A lovely lady whose name I had forgotten chimed in.
“Oh, I agree. Those super rich bastards only care about lining their own pockets with profits, stolen from the poor working class. Wall Street is destroying America.”
Her husband who owned a local car dealership, nodded in agreement.
“Even though we as a nation have chosen a progressive course, corporate America has spent billions of dollars buying politicians, so they can get support for their own economic benefit. They produce their goods overseas, they pay little to no tax in America, and they control our government with their crony capitalism.”
I was reminded again; this was why I didn’t like dinner parties. There was usually someone who dominated the conversation and political discussions were particularly annoying. We live in a nation with a population of more than three hundred million people. We are ruled by less than seven hundred professional politicians, who ostensibly represent us. Virtually all of the politicians are wealthy. Most of the rest of us are not. It is only one of the many ways in which our system is broken.
“Well, if we don’t get our spending under control we’re going to face an un-payable debt. We can’t continue to run the country on borrowed money. Sooner or later we will have that debt called. What will happen to our children and grandchildren if that happens?” Maria asked.
“My dear lady, that’s nonsense! If we avoid the neocon approach to fiscal management, the federal deficit will be brought under control within the next sixteen years. Those greedy conservatives and the corporate fools, who control them, would steal the food from, and deny medical care for, our poorest and most vulnerable citizens. That kind of conservative thinking has been the cause of untold oppression of minorities, gay people and women.” Calvin stated
“Well then, we are going to have to raise taxes across the board. We have to increase income to offset debt. The money has to come from somewhere. The tax rate will have to be raised for every American, no matter his level of income. Everyone will have to pay their fair share,” Jim said.
“No, if we do that, the rich will find a way to avoid it. The big corporations will get richer and the ordinary American will get poorer. As I said, we must not go down the old path of conservative thinking. We must once again raise taxes on the wealthiest Americans and on those greedy corporations. If we continue to redistribute their wealth, everyone benefits.” Calvin replied.
He looked at me.
“You’ve been very quiet. What is your opinion, Mr. Tucker?”
I considered my answer. I decided to speak to the heart of the problem.
“I believe most people everywhere are stumbling around in twilight. They choose to live in shadow and twilight because they hate the light and they fear the darkness. Their thoughts, conversations and behavior are based on this hate and fear. Most of them have chosen leaders who are themselves blind. Trapped between the light and the darkness, they band together in the twilight, hoping they will not have to go in either direction. Everyone has an opinion and everyone is right in his own eyes. The road there in the twilight is broad and accommodates everyone. There is room for stumbling around. That wide road, in the twilight, eventually leads to destruction and death.
There is another road, but it is narrow and people shun it. The narrow road is hard to find and it’s a difficult climb. It’s completely out in the light, so it hurts the eyes of those who love the twilight. There have always been very few who choose this road, and fewer who succeed at walking in the light, but the narrow road leads to eternal life.”
“Is that some kind of quote from the bible? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means, I believe those whom we have chosen to govern, often fail to realize they are unable to manage the complexities of these issues, without recognizing their own weakness and human limitations. When they think they are wise, they fool themselves. When they think they are powerful, they are but pawns in a bigger game. For these reasons, and others, I don’t put my hope or trust in either the government or in any political leaders”
“Are you saying you don’t vote? That’s very foolish and un-American. Voting is the greatest privilege and responsibility of our Democratic Republic. We are a government ‘of the people, by the people and for the people’.”
“I do vote, Mr. Worthington. I agree, voting is a responsibility and a privilege.”
“I don’t understand you at all.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I think what Mr. Tucker is trying to say is that he’s a simple man who believes these issues are a bit too complex for him to understand. I’m right there with him,” One of the ladies suggested.
There were a lot of knowing glances exchanged.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. My point is there is a God in heaven and He is sovereign over all things, including the affairs of men. He has a standard by which He judges both men and nations. He blesses a nation which honors Him. Those who do not honor Him are not blessed. I trust in the Lord. I know He has a plan and He will bring it to fruition.”
Mr. Worthington threw his hands up.
“Well, there you have it. It’s this kind of magical thinking, so common among you narrow minded, religious right wingers, which renders you stupid. Enlightened conversation is not something you people can attempt. Reality is beyond your limited grasp, because you believe in things that are not real. For you, it is all about voices in your head, fairy tales and “pie in the sky, by and by.”
I caught his eye.
“I would prefer it if you would not tell me what I believe, Mr. Worthington. You are someone who claims to be tolerant of people who are different from you, yet it is apparent you are not tolerant of people who have a different value system from yours. Are you uncomfortable with basic truth?”
He looked away.
“No, it isn’t that, no, not at all. It is quite the opposite in fact. Evidently, you were not listening to me. You would all do well to pay attention to what I tell you. I have a better understanding of the realities of life. I know what is real and that only what is real is true. What is not real is by definition, untrue. You people, who believe in a god, are delusional. You claim to love truth, while you believe in things that are not real, and therefor untrue. I don’t hide bigotry and intolerance, under a cloak of religious self-righteousness. I have a distinct advantage over people like you. It’s apparent I have a somewhat greater intellect, probably due to genetics, and my having had a more enlightened environment, in which to mature. You are not able to enter into an intelligent discussion, because you are not equipped. It’s your own fault you are ignorant. You refuse to open your mind to reality. You just don’t know any better. You’re lost in childlike wonder, hypnotized by the shiny trinkets of religion. You really ought to be quiet, while the adults are talking.”
Several people stiffened and frowned at that. I had to respond.
“I realize you have a right to your opinion and the right to express it. In my opinion, you are being rather judgmental, Mr. Worthington. I did not attempt to impose my views on you, rather you asked me for my opinion.”
“Clearly, it was my mistake.” He said, bowing graciously.
“Now hang on a second.” Jim spoke up. “I’m not going to sit here and let a friend be insulted at my table. Calvin, when you insult John and basically call him stupid, and an ignorant, backwards, country bumpkin, just because he has a different point of view, I take it personally. Do you really think you are intellectually superior to us Texas folks, just because you live and work in New York City?”
“Indeed, yes I am. You gentlemen grew up in the Bible belt. You are a product of your environment. You are unable to grasp the nuances of sophisticated subject matter for the simple reason you have not had the requisite cultural opportunities afforded by exposure to a more metropolitan, diverse and progressive lifestyle. Not to mention my Ivey League education.”
Jim wasn’t having it.
“Mr. Worthington, you�
��re a legend in your own mind. You state your opinions as if they were facts. Saying you’re better or smarter than others does not actually make you an authority. Oh, and let’s mention your education. I’m pretty sure you just suggested you’re better than us, because you went to an Ivey League school. What’s wrong with the University of Texas, Baylor, or Texas A & M? Just to name a few of our institutions of higher learning.”
“Well, they are hardly to be compared with Harvard, Princeton or Yale, are they?”
“I expect we have better football players,” I suggested, with a wink and a smile.
“Ah shucks, and whoooeee! I’ll bet you are better at cow tipping as well,” He sneered.
There was stunned silence for a moment.
“Why you pompous, egotistical, two bit dilettante, I oughtta throw you out on your ass!” Jim growled.
“Jim! That’s enough,” Maria said.
I started to laugh then, Jim glanced at me and then he joined in, laughing.
In a moment, the whole room was laughing.
Laughter often breaks tension, but the truth about matters of deception and discernment, life and death decisions about good and evil, are not a laughing matter.
Chapter 16.
Early the next morning, while driving on the southwest Loop, on my way to return the rental car, I gave Buddy a call.
“Hey, John, I guess this means you made it home OK?”
“Yes, thanks to you.”
“What can I do for you this morning?”
“I was kind of hoping for an update. I don’t think I’m getting the whole story from the media.”
“Oh, ye of little faith.”
I chuckled.
“Well then, let me tell you. The press is about to get the news, we found commercial marijuana production on the property. The Taylors and Carlisles will claim they had no knowledge of it, until recently. They’ll say they encountered armed men on their property, and they suspected those men were guarding pot fields. Apparently Andrew Taylor had confronted the men and threatened to bring in the law. The men who attacked were Hispanic, and it appears at this time, the Hispanic men were responsible for the pot farm. So, we have possible illegal aliens, possible organized crime, trespassing, fully automatic assault weapons, commercial marijuana production, murder and mystery. As of today, we’re going to have a whole alphabet soup of federal agencies involved.”
“Have you accounted for all of the people in the fight?”
“As you know, the four men who attempted to ambush you are dead. On the other side of the bayou, we found three Carlisle men who were pretty badly wounded. I expect they had been the guards who shot it out with the attackers. They lost that fight, but they’re in the hospital, and all three are expected to recover. I made sure they lawyered up. They won’t say anything to law enforcement or the media about what really happened out there.”
“So the news media is going to tell the tale of how the locals were the victims in this deal. Is that about right?”
“Oh, I can’t speak for the press. We’ll just have to wait for the news broadcasts. I’ll be making a statement of course. As I said, it appears at this time the Hispanic men were conducting a secret pot farming operation and trespassing on the local folk’s property, to do it. Apparently, when the locals found out and confronted them, the drug dealing Hispanics attempted extortion, and when the locals refused to buckle, the drug dealers decided to wipe them out. The locals fought back, and it was a mess.”
“Well, Buddy, I’m sorry you’re having these troubles in your county.”
“Yeah, me too, I hope you won’t come back and visit again, anytime soon.”
I chuckled again.
“If I do, I’ll try to make it more of a friendly visit.”
“Seriously, John, you know we love you and we can’t thank you enough, for what you did for Bud…”
“Don’t thank me, Buddy.”
“Right, I know. We thank God for Bud and we thank God for you too.”
“You look good on the TV, Buddy.”
“Thanks, I guess I’m getting a lot of free publicity for my re-election campaign.”
“You know what they say…”
“No press is bad press?”
“So I’ve heard.”
When Christine picked me up at the rental car agency, she was pretty excited. She was driving my four door diesel, pickup truck. That was not the reason for her excitement.
“I saw the whole story on the news. How did you and Diondro get out of there without attracting any attention?”
“We left before most of the news people got there. No one up there feels any need to mention the Diondro connection. The Sheriff is a friend of mine, he has my back, and Diondro’s family has his.”
“Where is Diondro now?”
“Oh, I left him with a mutual friend. I expect at this moment he’s sitting in your boyfriend’s office, at the cop shop.”
Christine scowled at me.
“If you’re referring to our mutual friend, Tony Escalante, he is not my boyfriend.”
“Now Christine, you and he are dating, aren’t you?”
“Well…”
“And it seems to me neither of you are dating anyone else…”
I made a questioning gesture.
Christine rolled her eyes.
“And clearly you’re a girl. Tony is a boy, and you’re friends, who are also dating each other. So, ipso facto, he’s your boyfriend.”
“Go stick your head in the toilet.”
“Awww, let’s start over. Good morning, Christine! How are you today?”
Ten minutes later, I dropped her off at the office.
Tony called me as I was pulling to a stop at the Mexican Market where most of the day laborers hung out, waiting for someone to pick them up for a bit of short term work.
“J.W., the individual who was following you in Arkansas is working as a private detective.”
“I’m aware of that, Tony.”
“Yeah, but what you are not aware of is the fact he no longer works for the Tyler PD. He’s working as a PI, period. That’s his only job.”
“How’s that possible, did you fire him?”
“No, he had already been fired. He was fired last week, after an Internal Affairs investigation discovered he had been moonlighting on Tyler PD time. I-A had been investigating him for more than a year. There were some additional abnormalities related to him using his police badge to obtain information for his private business and dirty money making its way into his pockets. They tell me he had been providing muscle and running interference for some prostitutes, while in uniform. The Union didn’t even try to defend him. They struck a deal with the department. If the department didn’t bring charges against him, he would go away quietly. He turned in his badge and gun. The point is; Kirby Wilson was no longer a Tyler cop when he showed up in Arkansas.”
“He had a badge and he flashed it when the local law stopped him for questioning.”
“Maybe, but that’s pretty thin gravy down here. He may have impersonated a police officer in Arkansas, but it would be their problem, not ours.”
“What are you saying?”
Several Hispanic men had noticed me and were approaching the truck.
“We can’t really connect him to the killers for hire. We only know he followed you to Arkansas and the killers eventually showed up there. J.W. can you prove he had any contact with them?”
I sighed.
“Yeah, you get my point.” Tony said.
“Do you know where he is now?”
“No, I just got done talking with Internal Affairs. I figured I’d better let you know.”
“OK, Tony thanks. Is the package with you?”
“Yes. All is well.”
The good news was there was very little chance former Patrol Sergeant Kirby Wilson would be anywhere around Tony’s office at the Tyler police station. The bad news was we couldn’t pin anything on him that would take him out of the pic
ture.
“Tony, I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later.”
I stepped out of my truck to greet the men gathering around.
There were five of them and they varied in age from about sixteen to about sixty. Each man was dressed for work in long sleeved shirts, ball caps and jeans. All of them had work gloves tucked in their pockets. Others were watching from a distance. It was after nine o’clock by now, which meant most of the good jobs had already been filled.
“Buenos días. ¿Alguno de ustedes habla a inglés?”
“Yes, I do, a little. So do I. We all do,” was the general response.
“OK, I need men who are experienced concrete and general construction hands. Have any of you done construction work here, in East Texas?”
Two of them indicated they had done construction work in the area.
I addressed them.
“Dónde hiciste el trabajo?”
“We do some work near Lindale, Tyler, Longview, Kilgore, Whitehouse, but out in the country mostly,” one of the men said, shrugging.
The other man nodded his agreement.
“OK, I’m paying one hundred dollars, per man, per day. Even though we’re getting a late start, you’ll still get one hundred dollars today. I’ll also provide lunch today. I can only take you two men. Are you ready to go now?” I asked.
They both nodded. The other men began to wander off.
We got in my truck. The older of the two men appeared to be about forty. He sat in the passenger seat, up front beside me. The younger man appeared to be about thirty. He sat in the back seat, directly behind me.
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