by Jake Devlin
"Yeah, yeah."
"And your buddies here are also from New Jersey?"
"Yeah, yeah."
“All of them?”
“Yeah.”
"And you probably think you're pretty tough guys and your shit don't stink, right?"
"No, no ... owww ... well, okay, okay. Yeah."
"And you also probably think any girl would be happy to, as you say, suck your dick, right?"
"Okay. Right."
"Well, you can learn some things pretty fast, at least. Now, do you see those two signs just north of us there, one brown, one blue?"
"Yeah."
"Can you read what the bottom one says? Oh, can you read?"
"Yeah, I can read. It says 'Entering Lee County.'"
"And you are going back north when?"
"Sunday."
"I want you to listen very closely to what I am about to tell you. If I see you OR any of your buddies south of that sign at any point between now and then, you will find out precisely what your tiny little dick and your testicles taste like, and you will also probably bleed out in less than half an hour ... and your body will NEVER be found. Do you understand what I just told you?"
"Um, yeah."
"And will you all stay north of that sign ... no, stay away from this entire beach until you head home?"
"I ... ow ... okay, okay."
"Say it."
"I will stay north of that sign ... away from this whole beach."
"And your buddies will, as well. I'm holding you responsible for them, too; you will suffer if they break my rule. Do you understand?"
"Yeah."
“What is it you understand … precisely?”
“I will suffer if my buddies break your rule.”
“Very good, Jerry Hagopian.
"Now all you guys, listen up. You have seen how I have humiliated and frightened your buddy Jerry here, right?" The buddies all nodded.
"When I let him go, he's going to try to compensate for that, and you will probably hear him saying lots of stuff, blustering and full of himself, lots of bravado. He'll probably even call me a bitch, or worse, and he'll need to do that for the sake of his little ego, and you all need to be very gentle with him until he figures out that his behavior and attitude toward women is completely unacceptable.
“In fact, Jerry Hagopian, I believe that your college has an introductory course in Women and Gender Studies, and you will take that course as soon as you can register for it. Perhaps that will teach you to have some respect for women, which you have obviously not learned to have up to now. Do you understand?"
"I ... ow ... okay."
"That course number is ... let me see ... WS 988, colon, 201, and you WILL register and take it, AND get at least a B in it."
"How do you ... ow!"
"When you DO get home, I will be sending someone to watch you and, if necessary, have a further little chat with you on the subject of gender and respect. She will be as firm as I am, possibly even firmer, and you will do precisely what she tells you to do, especially about fixing your attitude. She may also have to have a talk with your father, Harry, at his clothing store, with your mother, Naomi, and even with your sisters, Harriet and Stephanie."
"Wait, wait. How do you ... yeeoww!"
"I have access to lots of information; you don't need to know how. Just know that you can't hide from me and my allies. You will be watched and you will never know who may be with us. If you remember nothing else after you sober up, you will remember that. Now get your buddies and your stuff and get your pathetic little dicks and asses out of here. And don't let me ever see you again."
A moment later, Carie leaned in to Jill and said, "Amazing how fast some people can move when they're motivated, huh?"
"Uh-huh. And you know, CB, I almost had some fun with that. And, Sharon, thanks for the research."
Sharon's raspy female voice came thru her earbud. "No problem, kid; that's part of what I'm here for."
"And, Carie Berry, you know what really annoys me?"
"What, Jillybean?"
"Assholes like that are allowed to vote."
Down by the waterline, Jake caught Pam's eye and said, “Wonder what that was all about.”
“I don't know, couldn't hear, but she sure took charge, didn't she?”
“Oh, yeah. Guess the ditzy chicks aren't all that ditzy.”
“Told you they were pros.”
“Don't think I'll take the other side of that bet.”
Pam held her index finger and thumb slightly apart and let Jake, but no one else, see it. Jake nodded and held his own digits a good bit further apart. Pam nodded and they both got up.
“We'll watch your stuff,” Norm and Janet said in unison.
“Get ready, Sharon,” Jill whisper-giggled into her beach bag.
-106-
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
4:55 p.m.
The Oval Office
Washington, DC
The five Broadway union bosses were standing and fidgeting in front of Donne's desk when Emily and five more Secret Service agents and three private guards escorted Ms. Skinner and her three associates and their four clients in, all eight handcuffed.
Shockingly thin and disheveled, the men unshaven, but all belligerently resistant, they stood as stolidly as they could to either side of the Broadway guys, whose faces showed their dismay at the appearance of, but solidarity with, their union cronies. Donne let them stew in their own juices for a long three minutes as he looked intently through a stack of papers on his desk. Finally, glancing up, he spoke.
“Well, boys and girl, now we come down to the nitty-gritty. I do hope you're all ready; I don't think it will be pretty.”
Ms. Skinner wavered a bit and Donne said, “Ms. Skinner, you look a bit faint. There's a chair behind you. Sit down, if you like.”
“I'll stay standing, Mr. Donne.”
“Your choice. But feel free to sit if and when you want to.
“Now, excluding the lawyers, there are nine of you who are facing a serious choice. Four of you have already made the wrong one, and five of you have indicated you want to make that same choice. I think you should take a close look at your four buddies and think very carefully about what the choices you make in a few moments will mean to your individual futures. Take a close look, and note that their condition is only the beginning. It's only been three months. Study them closely and think. I'll give you a few moments.”
Donne looked back down at the papers he'd been studying and continued to read them and make occasional notes on a separate notepad.
After what seemed an eternity to everyone in the room but Donne, he looked up and said, “Ms. Skinner, you're looking even more faint. Please sit.” She reluctantly complied, but maintained as hostile an expression as she could muster.
“Good, good; I hope you start feeling better soon. All that tofu does have an effect, doesn't it?
“Now, you Broadway boys, I have found you guilty and passed sentence on you and your families and cronies. Now, I don't do this often … in fact, this is a first for me … but I'm going to give you a chance to convince me to set those findings and those sentences aside. So take a moment, gather your thoughts and when you're ready, go ahead.”
After a few moments of silence, Donne added, “I'm sure you were talking amongst yourselves in the other room, so why don't you pick one of you and just spit it out? Let me know when you're ready.” He went back to the papers on his desk, ignoring everyone in the room.
The Broadway guys fidgeted, looked at each other and the other union bosses and their attorneys, gathered together and whispered to each other for a few minutes. Then the head of the stagehands union cleared his throat.
“Mr. Donne?”
Donne held up an index finger, wrote another note on his pad, made a mark on the papers in his hand, put them in his outbox and then looked up.
“Yes?”
“We … we ...”
“You need to us
e the facilities?”
“N-n-no, sir.”
“Well, then, spit it out, man. Don't waste my time.”
“We can –“ he looked at his cronies for confirmation; they nodded. “We will get our people back to work tomorrow.”
Ms. Skinner spoke from her chair. “No, no, you --”
But she was cut off as a plexiglass-encased half-wheel snapped from the floor in front of the chair, rotating over and around her and the chair, encasing her completely. After a moment, she began beating on the plastic in front and on both sides, with no effect. Donne ignored her and continued as if nothing had happened.
“For the matinees?”
“Uh … yes, sir. For the matinees.” His cronies nodded, glancing at Ms. Skinner in her cage, yelling soundlessly.
“Well, that's a step in the right direction. And how about the losses the producers have sustained and refunds to ticket holders for the dark nights?”
“Uh --”
“You do understand that you are the cause of those losses, of course?”
“I --”
“And you and your members should take responsibility for them, wouldn't you agree?”
“Uh --”
“A simple yes or no will suffice.”
“Uh … yes, sir.”
“Good, good. I will expect to see your unions making full restitution for all of that. Too bad you can't use your strike funds, the ones I froze in December.
“Now, what do you need to do to get your people back to work?”
“Uh, a few phone calls.”
“Emily, would you give them back their phones?”
“Yes, sir.”
She beckoned to one of the guards, who brought a box over, from which each union boss took his phone after being unhandcuffed.
“Make the calls, gentlemen. They will be recorded. I'll wait.”
He went back to his papers, ignoring them as they each began to comply.
After a few moments, Emily spoke up. “Mr. Donne?”
“Yes, Emily?”
“You may want to do something about her.”
“About – oh.” He looked over at Ms. Skinner, who was now gasping for breath and beating weakly on the glass of her cage. Donne reached under his desk and a nozzle extended itself from the side of Ms. Skinner's chair, releasing a spurt of pale blue smoke.
“Ooops,” Donne said and moved his hand again. The smoke was blown away from the nozzle, and Ms. Skinner began to breathe a bit better, but still gasping. After a few moments, her breathing returned to normal and the belligerent look returned to her face. Donne returned his attention to the papers on his desk.
A few moments later, the head of the stagehands union spoke up. “All set, Mr. Donne.” Donne held up an index finger, finished with the set of papers in front of him, carefully placed them in his outbox and looked up.
“Good, good; a step in the right direction.
“Now, as to restitution, I've got the totals here.” He picked up a stack of papers from his desk and held them up. “I will leave it up to you five to determine how to split those costs, but I expect to see those funds transferred by the close of business tomorrow.”
“I'm not sure we can --”
“I am absolutely certain that you can … and will. If not, I will impose a fine equivalent to the total of these totals for each day you fail to comply. Each day. Do you understand?”
“I – ah … yes, sir.” He looked to the others, who all nodded sullenly.
“And since you are the one person who spoke up, I will hold you personally responsible for the performance of your buddies here. Do you understand that?
“But I --”
“I didn't ask for an objection. I asked if you understood. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” was the sullen reply.
“Good, good. Another step in the right direction.
“I have not yet decided whether to set aside the sentences I imposed earlier, but I will suspend them temporarily, and I will be watching very closely to see how well you all … all … comply with my orders and directives.
“I have ordered several members of the military to oversee your members' activities at each theater, and I expect you to make sure none of your members does anything less than his or her very best at their jobs, for each and every performance. Do you understand that?”
“Uh, yes, sir.”
“Good, good.
“I will also be sending a representative to facilitate good-faith negotiations between you and the producers for new and fair contracts. He or she will act with my full authority and will have absolute veto power over any parts of any proposal that seem to him or her to be out of line. He or she may also simply impose contract terms that make sense to him or her. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you also understand that another strike is not an option in your negotiating tactics?”
“Uh --”
“Do NOT waste my time. Do you understand? No strikes?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.
“Finally, do you understand that if you do encourage a strike, directly or indirectly, I will immediately rescind my suspension of your sentences?”
“Uh --”
Donne waved an index finger once.
“Yes, sir.”
“Emily, see these gentlemen out, give them each a DVD of our time together, at our expense, and get them transport back to New York, at their expense, or let them arrange their own, if they prefer.”
“Yes, sir.
“Gentlemen?”
The five were escorted out, leaving Donne and the four attorneys and their clients alone with the agents and guards. Donne went back to his papers until Emily returned a few moments later.
“All taken care of, Mr. Donne.”
“Good, good.
“Now, gentlemen and … oh.” He reached under his desk and the plexiglass cage rotated back under the floor, leaving Ms. Skinner breathing room air again. She climbed quickly out of the chair, her chest heaving, and headed toward Donne's desk, fists clenched.
“You – you --” she spluttered.
-107-
Thursday, March 15, 2012
11:43 a.m.
Bonita Beach, Florida
“Oh, geez, not yet for me,” Pam spluttered.
“At least you gave it a try, and almost all the way in,” Jake replied.
“I don't know how you can stand it.”
“It's not that bad, Pam. Plus, I made the resolution, and I always stick to my resolutions.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. Back when I was a teenager, I made one to never eat broccoli, asparagus, brussels sprouts, cauliflower, turnips, kale and a bunch of other stuff like that … oh, and tofu ... and I've stuck to that one for nearly fifty years.”
“Really?”
“Yup. And I've done the same with this one; only missed twice, and that's because the rains came in early, about 10:30.”
“Well, that's forgivable, I guess,” she said, wrapping herself in her towel and shivering in her chair.
“Yup. And it's getting a little warmer now, so it's not as bad as a month ago.”
“What'd I hear? 71 degrees?”
“That's about right.”
“But why did you make that resolution in the first place?”
“I don't know; it was a pretty stupid ass one. But later on, I came up with three justifications.”
“Yeah?”
“Or maybe rationalizations.
“First, the salt water's good for my aging shoulder joints.”
“Okay.”
“Second, the showers don't feel quite as cold after being in the Gulf.”
“Yeah.”
“And back in January and February, when the water was ten degrees colder, I was shivering so much I'm sure I was losing at least a pound a minute.”
Pam chuckled. So did the Mimosa twins, but quietly; Sharon's raspy roar echoed in
their earbuds.
“So every day?”
“If I come to the beach, yeah, up to my neck. Oh, I skipped the couple weeks after I got those stitches last summer; doctor's orders.”
“Forgivable.”
“Right.”
“The ones on your shoulder have healed up pretty well; just a small scar.”
“Matches the one on your left shoulder.”
“Symmetry.”
“Mirror images.”
Pam sighed. “I love it when they rub together.”
“So do I, ma'am,” Jake drawled, smiling.
“Let's do that again soon, Tex.”
“Tex?”
“When you drawl, it sounds like Texas.”
“And yours is like a fine Southern belle, maybe Georgia or South Carolina.”
“Like Myrtle Beach?”
“Well, MB is more of a tourist town, so lotsa mixed accents there. But Savannah, now, you'd fit right in.”
“Why, I thank you ver' much fo' that, suh.”
“Yore quat welcome, Belle.”
“Belle? Hmm. I like that.” She pulled her towel away and lay back, soaking up the sun. “Oh, that feels a lot better. I do love the sun.”
“That's two of us. I'll bet you missed it a lot on that London job.”
“Oh, yeah, but that was January, and only a week.”
“And it was a little chilly here that week. I think I only got to the beach three days.”
“Wow. Did you have withdrawal pains?”
“If they'd been in a row, I probably would have.”
“I'd love to be as addicted as you are.”
“You're getting there.”
“I love the summer here.”
“Yup. Warmer water, no crowds.”
“Like now. What'd you guess, a thousand people today?”
Jake sat up and looked around. “Maybe; I can't count crowds well.”
“Used to do that all the time in the Service. If you like, I'll show you how.”
“Nah, I'll leave that to you; you're the expert. It is really crowded, though. And not just on the beach.”
“At least we were able to get into Pineapple Pete's, with that great bay view, for Marti's birthday party.”
“Well, her sister reserved the tables in the chickee.”