by Erica Hale
An older woman that sat at the front desk smiled at Tyson and frowned at me.
“May I help you?”
“Yes, I am the attorney for Anthony Neilson and I would like to speak to the arresting officer.”
The woman took another look at me. “Forrest has been expecting you.” She stood from her desk and walked us around the wooden booth.
Forrest, I presume, grinned at the both of us while jabbing his hand at Tyson, which he didn’t take.
“We are here to get the young man that you unlawfully arrested.”
Tyson had put on the voice of total control and the pulling out of respect.
Forrest paused and smirked.
“Please sir, do not take this as a joke. I will have your department here so wrapped up in court that your grandchildren will owe me and mine. I will dig into your hillbilly heaven and rip it apart.”
I looked up at Tyson, who was in strict lawyer mode.
I wanted to hug him around his neck.
“Now, you know as well as I do none of the charges you have against Mr. Neilson will stick. Let him go, and do it now.”
Shoving his hands back into his pocket, Forrest looked around his tiny department. Only three other men sat at their desk and pretended not to listen.
Forrest rocked back and forth on his heels for a moment.
“Simpson, get the kid out of lock up.”
I thought my knees were going to give out from the load that had lifted off my chest.
“It’s going to be okay, I promise,” Tyson whispered.
Anthony came around the corner and the energy that I thought had left came back. I started to run to him.
In mid-stride, Forrest caught my arm.
“He’s better off here with his own kind.”
Tyson pushed his hand off me and I wrapped my arms around my son.
“Are you okay? Honey, I’m so sorry, let’s go home.”
I looked into my son’s eyes and the look that he gave me made everything in me wilt.
“Sure,” he said.
He walked past Tyson and me straight out the door.
“What did you do to him?” I yelled, charging toward Forrest. “What did you do to my son?”
Tyson stood in between us as I clawed to get to Forrest. “I gave him the truth, something that you should have done a long time ago.”
I raked my mind. Anthony and I have been a team since the day I walked out of the hospital with him. There wasn’t anything that I held from him.
“Let’s go,” Tyson said, tugging at my elbow. “If you even look at this woman or her family again, I will be back and I will bring lawsuits with me.”
Anthony stood in the open lot of the police station with a snarl on his face.
“Honey, say thank you to Mr. Tyson for helping me get you out.”
There was no light behind my son’s eyes and he looked at Tyson. His blonde hair took on the color of ink from his sweat. His clothes were wrinkled, but his eyes were worse. Dark circles lay under his hollowed out eyes. I understood that he probably hadn’t slept since he got here.
“Thank you,” he said, getting in the back of Tyson’s Mercedes.
The short trip there morphed into the journey to Everest on the way back. The silent tension was tighter than a knot.
Once Tyson slowed the car, Anthony was out of it and up the walkway before either of us could get out of the car. The blatant disrespect displayed by my son made my jaw drop.
“Tyson, I am sorry for his behavior. He--”
“Don’t worry about it. The kid had a rough few hours. I’ve seen it before; just give him some space and let him rest. This was a traumatic experience for the both of you,” he reminded me, rubbing my tense shoulders. “If those guys do anything to you or your son, you call me.”
“Thank you,” I said, shaking his hand and exiting in the car.
Lines of irritation were all over Anthony’s face when I got to the door. Once unlocked, he shot up the stairs and slammed the door.
I slowly trailed behind him up the stairs. I took a shower and put on some clothes. I stood in the hallway with another war going on. My options were to go downstairs, get in the car and go to work so I can continue to feed this brat, or go to his room, knock and go several rounds with him about his behavior.
I knocked and opened the door. My son laid on his bed with his phone to his head.
“Anthony, I need to speak to you.”
His eyes cut to me and he continued to talk, “Yeah, that’s her. Now she wants to talk to me. Whatever, let me talk to you later, EJ.”
My son, or the person that looked just like him, looked me dead and the face and asked me, “What?”
I was prepared to go back to the police station and pick up my son because this little shit couldn’t be my kid.
“Anthony, what the hell has gotten into you? I’m sorry that you had to spend the night in jail but I did the best that I could to get you out. What is going on?”
Anthony gave me a blank stare as if I was a stranger. The longer he stared at me, the more my chest began to grow tight.
“Don’t you have to get to work?”
“You don’t worry about what the hell I have to do. You answer me. You know that I can outlast you.” He didn’t move. He just looked at me like he had never seen me. “And what the hell are you doing talking to the kid across the street? The little bastard put you in jail, don’t you remember?”
“He lied, but he had a reason.” He stood up over me. “Unlike you, you didn’t have a reason.”
Taking a fist full of his collar, I pulled him down, so that he and I could be face to face. “You listen, and you listen to me good, I don’t know what you are talking about, so if you want to keep this up, fine. I’ve told you before and I will tell you again. In this house, you don’t have to love me, but you will respect me if you want to continue living here.”
“Then maybe I won’t.”
I let go of his shirt and my hand fell to my waist. I couldn’t move as I watched my son shove his cell phone in his back pocket, walk out the room and down the hall. The slamming of the front door shook me to my core.
I gave myself a second to put on my shoes and get in my car. I drove in a fog to work and snuck in. Frank wasn’t in his office and I took that as a good sign. I booted up my computer and began searching on the history of this town. I wanted to know all its secrets and evil that was no longer dormant but scratching at the surface. Just like I thought, nothing but a few meth arrest here and there on the other side of town. I found a few highlights of Clay and the trial that was going on up in Washington. Maybe it was women’s intuition or the journalist side of me rearing its head, but I knew that Planters had more secrets than a high school girl. Secrets that have held this hellhole on a map together, and I also knew that they were enough to rip it at the seams.
★★★★★★★★★★
Scorching dust launched behind Leland’s truck when he crossed the chain link fence of McCall’s Construction. Ernest had called him and said that it was important that the two meet. Getting out his wrecker on tired legs, he was more irritated that Ernest couldn’t just tell him over the phone.
Leland just walked in without a knock to the trailer that acted as Ernest’s office. The smell of cheap liquor and smoke attacked his nose when stepping into the office.
“There’s my guy,” Ernest slurred.
Leland couldn’t help but look at the Miller Beer wall clock, hell, it wasn’t even eleven yet.
“Bout time you got here.”
Marvin, Ernest’s brother sat on the cracked imitation leather chair and gave an awkward smile.
“Had no idea we were having a party. What’s going on?” Leland asked.
Taking slow, deliberate steps towards him, Ernest put an arm around Leland’s neck. “We got that black bitch where we want her. She’ll be out of Planters by the end of the week,” he spoke, hiccupping and blowing the harsh liquor smell at Leland. “My boy c
alled and said that her son left. The kid is sitting over at our house right now. You know that she won’t go for that, she’s probably calling her realtor and doing her best to get her son away from us. Isn’t that great?”
“That’s what we wanted, her out of Planters,” Leland said, eyeing the overflowing trash can.
Ernest spoke, narrowing his already glazed over eyes. “You don’t sound too happy ‘bout it. What? You wanted a little piece of that before she gets out of dodge, didn’t cha?”
Leland didn’t say anything. He just tried to wiggle up from under Ernest’s arm.
“Leland, just do it. The boy is probably going to be bunking at Ernest’s house. Just slip over there tonight.”
Marvin leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and rubbed his grubby hands together.
“Matter of fact, I think you should pay her a visit tonight. Make sure that she is good and scared, hell, make her run out of town so fast that she’ll leave her son behind.” The brothers laughed and Leland’s stomach turned sour. “Shoot, EJ’s good for nothing. I can start over with a new boy. Raise him up really good. He ain’t got no real family no way.”
Ernest shouldn’t be allowed to raise a cactus as far as any child service agency was concerned.
“Yeah, so is that all you got to tell me? I’m still on the clock,” he reminded him, taking a look at the metal door that he wished he could get through shortly.
“Thought you would be happy; we are keeping Planters white like it’s supposed to be--”
“Like this country is supposed to be,” Marvin interrupted his brother.
Ernest said, plopping back down on his worn leather chair behind his desk, “I guess that’s it. But I still think you need to go over and unintroduce her to the neighborhood.”
Ernest leaned back, putting a Camel cigarette between his teeth.
Leland nodded and gripped the door handle.
“By the way Lee, the information that you got on that nigger and her kid came in handy. Forrest told me the kid was past pissed off. Good job,” he praised him, jacking his thumb in the air at Leland.
Leland didn’t even comment or look back when we walked out of the trailer. Wind had picked up when he got to his truck. Lowering his cap to shield his eyes from the dust, Leland took off back down the street and thought how he broke up an innocent woman’s home. Now, he was going to break her.
★★★★★★★★★★
The two brothers looked at each and shrugged at Leland’s departure.
“What crawled up his ass and died?” Marvin asked, looking over to his big brother. “Thought his ass would be excited.”
Ernest ran his tongue over his dry lips. “Maybe he has a little thing for her, who knows. All I know is that gal will be out of Planters, and soon.”
Both brothers looked to the trailer door when it swung open. Expecting Leland to come through, they were surprised to see another man stood in the doorway.
“Now who in the hell are you?”
Marvin asked, standing and pointing his beer at the trailer intruder.
Ernest bumps his leg against his desk, pushing paperwork to the floor to stand between his brother and the uninvited guest.
“I thought you were going to be here next week,” Ernest stammered. “I mean we are always welcome here, just wasn’t expecting you is all. I’m just saying because--”
The intruder put his hand up to stop Ernest from tripping over his words.
Marvin’s upper lip snarled at him.
“You didn’t answer my question. Who in the hell are you?”
Marvin’s eyes were still stuck on the man. He took one step forward, bumping into his brother’s back.
“Ernest,” was all the man said behind his dark sunglasses.
Ernest spoke, turning to his brother, “You need to leave.”
“But--”
“But nothing. Take your tail on home. I’ll call you later on tonight.”
Marvin gave the guy one more look, took another beer and left.
Ernest expelled a sigh of relief. “Now you can come in and take a seat if you would like.”
The man stood around six foot, which put Ernest at ease. He knew if they would have sent someone bigger, this little visit wasn’t going to be just a conversation.
Folding his sunglasses and putting inside his breast pocket of his suit, the guy smiled. “Ernest, as you well know, this is not me coming down here to tell you what a great job you are doing. You know that, right?”
Pressing his lips together, Ernest’s eyes went to the floor. “Yes. I know.”
Clearing his throat, the man continued, “So if you know, please tell me what I’m here for.”
Ernest opened his mouth, but the man stopped him.
Lifting his hand again to silence him, he spoke, I need for you to go into detail on why I am here.”
“Well, ah. You’re here because what you gave me isn’t moving.”
The man smiled again as if he was watching a child play with a toy. In fact, that was how Ernest was feeling right about now. He felt as if he were a child only conceived for this guy’s amusement.
“Remember Ernest, I said in detail. Now go on.”
Licking his lips, he continued, “You sent us some product and we haven’t been able to get another dealer as of yet. But, we will, and it will be soon. I think I have a guy set up for the job. He works here for me at the site and has been begging for some overtime. I think I’ll put him on.”
Ernest held his breath and waited for any sign that he was off the hook. Truth was that the last dealer that they had was killed. Not by any rival, hell, they didn’t have any rivals in Planters. It was a freak motorcycle accident that killed Daniel.
“There are so many problems with your statement. One, you have a dead dealer, two you want to put a guy ‘on’, so you say. And three, the heroin that you are supposed to be selling is just sitting in an unsecure place.” Ernest gulped. “I’m glad I have your attention. This guy, have you vetted him? Does he know what he will be stepping into if he starts dealing for us?”
“I checked him out. He got out Georgia Correctional no less than a month ago. He’s itching to get into some action, I can tell,” Ernest said.
The gentleman casually rolled his eyes. “You couldn’t tell if the sky was blue at this point. I can smell your breath outside of this shithole you call an office.” Alcohol was sweating out of Ernest’s pores. “What I think is best is that I will have one of my guys come in and serve up the bottom part of Planters. Please, the guy that I have in mind is able to cook it too.”
The gentleman winked.
“I think we have it. I mean, once I get this guy up, I promise it will be smooth.”
Ernest knew he was speaking out of turn to this guy. He also knew that any false move on his part can mean death to his boy and or his brother.
“I’m just asking for another chance. You know I’d never let you down on purpose. This is a small bump in a very large locomotive. You could barely feel it.”
The gentleman clapped his hands together and cocked his head at Ernest. “You don’t know how large or how small we are.” He smiled and started again. “And when I say ‘we’, that doesn’t include you or your little backwoods operation. We don’t need you; you need us to survive here.” The gentleman straightened his tie. “Granted, you were available, and this little hillbilly haven you all got going here is perfect.”
The gentleman ignored the flexing of Ernest’s fist from the insult of this hick’s own personal Mayberry.
“I can reassure you sir, that we, as in my guys here, will have it all taken care of for you. We will be up in running strong in the next week.”
“I want it done in the next forty-eight hours.”
Willing his mouth not to drop, he promised, “We will try.”
“No, you will do!” the gentleman shouted down at Ernest, making him back up. “The animals on the other side of this town need to be neutralized. Do you know wh
at that means?”
“Yes, it means--”
“Shut up. It was a rhetorical question, you dumb ass hick. We need the black side of this town gone, dead, finished. The same thing that you will be if you don’t get those opioids moving in the next two days.”
“We…I mean; I will get it done.”
“When? When will you have it done?”
“In the next two days. I will have the products moved in the next two days to the black side of town.”
The smile of amusement returned to the gentleman’s face.
“Now, we handled that like civilized people, didn’t we?”
Ernest opened his mouth again.
“Please, I am sick of you opening up that dumpster of a mouth you have. Every time you gap that son of a bitch, it smells like homeless man piss. Just keep it closed.”
Ernest nodded in defeat; his eyes going back to the worn down carpeted floor.
“Please Ernest, I need for you to understand that if this isn’t going to work, I will be forced to go get the product himself.”
Ernest didn’t move, didn’t make eye contact. He just stayed stone still. “I will have it moved in the next two days.”
“Good.”
Turning on his shiny black dress shoes, the gentleman walked out without closing the door.
Thinking he was going to pass out, Ernest fell back into the chair that his brother was just sitting in. He had to think. There was no way in hell he was going to get a guy to move that much product in two nights. There was no way. The alternative was to have this slick bastard to take the product back, which was all tucked down in his basement with his son.
★★★★★★★★★★
I found myself back on the floor in the storage room once again, going through the criminal past of a psychopath. After being in lock up for a year and a half, Clay reemerged in December of 2012, where he was fingered in a hit and run incident. Clay had clipped the rear end of a Honda Civic late in the evening. Witnesses said that Clay wasn’t going over the speed limit, but hit the car in a Kroger parking lot and left the scene. Then Clay went in to hibernation for over a year, but by fall of 2014, he was involved in fight.
