The Sanders Saga

by N. C. Reed

  “Very well.” He hung up and she did the same.

  “Well, that sounded a bit confrontational,” Clay mused.

  “No kidding,” she sighed. “My stock broker was almost as bad. 'Why would you sell all this after all that work to get it?' What do I tell him?” she sat down heavily and tilted her head back. “This place has been my home for a long time,” she said softly. “The only real home I've ever known, to be honest,” she admitted.

  “You've got a real home now,” he placed an arm around her shoulder and she leaned into him. “With me.” She sat there with him for maybe five minutes before getting to her feet.

  “I need to start packing,” she sighed. “And I need to talk to Brick.”

  -

  “Are you sure that's on the list?” Gordon asked dubiously as Gordy placed an entire flat of giant cans of peanut butter on the cart they were using.

  “If it isn't, it should be,” he argued. “Peanut butter is like one of the four major food groups,” he added, smirking.

  “I don't think that's true,” Gordon was shaking his head, a grin on his face despite the situation. “Let's keep moving.”

  -

  “Leon, what time is it on the west coast?” Leanne asked.

  “Eight o'clock, sis,” he replied after looking at his cell phone.

  “Still no announcement?” she asked where their mother could hear.

  “Nothing on the radio so far, or the EBS,” Leon held up his phone, shaking his head.

  Their mother said nothing, but the look on her face was one of worry rather than annoyance.

  -

  “What if the kids are wrong?” Lainie asked as they finished loading the last of her things into the motor home.

  “They aren't,” Clay shook his head. “The two of them together are. . .they aren't,” he settled for saying. “I wish there was a chance they were,” he admitted. “They literally don't make mistakes. Not in stuff like this. They make mistakes in things like driving a car or a riding a four-wheeler. Or even a horse sometimes. Not with science and math. I don't think they know how to be wrong.”

  “You wanted to see me Miss Lainie?” a girl's voice cut into the conversation.

  “Yes, Janice, I did,” Lainie smiled. “Janice Hardy this is Clayton Sanders. Clay, Janice.”

  “Nice to meet you sir,” she said meekly.

  “Nice to meet you,” Clay smiled.

  “Janice, I'm about to sell the club,” Lainie came right to the point. “I'm leaving, and I'm not coming back. I wanted to give you a chance to come with me, if you wanted it. There's a place for you with me, with us,” she pointed to Clay and herself, “where you will be safe. I don't know if the new owner will let you live here like I did or not, or how good he will be to you. That's another reason I'm offering. You're a nice girl and deserve a chance to get away from here. This is it. Do you want to go with me?”

  “What would I do?” the girl asked, confused. “I mean, here I'm waiting tables and making good, just like you said.”

  “I'm not sure that will last,” Lainie told her. “Things may be a lot different in the days ahead, Janice. It may be harder to get by than it is right now. Where we're going will be hard work, no doubt. Up at daylight sometimes and still working after dark, but we'll have plenty to eat and a safe place to lay our heads at night. Things we might not be able to find here unless we're far more lucky than girls like us usually are,” she smiled.

  “That does sound like hard work,” Janice frowned. “I...I'd rather keep waiting tables, Miss Lainie,” she said finally. “I know how to do that already and I make good money at it. Just like you said I would.”

  “I can't make you go, sweetie,” Lainie smiled sadly. “It's your choice if you want to stay. But I'm telling you now that it won't be the same as it was when I ran it. It never will be again. The man buying this place won't be nearly as good to you as I am, and he may want certain. . .favors, lets say, from you. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

  “Like the other men who come here? Janice asked. “I can handle them okay, Miss Lainie.”

  “But this man will own the place,” Lainie reminded her.

  “I'll be okay I'm sure,” Janice smiled. “I'll miss you though, Miss Lainie,” she hugged the red head.

  “Miss you too, sweetheart,” Lainie sighed. “Good luck.” With that the blonde almost skipped away, heading back upstairs.

  “I don't think anyone is home there,” Clay said gently.

  “Maybe not,” Lainie shrugged. “I don't know. Brick, come on out.” The huge man lumbered out of the RV.

  “Are you going with us?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he nodded. “My things are already packed. Mister Leon wouldn't have sent that message if he didn't think I needed a place to go. He's always been a good boss.”

  “Then go ahead and get your stuff stowed away,” she ordered. “Even if we have to stay overnight, you can head on back with the others. Mister Leon will be there and can get you settled. Sound good?”

  “Works for me,” Brick nodded, heading for the stairs.

  “Need any help?” Clay asked.

  “No, I got it. I don't have much. Not really a materialistic type.”

  “I need you to be with me when Carl gets here, though,” Lainie called. “In case he gets shifty.”

  “I'll be there,” he promised.

  “Better make a last walk through and look around,” Clay told her. “If you missed anything, you won't get another chance.”

  -

  “Leon, what time is it on the West Coast n-” Leanne started.

  “I get it, Leanne,” Alicia cut her off. “Really I do. They aren't announcing it. That might just mean that the two of you are wrong, you know.” She looked at her daughter who simply folded her arms under her breasts and stared at her mother without speaking.

  “When have either of these two been wrong about anything that didn't involved wheeled vehicles?” Abby spoke up. “Seriously Aunt Ally, they're so smart they scare normal people.”

  “You say that like we aren't normal,” Leon objected.

  “Normal people don't work logarithms in their heads, Deuce,” Abby pointed out, ignoring the fact that she herself was extremely intelligent.

  “Well,” he muttered but didn't have a comeback.

  “And bringing up our driving misfortunes isn't fair,” Leanne continued. “We have yet to acquire our licenses, and likely won't, now. With practice our skills would undoubtedly improve.”

  “Fair enough Pip,” Abby nodded.

  “Stop calling me that!” Leanne snapped. Just then her phone rang and she looked at it. It was her Aunt Patricia. She answered it, ignoring her cousin.

  “Argue on your way to the checkout,” Alicia ordered. This was their fifth store. “We're done and need to get back.”

  -

  “How much?” Gordy goggled.

  “Hush,” Robert side kicked his son in the shin. “We're drawing enough attention as it is.”

  Gordy cast a hesitant look around and saw that indeed they were drawing a lot of strange looks. Four flat carts of supplies and two pallet jacks carrying pallets of wrapped goods would do that he supposed.

  Paying with cash wasn't going over well, either.

  “Sir, I'll have to call the manager,” the cashier told Gordon.

  “Really? Why?” he asked, confusion on his face.

  “That's a great deal of cash,” she said, and every head in the place turned to look.

  “Why don't you say that a bit louder, since there may be some people in the parking lot who didn't hear you?” Gordon's voice was dripping with sarcasm. The woman flushed red as she called her supervisor. The man came over quickly and the woman explained what was happening.

  “Why are you carrying so much cash?” the man asked, albeit quieter than then woman had said anything.

  “Because we planned on spending it,” Gordon told him. “Why is this a problem?”

  “We just don't usua
lly see that much cash,” the man admitted.

  “It's legal tender,” Gordon pointed out. “We've purchased this stuff from you and now we need to pay. This is how we're paying.”

  “Don't you have a credit card or-” the manager began and Gordon turned to his family members.

  “Looks like we're going to Sam's instead boys,” he said calmly. “I'm sure the Walton's take cash.”

  “Wait a minute, wait a minute,” the manager began stammering, clearly not wanting to lose such a hefty sale with a price running a high five figures. “I didn't say we don't take cash.”

  “You were just making it as difficult as possible,” Gordon nodded. “I don't have time for this, I've got a store to open.”

  That was what did it, the subtle hint that all of this was for a store. The manager took the receipt and invited Gordon to his office where he accepted payment in cash after all. Gordon ignored the man's pointed questions and refused to show any ID, taking his receipt and collection his family and their purchases. The manager offered three of his stock men to assist in loading and Gordon accepted, letting them do the backbreaking work of loading the material from the pallets as one of them took down the tag numbers from Clayton's truck and eyed the offensive bumper stickers.

  Sometimes it worried him how much his son knew of how people could be expected to react to a given situation.

  Once finished they loaded up, having already agreed to meet Alicia and the kids at a local restaurant for a brief lunch/late breakfast. Once there Gordy quickly stripped off the fake tag while his father and uncle removed the window decals and the bumper stickers. In two minutes the truck looked totally different.

  And no longer had an out of state tag.

  The family gathered and ate, careful not to discuss their recent business in front of others. It was decided that another trailer would be purchased if possible, and filled from another store, or group of stores. They had plenty of money remaining to do that and more.

  Meanwhile Alicia would begin visiting local sporting goods stores. She and Abigail, who had recently turned twenty-one, could buy ammunition while the twins could buy whatever else they thought would be handy and needful. The camper top on Alicia and Ronny's truck was getting a workout today.

  -

  “Well, I can certainly see how the old lecher would have fallen under your spell,” Carl gave Lainie an appreciative look over as his two henchmen stood behind him. “You're quite the eyeful, Miss Harper.”

  “Aren't you just a sweet talker,” Lainie allowed her disgust to show. “Deed,” she held up the bundle of papers. “Signed and delivered if the price is right. One hundred thousand dollars.”

  “Right here,” Carl nodded as one of his helpers set a case on a tabletop. She quickly checked the money in random places for counterfeits, but all of it was good apparently.

  “It's all good,” he assured her. “Using paper for something like this won't do,” he looked around him, smiling. “Oh, I've wanted to get my hands on this place for a long time,” he sounded excited, literally rubbing his hands together. “There's one dancer here in particular I've always had an eye on. She's a redhead, come to think of it,” he gave Lainie an appraising look once more. “Are you a dancer Miss Harper?”

  “I'm a waitress who graduated to bartender,” she laughed, resisting the urge to shudder.

  “Well, I'm sure I'll find her eventually,” he smiled a greasy smile as she finished counting her money.

  “I hope you get what's coming to you,” Lainie nodded absently as she closed the case. “Looks like it's all here. Here are the keys,” she tossed him a ring of keys. “There are four rooms upstairs that are used for various people. There's only one occupied at the moment. She's a waitress. Eighteen. Good kid. She knows I'm selling the place, so if you want her out she needs to know so she can find a place to live.”

  “Depends on what she looks like,” Carl smiled his slimy smile again. “I'm sure we can work something out.”

  “If you've got any class at all you'll take it easy with her,” Lainie said evenly. “She's a good kid who has had it rough.”

  “No longer your concern Miss Harper,” Carl told her. “I'll take good care of her, I assure you.”

  “Brick,” Lainie said as she turned. The walking hillside fell in behind her and the two went out the back.

  “What a slime ball,” she shuddered as soon as they were behind a closed door.

  “Real prize winner,” Brick agreed.

  “I hate to leave Janice here in his clutches,” Lainie lamented.

  “You did try,” Brick reminded her.

  “I know but maybe if I had-”

  “Wait!” Janice's voice cut into what Lainie had been about to say. “Wait!” she called again as she ran toward them, a backpack over her shoulder and a suitcase slapping her leg that had obviously been packed and closed in a hurry, considering the clothes hanging out of the sides.

  “Can I still go with you?” Janice asked breathlessly. “I...I was listening to you talk to that man,” she gasped. “I...I didn't like him. I don't want to stay here any more.”

  “Get on the RV,” Lainie told her. “Brick is taking it where we're going. You'll be safe with him.”

  “Thank you Miss Lainie,” the girl said. “Thank you, Mister Brick.”

  “One worry down,” Brick told Lainie as Janice clambered aboard.

  “And oh, so many more to go,” she nodded. “Let's go.” She walked out the already open overhead door where Clay was already waiting. They had to go.

  -

  “Dad, this is Brick,” Clay said as he drew Gordon aside for a private chat. “He 'll be following you back to the farm in the RV. He's a guest of Leon's, I might as well tell you. I think I 'll just let them explain how it is they came to know each other,” he grinned slightly.

  “I can only imagine,” Gordon rolled his eyes. “We're going to get another trailer and hit another Costco.”

  “Be sure and put the fakes back on,” he nodded to his truck. “We may look for a trailer ourselves, we don't know yet.”

  “Having that RV will at least make traveling more comfortable, assuming there's room for some of the kids in there,” Gordon noted.

  “There's room,” Clay nodded. “There's also an eighteen-year-old girl who was waitressing at Lainie's place that she didn't want to leave behind. Might be good for her to see there are some other kids around and that they're treated okay.”

  “Might do,” Gordon nodded. “Where are you heading?” he asked.

  “See about exchanging some funds.”

  -

  “How much?”

  “You heard me,” Clay sighed.

  “That's a lot of money,” Darrell Robbins whistled. “And you want to turn it into gold coins? All of it?”

  “Gold and silver,” Clay shrugged. “Junk silver too, at least some. We're looking for a way to put her money into something physical that won't lose worth the way paper does. Looking at the long haul.”

  “I can't turn that much,” Robbins shook his head. “Well, not in coins,” he amended, clearly running numbers in his head. “I've got some gold and silver one ounce bars I've been holding. They aren't as popular as coins,” he shrugged.

  “I don't mind bars,” Lainie shrugged, acting disinterested. “I'm not looking to spend them, so the bars will work for me if the price is right.” She glanced at Clay who nodded agreement.

  “Gimme a minute,” Robbins said as he began pecking a calculator. Two minutes of pecking and scribbling and he looked up again.

  “Okay. Fifty each one ounce gold coins, halves and quarter ounce comes to one hundred ten thousand. That's almost half my inventory total and all I can let go of at one go. But, I have sixty-two one ounce gold bars and seventy-eight one ounce silver bars, plus one thousand silver eagles that comes to another. . .eighty-three thousand, five hundred, give or take twenty dollars. That's a bargain on the bars because I haven't been able to move them. Almost two hundred off spot, b
ut I've held them a while and don't have as much in them as I do the coins. So…one hundred ninety-four thousand we 'll call it for all of it. Off the records,” he added. “Make it two hundred even for two sacks of silver quarters and dimes each? Sound fair?”

  “It's doable,” Clay nodded after pretending to give it some thought. “So long as we can do it now. We're on our way out of town today. We 'll be leaving this in a safe place until we get back.”

  “Can always store it here,” Robbins mentioned.

  “Doubt we 'll get back here, necessarily, or we might do that,” Clay sounded regretful.

  “Well, it's a service I offer if you change your mind,” Robbins shrugged. “Wait here while I gather this up. It won't take too long.” He disappeared into the back. Lainie looked at Clay.

  “Am I getting took?” she asked him.

  “No,” he assured her. “It's a good deal. What do you want to do with the rest?” Her portfolio had cashed out at one hundred ninety-two thousand with some change after commission.

  “Whatever you think,” she shrugged. “I'm lost,” she admitted.

  “You want to try Leon's idea about sewing?” Clay asked.

  “It's worth thinking about, but where to get that much of anything on short notice?” she asked. “And to store it without losing it?”

  “We can use the trailer if we have to and keep it mothballed,” Clay replied. “But you don't have to do it, either. We can get some stuff, just to have. For our own use if nothing else. If you want to think about trading, then there's fishing supplies, canning supplies, candle making, any number of things like that. Oh, and leather goods. We 'll have cow hides that can be turned into leather. That sort of thing.”

  “What are the things that people will most want if this happens?” she wondered.

  Their discussion tapered off as Robbins returned with the first of two trips. It took twenty minutes to count out the coins and then the money, but finally they were ready to go.

  “Wherever you guys are going, I hope you have a good time,” he told them. “Don't spend it all in one place.”

  “Thanks,” Clay nodded as he and Lainie exited the shop.

  “Don't you feel a little guilty?” she asked.