A Trojan Affair

by Michael Smorenburg

  “I think that while he’s rocked we get him on our turf.”

  “Hmmm…” Marsha grappled with the notion, “and? To what end?”

  “Well, your objective is what—to get an apology? To see him rehabilitated?” JJ countered. “To have him pay—and I mean money and more—for what he’s done? I think we can get it all.”

  “I don’t care about money,” Marsha insisted.

  “Well, I think the money does matter. They have to pay his folks for all the medical at the least. And this is our moment to turn the screws. He’s on the run, scared as hell, way out of his depth. There’s no friendly Andre the policeman to make it go away.”

  Al saw that when JJ uttered his father’s name, he did not flinch; this was about business and not emotion.

  “He’s a typical bully,” JJ continued “A dog behind a fence. His family’s wealth and influence has let him throw his weight around.”

  “What exactly are you proposing?” Al chimed in.

  “Between my US partners in my business and some strings my wife, Morgan has access to, we can make things happen quickly. As I speak he’s being bundled off to the airport. I have agreement from his parents already that if he returns here, the civil and Equality Court cases against him will be suspended but only with both his and their agreement to undergo anger management and other psych evaluations.”

  Both listeners were nodding, and the waitress was hovering.

  “His parents will pay full medical plus a very handsome grant to a charity; a charity that makes sense to this cause.”

  “You have that agreement? In writing?” Al asked.

  “Not in writing, yet. That’s what Pieter is doing now.”

  “Anger management and psychological assessment in a town like this?” Marsha huffed her doubt.

  “Definitely not. No. There’s no way he can be rehabilitated here. No, no, and no. The terms are that he is extracted from this environment for at least two years. I watched him grow up, I know how to handle this boy. He’s pretty much me fifteen years ago.”

  “Really?” Al seemed aghast. “Surely not literally?

  “As close as, dammit, yes.” JJ assured. “I was… well, very unpleasant; a bully, headstrong, and I’m ashamed to say I… Well, I’m ashamed, let’s leave it at that.”

  “That makes it sounds like we’ve got bigger problems than one renegade,” Marsha observed.

  “We do, yes. Absolutely we do. It’s a culture of this nonsense, and this is an opportunity to break it. It’s guys like me who are to blame. When I left and got enlightened, I never came back to face down others like me. That’s the mistake, and that’s why the Neelses of this world keep cropping up in little forgotten villages all over the place. The few who recover from bigotry want nothing to do with it.”

  JJ covered his mouth, looking away, feeling ashamed to admit who he had been.

  The restaurant owner came over to ask if they had everything they needed, and they assured him they were happy. When he went to the kitchen, the two waitresses followed.

  “Now’s the time for change,” JJ went on. “Let me pick it apart for you. My dad, who I loved dearly, represented that ongoing thread of infection in the youngsters. He was assisted by this Calvinist tradition of stern old men who act as a sort of cabal—they’re the church elders. They’ve celebrated in it for decades, and have the whole system down to a fine art. The school principal handpicks the alpha personalities in the next generation, then they’re groomed through sport and captaincy, and the system is refined in the youth group of the church. With my dad gone and unlikely to be replaced, they lose their grip on smoothing over any abuses that crop up.”

  Al could see strong emotions written across JJ’s face as he disclosed his culture’s deepest secrets to outsiders. “I’m sorry you have to admit all of this.”

  “Yeah… admitting it’s not fun. They got it so deep in me that even now it feels like I’m betraying something sacred; makes me feel treasonous, and that gets me angry.”

  He paused a moment, shaking his head minutely with internal dialog.

  “It really starts with the Dominee; he plays the pivotal role. Everything that’s done round here is because God wants it thus. You heard it from Dara when he laughed about it with the staff; ‘when the Dominee’s angry, we must all be angry’. It’s a crazy mantra. It’s the source of years of tension between my dad and me. When I think about it, he was actually the victim, a puppet always dancing to that tune. And of course, I’m from a line of cops—they’re the henchmen who perpetuated it. And it’s just like this across every town and back through time. I suppose it’s like the sheriff in the Old West always running interference for ‘his people’ to have things go their way. It’s convenient when the law looks the other way, and the preacher justifies injurious behaviour with Old Testament assertions of the right for imposing bigotry.”

  “Wow, that’s a hell of an assessment,” Marsha said, just as the waitress’s ears arrived to straighten the already impeccable tablecloth on the adjacent table, so conversation dried till she left.

  “It’s necessary, Marsha.” JJ looked her in the eye. “And, the Dominee is now reeling because he’s been caught in a trap of his own ego… and this has given me a plan. I’d prefer him as an ally.”

  “Will he get behind it?” Al asked.

  “Hard to know. He’s a stubborn old bastard. On the other hand, I’ll say this for him; he’s a very moral man. Sometimes they’re very odd morals, but if he decides Broad’s dishonest…” He left the thought without conclusion.

  “Since your disclosure, I dug around about Broad and he does seem to have a rather checkered history,” Al said.

  “Checkered would be quite the euphemism,” JJ suggested. “This is my game, digging into facts and looking for legal loopholes, and this guy is buried in a tangle of them and I mean a really ugly bird’s nest of fraud, corruption, and outright hijacking of decency.”

  “Why has it not come to light before?” Marsha posed.

  “It’s there if you scratch enough, Marsha,” JJ began. “But the press won’t touch it when the big fish are involved. With Broad, too much rides on his philanthropy and connections to make waves. The trail isn’t easy to follow.”

  JJ was cut short when the waitress came back yet again to see if anyone needed anything; she was clearly consumed by curiosity from the juicy tidbits her earlier foray had yielded.

  “Do you want to pull up a seat?” JJ offered her, and she scuttled away.

  They all had a mild chuckle around the table as the other waitress and owner simultaneously evaporated to the kitchen to hear what she’d discovered.

  “Believe me, I’m even shocked. Broad is knee deep in it all; in coup plots to install puppet leaders of tin-pot dictatorships in Central America and Africa—anywhere there is a whiff of oil or diamonds, and God knows what else. I’ve traced him to financing completely bogus climate change denial organizations running fraudulent petitions by scientists who are dead or never existed. As you know, he’s up and down Africa agitating against homosexuals in countries like Uganda and Nigeria. And of course, here, through front companies, trying to get his hands on a piece of the fracking action they’re angling for.”

  “Wow. But how will we use this? Your information? This Neels situation?” Al was not a strategist and didn’t pretend at it, and he’d sensed that JJ had a plan formulating.

  “Several ways. I’ll handle the Dominee and put an end to this undercover nonsense they’re up to with the Bushmen. We can expose the pressure groups fronting with faith to cover their tracks. The implications of why countries stayed out of the SKA funding could be far reaching; maybe it shoots dirty politicians in the foot. I’ve found that there’s insider-trading going on here too, buyers snapping up cheap land. Everyone knows that the territory is earmarked for radio silence, so the value’s tanking, but if they bulldoze their objectives through and overturn the moratoriums on radio silence in place, the land explodes in value. If we
throw a spanner in those works, we leave crooks holding worthless land and we even put a kink in the plans of the fundamentalist juggernaut. And then there’s finding other Neelses in other regions.”

  “Quite a list,” Marsha rolled her eyes.

  “Quite a list.” JJ paused. “And Neels? I have another plan; it’s going to sound a bit crazy at first. Remember I told you I was a Neels? I know how bullies think, and I know how a bully reacts when he’s put in an environment that’s tougher than him. I’m going to propose that we have a six-month trial of something—an experiment. The school Dara is going to is just around the corner from a house I own.”

  “He’s going to school in the Southern Suburbs,” Marsha pointed out. “Don’t you live on the Atlantic Seaboard?”

  “That’s my beach cottage,” JJ corrected her. “An investment we enjoy on weekends and in the summer. Our main family home’s in the Southern Suburbs, and I run my office from it. Well, I think I told you before, that Morgan has a psychology degree. She’s not in active practice anymore, so she’s very excited to get back to it. I’ve been talking to her about this plan as it formed. Let me first say that she’s tough as hell; takes no nonsense, so she’s keen to make what I’m going to tell you a project.”

  Marsha sucked in air and emitted a light groan of concern, guessing at what might come next.

  “I want to put all three boys under the same roof for a time, Dara and Neels… and Dawie if he wishes. Morgan’s behind it; she feels she can take it on full time.”

  “You’re not serious?” Marsha replied, mouth agape.

  “Well, I sort of was. Morgan said the same thing at first.”

  “Before you did a sales job on her?” Marsha challenged.

  Al’s brow was furrowed, clearly calculating the possibilities. “Let’s hear him out, Marsh.”

  “I’m really not selling it, just putting it on the table. It’s up to you.”

  “Maybe Dara and Dawie should be part of this discussion,” Al suggested.

  “Dara always thinks he can cope,” Marsha added with concern.

  “Please, I’m just offering and suggesting.” He held up his hands in surrender. “These aren’t snap decisions, they’re possible courses.”

  “The outcome?” Al tilted his head.

  “Constructive engagement—you can’t change anything when it remains in isolation.”

  “Hmmm…” Marsha covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes betraying the cogs clicking over.

  “Dawie? Could he really cope with the city, under these circumstances? Should he have to cope in his second to last year of school?”

  “I’ve chatted again with Fiske, the science teacher. He’s adamant that the boy is gifted and incredibly stable. ‘Wasted here’ is what he repeated; those were his exact words. So sure, you can leave him here as he is; he can battle forward. I’m sure he’ll be fine. Or you can open the cage and see if he wants to fly. There are no guarantees and it’s a compromise whichever way it goes. We can’t decide… let’s leave it up to him.”

  “And you’re not selling this?” The first twinkle of a smile returned to Marsh’s eye, JJ returning it.

  “I’m going to start selling it now,” JJ assured. “He’s the right age for his grade, so even if he loses a year, and re-does this year in a new environment, he really loses nothing.”

  “And culturally? We talked about this; you take him away from it, and…?”

  “I’ve spoken again to Dawie, he’s keen. His grandfather’s his only positive influence and, uhm… Well, the old man’s health is not looking good. If he goes…?” He let the statement hang. “Anyway…” He gathered his keys off the table. “It’s food for thought. We have a few weeks before we need decisions. Right now, I’ve got to go across to the clinic to see the situation with Oom Karel. I just heard that they’ve booked him in as an inpatient, which is about the worst thing they could have done.”

  “Hmmm?” voiced Marsha, lifting both eyebrows quizzically.

  “Let’s think it over,” Al spoke for them both.

  JJ looked at his phone and nodded at what he saw. “If we have agreement? Pieter said he’ll explain the documents he’s been drawing up for Neels. They need your signature; can you stop on by there?”

  Marsha looked at Al and they both nodded. “The Neels bit…” Al was already nodding agreement to what she was going to say. “I think we can go with it, I—we—trust your insight.”

  Al checked his watch. “Oooh… for a lawyer’s meeting you have to count me out, it’s too tight now; I’m flying later and haven’t packed yet.”

  JJ sucked air in through his teeth and they both read that it meant urgency.

  “I could do it,” Marsha volunteered to Al, “if you drop me and collect me later?”

  “I could play taxi if it helps,” JJ suggested. “Pieter says he’ll only need you for twenty minutes. By then I’ll be done with my first errand and can pick you up on my way back, then drop you at home after I’ve popped by the clinic, if you don’t mind waiting.”

  Chapter 36

  “Do you have no respect for my Faith? For the Faith of your father?”

  “Oom, I respect you as a man as I respected my father,” JJ countered. “I respect yours and his… intelligence. I respect this intelligence so much that the way I honour it and show it respect is to say that I think you are more intelligent than the ideas you hold.” And he braced for the backlash.

  JJ was not disappointed. The Dominee grew red in the face and growled about the insult the younger man had served to him, proceeding to admonish him for degrading his belief and Faith as mere ideas.

  “How dare you?!”

  “It is not about ‘daring’ or my arrogance, Oom. What I said I really mean. I had the same Faith as you do; you and my father crafted that in me. But I have since then exposed myself to the medical realities of how the brain works and through that knowledge I came to understand that…”

  “I’ve heard enough of this modern rubbish to last me a lifetime,” Gert cut him off. “And this is why I am against Neels going to Cape Town and living under your guidance.”

  “I’m afraid there is no option to that, Oom.” JJ did not take offense, and he tried to deliver his message without unduly giving any. “With all respect, that you are against it is academic. Neels is guilty of offences here, and in America too, that will send him to a far worse place than living under my authority. May I ask what offends you about my influence?”

  “Since you went to the city and married that woman, you changed. You left here as a good young man strong in your Faith. You have become influenced by her and the modern world and I don’t like the modern world and its teachings. I don’t like what you became. All the nonsense from the city and that foreigner changed you; that’s the evil they’re trying to force on our children here...”

  “Really?” JJ kept his voice neutral and resisted the urge to add a provocative response. “What of the modern world offends you? We have better communications, easier travel, safer food, better medicine… the list goes on.”

  “I’m in favour of these things,” Gert declared.

  “You say you are, and then you actively try to suppress them at the school,” JJ charged.

  “Suppress? What do you accuse me of?” Gert’s affront was real. He was unaware of suppressing any of these matters.

  “In the science class. I met with the new teacher, Mr. Fiske. As just one example, he says you are pressuring him and the other teachers to leave evolutionary studies out of the biology syllabus. Pressuring the children to boycott it.”

  “Yes, evolution; I don’t like lies and evolution is a lie. Another of these modern lies to confuse and mislead the children. It has no benefit to them,” the Dominee insisted.

  “It’s a hundred and sixty years old, I wouldn’t call that modern. But it does underlie all modern medicine… antibiotics, cancer treatments, anaesthetics and much else; yes Oom, in that regard it is perhaps modern. You’ve said you were fo
r medicine, but you want to ensure that the children in your care can never understand it? That makes no sense to me.”

  “Well, I don’t believe in evolution and I can’t support children learning what I don’t believe in.”

  “And I don’t believe in evolution either,” JJ let the statement hit the Dominee and gave it a pause to let it sink in.

  “You don’t? I thought you did? I thought you were arguing for it?”

  “I am arguing in its favour, yes; but, of course I don’t believe in evolution. Then again, I also don’t believe in arithmetic—I understand arithmetic, Oom; understand and apply it. That is the proper way with science; we don’t ever believe in any of the sciences. We only aspire to grasp them so that we can apply them and master our world, master engineering and master biology.”

  “You have developed an answer for everything,” the Dominee accused.

  “Thank you,” JJ took the insult out of it. “That’s because I think deeply about everything Oom, and I’m not ashamed of that. I expose myself to others far more intelligent than me who are experts in understanding and studying about things.” He paused. “I did not come here to argue about these things. The matter with Neels is settled. His parents have signed a memorandum of understanding already, the document I need as a surety to help them get him back here and to have the charges here suspended against him. I only wanted to inform you of it as a courtesy.”

  The Dominee shook his head, turned, and walked slowly away down the aisle toward the altar. His head was bowed, and JJ could see that he had his right hand up to his mouth. His finger would be crooked like a question mark tapping his pursed lips; the pose meant he was deep in thought, digesting the information to see if there was an escape out of the trap.

  “What I really came to do, is talk about your problems.” As JJ said it, the Dominee whirled and looked at him.

  “My problems?”

  “Yes Oom, with the Americans.”

  “What…” Gert was going to ask “what Americans?” but he caught himself—JJ was too smart and connected to be unaware of their presence in town. “What problems?” Gert tested him to see how deep his knowledge of the details and his folly ran.