by Rob Edwards
“Okay, but he doesn’t like to be touched, so when I hug him, you need to snap it fast.”
“Understood,” Jack said. He held up the camera. “Now.”
Judith wrapped her arms around Noah and pulled him in tight. The light flashed, and Noah moaned and struggled. Judith released him.
“Oh, that’s perfect,” Jack said. “Now let me upload this to all three accounts.”
Jack spent the next several minutes going over the accounts and the intricacies of the camera. The deep dive into business mode helped get through the uneasiness of their previous conversation. Once she made it clear she understood how everything worked, Jack left as quickly as he could. He didn’t linger to allow any uncomfortable goodbyes. This was a business arrangement only, and his actions were going to make that completely clear.
Once he had walked out the door, Judith sat next to Noah, who was still chewing his Cheerios, one by one. She thought about her dad again, and the fight she had to go through without him. More than anything she wished she had someone to lean on. She hated having to be the strong one every single day. “Hey, Noah. Mommy is very sad,” she said to him.
Noah reached into his bowl, pulled out a Cheerio, and looked through it. Then he dropped it into her hand.
Chapter Forty-Six
A fly buzzed and thumped against the window. It was the only sound in Judith’s tiny apartment, so it came across incredibly loud.
The TV was on, but the sound was down. Judith had the remote next to her in case a story about Delton came on. But other than that she wasn’t watching it. She stared in disbelief at her father’s urn, which sat on the stand next to her TV. She and Dar had chosen a brushed metal one, with Celtic-style markings around the rim, and a Celtic cross on the front of it. Their father would have loved it.
The funeral of Ben Higgins had been a somber, but proud affair. As is the case with most funerals, Judith saw aunts, uncles, and cousins she hadn’t seen, or even thought of in over a decade. And she knew that when she said goodbye to them at the end of the day, she wouldn’t see them again until the next funeral, when they would all leave and promise not to be strangers once again.
Seven soldiers from the Army Color Guard had stood by her father’s urn during the three hours of visitation. After the service, everyone followed them outside, where they performed a twenty-one-gun salute in the parking lot. Judith knew her father would have been embarrassed by that. He never talked about his military service to anyone, because, in all four years he was in the service, he never spent one single second in any kind of danger. His first three years were spent at a base in Kansas, and the last year was at a base in upstate New York. Judith remembered an episode when she was in ninth grade, and her teacher asked her dad if he was ever in the armed services. “Nope, never served,” He had said. When Judith asked him why he lied about his army days to her teacher, he shrugged. “When you tell someone you were in the Army, they always say thank you, like you put your life on the line or something. The guys who did put their lives on the line are true heroes, and I respect every damn one of them. But I can’t take credit for anything they did. I don’t feel it would be right. So it’s just easier to say I didn’t even do it.” Integrity was probably one of her father’s greatest assets.
Jack had called her in the morning to remind her to post pictures from her dad’s funeral. She hadn’t wanted to, thinking it to be a cheap way to get people’s sympathy. “If you mean cheap as in inexpensive, I know funeral’s don’t come cheap. If you mean cheap as in tasteless, you couldn’t be more wrong. People throw their support where they have an emotional connection. I know you’re in a rough state right now, and I’m so sorry for the hurt you’re feeling. But let your father help you get that emotional connection. It’s the last thing he will be able to do for Noah.”
So she took his advice and posted a single picture, on all three pages, of her and Noah standing in front of her father’s urn, and a large picture of him that was on an easel.
Judith picked up her new phone and checked the different accounts. Her video was now up to 92,000 views. True to their words, most, if not all, of her relatives liked, and joined the pages that were created for Operation Noah-Delton. And they all said they would help spread the word. But none were more encouraging to her than her Aunt Edna, her mother’s older sister, who always talked liked a mob hit man. She pulled Judith aside and told her not to give up. “Don’t you let up, girl. You keep the heat on those sons of bitches,” She had said, wagging her finger. “They all think they’re so damn smart and they know what’s best for everybody. But they don’t. They all have a hitch in their step, because they all have their heads stuck up their ass. Not because they’re stupid, but because they think their farts smell like perfume. They can’t get over themselves.” She patted Judith on the shoulder. “You keep giving them hell, dear.”
But, easily the most uncomfortable moment of the day was when Neil walked into the visitation. He had greeted Dar and Jim first, giving them both hugs, nods, and solemn expressions. Then he’d walked over to her, and gave her an uneasy hug. “I’m so sorry,” He’d said when he pulled her close. And then the hug was over…too quickly. Like he’d just hugged his grandmother. “I just wanted to come by, and pay my respects to you and Jim.” He’d said, acting like he needed an excuse to be there. He put his hands in his pockets and looked around. Judith had so much to say to him, but no room to say it. As is the case with visitations, six other people lined up behind Neil, and waited their turn to speak to her. Neil reached over and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. He smiled, said “Take care of yourself. I’ll catch you another time.” Then he walked out the door.
Judith watched him walk away. She wanted to run after him, explain to him about Jack, what had happened between them, and let him know there was no longer anything there. Ask him to hold her and help her through this difficult time in her life. Instead she watched from the dimness of the funeral home as Neil disappeared into the bright blaze of the doorway.
Looking at her father’s urn, Judith felt contentment. When the funeral and the luncheon were over and she and her sister were deciding on what to take, all Judith wanted was her father’s urn. She didn’t want the flowers and plants. To her that only represented more responsibility. They were just more things she would have to take care of. Right now all she wanted to take care of was herself and Noah. “I need Dad with me right now,” she had said to Dar.
Darlene just nodded and said, “I agree.” Again, her sister got her.
Judith took a deep breath, and exhaled through pursed lips. Things were going to get intense now. They needed to get intense. She stared at her father’s urn and could hear his loving voice in the distance. “Noah needs you now, Judith. Fight like you’ve never fought before. I love you, and I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you, Dad,” She whispered. “I miss you.”
“I’ll always be with you,” She heard him say.
Judith picked up the remote and clicked the TV off. There hadn’t been anything about Delton. That troubled her. He was old news. Somehow, she would have to figure out how to get it to become new news again. But she could talk to Jack about that tomorrow.
She brushed her teeth, popped a Xanax her sister had given her, and called it a day.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Almost ten minutes had passed since Judith signed into her account at work. Simon, Evelyn, and Shelly had already popped in and given her their condolences, told her to let them know if there was anything they could do to help, and generally made her feel welcomed.
Then Bernie sauntered in. “I see Miss Higgins has joined us again. Welcome back.”
“Thanks, Bernie,” She said, while flipping through her email.
“So are you sticking with us today, or is another major crisis going to pull you away?”
Judith felt like she had just been smacked on the back of the head. She looked over her shoulder to see Bernie, hands on his hips, with a shit-ea
ting smirk across his face. “Bernie, you are aware that I’ve been on bereavement leave right? My father’s funeral was yesterday.”
“Yeah, I know,” Bernie said, shrugging it off. “But you have to admit, you have more life crisis moments than everyone else on my whole team combined. You come and go more than everybody, and that needs to stop.”
Judith turned in her chair. “Bernie, whether or not you have a legitimate point to make, your message is not well-timed. Again, my father’s funeral was yesterday.”
“Right, and I said I’m sorry about that. But I’m talking about today, and tomorrow, and the day after that. This is a business, it’s not a club. And you have a habit of breezing in and out when you want to. I’m just trying to make a point that it’s not okay anymore. I’m putting you on notice.”
“I don’t breeze in and out when I want to. I have a son with a disability. When he needs me I have to go to him.”
“No. You have a responsibility to your job, to your team, and ultimately to me. If your son has issues, you need to make other arrangements. But you can’t continue here and not pull your weight anymore.”
Now it felt like she had just taken a fist to the stomach. She grasped at the desk and struggled to her feet. “You don’t think I pull my weight around here?”
Bernie stepped back. His smirk was gone. The bully was now on his heels. “I didn’t say that exactly…”
“You just said I can’t continue not pulling my weight.”
“Well, your team has been complaining about all the extra work…”
Her aunt’s words reverberated in her ears. “You keep the heat on those sons-of-bitches.” And there was no bigger son of a bitch in her life right now than Bernie.
“Don’t be a fucking coward, Bernie,” she said. “Don’t put this on the team. It was you who made the accusation. Own it.”
Bernie shifted his weight nervously. “Higgins, you’re trying to make this personal. You can’t do that. I came in here to talk to you about your work habits.”
“No, you didn’t,” Judith said. She felt her heart beating hard, and her face flush hot. “You came in her to be the fat-ass bully you’ve always been. You don’t give a damn about what anybody else is going through, you just say what you think will make Bernie sound big in Bernie’s own pea-sized brain. And you assume that if you say it, Mr. High-and-Mighty Associate Manager, that everybody else will just quake from your authoritative greatness.” She took a step forward and Bernie backed up. “Well, I’m putting you on notice. I’m not taking your shit anymore. If you want to speak to me, you will do it with respect, or you won’t speak to me at all. Do we have an understanding?”
She saw Bernie’s neck redden. He glared at her. “Now who’s being the bully?”
“Do we have an understanding?” Judith made sure she kept the heat on, just like her Aunt Edna had instructed.
Bernie brought his hands up to his hips. “Well, if you’re so unhappy here, perhaps it’s time for you to look for someplace else to work.”
Judith opened her mouth to shout but sense caught the better of it. He was certainly not of a mind to back down. And if he couldn’t be the overbearing jerk to her, then he didn’t even want her around. She calmly asked, “You’re firing me?”
“Well…” Bernie stuttered. “I…er…I’m…suggesting.”
She whirled around, grabbed her purse from the drawer, and grabbed pictures of Noah from her desk.
“What are doing?” Bernie said.
Judith threw her purse over her shoulder, and bolted from the cubicle.
“Where are you going now?” Bernie called after her. “You have a report due by the end of the day.”
Judith picked up the pace, sped through the lobby, and onto an elevator that was just opening. Shelly stepped off carrying two cups of coffee. “Hey, Judith, where are you going? I got you some coffee.”
“Goodbye, Shelly,” Judith said.
Just before the doors closed, she heard Shelly. “What?”
She didn’t know what had gotten into her, but as Judith sped out of the parking lot of Fillmore National, she felt invigorated. She knew she should feel scared, terrified even, over what to do for money now. And she knew she would be hit by a huge wave of regret later. She would probably call Bernie tomorrow and beg him for forgiveness, but there was no time for that now. It was time to follow Aunt Edna’s advice. “Don’t let up on those sons of bitches,” and she knew exactly what to do next.
She breezed into the hardware store and bought three mop handles, six large pieces of poster board, a staple gun, a pack of markers, and some white duct tape. Then she went home, threw on a nice running suit, and proceeded to create a picket sign. She took the markers and wrote “FREE DELTON HAYES” on one piece of poster board. On the other she wrote, “SELF DEFENSE IS NOT ILLEGAL.” Then she stapled them to one of the mop handles and lined them neatly with the white duct tape.
She weaved the long sign through her little Kia, and headed to the prison.
Checking her smartphone, she saw that Jack had added his names to the contacts. “Call Jack Brody.” A moment later the phone was ringing.
“Good morning, Judith.”
“Good morning, Jack. I wanted to let you know that I’m on my way to the prison.”
“Uh…What for?”
“I watched the news last night and there was nothing on about Delton. I think it’s falling off the radar. I’m going to bring it back on again.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“Exercise my free speech. I’m going to picket the prison.”
“Nice,” Jack said. “I’ll meet you there.”
Twenty minutes later, Judith pulled into the parking lot of the Two Rivers State Correctional Facility. She parked near the road, removed the sign from the car, and walked across the long parking lot to the entrance of the compound. She stopped long enough to take a selfie, holding the sign with the Two Rivers entrance behind her. She posted it on all three sites with the words, “trying to be heard.” Then she paced back and forth in front of the building, yelling “Free Delton Hayes!” as loud as she could every thirty seconds or so.
Five minutes later a security guard emerged and walked over to her. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“I’m not causing any disturbance,” Judith said. “I have a right to free speech in a free country.”
“Yes ma'am. But you’re on government property.”
“Exactly, which means I have every right to be here. I pay taxes, and I’m not trying to do it inside where there could be trouble, so I’m fine right where I am.”
A midnight blue Buick Acadia, pulled up in front and came to a quick stop. Jack jumped out of the car. “Hey, Judith. What’s going on?”
“This man is telling me I have to leave.”
Jack walked up. “Hi there, Jack Brody,” He handed the guard his card. “I’m with Danser Advertising and Public Relations. Given the state of public opinion on this facility, I’m not so sure you want to make things worse by throwing a distraught mother off the property.”
The guard looked up at Jack. “Sir, I don’t want trouble here.”
“You’re the only one here who has the power to make trouble.” He took a few steps back and held up his phone, ready to take pictures. “So, make a choice. What’re you going to do?”
The guard pursed his lips, spun on his heels, and walked back into the facility.
Jack put the phone back in his breast pocket. “He made a good choice.”
“Thank you,” Judith said.
“Happy to help,” Jack said, smiling. It was the first smile Judith had seen on him since they reconnected. “I’ve put in a couple of calls to contacts at channels 3 and 12. One of them should be able to come down for the story. In the meantime I’ll hang around and make sure I get pictures of anyone who tries to bother you.”
It was a cloudy, breezy day, but Jack was true to his word. He hung in with Judith throughout
the morning. They paced back and forth together in front of the entrance to Two Rivers, and yelled “Free Delton Hayes!” to anyone who walked in or out of the facility. And no guards bothered them anymore. Jack wanted to know what prompted Judith to come out and picket today and she told him of her Aunt Edna, and the debacle that became her last morning at Fillmore National Life.
Judith was concerned that Jack could be in trouble, spending so much time away from the office.
“I told you,” Jack said, shaking his head. “Al told me to support you in every way possible. I had three meetings today with clients. When I told him about you being down here, he told me to “pitch a tent,” Jack used finger quotes, and spoke with a husky voice to simulate his boss. “Right there, and stay all day if you need to.”
Judith chuckled. “That’s so nice of him.”
“No. It’s typical,” Jack said. “You were always his favorite.”
They continued to pace while they argued about who was Al Danser’s favorite employee. Then conversation moved on to how Noah was doing. Jack wanted to hear stories about his son—particularly those having to do with the Marmont/Two Rivers project and Delton Hayes.
After another hour Jack looked at his watch. “It’s nearly 1:00, and I’m hungry. How about you? Fancy a Big Mac attack?”
“Actually, I’m starving. The exhilaration of the morning is wearing off, and I’m starting to freak out about what I’ve done.” She lowered the sign and banged the stick on the sidewalk nervously. “I think I need to go bury my fears in French fries.”
Jack held up his hands. “You can’t go anywhere. You have to be here doing the freedom march, if, and when the news folks show up. I’ll go get food.” He walked to his car. “I’ll be right back. There are places right up the road.”
Judith watched him drive out one side of the parking lot, just as a Channel 12 car pulled in the other side. They parked a few spaces down from where she stood and two men got out. One, a scruffy young man in a Star Wars t-shirt and a baseball cap, went straight to the trunk and pulled out a camera and a tripod. The other, dressed in khakis, sports jacket and tie, looked like he had Middle Eastern ancestry. He carried a microphone in one hand and a small notebook in the other.