Dupree listened intently as Tomi told him of her education, time at the community college, her admiration for Josh Stanton, and her resentment of Carlsson. It was obvious that she was as pure as the snow falling outside the window. For a moment Dupree wondered if the law was the wrong place for a kid so innocent, naïve and sheltered. I wish Dara was sitting here, he thought. He decided to continue.
“I will need a receptionist slash secretary, slash research assistant, office manager, timekeeper, and all-around right hand. I’m not sure I can match what Kanaal paid you at first, but I am hoping I can do that in time.”
“Yes.”
“I haven’t finished. You haven’t heard the good part.” Dupree beamed.
“I can do all that stuff and more. I want to work, I want to learn. I like the idea of doing lots of things, that really excites me. I hate to not be doing something.”
“Well, I think…”
“I’m young, I have a good car, I’m strong, I have lots of energy. I am good at taking messages. Nobody will ever get through your door without getting through me first.” Tomi took a breath, and Dupree used it to get in a word.
“It also means I can work on your sexual harassment case. It will be a kind of benefit to working in a law firm. How’s that sound?” Dupree watched as big tears rolled down Tomi’s face. “Did I say something?”
“No, it’s just that I am so ashamed.”
“Of what? You, young lady, were a victim of a person with power who took advantage of being in charge to subject you to unwanted and disgusting advances and suggestions. We will have no more of that. I’m willing to fight if you are.”
“I was. I’m free of it now. It can’t continue unless,” Tomi wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, “unless you plan to do the same thing.” Her voice was soft but showed a steeliness that Dupree didn’t expect. “I almost didn’t come. I thought you were going to talk me out of suing them, or something. Even worse I was afraid you would make some sort of, what do you call it, pass at me, something bad. That’s why I am dressed like this for a job interview.” Tomi looked Dupree in the eyes and waited for a response.
“I must admit I did find the contrast to the last time I saw you striking. There is no dress code to get the job, so it didn’t worry me.”
“This is who I am. I wanted you to know if you offered me the job. To tell the truth, I wasn’t quite sure what to think. Not that there is anything wrong with this.” She paused. “These are my mom’s clothes. But the message is the same. I am a Christian, I have a strong set of morals and I won’t, don’t, go against them. My mother was worried about me working for a lawyer. She doesn’t hold them in much regard since my father’s death. She believes they are not committed to telling the truth. Are you committed to the truth, Mr. Dupree?”
“He better be.” Dara was standing just behind Tomi.
“My parents tried to raise a gentleman. That beautiful lady there is all the friend, lover, partner, and wife I can handle. I’m certainly not going to disappoint her with any behavior that isn’t pleasing to her or the God she’s introduced me to.” Dupree answered without the slightest hint of irony.
“Are you a Christian?”
“Yes, I have asked numerous complaints to be Lord of my life.” Dupree smiled gently. “But let’s just say I’m a work in progress.” Dupree looked up at Dara. “Tomi, I like your enthusiasm. I liked how you were willing to take on Kanaal. You’ve got spunk. I think we will make a great team.”
Dara put her hand on Dupree’s shoulder.
“You can assure your mother, that I too answer to a higher power, and with the help of Dara I’ve learned to grow more honest and committed to that truth than I ever was in my former incarnation.” Dupree scooted over and slapped the seat next to him. “Sit.”
“Actually, I came to take your order. Not yours, hers. You’re too predictable.”
“Oh, gee, um…” Tomi quickly flipped through the menu.
“You look like a hamburger and fries kind of girl to me. Water, and apple, no, berry pie with ice cream and a glass of milk?”
“Usually, that would be right with berry. Today, I think I’ll have what he’s having. I want to see what I’m dealing with.” Tomi raised her hand and high fived Dara.
“Oh, boy.” Dupree laughed and shook his head.
“I hope you intend to hire this young lady. I like her a lot.” Dara’s words were more a command than a question.
“I’m not sure if I can survive two such strong-willed women, but I would be crazy not to try. The job’s yours if you want it.”
“I meant it before when I said yes. I still do.” Tomi smiled widely. “Thank you.”
“Lunch is on me!” Dara said cheerfully.
“I like that!” Dupree replied.
“Can I start after lunch?” Tomi asked excitedly.
Dupree looked up at Dara and winked.
* * *
The windows of the high school cafeteria were so steamed up it was impossible to see out. Wide streams of water ran down the glass and puddled in front of the doors. The warmth of the cafeteria was like a welcome embrace after the chilly wind cut through everyone’s clothes no matter how many layers. Classrooms never quite get warm enough to take the chill away. One look around the room at the chapped cheeks and red noses were evidence of the fourth day of freezing temperatures.
“How can you drink a soda in weather like this?”
“Extra ice too!” Austin Tucker held up the cup in a mock salute.
The six boys sitting at the far end of the lunch table near the wall had been friends since grade school. The fifty minutes of lunch period was not only looked forward to but was a safe haven from peer pressure, trying to be cool to impress girls, boring lectures, and in-class busy work. The common denominator was their love for video games in winter, hunting, fishing, and all things outdoors in the summer.
Austin was the ringleader of the bunch. He was the tallest, and by the group’s standards was the best looking. He was the only one who had actually gone out on a real date. Being six months older than the nearest member of the group he already got his driver’s license. That put his cool factor several notches above the rest.
Danny was the runner up and tried hardest to match up to Austin’s witty remarks. Danny came from a broken home. He and his three siblings watched his mother load the family car and drive away, leaving them with a big cheese pizza in the middle of the kitchen table. His dad was at work, and as fate would have it he worked three hours overtime, arriving home shortly after eleven o’clock that night. Danny was six at the time. A year later Danny’s dad married a lady whose husband died. She didn’t have any children of her own and loved Danny and the other children. Within six months they all called her mom.
Jake was the rich kid of the group. His dad was a dentist, and although not technically rich, was far better off than the others. He wore better clothes, his dad drove a BMW, and they all went to Hawaii every Christmas. His twin sister was a cheerleader and the crush of all his friends. Invitations to Jake’s house were never turned down, for the outside chance Janna would be there. She dated a senior, and for the most part, ignored Jake’s friends.
Ryan was the only jock in the group. He played baseball. Not out of choice, but because his dad was the coach. His lack of interest and the constant riding from his father for him to excel in a sport he cared nothing about was a topic strictly off-limits in the group. Ryan loved to write. He wrote stories of mythical lands and great heroes, beautiful princesses in need of saving and a variety of creatures that would give Stephen King nightmares. Unlike a lot of authors his age, he was delighted to share his latest story with the other guys.
Felix was from Guatemala. Of the six boys, he was by far the poorest. His father owned a small landscaping business in a town where it was too wet to mow nine months out of the year. His mom was a maid at Budget Motel. The boys loved to go to Felix’s house. His mother was an amazing cook. Not wanting to take advantage,
the boys would bring a sack of cornmeal or flour, a chunk of venison from one of their father’s lucky hunting trips, or veggies from their mother’s abundant garden. They seemed to all know when it was their turn, and how to have Felix explain to his mom that it was extra. Truth be told it was usually lifted from the pantry or freezer.
Brandon was kind, overweight, game for anything, an awesome fisherman, and failing every one of his classes. He could make the group laugh with a lightning-fast quip, response, or really bad pun. Of the guys in the group, Brandon is the one to get bullied. Humor is a defense mechanism for him, but too often his buddies have to come to his rescue. Twice they’ve been suspended for beating up a bully. It took four of them, but they did it.
Thursdays and Fridays always seem to be the high energy days at the lunch table. Today was no different. Brandon cutting jokes, Jake fending off Austin’s requests for Janna’s cell phone number, and Felix trading a Guatemalan treat with Danny for a tuna sandwich out of his lunch bag, all with high volume, good-natured teasing.
Cutting through the din of the three hundred teens of period four lunch, Brandon felt his phone vibrate in his jeans pocket. He slipped it from his pocket like a thousand times before. But this time was different.
There was a message. He opened the message to find a picture of a naked man, with salt and pepper white hair on his chest and his arm around a naked, teenage boy. Their heads were cropped from the top of the picture. Almost as an involuntary response he clicked delete, but not before seeing the short message: More Later – Mr. Happy. He slipped his phone back in his pocket.
Brandon looked around at his friends at the table. Felix and Danny were eating and talking. Jake was holding up his phone and twisting it to and fro, teasing Austin with Janna’s number. Ryan sat dead still looking down at his lap and what Brandon assumed was his phone.
The frightened look on Ryan’s face was just this side of tears. His look went from terror to a ghastly white. Brandon thought his friend would throw up. Ryan looked up with a blank stare on his face. A moment later he looked at the members of his table. They all were oblivious to his gaze. Brandon looked down at his tray before Ryan got to him. He sat not breathing, afraid to look up for fear their eyes would meet. It was evident, he got the message too. The bell rang and Brandon left the table without a word. He didn’t look back, he just kept walking.
CHAPTER 5
“Hey, what is this?” Dupree called from the freezer on the back porch.
“What’s what?”
“This big wad of foil.” Dupree held it up for Dara to see from the kitchen.
“Oh, no! It is the top of our wedding cake! We were supposed to have it on our anniversary.”
“Which one?”
“The first one.” Dara grimaced.
“We only missed by a year and what three months?” Dupree teased.
“Where was it?”
“On the third shelf. Shoved back against the wall. A box with two bags of rice flour was in front of that. What is that for anyway?”
“I was going to figure out how to make some gluten-free bread and stuff.”
“When was that?” Dupree quizzed.
“Oh, hush.” Dara hesitated then sighed. “Four or five years ago.”
Dupree laughed and brought both items to the kitchen. “You know there is something to be said for throwing in the towel, or in this case throwing out the flour.” He set the box on the counter. The ball of foil shimmered from on top.
“What are you doing out there anyway?”
“Looking for a body.”
“Really?” Dara said flatly.
“I never opened it before. Do you know it is like a block of ice? When was the last time you defrosted it?”
“Never.”
“Then today’s the day.” Dupree went to the porch and pulled the freezer from the wall and unplugged it. “Why do you have it if you never use it?”
“It was the last thing Mitch bought me. I really have no use for it. He planned to fill it with venison. When he died I didn’t have the heart to get rid of it. The time has come. Clean it up and we’ll sell it.”
“You don’t have to.” Dupree softened.
“It’s alright. It needs to go. Will you take care of it for me?”
“Sure.” Dupree felt like he’d cast a shadow on the morning.
Sundays always went by too fast, and this one was no different. It wasn’t that Dupree didn’t like his work, he loved it. He just enjoyed being with Dara more. They got up early and went to the eight o’clock service at church. They rushed home to just lounge around on the couch reading the Sunday paper. For Dupree, the sense of belonging, caring, and most of all just being together, made him wish he could freeze these hours.
Since they married they pledged to take weekends off. At first, Dara found it the most difficult. She felt as if she was missing something. For the first month or so, she would make excuses just to go peek in at work. After all, The Quarter Moon Café was her baby. The people that filled the booths and stools at the counter were her extended family.
Slowly she let go of the trips downtown. Now she often goes through an entire day without even thinking of the Café. The time she spent with Dupree fulfilled the emptiness left by the death of her first husband, Mitch. For years it was the Quarter Moon that filled the emptiness of her loss. The relationships she built with the regulars gave her a sense of belonging and security, knowing there were people in White Owl who had her back.
As Dupree gathered towels, a pancake turner, and a big spaghetti pot full of hot water, Dara wondered where she would be without this kind man who so fully completed her life. She smiled watching the focus of his work. It was as if he was going into surgery. She wiped down the counter and thought of their time together.
The crinkled image of her face reflected in the crumpled foil on the cake was of a woman content. More than happy, she no longer ached with the emptiness her life had become. As the foil peeled away from the frostbitten, cracked frosting she laughed. “This is a lost cause.” she walked it to the garbage can next to the refrigerator.
As was their tradition, Sunday evenings were a time of a light meal, showers, and gentle lovemaking. This weekend was no different, as they drifted off to sleep, plans of the week ahead melded with the warm blanket of sleep.
* * *
Frankie Evans was a familiar sight in White Owl. He was kind of a legend, not in the heroic sense, but in the see-how-bad-things-can-turn-out kind of way. As a kid, he wore Spiderman pajamas everywhere. His mother let him. He wore them until they were threadbare. In junior high, he was a skater. He rode his skateboard up and down the sidewalks in a hoodie that read Skateboarding is Not a Crime. He hit high school with a full-on Goth/Emo persona; dyed black bangs on one side of his head that hung to his chin. He wore thick black eyeliner and black lipstick. The skin-tight jeans and huge black, lace-up boots he wore were right out of Edward Scissorhands. He smoked Clove cigarettes. The other kids hated him and he loved it.
By all accounts he was brilliant, but after all, don’t they say genius and madness walk the same tightrope? Frankie’s family life was a horror movie waiting to be filmed; alcoholic abusive father, manic depressive mother, a badly deformed and mentally deficient brother that was not allowed outside, and a grandfather that continually put his hand down the front of his trousers.
The family showed no visible means of income. The grandfather got an army disability check and Social Security benefits. He went years with undiagnosed PTSD from the Vietnam War. He never held a job since returning home in 1973. Frankie’s father was a belligerent drunk who, by town lore, beat up his last three employers. Now no one in town would give him the most menial task for fear of his violent rages. The mother worked as a maid in the motel out on the highway until a guest woke to find her going through his pants pockets in the middle of the night.
It was years since anyone knew of someone in the home working. Townsfolk often questioned where Frankie got the m
oney for his various changes in visual phases. Rumor was the family dealt in drugs and shoplifted merchandise. Talking to the strange young man was never even considered. So, they would just come up with wild theories on the Evans’ out on the corner of town.
After high school, Frankie would hitchhike to the Community College. This form of transportation proved to be too unreliable since townsfolk would never pick him up and commuters would only once. After half a semester he dropped out, but not before becoming White Owl’s first Hipster.
He could be seen around town in his plaid Bermuda shorts, white shirt and red bow-tie, and pork pie hat. He applied at Ecomm twice, and then at Kanaal Communications after the takeover. Sadly for Frankie, he possessed no computer skills, having never owned one. His only exposure to the internet was at the library at school. His short-term girlfriend Julie Meadows’ let him play games on her iPhone. Not enough experience for the kind of work the tech companies needed. He came just short of begging when he asked for a job in maintenance. There were no positions available there either. The woman in HR said she would call if anything he qualified for opened up, but she folded his application, and gently slipped it into the wastebasket as he left her office.
Ray Perlang was struggling to get a For Sale sign and its four-by-four post into the trunk of his car. As Frankie came up the sidewalk he could see the struggle and that Perlang was going about the task all wrong.
“Turn it around.”
“What?” Perlang grunted.
“You’re going the wrong way. Turn it around. Put the post in first and in the far corner of the trunk.” Frankie offered patiently.
Perlang stepped back and studied the situation.
“Look.” Frankie stepped forward and took the post, then the sign, and arranged them in the trunk of Perlang’s car and secured the lid with a bungee cord in the trunk. Without a word, he continued down the street.
Dupree's Resolve Page 4
