear of Red Sox reprisals.

  Carpello introduced him to people around town. He told them that Austin would take over the practice but not to worry, he was a superb lawyer.

  Austin returned to New Jersey just once. He packed all his belongings into his car and several cardboard boxes, kissed his sister goodbye and drove, never to return.

  Carpello stayed on for several weeks, helping Austin get started; comfortable with the work and being on his own.

  That was it then, Austin Carragher took over the practice, lending his name to it, along with that of his predecessor as a mark of respect.

  16

  “James! Great to see you again!” A widow-peaked face said. Austin Carragher was in James’ class for the entire time at college. They were not the closest of friends but they were friendly enough that James felt comfortable asking for Austin’s help.

  “Austin, you're looking well!”

  He wasn’t. At college, Austin had been a tall lanky guy with a mop of curly hair that when straightened, as he was apt to do as a party trick, would reach down to his nipples. Now, however, he was almost bald and had gained quite the paunch.

  “Don’t be a dick, man! I do not look good. You on the other hand....you look a million bucks!”

  James had not worn a suit in so long; it felt odd being in one again. He was in his British Savile Row best. At Wade & Wilson, this had been a very unremarkable choice. Here in Small Town, USA, he looked every part of the ‘big city lawyer’; high profile clients need only apply.

  “Eh...yea, thanks I guess...I’m kinda overdressed, huh?” James rubbed the back of his neck nervously, looking at the ground.

  “Not when you're at Wade & Wilson...”

  Austin looked James over soberly.

  “You heard I was at Wade & Wilson?” James said uneasily.

  “Everyone heard!” Austin winked.

  James thought he was about to vomit, “Heard what?”

  “That you got canned for porking your secretary!” Aus
tin let out a huge belly laugh.

  James began to sweat. His collar felt tight now. Was this how every interview would go? Or at least how the formal interviewers could be informally thinking? If so, James’ chance at a decent placement would be scarcely thin.

  “Oh god!” he moaned as he put his head in his hands. He doubled over.

  “Dude, chill! I was only busting your balls!” Austin put his hand on James back. “Come on and sit down.” He led James into the single office and to one of the comfortable leather chairs positioned in front of the same oak table where Michael Carpello had sat. The name plate on the desk now read ‘Austin Carragher’ in the same gold lettering.

  “I wasn’t the only one, you know! I...I know that doesn’t excuse my having an affair but I certainly ain’t gonna let them tell everyone I'm some sort of creep!”

  James breathed heavily. He was trying to find some sort of order to his words. “Everything was great ‘til I broke it off with Jayne. I felt I had to tell my wife. I don’t know why, it wasn’t like I was leaving her. I didn’t really know how I felt ‘bout anything.”

  It was all coming out in a great rush of near-hysteria. “Yea, me and Karen weren’t doing great but that was all me. I was home late and wasn’t affectionate towards her but that was all ‘cos of Jayne... I couldn’t look Karen in the eye I felt so guilty about it all. I didn't call it off though...so I can’t really blame anyone else for letting it escalate...”

  “So what happened in the end?”

  “Well I told Karen. She didn’t seem overly upset, I think she suspected something. She remained calm. I freaked out and realized I was losing my family. Karen was pregnant with our second child, Sophie. I decided that I wanted my family more than I wanted some young girl.”

  Austin nodded and shrugged. “I know the feeling. Before I bought this place, I realized I’d achieved nothing personally. Sure, I had a great job in New York, but when Mom died...I saw that I had no one left to care for, and more importantly, to care for me.”

  “Sorry to hear about your mum, Austin...” James remembered the days following Austin’s sudden departure, as well as his sudden return. It was quite the talk of the law faculty. Lecturers and students informed one another of the various updates. James was sure many of them were just pure fabrication for gossip, because as far as James knew, no one had actually spoken with Austin in the time he was missing.

  “Thanks. She only died last year. Lasted longer than anyone thought!” A smile of sadness rose slightly at the left side of his mouth.

  “And is that when you came out here?” James asked, desperate to change the subject to something more positive.

  “Yeah, I was on my way to an interview in Albany and ‘cos of some crash on the road, got detoured to here. I like to think it was divine intervention.” Austin smirked ruefully. “So how did you find out I was here, you never said on the phone?”

  “Oh, Angie, your sister told me. I saw her on a trip to New York a few years back. I was in Bloomingdale’s getting Karen a perfume she had asked for, and guess who was standing beside me?” James smiled. “Ms. Angie Carragher! We got to talking about life and she said you up-and-left for Norman Rockwell Land!”

  Austin laughed. “Yeah...Angie didn't quite understand my need to leave.”

  “So did you find what you were looking for?”

  “You mean a girlfriend?” Austin sniggered.

  James paused. “Was that what you needed in the end?”

  “A man hasn’t had sex in eight years and you ask if he needed a girlfriend to make him happier?!” Austin threw a rubber band he had been playing with at James. “I thought you were meant to be bright, James!” He laughed. James did as well.

  “Yeah. I’m engaged to a local girl. Susie. Susie Benton. She works at the diner on Fenn Street. That's how I met her. I always go in there for coffee and pie after work. She always serves me. She eventually told me she thought I was cute. I said she was cute. Ba-da-bing. Love. Music. Romance. Any questions?” Austin said nonchalantly. He seemed almost inconvenienced by the story telling.

  “Ba-da-bing?” James said smirking.

  “My mentor was Italian, dammit!” Austin laughed.

  “Okay. How ‘bout we cut to the chase? I'm in desperate need of a job, man. You wouldn’t happen to be looking a partner would you? It’s really lovely here.” James pleaded.

  Austin shook his head and made a squeaking noise with his lips. “I'm sorry, James, I really am, but I don’t think there’s a need for two lawyers in town. There's just not enough people, never mind crimes and misdemeanors to occupy us!”

  James nodded and placed his chin in his cupped hands. His elbows supported on his knees. He guessed he would have to continue on his road trip of the East Coast’s lesser known areas.

  “But...I can ask around. See if any of the other towns in the county are looking someone...”

  “Thanks, Austin. I was gonna head onto Poughkeepsie to see if I could get anywhere there. It’s only another hour and a half, before heading back home. I’ll be back home in 3 hours.”

  The pair shook hands and James took his leave.

  “James!” Austin had come running out to the car. “What’s your phone number so I can ring you?”

  “Duh! Sorry, here...” James grabbed a pen from the glove compartment and wrote his number on a scrap piece of paper he found in there.

  Austin handed James a business card. It was not ivory embossed with Silian Rail lettering. It was a flimsy, plain white card with Times Roman print. That such a thing popped into James’ head, and his momentary disparagement of Austin Carragher, made James hate himself. He had hated his father and his self righteous, judgmental attitudes. He had sworn he would never become like that, and yet, here he was with barely eight years service at Wade & Wilson, and he had become the pompous lawyer he had grown up hating.

  “Nice business card.” James said with an encouraging smile.

  “Stop bullshitting, James!” Austin laughed. “You're terrible at it...it’s a simple card for a simple lawyer. It’s all I need.”

  17

  Taconic State Parkway was the fastest route to the county seat of Dutchess County. James had the company of Led Zeppelin again to keep him sane on the drive; the oversized 8-track cartridge protruding from the center of the dashboard. The highway was a lot less monotonous this time with the beautiful state forest surrounding the three-lanes. ‘Battle of Evermore’ seemed more hypnotic than ever.

  Poughkeepsie was a much bigger town than Pittsfield. A 35,000-numbered population replaced the few hundred residents of the lake side town. There was bound to be the need for more than one attorney at any of the law practices in town.

  James knew no one in Poughkeepsie. He did not know where to start but Yellow Pages would give him a head start in his search.

  Driving down St Clinton Street to Reservation Square, he spotted a phone box. He pulled up at the side of the road. He got out of his car and made his way to a phone box situated outside a heating and cooling installers.

  The air conditioning and boiler fitters claimed they had been Hudson Valley’s number one choice since 1956.

  He opened the door of the phone box and grabbed the phone book. Turning towards the business section, he drew his thumb down the contents, eventually finding ‘Attorneys at Law’. Flicking through the book, licking his thumb a few times to allow him to turn the microscopically thin pages, he found the relevant section. There were about twelve entries. James started his search.

  McCabe &Varble were not the sort of operation that James was looking for. They dealt with high profile cases, or at least as high profile as upstate New York managed. James rang the practice and enquired about open positions, of which there were some, but James told the light, elegant-voiced secretary who answered that he was ‘taking a step back to focus on his family’ and wouldn’t be looking for a court centric placement, but more family law based.

  The secretary was very helpful and informed James tha
t Green & Co. were the legal establishment that James was seeking.

  James thanked the woman for her time and hung up.

  “Green...Green...” James said as he moved his finger down the list. Something about the name sounded familiar.

  He found the number and dialed it. The brrr of the line was short-lived. Another female voice answered, but this time it was a more mature, harsh voice.

  “Hi, I was looking to take a step back from a high profile defense position in Boston. Someone recommended me your practice as a reputable family law firm. There wouldn’t happen to be any open positions, or any ideas of where is looking another partner?” James effected his best attorney tone without sounding too ‘Wade & Wilson’, and coming off as a prick.

  “I know that Mr. Green was looking to take on another partner as the practice is growing. Hold on one second, sir. May I have your name?” This lady must smoke. The voice could not have occurred naturally. Her rasp would be legendary otherwise.

  James gave her his name and informed her of his previous employment. She said she would check back with James in a minute.

  James stood in the phone box, the provided pen being twirled incessantly in his fingers. He had adopted this habit when he was studying. He felt it focused his mind. Annoyed the shit out of his peers in study hall when they were forced to watch out of their peripherals the non-stop motion of pencils, pens and anything else that James had at hand. James was desperately trying to place where he knew the name, Green.

  “Jimmy...come to fuck up my practice?” the voice was instantly recognizable. Todd Green. He had been another classmate of James’. This was not one to call a favor on. He had been jealous of Karen and James from the outset.

  He was from a long line of high profile defense lawyers. Todd’s father had defended the mob. His grandfather had been an attorney for rich white supremacists who had not taken kindly to the rights that negroes were being given. Todd’s grandfather was a firm believer in capital punishment.