An August Harvest

by Ben Marney

  “But I really need the money. I’m overdrawn in my account and...”

  I SAID I WOULD TAKE CARE OF IT!” He screamed, “GO BACK TO YOUR DESK, NOW!”

  He locked his door when she left, walked back to his desk and sat down. Reluctantly, he dialed the number for his banker.

  “I need to speak with John Willy. This is Dr. Jeremiah Ashford Hollingsworth calling.”

  “Yes, Doctor,” an obviously young, female voice said, “he’s expecting your call. Hold on, I’ll put you through.”

  The phone clicked in his ear and began to ring. “Dr. Hollingsworth, I need to see you, today.” John Willy, the bank president, said immediately. “We have a serious problem. All three of your accounts are overdrawn. The bank examiners are breathing down my neck and this needs to be corrected immediately. Today, this morning!”

  “John, I am so sorry to have put you in this situation. There must have been some glitch in the offshore money transfer. Let me check into that and I’ll get right back with you.”

  “Jerry, I’m not going to fall for that again!” he shouted. “That’s exactly what you told me last week and you never called me back. I’m not sure what kind of game you’re trying to play here, but it’s not going to work with me. I will give you exactly forty-eight hours to get this cleared up. If it isn’t, I will be forced to take serious legal action against you. I am through playing your game! Forty-eight hours! Not one second more!”

  Jerry started to respond, but the phone clicked in his ear before he could say a word.

  He leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. How the fuck did I go through all that money so fast? he said to himself. The more he thought about his situation, the angrier he got.

  “Bitch!” he screamed out loud. “How could she have done this to me! I’ve never had to worry about money before.”

  He stood and began pacing his office. “It’s beneath me,” he spat. “A man of my status should never have to worry about such trivial things!”

  Melissa and I were eating lunch at a small restaurant near my office when he called. Her body stiffened when she read the name on the caller ID. “Oh my God, It’s Jerry. What do I do?” She stared across the table at me with wide eyes.

  “Calm down. You know why he’s calling. Act surprised when you answer.”

  “Hello?” she said meekly, “Jerry, is this you?”

  She locked eyes with me as she listened. “Yes...we’re doing fine. I wish she was here, she would love to talk to you.” Her forehead wrinkled and her lips tightened, as she listened to his response. “Sure...I’ll tell her. So...if it wasn’t to talk to Molly, then why are you calling?”

  Staring into my eyes, she moved her head from side to side as she listened. “Jerry, I don’t know, that’s a lot of money. My accountant, and especially my attorney, won’t like it. When do you need it?”

  She actually smiled when he told her. “How in the world did you get overdrawn that much? Don’t you balance your checkbooks?” She pulled the phone away from her ear. I could hear him yelling from across the table. “Jerry...Jerry...stop yelling at me or I’m hanging up!”

  She listened for a few minutes, “I understand. You’ve never been good with money. Now listen to me. This is serious. If I do this, you have to understand that it will be the last time. If you blow this money, don’t call me again. I’m serious. Do you understand?”

  I couldn’t make out the actual words he was saying from the other side of the table, but his groveling gratitude was obvious by the way Melissa was smiling at me. “Ok, I’ll call your banker today and have my lawyer draw up a loan agreement.”

  She paused, listening. “Because it’s the only way I will give you this money. It has to be a loan, not a gift. My lawyer will insist on it. And you’re going to have to pay me back. That’s the only way I’ll do it. Take it or leave it, it’s up to you.”

  That afternoon, Melissa’s attorney had the loan documents overnighted to Jerry’s banker, John Willy, with instructions to have the documents signed by Jerry, witnessed and notarized in his presence. Once that was done, his bank would receive a wire transfer of one million dollars. After the overdrafts were covered, that would leave Dr. Jeremiah Ashford Hollingsworth with a little over $870,000 left in his account.

  The collateral for the million-dollar loan was Jerry’s house, his furniture and expensive art collection, his Jaguar and his office furniture – basically everything he owned with any value. Melissa didn’t add any interest on the loan. All that was required was payments for five years of $16,666 per month.

  When the lawyer showed Melissa the loan documents, she started laughing. “Isn’t 666 the mark of the devil? How appropriate.”

  I had given Jerry five months, in our unofficial pool, on how long it would be before he blew through the money or stopped making the payments.

  Surprising all of us, his $16,666 payment arrived a day early, for seven months, before he called Rob Waterson Melissa’s attorney, asking for an extension.

  After a quick phone call to John Willy, the president of Jerry’s bank, inquiring about the status of his remaining bank balance, Rob sent a registered letter to Jerry’s office telling him no, reminding him that if he missed two payments in a row, the loan would officially be in breach and foreclosure proceedings on all of his collateral would begin.

  As we all expected, the second month’s payment did not arrive. After that, Jerry simply ignored all of the registered letters he received over the next several months, informing him of his breach of contract and the imminent foreclosure he was facing.

  Jerry wasn’t worried in the slightest, and just laughed and tore up the documents when they came. It was all just a bluff. He realized that the documents were real, but he knew that it was just her lawyer doing his job to keep earning his monthly retainer. Melissa would never actually go through with a foreclosure. She would be furious, but she’d never allow that to happen to him. She was still under his spell. The same spell he put her under when she was young. She had no real backbone to go through a foreclosure. And she wasn’t smart enough to realize why she could never actually hurt him. She was his sheep and would do anything he asked. And although he had done it again and was running low on money in his bank account, he knew right where to go to get more.

  No, Dr. Jeremiah Ashford Hollingsworth wasn’t worried at all, so when he didn’t have a patient, which was often, he spent his days playing tennis at the country club and his nights eating at the finest restaurants in town with his good friends. Life was good.

  19

  Gone With The Wind

  “Yes!” Dr. Jeremiah Ashford Hollingsworth shouted, running toward the net. It was the best serve he’d hit in months — a smoking ace that just hit the line, winning the match.

  He jumped over the net, holding out his hand. “Sorry, old man,” he said grinning, shaking his opponent’s hand, “maybe next time.”

  He walked to the bench, picked up his towel and sat down, wiping his face.

  “Doctor Hollingsworth?”

  He turned around to see a young woman standing behind him. She was wearing a navy blue Lakeside Country Club golf shirt, so he assumed she was one of the employees.

  “Yes, I’m Doctor Hollingsworth.” He said.

  “I think you need to go to the parking lot,” she said hesitantly.

  He frowned. “The parking lot? Why on earth would I need to go out there?”

  “They’re hauling off your car.”

  “Who’s hauling off my car?” he yelled, jumping to his feet.

  She stared down at the ground, shuffling her feet nervously. “I don’t know who he is, sir. I’ve never seen him before. He said he was hired to pick up your car, that was being repossessed.”

  Jerry ran past the young girl to the parking lot. His beautiful new Jaguar was sitting on the back of a large wrecker. “STOP!” he screamed, running up to the driver, who was bent over attaching a chain to the undercarriage of the Jag.

 
He grabbed the man’s arm and pulled him back. “I SAID STOP!”

  The large, burly wrecker driver grabbed Jerry’s hand and jerked it away from his arm. “I’m just trying to do my job, sir,” he said, glaring down at him. He walked to the cab, opened the door and picked up some papers. “Read this.”

  Jerry took the repossession papers and scanned them. “I don’t give a shit what these say,” he shouted throwing the papers to the ground. “This is some kind of a mistake and I’m not going to let you take my car!”

  He grabbed the driver’s shoulder and pulled him back away from the wrecker. The driver took Jerry’s hand, squeezed it hard and bent it backwards. Jerry screamed in pain and fell to the pavement on his knees.

  Twisting his wrist further, the driver growled, “If you touch me again, I’m gonna consider that as an assault. What I’ll do next will be considered self-defense. Trust me, sir, you won’t like that one bit. Do you understand?”

  Jerry didn’t respond. “Now, sir, I’m gonna let go of your hand and what you do is up to you, it’s your call. But I suggest you let me do my job and leave me alone. If this is a mistake, I think you need to pick them papers back up off the ground and call that number on the letter head and talk to them.

  Jerry didn’t move, staying on his knees when the driver let go of his hand and walked back to the wrecker. The driver carefully checked the chains and straps securing the Jag to the truck bed, jumped back in the cab and slowly drove out of the parking lot.

  When the cab driver turned on the street to his house, Jerry couldn’t believe his eyes. The street was blocked off by two police cars with their blue lights flashing, and there was a large moving van backed up to his front door.

  From the back seat of the cab, he could easily read the word ‘EVICTION’ written in large red letters on the paper that was taped to his front door.

  “Don’t stop,” he said to the cabbie, “take me to my office.”

  When he walked into the lobby of his office building, he was stopped by two security guards. “We’re sorry, Dr. Hollingsworth, but we have orders not to let you in the building.”

  “But I have to get to my office,” he shouted. “I need to make a phone call!”

  “I’m sorry, Doctor, but we can’t let you do that. You couldn’t get in anyway; they changed all the locks this morning. I’m sorry, but you have to leave. You’re not allowed to be in this building.”

  He stormed out and walked across the street to the Starbucks. He ordered a frappuccino. and a slice of banana nut bread, but when he tried to pay for it, his credit card was rejected. Furious, he slammed the cash down on the counter and took a seat in the back.

  Rob Waterson, Melissa’s attorney, had just hung up his phone when his secretary opened his door. “It’s him, and boy, is he pissed,” she said, grinning. “He’s on line two.”

  He lifted the receiver, punched line two and said, “Rob Waterson.”

  “Mr. Waterson, this is Dr. Jeremiah Ashford Hollingsworth calling.”

  “Hey, what’s up, Doc?”

  “You know what is up, you son of a bitch. How dare you embarrass me like this in front of my friends and colleagues?”

  Rob punched the speaker button and hung up the receiver, so his secretary and his partner could hear the conversation. “Sorry about that, Jerry, but you didn’t leave me much choice. You are four months behind on your payments. When you didn’t answer my three registered letters, you forced me to do what I had to do to secure the collateral.”

  “Does Melissa know about this?” Jerry screamed. “Get her on the phone! I want to talk to her right now! I’ve been trying to call her, but she hasn’t answered. Get her on the phone now!”

  “Sorry, Doc, but that’s not going to happen. Melissa doesn’t want to talk to you. And yes, she does know about this. In fact, I’m following her instructions.”

  “That bitch! I’m going to kill her for this!”

  “Dr. Hollingsworth, I think I need to inform you that you are on a speakerphone, my secretary and my partner just heard you make that threat. You might want to calm down and think about what you’re saying.”

  “I don’t give a shit who is listening,” Jerry shouted on the phone. “As soon as I talk to Melissa and get this straightened out, you will all be fired. I promise you that!”

  Rob smiled. “Is that a fact? Well, in that case I guess it would be a good time to explain to you the rest of this shit storm you’re in. Are you sitting down, Doc? You might want to find a chair. Tell me when you’re all settled in.”

  “I am sitting down, you fucking asshole!” Jerry barked.

  “Hey, watch your language. There’s a lady listening,” Rob said, grinning. “Doc, have you ever heard of a drug called Isoniazid? I bet you have. I think you need to know that we have all the evidence we need to have your ass arrested for attempted murder. You see, Doc, we all know what you did. We know that it was you that suggested Melissa take Isoniazid. We also have copies of all those prescriptions you wrote and filled. And we know all about the vodka and the store where you bought it, that you put in her IV trying to damage her liver. And you would have gotten away with it, too, if it hadn’t had been for that transplant. Boy, I bet you were pissed about that. “

  Jerry wiped the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. “You can’t prove any of that!” he snarled.

  “I think you’re wrong there, Doc. I’m confident I have enough to convince a jury to convict you, but don’t worry. Melissa doesn’t want to put you in jail. She’d rather see you flat broke, homeless, living under a bridge somewhere. That’s what this is all about, but don’t worry, it’ll be over soon. You won’t last long living on the street. We all know what kind of a pussy coward you really are. Somebody will kill you, or you’ll kill yourself.”

  Rob stopped talking, waiting for him to say something, but he didn’t say a word. “Doc, are you still there? I hope so, because I’ve got a lot more to tell you. Yesterday, we had a meeting with a local judge. I showed him everything, all of it. Of course when he saw it, he wanted to have you arrested, but again, Melissa wouldn’t let him. However, she did allow him to put a restraining order against you. That means that if you try to make contact with her, in any way, you’ll be held in contempt of court. If you do that, you will go to jail.”

  He paused again. “What’s the matter there, Jerry? Cat got your tongue? I sure hope you heard what I just said, because this is not a joke. If you get within a thousand feet of her, I’ll make it my life goal to put your ass in prison.

  He paused and waited for him to say something, but all he could hear was his breathing. “Are we clear on that, Doctor? Say something, damn it! I want to make sure you are getting this.”

  “I heard you,” Jerry whispered.

  “Good. I have a few more things to tell you. I think you need to know that the state of Florida has revoked your medical license...permanently. And as a result, the state of North Carolina has banned you from practicing psychology in their state as well. That’s why you are locked out of your office. So from now on, Dr. Jeremiah Ashford Hollingsworth...you’re just plain old Jerry.

  “And finally, just in case you get any bad ideas about revenge or something stupid like that...you are no longer in Melissa’s will, and you have been replaced as the executor of Molly’s trust. Your free ride is over…you’re done.”

  They could hear him breathing hard, whimpering and crying over the speakerphone. “How could she do this to me?” he said barely above a whisper, “What am I supposed to do now? I don’t have any money and my credit cards have been canceled!”

  “She didn’t do this to you”, Rob said. “You did it to yourself you greedy, selfish bastard. I think the word is ‘karma’...and it’s a bitch. When it comes to what you do now? To paraphrase Rhett Butler, ‘Frankly, Scarlett, nobody, and I mean nobody, gives a damn!’”

  20

  The Truth About Annabelle

  The green-eyed monster of jealousy that I had expected from Meli
ssa toward Annabelle never reared its ugly head. It was just the opposite; the two of them had gotten close and had become good friends over the past few months.

  I will admit that Annabelle’s looks had become a slight distraction to me at times. It was especially difficult when she wore short skirts or tight fitting dresses that accentuated her body. On those days, I tried to stay away from her as much as possible, burying my head in my drawings and staying busy doing whatever I could think of to keep from walking down the stairs past her workstation.

  Of course, avoiding her completely was impossible, because often she needed to talk to me about one thing or another pertaining to the project. When those impromptu meetings occurred, I forced myself to look into her eyes, not at her body. What I was trying to do was to make her feel safe and respected around me, and I thought I had done a good job of it, but apparently my actions had caused a reverse effect.

  “Do you have a minute?” I looked up from my computer monitors to see her standing in my doorway.

  It was one of those days. She was wearing a very short skirt and a tight midriff knit blouse that exposed her tan flat belly and accented her breasts. She was barefoot, which made it even worse.

  I have this thing about feet. No, I do not have a foot fetish, just the opposite. I don’t really like feet much. I don’t like them, because most people’s feet are ugly as hell, with bent gnarly toes. But for as long as I can remember, it’s usually the first thing I notice about people, especially women. It’s one of the first things I look at. I know it’s a little weird, but I can’t help it.

  The day I first met Annabelle at the restaurant, she was wearing flip flops. After she and her friends slid over to my table, she slipped them off and was barefoot. I know I said that I didn’t really pay much attention to her looks that day and that’s true, but I did notice her feet. They were small, perfectly shaped, manicured and, well...beautiful. In my entire life, there has only been a handful of women that I thought had beautiful feet. Unfortunately, Annabelle was one of them.