whither Willow?

by Peter Ponzo

  "Either ... both," said Cail. "If we find Kooky, we find the money. If we find the money then who needs Kooky?"

  "Right!" cried Willy. "Who needs Kooky Colby. We just need his loot."

  "There ain't nothin' here. Let's go back," said Phil.

  They stood there for some time, peering into the dark corners of the bush and staring out over the lake. Michael Colby could see them all from the tree. When would they see the dollar bill? Had it sunk? Did money sink? Maybe he had wasted the dollar. Maybe he had just thrown it away - for nothing.

  "Hey! Look out there!" It was Willy. He was pointing out over the lake. They all rushed to the edge and pointed.

  "Yeah! I see it. Looks like a bill."

  "Why would Mikey toss his money out there?" It was Phil. "That's crazy."

  "Maybe he hid it around here - someplace - and it just sort of blew away - onto the lake." It was Ronnie.

  "Let's look around. Could be more around here." It was Cail and they all began to stomp through the bush looking under rotting logs and into stumps. After a few minutes Cail said, "What would you say that bill was ... floating out there?"

  "A buck," said Phil.

  "You kiddin'? Looks more like twenty bucks. Kooky's been stashin' his loot for years."

  "Yeah ... it's a twenty at least," agreed Willy. Willy always agreed with somebody else. He rarely had an original thought in his head. He was a little chubby, always dirty and downright stupid at times.

  "Okay," said Cail. "Who's goin' in to get it?"

  "Are you crazy?" cried Phil. "They ain't no bottom! That lake goes down forever!"

  "Willy? How much money do you think is floatin' out there?" Cail looked directly at Willy and Willy straightened up as best he could. Cail didn't usually talk to him directly, but now he did.

  "Twenty, sure as shootin'."

  "Well, if we split it four ways then it's five bucks apiece. But the guy who goes in to get it oughta get more." Cail rubbed his chin and Willy leaned forward. "I'd say the guy who gets it should go home with six bucks in his pants instead of five." Willy began to smile and Cail stared up and rubbed his chin again. "Maybe even seven."

  Willy didn't even wait for any further discussion. He just ploughed right into the water, sloshing and rocking from side to side.

  "How much does that leave us?" asked Ronnie.

  "Yeah ... why'd you say that, Cail?" said Phil. "And what if it ain't a twenty? Looks like a buck to me."

  But Cail was looking out after Willy who was up to his waist in muck by the time he got to the bill.

  "Hey! It ain't a twenty!" shouted Willy. "It's a buck!"

  "See? I told you!" cried Phil. "A buck! So how much does that leave us?"

  Willy struggled back, but began to sink further into the lake. Then he just disappeared under the water and there was only a few ripples and a dollar bill floating where Willy used to be.

  "Holy Christ!" yelled Ronnie. "Let's get the hell outta here!"

  Ronnie turned and ran up the hill and Phil followed. Cail pushed a log from the bank and it floated lazily to the spot where Willy had disappeared. The spot was now murky and swirling.

  Willy's hand came up.

  "Grab the log, Willy!" shouted Cail, his face now bright red.

  Willy's head came up, gasping, spluttering. He reached for the log but it slipped away and headed out across the lake. Cail stepped gingerly out into the murky water, his hands held high. Then a rope snaked out over his head and landed right beside Willy who was trying desperately to swim in the muck.

  "Grab the rope, Willy!" shouted Michael. Willy did and together Cail and Michael dragged him to the edge of Sparrow Lake. When he crawled out of the muck, Michael said, "Your mom ain't gonna notice a thing Willy. You're just as filthy as usual."

  Phil and Ronnie started to laugh. They had heard Michael shouting and had stopped running up the hill and came back to see Willy being dragged from the bowels of the lake.

  "Christ, Kooky ... uh, Mikey," gasped Willy. "You got here just in time. I was gone good."

  "Yeah, Michael," said Ronnie. "Willy was real lucky."

  Phil nodded his head in agreement, but Cail looked at Michael and frowned.

  "How come you just happened to have a rope?" Cail asked.

  "Yeah," said Willy, wiping the muck from one place to another across his shirt. "How come a rope?"

  "Rope?" said Michael softly. "To climb a tree. What else?"

  Ronnie looked up at the nearby trees, then at Michael. "A tree? Why are you climbing trees in the bog?"

  "Well ... " said Michael putting his hands in his jacket pockets and pulling out two dollar bills. "I didn't want to say anything to you guys, but ... well, maybe I still shouldn't say anything." He looked around as though someone might be listening. "Never can be too careful you know." They were all staring at the money in his hand. "I guess nobody's around and I know you guys wouldn't tell nobody." Michael pointed to the huge tree he had climbed. "See ... I've been stashing my money here. You know my Pa. If he got his hands on it then he'd just take it for sure. So I've been stashing it up in that big old tree. Keep this here rope around so I can climb up to where I keep it - up there in that big old tree." Michael pointed and they all looked up into the tree.

  Nobody talked for a few seconds then Cail said, "There was a buck on the lake. That yours?"

  "Yeah," grunted Michael. "Dropped it when I was up the tree. Just floated down and out onto the lake." He looked at the lake. The bill was gone. "Guess I lost it now," he said.

  Phil started back up the hill and Ronnie followed. Willy kept trying to push the muck from his clothes, but it looked worse and he just stared down and groaned. Cail shook his head and started after Phil and Ronnie.

  "Hey you guys!" shouted Michael. "You didn't tell me why you were here? What you all doin' at Sparrow Lake?"

  They all stopped to look back at Michael, then at each other, then they all started to talk at once:

  "Lookin' for ducks."

  "Nice day for walkin'."

  "Nothin' else to do."

  "Had to pull me out of the lake."

  Michael smiled and pushed the bills back into his pocket. They all saw him smile. Then they started up the hill again.

  They knew what had really happened, and Michael knew, and they knew that Michael knew ... but nobody ever mentioned it again - not for a long time.

  CHAPTER 33

  Colby Clinic

  Michael Colby turned away from the window, slid into the huge black leather chair and looked across the walnut desk at his office. He was a big man, six foot five, without a trace of hair. His head rose like a mountain from his broad shoulders. And his office was built to match his physique. He always felt his size contributed to his success. When he was ready to close a deal he would make sure he was standing, towering over his opponents. He would put his hand on their shoulder. That always made them look up at him. That was intimidating. And he always wore black suits. That seemed to increase his stature too. Michael Colby, big and black-suited, driving a Cadillac, big and black.

  His office was sparsely furnished. To either side of the door were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, built into the wall, every shelf filled with large and impressive books. He hadn't read any of them but when Lawrence, Whittaker and Manny decided to retire he had bought every book in their law office.

  On his left was the heavy oak door to the washroom and on his right was a circular walnut table with magazines arrayed neatly, overlapping, in a gentle arc from one side to the other. Around the table were four padded leather chairs, almost as large as the chair he sat in now. His desk was completely bare. Even the telephone was in a sliding drawer and his cigars and ashtray were in another. He had visited a vice president of IBM last year and saw that his desk was bare. How did he manage that? Michael Colby always had papers and pencils and phone and paper clips and other junk on his desk. My secretary looks after everything the man had said.
She tells me what to do and when to do it. That's efficiency, organization. I just make the decisions the man had said. Colby had immediately ordered a large desk with plenty of drawers and a huge surface which he now maintained free of junk.

  He ran his hand over the surface of the desk and smiled. Cail Vinney would be here soon, Doctor Cail Vinney. He hadn't seen Cail since they graduated from high school. Ronnie was working as a manager in one of Michael's plants, the tool and die plant near Cambridge. Phil was in sales; Waterloo County Meat Packers. He was actually good at that. All the stores and butchers within two hundred miles carried Waterloo County sausages and sliced meats. And Willy? Good old Willy. Stupid old Willy. He worked in the Packers, too - butchering hogs. Willy loved his job. The hogs would run down the ramp, squealing and snorting and old Willy would ...

  Miss Capricorn knocked, opened the door and peeked in, just her head showing.

  "Mr. Colby? Mr. Vinney is here now. Shall I send him in?"

  "No ... wait just a minute. I'm busy right now. I'll tell you when. I'll buzz."

  Miss Capricorn smiled sweetly and her head disappeared and the door closed quietly.

  Let old Cail wait for a minute. Colby looked at his watch. It was nearly noon and Cail could wait. Colby could walk into the mayor's office, right into her office without an appointment, without waiting - but Cail could wait until Michael Colby was good and ready. Colby pulled out a pad of paper from a drawer and placed it in the center of his desk, then a pen, then walked to a shelf and pulled down a large book and put it on the desk. He was a busy man and Cail couldn't expect to just walk in, even if he had arrived exactly at 11:45 as arranged.

  At precisely noon Colby pushed a button by the side of his desk and opened the book. When Miss Capricorn led Cail Vinney into the room Colby was copying from the book onto the pad of paper. Cail stood for a moment before Colby looked up.

  "Cail! You old dog! Have a seat. Take the weight off."

  Cail looked around. There was no nearby chair so he stood. Colby leaned back and stuck his pen in his jacket pocket along with the other six pens, ignoring the fact that Cail had nowhere to sit.

  "Long time no see. So ... how you been Cail?"

  Colby smiled and reached into a drawer for a cigar, taking his time to light it, then blowing smoke across the desk.

  "I'm okay Mikey," said Cail. "How have you been? How's Marg?"

  "How'd you know I married Marg Kultise?"

  "Everybody knows. You're sort of ... well, famous, if that's the right word."

  "Yeah - I guess that's the word. Marg's fine, just fine."

  After a long and bitter divorce which had been a primary source of local news, Colby had married again: Margrit Kultise. Marg had been a beauty queen when she was 18, a well-known baton twirling champion, a leader in several fund raising campaigns and more recently a crusader for a clean air policy. She was the darling of New Bamberg and a frequent guest on the local news. The marriage had been in all the papers and the entire town had been invited for a barbecue. They jostled and shoved to get a look at the newlyweds. The men had lined up to shake hands with Michael and the women had crowded around Marg.

  "I still remember when she won the baton twirling contest," said Cail. "She's a great girl, Marg. A little young but ... I mean ... uh, we're all proud of you Mikey. Local boy who makes good - to the top of the financial ladder. I think everybody is glad you decided to stick around Waterloo County. You could have gone off to where the action is - where the big money is - but you stayed here and I guess that's why we're all proud of you."

  Colby smiled and blew his smoke off to the side. Cail was a nice enough guy.

  "Let's sit over there Cail ... more cosy." They moved to the round table in the corner and Colby looked around for an ashtray. There was none so he dumped his ashes on the floor. "Cleaning lady ... comes in every night," he said. "Okay Cail. Let's have it. Why did you come to see me?"

  Colby knew precisely why Cail had come. He had opened his clinic in rented quarters less than a year ago and couldn't get government funding. Several doctors in town had put up some money but Cail had put in everything - and the other doctors were pulling out. Cail was broke. His house was mortgaged to the hilt, his wife was working full time and their combined salary wasn't enough to pay the bills. He had to raise his fees to cover the rent and the people started going back to General Hospital, more crowded, less personal attention, but cheaper and, in the end, that's what counted. The almighty dollar. Colby smiled. He had bought the building less than a year ago; the building in which the clinic was located. Cail paid rent to him.

  "You probably know why I'm here Michael," said Dr. Vinney, slowly. "The rent is more than I can manage. I really don't want to close down the clinic, but I may have to. I think New Bamberg needs a clinic like this - a place where people can get the personal attention they need. A place where -"

  "Look Cail," said Colby, leaning towards Cail and staring him right in the eye. "You just don't understand the masses. I mean, give 'em a choice between steak and beans and they choose steak. Now tell 'em the steak is going to cost them and what do they do? They eat beans."

  Colby got up and walked around the room. Cail twisted in his chair to follow him. Colby stood by the window and watched Cail, twisted in his chair, the light from the window glaring in his eyes.

  "If you come for money I got mine all tied up. People think I've just got money sticking outta my pockets. Not true. In a business like mine you gotta have it all invested, workin' for you. If you've come to have the rent lowered I can't help there either. See ... I look after the properties owned by Colby Enterprises but I don't make all the decisions. There's a board of directors. They agree on a figure and I just see that it's done. Got that?"

  Cail got up from his chair, nodding his head.

  "No. I haven't come for any handouts. Not for any reduction in rent or any special consideration. I have a proposition to make."

  Colby walked around his desk and sat down at the table again. Cail remained standing.

  "The clinic is losing money. I have to tell you that. We're doctors not business men. But it doesn't have to. It can be profitable if someone with some business acumen runs it - I mean the business end of it. That's the proposition. You take over the clinic and we'll work for you." Cail sat down and took a deep breath.

  Colby leaned back and smiled. So. Cail would be working for him after all. He had the others under his thumb: Phil, Ronnie, Willy - now Cail Vinney - Doctor Cail Vinney. The clinic was a dead loss, he knew that, but this was too good to pass up. He already owned the building. He'd forget about the rent and take a cut of their salaries. Not much, but they would be working for him. He might even decide on their salaries. Yes, that was good. He would decide how much Doctor Cail Vinney brought home to his wife and family. Cail might even have to work overtime to make ends meet.

  "Tell you what I'll do, Cail. The clinic is a losing proposition and not the kind of investment I'm used to, but I'm a community-minded man. The new wing of the library - didn't I pay for that? And the Colby Complex on King Street, with the home for wayward girls - don't charge them a cent. But that's okay. I'm just that sort of guy. Here's what I'll do. I'll take over the clinic. I'll pay all the bills and buy whatever equipment you need and advertise in the Gazette and have the townsfolk clamoring to get in - for all that special treatment they'll get at the clinic. And I'll pay your salary. You and the other doctors there. And you won't have to worry about anything except looking after the patients, giving them that special treatment. How's that?"

  "Sounds great Michael. I'll have to discuss this with the others of course, but I'm sure they'll agree." Cail grinned. "We'll probably haggle over salary, but that's to be expected, eh?"

  Colby got up and walked to the door.

  "I'll have a contract made up for early next week. I'll need the signatures of all the doctors in the clinic. Capricorn will give you a call. You can drop by, pick up the papers,
get the signatures then drop the stuff back here."

  Cail held out his hand and Colby shook it briefly, then closed the door as Cail left. He went to his desk and pushed the buzzer. Miss Capricorn stuck her head around the door.

  "Come in, Capricorn. Sit down." Michael Colby always said that, even though he never had a chair by his desk, so Miss Capricorn stood, as usual. "I want you to make arrangements for my wife to be admitted to that clinic ... what the hell is the name of that clinic anyway?"

  "Do you mean Vinney Clinic?"

  "Vinney? No ... Colby Clinic, double C. Yes, perfect!" Colby chuckled. "Make arrangements for my wife."

  "But it's not that sort of clinic ... I mean, it's just a group of doctor's offices, specialists who do special surgery - that kind of thing. Your wife should really go the General -"

  "Capricorn! I own that clinic! If I want to put my wife in there, then by God I will put her there. See that it's done. Tell 'em I own the bloody clinic. Understand? And when you talk to them, call it Colby Clinic. Got that?"

  "Yes, Mr. Colby, I understand. That's wonderful Mr. Colby. It's a wonderful clinic. The doctors are so wonderful and -"

  "Yes, yes. Just do as I say. Marg's expecting in about two weeks so get her in there by the end of next week."

  "I most certainly will Mr. Colby. Mrs. Colby will be so pleased. She's expecting twins, isn't she?"

 

  Room 47

  It was probably the hardest thing that Cail Vinney ever had to do, but now it was done. The doctors had agreed to the terms of the contract after much debate and he had taken the papers back to Colby. By the following week Colby had put a full page ad in the Gazette advertising the opening of the all-new Colby Clinic for the best in personal care. As Vinney had expected, the mayor turned out for the ceremonies as well as many members of city council. The paper had carried it on page three. How did Colby miss not having it on the front page? Surely it was more important than some middle-east crisis. Anyway, they could hardly keep up with the demand for their services and other doctors wanted to join the team. They weren't so excited about being on Colby's payroll, but they came anyway.

  Some of the offices had to be turned into a maternity ward at Colby's insistence, but that turned out to be an attraction too. All the well-to-do wanted to have their babies in the clinic and would be willing to pay extra for it. It was quite remarkable how much extra a husband was willing to pay when it involved his brand new son or daughter. Nurses were hired for around-the-clock service and a part of the clinic operated like a small hospital. Not the usual practice, but it seemed to be working well.