Arks of America

by D A Carey

  Kate’s friend from high school in Kentucky was also going to U. Chicago, which made the transition easier. During the visits up here and introductions to Malcolm, Kate had already made an impressive circle of friends. While Ellie was proud of Kate, it was a bit melancholy, knowing these new beginnings confirmed that a part of her life in Kentucky and with Vince was definitely over. She’d left her life, home, and friends in Kentucky behind to start anew here.

  Now it was only a matter of time before Kate moved out and on with her life and spent less time at home. It gave Ellie an insight into how Vince must be feeling. Ellie knew in her heart that the divorce was the right thing and she had to move on. Still, she could admit to herself that she cared for him. She just couldn’t live with him.

  Planning is Prepping

  “When there Is no vision, there is no hope.”

  - George Washington Carver

  << Dave >>

  Dave began drawing on the plastic-covered map and making notes on the adjacent whiteboard. He and Levi were alone in the large main room of the cabin on the side of a mountain on the edge of the South Park valley. Dave needed this time to collect and organize his thoughts in seclusion. Louis was the only other one who joined these sessions. Early in his career, Dave enjoyed these times alone and allowed no one else to join. He found that he now preferred the companionship and sounding board of Levi, and Louis’ loyalty and efficiency.

  In the early days, Dave used a very small cabin lower in the South Park valley he built himself on a small parcel of land. As much as he missed the cozy spot, it wasn’t practical anymore. Now they used the huge resort-style cabin that was built on the side of a mountain with a commanding view.

  As was his custom once a decision was made, it was full steam ahead. Dave preferred to get his thoughts in order here at the cabin before going back to meet with the suits in Denver. He already owned a large tract of land near the mountain on the edge of the valley that was enough to do what he needed.

  Purchase options on any adjacent land that might be coming available, he wrote on the whiteboard.

  “How do options help?” Levi asked.

  “Not much immediately. However, by paying the local owners a fee, it allows us first choice to purchase their land at a fair price if they do decide to sell. I like it because ethically it tells them I do want to purchase land in the area adjacent to what I already own on their timeframe with no pressure. I’m not trying to do anything underhanded. If they choose to sell, then I’d like first shot is all.”

  Research old abandoned mine ownership adjacent to our property and the lake. Purchase any that can be had, he added to the whiteboard.

  “Dave, won’t all these land purchases cause a stir in the valley?”

  “Yes,” Dave agreed with a snort, pausing to smile over his shoulder. “Part of the value of being the local eccentric billionaire is that people tend to shrug off things like this most of the time.”

  Dave quit writing and sat down. “I’ve been turning over a few ideas for how to structure this new company. I have some ideas about the land ownership I want to run by the attorneys at corporate. I’m not sure how to put it all in words yet. We need to settle on the best solution for how to title the land and set up the corporation and community bylaws fairly quickly.

  Chuckling, he mused, “For what I’m paying them and how many of them there are, if they can’t solve this, I should fire the whole passel of them.”

  He took a drink and stood back up to make more notes on the whiteboard. “Levi, you sure you don’t mind taking these notes? It’s not your job. I have a whole staff of eager interns who wonder why they aren’t allowed to do more of this. They’re chomping at the bit to spend more time on strategic things with the leadership team. As far as anyone knows, you’re only here to be my bodyguard. Later when this takes off, we’ll announce you as the head of security for the entire project.”

  “Well, boss, despite my outward appearance, I do have a college education, and my mother would be proud to see me putting it to use. Besides, it’s easier to keep you safe when it’s only me and you in the room. I have to admit that when you’re using me as a sounding board, I’m learning more. I like getting to see how your mind works.” Levi grinned. “Besides, you have no idea how many people would pay for this level of access to Dave Cavanaugh, the Richard Branson of the Rockies!”

  “Young man, why I oughta…” Dave threw a dry erase marker at him.

  After a snort, he turned right back to his work. He was like that. His mind was so nimble he could change gears from one topic to another in the blink of an eye and be totally absorbed in the next topic before you knew it. Levi understood that, as his mother was the same way.

  Dave made special instructions for the architects and planners as to how he wanted to build this village, or charter town, in such a way as to make it both secure and have the design blend in with the nature and beauty of this valley. It was important to make it as unobtrusive as possible.

  Levi continued taking notes, careful not to interrupt much when Dave was deep into the creative thought process. Dave was not rude or domineering like many men with his wealth, power, and position would be. He was kind and understanding, like you would expect of a favorite uncle. It was hard not to hold Dave in a little bit of awe or be disappointed in yourself if you derailed his thoughts. No one wanted to disappoint Dave Cavanaugh. He was the type of man who brought out the best in those around him.

  While Dave wasn’t curing cancer, he was coming up with some rather interesting and profitable ideas that could save a lot of lives and knowledge. His ideas had a simplicity to them that in retrospect left people to wonder why no one else had done it.

  Dave was interrupted, though, and not by Levi. His thoughts were interrupted by a discomfort pressing against his hip. “Levi, this thing is a pain. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to carrying a gun.”

  “I know you hate the necessity, boss. I hate it for you, but the world is changing, and it’s good for you to have this and know how to use it.”

  Levi had helped him choose from a few that he carried at different times to get used to. He had been given more than enough by friends once they noticed him carrying. The Coonan .357 compact fit snug on his hip in a soft, hand-tooled leather holster. Although he doubted anything would happen here in these mountains, he needed to get used to carrying it and make it a habit.

  “You’ll get used to it, boss.”

  “I hope so, and I hope not. Knowing I need it isn’t the same as liking it.”

  “I understand, but you have to stop thinking of it like a gun or a symbol of destruction. It’s merely a tool. Each tool is a good or evil as the person holding it,” Levi said earnestly.

  “I know you’re right,” Dave responded without much conviction.

  “Mr. Cavanaugh,” Levi only used his last name when he had something important to say, “as you’ve said yourself, times are changing. This country is not what it was fifty or a hundred years ago. Heck, you’re betting billions of your own and other people’s money on the fact that things are going downhill. I know you’ve said it probably won’t get bad in your lifetime, and possibly not in mine, but it will get bad sometime. There is one thing I know well, and perhaps on this one thing I know more than you. Do you know what that one thing is?”

  “Tell me.” Dave turned his full attention on Levi.

  “What I know is bad people will have guns no matter what. They will use them as a tool to plunder, rape, and kill. If good men like you don’t carry guns and impose their will in the name of justice, then who stands between you and those bad men?”

  “What about you, Levi? You and men like my nephew? You’re good men.”

  “No sir, you still don’t get it.” Levi’s face betrayed his frustration at not being able to explain himself the way he wanted. “Men like me are merely tools, a means to accomplish a goal. We’re no different than that gun on your hip. The difference between me and other men like me is that
I harbor no illusions about who or what I am. I don’t want to be part of evil, so I worked hard to be aligned with good people. I count myself lucky to work for you.”

  “And my nephew?”

  “He is a rare one,” Levi said with a smile that showed pride in his best friend. “Right now, he’s a tool like me. His only problem is that his conscience and mind work a lot harder on him. He keeps reliving what he’s done and been forced to do as a man and as a soldier. He can’t see or accept that the ruthless things he’s done are not his fault. He could no more walk away from a fight or refuse to defend someone weak or in need than I could stop breathing.”

  Dave chuckled. “That doesn’t sound so much different from the Levi I know, except for the brooding.”

  “Maybe not,” Levi acquiesced. “But what he does have is the ability to be good and noble on a higher level like you. That’s different and beyond me. That’s a nobility of spirit few men have. That’s why other men follow him. He doesn’t even know he has it buried in him. He would be angry or embarrassed if he heard me say it. Yet it’s still true. Even though he’s not the empire builder you are, he is a leader that men will lay down their lives for.”

  “Thank you, Levi. It does my heart good to hear you speak that way of my nephew. I also think you sell yourself short, although that’s a topic for another time. On another topic, I’ve wanted to ask about your family back in New York. Do you need to go home and help?”

  “No, they’re fine. I don’t know if I told you about my cousin who is one of New York’s finest. It was his partner that was shot in the incident covered in the news last week.”

  “That’s terrible. Was your cousin hurt?”

  “He’s fine. He was off that day for a family event so he’s carrying a lot of guilt right now, thinking he might have been able to help.”

  “I know there are riots in the city and crime rates are soaring. What did your family say about that?”

  “To them it’s more of a tragic chain of events that’s so wasteful and they can’t find a way out of. The riots and the police shootings prompted the chief of police to go back to two officers per car and change the patrol schedule to cover each other’s back better. That means the NYPD can be in fewer places at a time, giving the criminals and rioters more confidence to spread their crime spree and chaos.”

  “These things make me feel impotent,” Dave said, exasperated. “Don’t our leaders know that this genie will not be put back in the bottle as easy as it was let out?” Dave held up his hand. “You don’t have to answer; I’m just ranting. Did Louis tell you what happened to one of the women on his staff here in Denver the other day?”

  “Yes, thank God she wasn’t hurt badly.”

  “That’s true, yet I don’t know how much longer we can count on those small saving graces. Things always escalate bit by bit unless something drastic happens to change events. You’ve seen what’s going on in Denver and other cities. You’ve talked to your family in New York. What will happen next? Things always escalate.”

  ***

  While they waited for the chopper to take them back to Denver, Levi handed Dave a tablet with a satellite download of the intelligence assessment related to the civil unrest in Denver:

  “City, state, and federal officials appear to be making ground in the negotiations with Denver sanitation union officials. While the strike is not over, the fact that officials are meeting and talking is a good sign. In other news, the investigation into the water and sewage outages still has not determined if they are failures of age or sabotage. Considering the timing and widespread impacts, most experts agree that sabotage is the more likely cause.

  “The impact to the city in relation to the federal response to the riots and strikes has emboldened unions in cities like San Francisco, Chicago, and New York to threaten similar strikes. Those unions are getting a lot of push from members who also belong to radical domestic organizations that favor a more drastic or terroristic-type approach to domestic change…”

  << Liz >>

  Sitting at the makeup stand getting ready for another Hollywood gala to promote or support something or other, Liz had already lost track of what this one was for. The events could be so tedious. Her wealth and success were still somewhat new to her. The home she now lived in was more opulent than anything she lived in growing up. The huge master bedroom and dressing area alone was more like an extravagant hotel than her home.

  “Carol,” Liz called into the other room. “What’s this thing tonight all about anyway? I know you told me. I think sometimes I tune out the things I don’t want to do. I’m sorry.”

  “Liz!” Carol chided. “It’s only the biggest event of the season. It’s an award ceremony that raises money to protect endangered species in addition to celebrating achievement in entertainment.”

  “I like that.” Liz nodded. “What endangered species are they protecting and where?”

  “I don’t think that’s important,” Carol said. “The important part is that the red carpet photos will be in all the major magazines and on all television networks. It’s a wonderful chance for you to be seen at your best, dazzling for the cameras.”

  Liz was working hard to stifle a giggle, “Don’t they have photos of me looking simply my best at all the previous awards ceremonies? Can’t they just rerun those and we could stay home and eat ice cream and watch it on TV?”

  “Honestly, Liz!” Carol said in exasperation. “This is important. You have to keep your public views and internet searches high to command the best roles and contracts. This is a perfect event for that.”

  “I suppose,” Liz reluctantly admitted. “Still, I actually do care about the endangered species. Doesn’t anyone else care about them?” Liz giggled.

  “No, not in this town, Liz,” Carol said matter-of-factly. “It’s career suicide not to have a cause and prove your acting chops by pushing that agenda very publicly and sincerely. However, it’s naïve and silly to actually care behind closed doors. I know it sounds disingenuous, but that’s how the game is played.”

  Liz was a beautiful actress who was rapidly becoming known worldwide. She had burst onto the scene with a few movies that were very successful and appealed to a wide range of audiences. She followed up with several more artistic movies that demonstrated a range of acting skills becoming uncommon in Hollywood and even more rare in one so young and attractive. With a tall, athletic physique that still showed all the womanly curves, the auburn hair, and eyes that hovered between green and gray blue, Liz Pendleton was taking the movie industry by a storm.

  Liz to her fans and friends, Elizabeth to her mother and grandmother, could not help but reflect on her roots and how much things had changed. Growing up in a small town in Kentucky, she had always been the one to try something different. She could be the tomboy at one moment, the girl that would swim with the boys in the river in cutoff jeans and a tee shirt, or she could be the one playing the princess in the school play and driving the boys crazy. Liz preferred the “realness” of being the boys’ friends to the “girly” games that many girls played. She liked to sneak a few beers and dive from the heavy rope that swung out over the river or jump from the rocks of the quarry.

  As fun and real as all that was, nothing could compare to standing on the stage and getting a part just right. When she managed that, she could feel the tuning fork of connection thrum in her chest. It was as if she, the character, and the audience were humming in tune to a reality that was unique only to this group and moment in time. After experiencing that one time, she would crave that feeling for the rest of her life. On the occasions when Liz got it perfect, she could see the people in the first few rows beyond the lights shed a tear in one scene or laugh in another. Then they would stand and applaud when it was over. It was a feeling in her chest she couldn’t put into words and didn’t try. She craved it that way a drug addict craved a fix.

  Occasionally, Liz needed some time away to travel and mentally regroup. When she decided she needed
to recharge, she just did it and insisted that her staff help support that need. She didn’t let people hold her back or run her life. There had been times she tried to push through the fatigue. When she tried that, she found the acting was dead on the inside. That tuning fork didn’t thrum, and she couldn’t do it the way she needed to. Although she enjoyed the wealth, she was in this for those moments of perfect harmony between her, the audience, and the role. Liz didn’t want to kill the ability to make that happen, so she jealously protected her need to recharge.

  In the end, she was her own person and a special talent that Hollywood hadn’t seen lately. Liz could have the parts she wanted. She could make larger and larger audiences cry and laugh and feel all ranges of emotions before they finally stood and applauded. She could share that tuning fork moment on a national and international scope. That was what she craved.

  None of that stopped Liz from being obstinate. When she was younger, people thought she should be more ladylike. She’d been caught on a few occasions drinking and driving trucks with some of the bad boys. Just when they expected she was headed for trouble and her family was ready to intervene, she would surprise them by spending time with her grandmother, listening to the old stories and learning to garden, can, or quilt. She didn’t do those things because people wanted or expected it. She did them because she wanted to, and it was what gave her direction and balance.