Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Short Story: On the Fly, Run the Table (Part 2 of 3)
5 hours into the shift, after doing a walk through, organizing the work queue, loading a few trailers with a lift, he checked his voice messages. He normally heard back from a vendor or an end customer, either looking for some item number on the next shipment, or why wasn't the PO number properly filled by the order detailer. Mindless, but necessary. Instead, he received a voice message from a Ronald T. Carron, Esq. asking to talk to him about a legal matter.
Usually, that meant a creditor long since not paid or forgotten entirely. But Terrance didn't have any unusual bills, as far as he knew. Wendy. That could be the problem, he surmised.
He dialed up Mr. Carron, figuring he would be quite the gem of a lawyer. They all were. "Mr. Carron's office?" A perky office assistant answered.
"Yes, I'm Terrance Morrell. I receive a call from your office?"
"Oh yes, Mr. Carron's been trying to get a hold of you for the last few days. I'll transfer you."
Terrance waited a moment.
"Mr. Morrell. So glad I could get a hold of you. You were a little hard to find. But no matter."
Ron spoke quickly - like his training implied - but pleasantly Southern.
"What's wrong? Is there something I've...done?" Terrance responded.
"Only by birth. I am the executor to your late uncle Sal's will. And he's requested several of his family members to come back to Alabama for the reading and execution of the will's particulars."
"But Sal wasn't exactly well off. I didn't even know he'd died."
"Actually, Sal's estate is quite a bit different from what you may think. But his largess may or may not surprise you." Ron said.
"So what do I have to do?"
"Come to Montgomery and my office by Friday. And stay the weekend."
"I work late nights and I just started a few months ago." Terrance replied.
"Oh, I think you might like the outcome of this trip. And it would help me complete the wrap up of this estate."
"I'll get back to you by Wednesday. If I got to work out travel arrangements --"
"Oh, we got that covered. I'll send you the flight information by fax, if you don't mind."
"Is there anything else that I should be aware of?"
"Just be ready to stay the weekend, that's it."
"Why? Isn't it just a reading and distribution?"
"Well, I'm not at liberty to say, but it will require you to be present for the duration of weekend. Then you can go back to Cincinnati."
"It figures with Sal." Terrance said with a slight chagrin in his response.
"Oh, it most definitely does. It most definitely does."
"Thanks, I suppose."
"No problem, just doing my job. I need that fax number whenever you can have it."
"Sure. It's 888-555-4378."
And the conversation was ended shortly thereafter.
Terrance spent the remainder of the shift, and on into his sleep and drink time, wondering what Sal had in store for him.
It was not like Sal was a caring sort. He cared only for himself. And when did he acquire an estate? No one in the family ever acquired anything except jail time, debt, illegitimate children and divorces. Sal had hit a home run in that pursuit.
As the afternoon came nearly to a close, and the sunset was blasting through the window of the 2nd floor, a gentle knock at the door interrupted Terrance's mulling out the mystery of Sal's last days.
"It's me Terrance." Samantha was dressed in a polka dot sun dress with flats and a hoop hair holder.
Terrance opened up the door. "Hi Sammy." As they both smiled hesistantly, but friendly toward each other. "Come on in."
Terrance left the door slightly ajar, letting the rays of the sun to warm the room. He sat down at the typical table in all hotels.
"How was your day?" Samantha asked, sitting down across from Terrance.
"Interesting. Got a call to go to will reading from an uncle that barely had a dime and cared little about anyone. How 'bout you?"
"Really?? That's odd, but it sounds interesting. So you going back to Alabama?"
"Yes, for the weekend. That's the damnest thing: I have to stay for the weekend. Which is crap, since I need the money here." Terrance reflects with annoyance.
"Who knows, maybe Sal left you something." Samantha touches Terrance's hand. The warmth is immediate for both.
"I doubt it, he was a gloater. He didn't like Jerry, my father, much. But I get a free airline trip."
"Would you like some company?"
"What, you not working this weekend? There's a big convention, you know..."
Samantha hesistates, then responds, "Well, that's the thing -- I'm tired of it. It's just --"
"I understand. You don't have to go into it." Terrance squeezes her hand and she smiles.
"I need some time -- to get things straight -- and maybe a trip would help." Samantha suggests.
"Sure thing. I'll ask this lawyer to add a extra passenger, he seemed able to get things done."
"You sure it won't be a problem?" Samantha asks, knowing the answer.
"Sure. What could possibly go wrong at a will reading." Terrance unworried about the trip, the will or Wendy, his ex.
I'll tell you more when you tell me yours. ;)
Patience, grasshopper. You must use the force. Nothing MacGyver couldn't solve... My new bag: to make lives better through their health, their mindset. It's new, but we should always look for new. Take a gander there at Bringin' Gas & Dialin' 9: A Seven Score Addiction to the National Pastime. Writing is just about the only thing one can do to live on permanently - buildings will crumble, pictures can fade, memories blur before we know it, but words can remain visible, and understandable, long after we pass from this mortal coil. (That's why that Socrates guy still gets play!) So that's my story. Create your new story!