Death in HR – Part VII

(Vi Lee, ambitious and driven HR manager for Hi-Tech Industries has disappeared. Her grieving mother and grandmother have hired Sam Reynolds, PI, to find her.)

                                                                  ###

Two days later Sam was back in Dr. Jones’s office with the spectacular view of the City.

The good doctor had a PhD in Art History and was an administrator at the De Young Museum in San Francisco. Sam had previously done a little work for her getting back a valuable painting, stolen from the museum. In so doing, he saved her reputation and basically, her job. Although her employers had paid Sam a nice fee, she still felt indebted to him.

“So, you know these people how?”

Ariel Jones was up making a coffee for Sam at her little coffee side bar. This time she put the brew in a heavy paper cup instead of the tiny china cups she usually used.

She handed it over to him.

“Patrons of the arts. Mostly things Asian. The grandmother is loaded, and the mother is not doing too badly either. The grandparents ran a popular restaurant in North Beach, ‘Frisco, for many years. Golden Tiger, became popular with some of the movie people over there. That’s where they got their money.”

“Hum.” Sam sipped his very good coffee.

“And the girl, ah, young woman. You’ve met her?”

“Once, she came to a gallery opening with the other two. A special Chinese exhibit.”

“What did you think?”

“Snotty as fucking hell.”

Sam raised his eyebrows.

“Sorry,” Ariel told him. “Just, she seemed like she had some kind of chip on her shoulder, out to prove herself kind of thing.”

“Not like you then, Dr. Jones?”

Ariel Jones tossed her head. “Not like me at all. I am simply being myself.” She gave him an icy smile and sipped some tea. 

“Right,” Sam tamped down his grey mustache with one knuckle. He was still trying to get a handle on these modern women. Wasn’t sure he was ever going to  understand them.

“So, we’re going over to see grandma now? Right, and the mother will be there?”

Ariel nodded.

“Okay, then,” Sam got up to put his cup in the trash. “Guess time’s a wasting.”

Ariel Jones drove them over in a surprisingly conservative silver Lexus.

“This your car?” Sam looked perplexed.

“What did you expect? A Rolls?”

He shrugged. They made the trip in twenty minutes as Ariel deftly maneuvered   the car through city streets.

Inside the expensive apartment complex, Sam was advised to leave his boots at the door. A previous visitor to Asian countries, he was familiar with the tradition.

They all sat on the plush sofas and chairs in the expansive living room of the elder Mrs. Lee.

“And nothing, you’ve heard nothing at all?”

Vivian’s mother sadly shook her head. “Not one word. The police said if it was kidnapping, there would be a ransom.”

Sam had out his little notebook and was making notes in pencil.

“Suspects?”

“They talked to that Australian boyfriend of hers many times, but nothing.”

The older Mrs. Lee sat and nodded with fat, pudgy hands across her belly.

“She was very upset about him,” the old woman finally spoke. “She came to my apartment and was crying. Told her him no good for her. She not happy.”

“Crying you say?” Sam lifted his pencil a moment. His eyebrows went up. “What was she crying about?”

“Young man break up with her. Don’t want to be boyfriend anymore. Told her for the best. He too young.”

“He broke up with her? And she was upset?”

“Very upset. But, I told her for the best. She not kill herself. She too strong.” The old woman nodded her head, lips pressed together tightly.

Sam looked at Dr. Jones. She gave him a ‘I don’t know’ look.

He noticed a little Buddhist shrine in one corner of the apartment. He got up to go look at it. The Buddha was gold and seated next to a water wheel that rotated with water. There was a little receptacle for offerings and a place for a candle.

“So,” Sam was looking at the old lady now, “your family is Buddhist?” The woman nodded. “Was Vivian a practicing Buddhist?”

A little sob erupted from the mother.

The old lady shook her head. “She no longer believe.”

“Hum.” Sam picked up his teacup. “Oh, look, the water is cold. Mrs. Lee, could I trouble you . . ..?”

Mrs. Lee, the younger, hanky to her mouth, grabbed the tea kettle and went to the kitchen. Sam arched his eyebrows at Ariel and nodded toward the kitchen. Catching the hint, Ariel got up, following the mother.

“Can I help with anything?” He could hear her voice.

Sam turned back to the grandmother. “Mrs. Lee is there something you’d like to tell me?”

The old lady glanced at the kitchen and back at him, then leaned forward.

“She doesn’t like me to say. She doesn’t like it.”

Sam smiled at her. “Like what?”

The old gal smiled. “Magical creatures.” Sam’s eyebrows shot up.

“I see them in my dreams, many, many times. Not a good sign.”

“What did you see, Ma’am?”

“It was the fox, he tricky that one, and my granddaughter together. Not good. Not good sign. Then, the tea. . ..”

“The tea?”

“I read her tea leaves last day she come see me. Bad signs, bad future. She very angry at me. I not make it up,” she looked at him. Sam nodded reassurance. “I just read what I saw. Not good, not good.”

She sighed heavily.

“Something else?” Sam looked at her.

“Things better when my son,” she pointed at a picture of a man on a side table, “was alive. We go to visit the monks many times. Things happier then.” Sadly, she stared at the picture.

At this point Ariel and Mrs. Lee were back with more hot tea and white powdery Korean cookies. Sam found himself eating more than he intended. Soon, it was time to leave.

On the way back to the museum, Ariel kept trying to pick Sam’s brain, but he wasn’t giving up much.

“So, what did you find out?” she insisted.

“Well,” he paused, “what looks to be a very smart, headstrong young woman. Very determined to break with her past and become 110% Americanized. Your impression?”

Ariel nodded. “I would say so too.”

“Also, a few weird items from the grandmother I’m not sure I even want to discuss right now.” He shut his mouth and leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes.

Ariel grimaced with impatience but had to be content with that for now.

Continued in VIII

Read more of Courtney’s writing in:
https://sites.google.com/view/webbywritercom/page-5?authuser=0

I was recently very surprised in a conversation with a young female friend. My friend is gay and happily involved with another gay woman. The surprise was when she advised she had no ‘straight’ male friends. None. Why? “I don’t trust them as far as I can throw them.” Wow. Some statement. A hundred years ago, both of these ladies would probably be married already.

As social norms shift and pressures on women relax somewhat, more and more women (gay and not) are choosing to not walk down the aisle. What this means for the guys, of course, is a shrinking marriageable market. The consequences of all this are yet to be seen.

#NoMarriage movement sees South Korean women reject Government pressures to marry and have kids

By Yasmin Jeffery

Posted Wed 31 Jul 2019 at 2:46pmWednesday 31 Jul 2019 at 2:46pm, updated Wed 31 Jul 2019 at 3:39pmWednesday 31 Jul 2019 at 3:39pm

Moensan is 26, unmarried, childless and plans to keep it that way.(Supplied: Moensan)

Help keep family & friends informed by sharing this article

abc.net.au/news/nomarriage-movement-south-korea-women-reject-marriage-kids/11367488

“Aren’t you lonely?” This is a question student Moensan is used to being asked.

Key points:

• Declining marriage rates in South Korea are lowering the birth rate, leaving the country with an ageing society
• The Government has been criticised for its efforts to push women towards dating, marriage and childbirth
• The YouTubers behind the #NoMarriage movement say officials need to listen to the reasons women are deciding not to marry

The 26-year-old, who lives in a provincial city in South Korea, is unmarried and childless — and plans to keep it that way.

“There are many things I want to do in life that you can’t do if you get married,” she said.

Of course, being firm on her decision not to get married doesn’t mean she never feels lonely.

But, Moensan said, the occasional feeling “doesn’t mean I need to go on a date or get married. I just want person-to-person association. A relationship with someone I can talk to, empathise with, and truly understand”.

“I’m lonely sometimes, but I don’t need a man!”

Moensan is far from alone. South Korea — a country where dating, marriage and having children have long been entrenched ideals — has experienced a significant decrease in marriage rates.

And according to data collated by Statistics Korea, it is only getting worse.

Last year, 257,600 marriages were registered, compared to 305,500 in 2014, prompting the Government to make various attempts to get more women to walk down the aisle.

This is where Seoul YouTubers Jung Se-young and Baeck Ha-na come in.

The unmarried, child-free activists are leading the call to normalise the decisions of Korean women like Moensan not to get married or have children with their channel.

Both told the ABC they had felt a pressure to get married before reaching a certain age.

But, after being introduced to feminism, they said they started to realise how Korean society pushed women towards marriage.

“In my case, my regional background led to my decision,” Ms Jung said.

“I was born in Gyeongsang Province, which is considered the most conservative region of Korea.

Baeck Ha-na, left, and Jung Se-young are trying to normalise remaining single.(Supplied: Jung Se-young and Baeck Ha-na)

“I saw with my own eyes how married women are treated and discriminated against, so I decided marriage does not help women at all.”

Over the past five months, the duo has amassed more than 24,000 subscribers to their YouTube channel SOLOdarity, where they discuss government intervention and share what life is like for a “bi-hon” — someone who chooses not to marry or have children.

Ms Baeck is also part of the network Elite without Marriage, I am Going Forward (EMIF), through which members meet to talk about marriage, children, and life without either.

There are many reasons people choose to be childfree. Readers share their thoughts on overpopulation, furbabies and freedom.

And now, thanks to a nifty hashtag encapsulating their movement, #NoMarriage, they are making headlines.

The aim of the #NoMarriage movement is to push the Government to react and to spark a change in expectations in South Korea, where “women are considered to be subject to family ownership, and women who say they don’t want to marry become a target of attack,” Ms Baeck told the ABC.

“It has to change and we will make it change.”

Death in HR – Part VI    Courrtney Webb

(Vi Lee, HR Manager at Hi Tech Industries, has disappeared.)

Police were still doing inquiries but, a body had never been found and they seemed to be out of leads. The mother and grandmother, however, were still heavily grieving and mourning her loss. Neither had given up hope of finding their girl.

                                                            ######

It was a sunny Saturday morning. Sam Reynolds, PI, was at his kitchen table sipping on a mug of fresh coffee. He loved this time of year. The sunshine seemed brighter and the air more clear. Fresh breezes pushed out the sluggish, heavy air of a long summer. Neighbors were busy raking leaves; pumpkins and Jack O’Lanterns were appearing at doorways.

Sam was reviewing the latest football results when his phone rang. He glanced at the clock. 8 am was a little early for Kristie to call. She was usually a late riser on her days off. He answered it.

“Sam Reynolds.”

“Yes, Dr. Jones, of course I remember you.” Who could forget that

 dish? he wondered.

“Yes, this is a good time. Business? Let me get some paper. Just a minute.”

Sam got up and rummaged in his desk drawer and pulled out a pad and pencil.

“I’m listening.” There was conversation on the phone for several minutes.

“But certainly, the police . . ..”

“I’m not sure what I can do.”

“Good friend of yours. . . patron of the museum. I see.”

“Well . . ..”

“No, I have time. It’s just . . ..”

“Next week?” He sighed and looked at the wall calendar.

“No, I’m free. Okay, if you say so. I will drive up. If it will make her feel better. But once again, I am not sure what else I can do.”

“Okay, sure. See you on Wednesday.” Sam sighed again hung up. He gave a big stretch then got up to refill his coffee cup.

“Women, always getting into trouble,” he said out loud and went to finish his paper.

Later that day, he was having lunch with Kristie and told her about the phone call. 

“Called her a sort of Devil-Wears-Predator kind of person.” He bit into his sandwich.

Kristie laughed. “It’s Devil Wears Prada, Sam, not Predator. Do you ever watch movies at home?” She giggled again and glanced sideways at him.

He munched, unconcerned. “Of course, I watch movies. You know that. John Wayne was a fine actor and I have seen Saving Private Ryan several times.” He sipped his coke.

“Oh, yeah, right,” Kristie replied. “War, war and then more war. Real movies.”

“Damn straight.”

He munched some more and did his own sideway glancing. Kristie was his go to for all things having to do with fashion and females.

“I don’t exactly know what that means. The Devil-Wears whatever.”

“It’s a famous movie with Meryl Streep . . ..”

He looked at her quizzically.

“Oh, never mind who was in it. Basically, the boss lady, you get that part right, Boss Lady?”

He nodded agreeably.

“The Boss Lady is a super bitch who is very selfish, self-centered and runs everyone around her ragged. She is very demanding and everyone including her own family ends up hating her. This making sense?”

He nodded again, finishing his sandwich.

“In the end, she just burns through one person after another and ends up pretty much alone and lonely. Was that what Dr. Jones was talking about?”

Sam wiped his mouth with a paper napkin.

“Think so. I wasn’t sure. But now you explain it, yes, it’s starting to make sense.”

“So, this woman was killed up in San Francisco?”

“Disappeared, more like, and no body found. The police and everyone else think she’s dead. She disappeared one morning and not a word since. If it was kidnapping, they would have heard something by now. . . but. . . nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Weird,” Kristie offered.

“I know, that’s what they are all saying. Very weird. However, since she was apparently not well liked, they mostly suspect someone did her.”

“Hum,” his girlfriend replied. “You driving up there?”

“Wednesday. Got an appointment at Dr. Jones’ office. Then we will go meet with the mother and grandmother.”

“Who’s paying?”

“Grandmother. Apparently, she’s the one with the dough and also might be the last one to see the girl.”

“How old is this girl?’

“Thirty something.”

“Sam, that is not a girl.”

“Well, to me, sweetheart. She is to me.” He gave her dark blonde curls a playful tug.

“You want company?”

“You’re working. Anyway, how could the credit union get by without you darlin’? They would have to close the doors.”

Kristie shook her head. “Why do I always feel like it’s my job to keep an eye on you, Sam Reynolds?”

He gave her an innocence look with his big blues. “I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about Ma’am.” They both laughed. Kristie twinkled at Sam. At sixty-six years of age, he was still in great shape due to  long hours at the gym. However, she remembered too well the times he had been in tight spots. She knew he often depended on his friends Smith and Wesson to bail him out.

Read more of Courtney’s writing in:
https://sites.google.com/view/webbywritercom/page-5?authuser=0

Death in HR – Part V

(Vi Lee, HR Manager at Hi-Tech Industries has disappeared.)

Robin, admin assistant to Vi Lee, slumped back into her desk chair.

There are days when the corporate salary just isn’t good enough. Christ, why didn’t I become a kindergarten teacher like my sister? Screw the money.

Scowling, she jabbed the buttons of the phone again. She had the number memorized and was desperate to reach Vi and figure out what was going on.

                                                      #

By the afternoon, the department was buzzing with rumors. Vi Lee, ‘the Dragon Queen,’ had not come to work and no one knew where she was. At this point, Jeremy picked up the personnel file for Vi. He called her himself several times. Getting no answer, he called the head of the company and requested a meeting.

In the big guy’s office, the two men reviewed the file.

“What do you think happened?” The CEO asked Bright.

“Well, sir, I believe she had a fight with her boyfriend. Maybe they broke up? She has been very on edge recently and there may be some. . ..” He gestured with his hand tipping an imaginary bottle into his mouth.

“Oh. . .,” Dan Cole breathed out, a note of understanding.

Bright nodded and shrugged.

Cole scratched his chin and gazed out. Then, “We don’t do anything for 24 hours. Give her a chance to show up. Don’t want to cry wolf and that kind of thing.  After that, Jeremy, it will be your job to call the mother. If the woman knows nothing, tell her to call the police.”

Jeremy frowned at this pronouncement but said nothing.  

“And, shit,” Cole, spit out. “Just when we need those figures to wrap up the year end. How could she do this to us? If she’s off on some damn fling with another boy-toy, I will personally wring her skinny chink neck myself.”

Jeremy grimaced at the racial slur. Backing out of the office, he promised to call the second he heard something.

The next day, Jeremy Bright was standing in front of Vi’s apartment door knocking.  He had coaxed a neighbor to buzz him in. He stood there several minutes. No answer. An old lady across the hall finally peeked out.

Feeling foolish he said “Looking for Vivian Lee. We work together.”

The old woman looked quizzical. “Well, she goes out early every morning in her gym clothes. Don’t know where she goes. I see her when I walk my dog.”

“Have you seen her today or yesterday?”

The old woman thought. “Don’t know. Don’t think so.”

“Thanks, ma’am. The manager?”

“First floor.”

Cursing, Jeremy took the elevator back to the first floor and went to the security desk. He pulled out his driver’s license and a business card and began explaining to a very reluctant guard how he needed to get into Ms. Lee’s apartment.

After several minutes and several phone calls; the senior security guard slowly got a set of keys and went back up with Jeremy. The guard knocked several times, then, unlocking the door, he went in with Jeremy following.

“Miss Lee, Miss Lee, security.” There was no answer.

Both men cautiously entered and went from room to room. Nothing. Shafts of sunlight played through the louvered blinds. Jeremy could see dust motes hanging silently in the air.

“Well,” the older man said, “she doesn’t look to be here.” He gave Jeremy a helpless look.

“It would appear,” Jeremy answered tartly. “Thanks,” he said bruskly and stomped back to his car.

Back at the office, Jeremy pulled out Vi’s personnel file again. He located the phone number of the mother.

“Fuck!” he said loudly to the room and made the phone call. 

The next morning, they had still heard nothing.  A hysterical Mrs. Lee rushed into their office in tears. The secretary led her to Mr. Bright’s office.

Mrs. Lee finally made the phone to the police and promptly collapsed on Jeremy’s silk sofa, choking with emotion. 

“Jesus, I hope she doesn’t ruin that silk finish,” he thought grimly to himself.

Instead of voicing his thoughts, he offered the distraught woman a glass of water. Carefully helping her up off the sofa, he had his girl help her out of his office and out of the building, sobbing the whole way.

“Great, now I get to do that damn report. Shit, and I was going to get out and do some hiking this weekend. Maybe some fishing. Crap. I’ll kill that bitch,” he mumbled to himself.

Plopping down at his desk, he stared out at the brilliant view of the San Francisco harbor and the deep blue of the ocean. Why didn’t I become a science teacher like my brother? ‘Cause you hated science and were never very good at it, he answered his own question. Bitterly he got to work.

                                                      ######

Police detectives were assigned to the case. Two officers came to the office and began asking questions. It doesn’t take them long to figure out what the staff thought of Ms. Lee. 

Far away, in a secluded Buddhist monastery, a ragged figure stumbled onto their property and collapsed. The monks rushed over, picked up the body and took it to their infirmary. The person was unconscious and could not answer questions. They lit candles and started saying prayers.

                                                    ########            

Two months later, things at Hi-Tech had almost returned to normal. Robin, the assistant, in a surprise promotion, moved into Vi’s place. The business as usual approach dominated the atmosphere. It was almost as though Vi Lee had never worked there. 

Police were still doing inquiries but, a body had never been found and they seemed to be out of leads. The mother and grandmother, however, were still heavily grieving and mourning her loss. Neither had given up hope of finding their girl.

Continued in VI

Read more of Courtney’s writing in:
https://sites.google.com/view/webbywritercom/page-5?authuser=0

October 15, 20219:57 AM MSTLast Updated 21 days ago

World

China’s Xi will not attend COP26 in person, UK PM Johnson told -The Times

Reuters

LONDON, Oct 15 (Reuters) – Chinese President Xi Jinping will not attend the COP26 climate summit in person, British Prime Minister Boris Johnson has been told, The Times newspaper reported.

Britain, which hosts the 26th United Nations Climate Change Conference of the Parties, or COP26, in Glasgow on Oct. 31-Nov 12, is seeking to get big power support for a more radical plan to tackle climate change.

The Times said British organisers fear that Xi’s decision to stay away could be a prelude to China refusing to set new climate change goals amid an energy crunch. (end quote)

The Russian president did not attend either.

In the years before I worked as a teacher, I worked as an insurance claims adjuster. A large group of claims we handled concerned some contaminated toothpaste that was manufactured in China. More research into the trouble revealed that the factory manager had been cutting corners to make more profit for himself and the factory.

In response, members of the Chinese government came to the factory, grabbed the manager, took him out back and hung him from a tree.

Wow! Well, that is not usually how we do things in the US. That said, it is probably safe to say there is little pressure/effect we can bring to bear on the Chinese. However, what can we do? As already reported in this blog, a majority of US manufacturing, especially with clothes and shoes has been moved to China and other locations.

China’s current green gas emissions are 27% of the world’s emissions followed by 11% in the US.

If every person who buys one pair of shoes marked ‘Made in China’ writes one letter to the manufacturer (American) about how well you do or do not like the shoes. Add, it’s too bad they are made in China, the largest producer of green gas emissions. At the rate things are going, our children and grandchildren will have no geographical place to live or jobs to support themselves due to extreme weather caused by global warming.

We can’t change China but we can put pressure American businesses that are cutting costs and leaving us all out to hang.

cw

Death in HR – Part IV

                                                            ####

(Vi – HR Manager at High Tech has broken up with her boyfriend, is fighting with everyone at work and drinking more than usual. Her life is about to change.)

Later, that day, Vi took off early and told Robin she had a doctor’s appointment. She really had an appointment with the gym. Needed to work off some steam.

Vivian was restless, and her gym workout still wasn’t enough. She decided to go to Golden Gate park to walk it out.

Fuming about the remarks from her grandmother, she didn’t notice the sun was setting. The path was darker when she saw what looked to be a small red fox dart across the path.

She stopped. Was that a fox? In Golden Gate park? Am I seeing things? Maybe someone’s dog that got loose. Did they bite?

She seemed to remember something about them being biters. Shaken but not completely frightened, she decided to turn around and go back the way she came. Back to the parking lot and lights.

Walking back, a little breeze picked up, her head jerked when she heard a soft cackling sound behind her. She jerked around. No one was there.

“Hello?” Nothing.

She picked up her pace and started to run. There was that sound again, louder now.

Vi started running full out, sweating. Thank God, she had been going to the gym on a regular basis and wasn’t out of breath.

The parking lot was ahead, and she sprinted toward it. The cackling sound got softer behind her, but she could still hear it. She dove at her car and pulled the key out of her fanny pack. Dropping it, she almost sobbed.

Snatching the key up, she jammed it into the lock, and jerked the door open.

She sped out of the lot just as the attendant was closing up his guard shack.

“I think I saw a fox back there,” she spat out.

He gazed at her blankly.

“I said a fox,” she shouted at him tersely. “Do you know what a fox is, you idiot?”

“Yes, ma’am I do,” he was finally nodding his head up and down. “But, fox? There haven’t been any foxes in this area for years and years. You sure it wasn’t a dog, ma’am?”

“Of course, I’m sure. Do I look blind?” she screamed. Finally, she pushed the button and rolled the window back up. Speeding away she thought, moron! Waste of time. But in her heart of hearts, she wasn’t so sure.

Vi sped home, made herself a double martini and downed it in two gulps. She closed all the shades on the windows and sat on her sofa. She pulled a big comforter around her shoulders and sat, shivering. 

At work the next day, she parked in the underground lot as usual and came up to the front door. The old bum was poking through the trash can again.

She walked up to him and got close to his face. His reek washed over her. She stood her ground.

“You’re not supposed to be doing that. This is private property.”

“Just doing my bit for ecology, ma’am.” He laughed a little and kept poking.

She got a little closer this time. “Get out!” she screamed in his ear.

He grabbed his ear and looking frightened, scurried away, dragging his bag of cans with him.

The security guard saw the tail-end of this encounter and hurried to open the door for her and hand her a paper. She ignored him and the paper and walked straight to the elevators, turning her back to him.

He straightened his tie nervously.

Upstairs, Robin was waiting with her coffee. Vi grabbed it without comment and went into her office. She bent over, pulled a small bottle of vodka from her purse and put it in her bottom drawer. Closing the drawer carefully, she sat up and looked to see if anyone was watching. 

Picking up the Starbuck’s, she took a sip and gagged. Coming out of her office, she plunked the coffee back on Robin’s desk.

“It’s regular milk, not soy. Can’t you do anything right!”

She turned around and went back to her office, slamming the door.

Shaking, Robin pulled a ten-dollar bill out of her purse. She put a sticky on outside of her cubicle ‘Back in five minutes,’ and went downstairs to the mail room.

She grabbed one of the mail clerks and handed him the ten.

“You know where the Starbuck’s is, on the corner?”

He nodded, confused.

“Get over there right now and get a regular coffee with soy milk and get back here. You got it, soy milk, not regular.”

The kid nodded nervously at her.

“Go!”

He ran out the door.

                                                            #####

Avoiding the park now, Vi took to running in the early morning hours. The top of an aqueduct reservoir was close to her apartment and she liked going there. There was no one there in the morning. Good, I hate talking to people anyway.  The path was covered with a loose, fine gravel which usually didn’t bother Vi in her expensive Nike trainers.

One morning, when she had done her mile and a half, she was bending over to catch her breath. The summer mornings in the Bay area were still cool and little breezes played in the air.

Damn these fucking headaches!  She thought savagely to herself. Four Tylenols and orange juice and it wasn’t any better. She had a mother of a headache, plus, she couldn’t shake the feeling someone was following her. The feeling had followed her the entire run.

She heard a growling sound and jerked her head around. That same red fox was behind her. It looked bigger. She screamed. Before she could turn and run, it pounced at her and went through her legs. Its long fuzzy tail wrapped around her ankles.

Screaming again, she tottered and lost her balance. Tipping over, she fell down the cement side of the reservoir. There was a thunk sound when her head hit the cement followed by a crunching sound as the cell phone in her pants pocket was crushed as she rolled. The fall was onto the side away from the street; her body hidden from passersby.

Later that day, when Vi was not at her desk promptly at 7:30 am, her administrative assistant began asking discrete questions around the office. Wouldn’t do to have the boss think she was being gossiped about. Would be worth her job. Getting a negative response to all the inquiries, Robin went back to her desk with a fresh cup of coffee and kept glancing at the clock. Still, no Vi.

At 9:30 am, Robin carefully picked up the receiver of her desk phone and called to her boss’s cell phone.

“Hello, Vi. This is Robin. Um. Not sure if you remembered or not, but you have a 10:00 meeting. Just wanted to remind you.” She hung up the phone quickly, her palms sweating.

At 10 am promptly, Robin went into the conference room and found Jeremy Bright, one of the corporation’s other HR bosses. She whispered in his ear.

“Not here? Well, where the hell is she? We have an important meeting!” He glared at her like it was all her fault. Robin shrank back.

“I’ve called her several times, sir. There’s been no answer.”

“Well, Jesus. Keep calling!” He waved a dismissive hand and Robin tucked her head and scurried out of the room.

She slumped back into her desk chair.

There are days when the corporate salary just isn’t good enough. Christ, why didn’t I become a kindergarten teacher like my sister? Screw the money.

Scowling, she jabbed the buttons of the phone again. She had the number memorized and was desperate to reach Vi and figure out what was going on.

Read more of Courtney’s writing in:
https://sites.google.com/view/webbywritercom/page-5?authuser=0

.

(Vi – HR Manager at Hi-Tech Industries has just gotten dumped by her boyfriend of two years. She’s not taking it well.)

The two young guys fumbled for the keys and finally grabbed a set. The younger guy set off at a trot to go get the car. Vi waited, fuming, arms folded across her chest.

The young man pulled up with the car and she jumped in just as Stanley was coming out the door.

“Vi . . ..”

She hit the accelerator and sped out of the parking lot.

Hot, angry tears poured down her face making it difficult to drive. She was speeding through traffic and ignoring the honks from other drivers. Her car seemed to know the way. She was going to Oma’s home. Her grandmother’s place.

Although Vi rejected many aspects of Eastern culture, like using chopsticks, she still liked to visit her old grandmother. She loved a hot bowl of bim-bim bap soup or the special spicy octopus soup Oma sometimes made.

While she loved the food and the atmosphere, she did get tired of Oma’s nagging about no husband.

Vi rang the bell at the front door next to all the names.

After a minute or two, an old gravelly voice said “Yes?”

“Oma, it’s Vivian.”

“Vivian? Let me push the button.”

The buzzer rang and Vi pushed her way into the apartment complex.

She sat for forty minutes crying her eyes out and Oma listened quietly.

“Let me get you some soup.”

Vi had about three bites of Kim-bap guk but couldn’t eat anymore. She stared down into the dark green leaves floating at the bottom of the round ceramic bowl. They reminded her of the past.

“No more. I got no appetite.”

“Sweetheart, I told you a long time ago he too young for you. He not ready for marriage. Not for a long while.”

Vi waved it away; her head down.

“Are you going to go back to work today?”

“No, I can’t. I’ll just call work and say I’m sick.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Why don’t you lie down on the sofa and take a rest? I watch TV in my bedroom.”

Vi let her grandmother nestle her into the sofa with a large blanket placed on top. She made a quick phone call to Robin to tell her she wouldn’t be back, then, promptly went to sleep.

When she woke up her grandmother was puttering around in the kitchen.

“I make us some tea.”

Oma brought out the tea service and they both drank the hot liquid. The amber liquid smelled faintly of flowers. Vi was calmer.

 “Hum, I know,” Oma brightened, “I’ll read your tea leaves.”

“Oh, grandma, not now,” Vi held her head with both hands. She had a terrible headache.

Oma sorted the tea leaves from Vi’s cup and stared at them.

“Hum.”

“What is it for Christ sake? Don’t do that and then not say anything.”

“These readings are not so good. Strange things. I don’t know. I don’t like what I see. It is . . . what is the English word, ominous. Yes, that is it. Ominous, I don’t like it.”

Vi leapt to her feet. This was all she needed. Bad tea leaves. Damn it to hell!  Frightened, she knocked the cup out of Oma’s hand and stormed out of the apartment.

She turned to leave.

“And I never want to read tea leaves again!” The door slammed behind her.

Saddened, Oma carefully picked up the pieces of the now broken Ceylon green cup and put them in the trash. She went over to a little shrine of Buddha and placed some broken cookies in the offering tray. Lighting one small candle she said a silent prayer for her grand-daughter. Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.

Then she went and turned on the TV and sat back to watch her favorite Korean soap opera.

Vi sped away from her grandmother’s apartment and was making a turn when she slammed on the brakes. What looked like a big red dog with a bushy tail was calmly walking across the street and she just missed him. Is that a fox? She thought to herself. She could almost swear he looked at her, grinning.

“Jesus, I am losing my mind,” she said to the air and hit the accelerator.

Back home again, she made herself a double martini and sat down to look at old pictures of herself with Stanley and cry.

                                                  ####

The next day, back at work, Robin told her Jeremy had been by the previous day.   

“Um, Ms. Lee, I gave him the printout that was in your printer. He was very anxious to get working on the report.”

“Jesus,” Vi screamed, “I’m gone one afternoon, and the place falls apart. Christ, I’ll do it. Get out of here and for God’s sake will you get that look off your face?”

Robin blushed a furious red color and backed out of the office. She didn’t trust her voice over the phone, so she walked over to Jeremy’s office.

She leaned in the door. “She’s back and working on the report.”

“Oh, good. Then, I’ll just go over . . .. “

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. She is in a rare mood. In fact, I’m even thinking about going out for lunch.”

“Wow, that bad huh. Well, want company?”

Robin let a little smile slip out.

“No, thanks, Jeremy. I think you have other plans.” She nodded to the picture of his fiancée on his desk.

“Oh, that. Well, yes.”

She nodded and left.

After storming around for two hours and pounding the keys of her computer, Vi ripped the report out of the printer. She stomped over the Jeremy’s office.

“Here it is,” she threw it on his desk. “And, don’t be snooping around my office when I’m gone. I know what you’re up to.”

“Touchy, touchy, Vi. Thing with the boyfriend not go too well? You seem a little upset.”

“Fuck you, Jeremy.  What would your little heiress Caroline ever do if she knew about us, huh? Might put the damper on the old wedding bells, huh?”

Jeremy’s face colored an ugly shade of red.

“You keep Caroline out of this, you bitch. You have a few secrets yourself.”

“Yeah, like what?” she spat.

“Like a certain relationship with a certain CEO of this fine company.”

She got up close to his face.

“You keep your comments to yourself, you little bastard or I might do a relocation on your ass.” She turned to go then turned back. “Unless, I kill you instead.”

“If I don’t do it first, sweetheart. If I don’t do it first.”

She turned and stomped out of his office. Robin was gone when she got back.

“Fine.” She slammed the door to her office and closed the blinds. She needed a nap.

Continued Part IV

Read more of Courtney’s writing in:
https://sites.google.com/view/webbywritercom/page-5?authuser=0

.

“I am sorry, Mr. Lovell. The figures are in. Your supervisor has been very diligent in keeping records. Your results have been consistently falling behind for the last year. Not a day, not a month but an entire year!” She held both hands out expansively. “What did you expect us to do, nothing? You have been talked to about this.” 

She crossed her slim legs and rocked a bit in her leather swivel chair. 

The big man hung his head with a guilty look. 

“It’s true my hands aren’t what they used to be. Not as fast and so forth. A bit of arthritis you see.” He looked up at her for a little sympathy. “And then, the foreman is having me train all the new guys and it slows me down more and affects my productivity.”

“That would be, of course, only what we would expect from the Senior employee on the line. That you would be willing to train newer employees,” she replied, her black eyes glittering at him. 

“Well, of course, of course. I try to do what I can. But then the company put in that new digital computer analyzer and when I needed help with that, no one would help me. Why, one young guy just laughed at me and said an old man like me couldn’t be expected to understand it! Plain disrespectful.”

Vi tilted her head to one side and kept shaking it. 

“We have tried, Mr. Lovell, we have tried.”

Lovell looked close to tears. 

“If you let me go now, I get reduced pension and none of the medical benefit package that was promised. My wife has cancer, Ms. Lee and every little bit counts.”

“Aren’t you entitled to Social Security and Medicare pretty soon Mr. Lovell?

“Well, yes, we are. But that doesn’t cover much and her treatments are expensive!”

“Look, Mr. Lovell,” Vi was glancing at the clock, she had a lunch date, “I will personally look into it and do everything possible. You know better than I do what a bear that CEO is.” She laughed and he laughed.

“Don’t I ever.”

She stood up. “We’ll be in touch, Mr. Lovell.” She started walking to her door and he followed.  

Like an old circus bear, she mused to herself. 

“Thank you, Ms. Lee. Thank you very much. My wife and I, we appreciate all your help.”

She smiled warmly and gave him a little pat on the shoulder. He finally left. 

“Jesus,” she mumbled to herself, “bloody hearts and flowers. Thought he would never shut up!” 

She grabbed her bag and bolted to the door. Her boyfriend of two years, Stanley, had called out of the blue and wanted to do lunch. His treat. Wow. Maybe he was going to pop the big question.

“Robin, lunch,” she flung the remark over her shoulder as she scooted to the elevator. “Might be a little late coming back.” 

Robin opened her mouth to say that she had forgotten her lunch that day and needed to go out and get a sandwich. She shut it instead. The deli on the corner would deliver. Just a slight fee for the service. What the hell, it’s just money, right? She thought bitterly as she picked up the phone to place her order.

Just as she was replacing the receiver, Jeremy Bright, the other HR manager, came walking through with a sheaf of papers in his hand. 

“Where’s Vi?” he asked without ceremony.

“Lunch,” Robin replied. 

“Shit, we need those figures on that Talent report, ASAP.” He stared out into space a moment. “You don’t know where they are do you?” Jeremy leaned his lanky 6’ 2” frame over the little partition in front of Robin’s desk. He gazed down at her a long moment. She blushed. 

Jeremy was an extremely attractive, married- well almost-married-man. Dark hair and blue eyes, he had been sticky fly paper for many women in the company. She didn’t want to become another. 

“I . . . I will look on her desk, Sir. I am almost certain she was working on the numbers this morning. Let me get back to you on that.” Head down, she was speaking to her desk. 

Jeremy rolled his papers into a tube. 

“Yeah, right. Do that, Robin. Fast as possible, ‘kay?”

 He tapped the paper tube against the partition and turned to go back to his office. Jeremy was striding back to his office and remembered the brief affair he had once with Vivian when she was new. 

I used to think she was cute, with her sassy black eyes and black hair. No makeup to speak of, very different from my usual blonde co-eds. She was cute then. Now, he let out an involuntary shiver. She’s hard, cold and I don’t trust her as far as I can throw her. Good thing she still holds a candle for me, hoping we’ll get back together. Geeze, I hope Caroline never finds out. 

Little did Jeremy know that Caroline, his fiancée, had known about the affair for a very long time. Ever since a company party at Christmas one year when Vi had made it her business to tell her all about it.

                                                            #

Vivian screeched into the parking lot at the Jardinière restaurant and slammed on the brakes, making the valet jump. She got out and threw the keys at him. 

“Back in an hour,” she barked. 

She whizzed into the ladies’ room first. She had a pee. In the mirror, she checked to see that her very red lipstick was in place. Both hands smoothed down the double-knit dress. Little cap sleeves showed off the definition she had been getting at the gym with the new trainer. The shiny black bob was cut to perfection with no hair out of place. She wanted this day to be perfect. 

Although Stanley was younger than she was, twenty-eight to her thirty-six, they had been dating steadily for two years. She had definitely felt that something was coming. She was ready to say yes. A hulky, good looking Australian, Stanley was over here making his debut into commercials and hopefully, TV and movies one day. Vi had successfully connected him with a few of the right people and with those green eyes and blonde hair, he was off. 

Stanley was waiting for her at their table and stood when she showed up and graciously pulled out the chair for her. 

Ever the gentleman, Vi thought to herself. Not like these American slugs I have had to deal with. 

“I ordered you a Chablis, your favorite,” Stanley smiled at her. A dark blond curl fell forward as he leaned toward her.

Oh, I love him so much. We will have beautiful children, she thought.

“Aren’t you having a beer? Your favorite?” 

“Naw, got a shoot right after this and got to be on me toes you know. Directors!” He grinned and perfect teeth showed in a tan, handsome face.

They both laughed a little. Vi sensed a bit of tension in the air as she was looking at the menu. 

The waitress came over and Vi ordered her usual Chinese Chicken salad with cashews. 

“Stanley, you’re not eating. What’s the matter, my love?”

Stanley smiled briefly and looked down at the table and started twirling a fork. Long lashed. Rushed his cheeks.

God, I just hate it when he does that. A most annoying habit.

Vi laid a hand over his hand, to reassure him, of course, but mostly to make him stop the twirling thing. 

“What is it, Stan? You can tell me.” She smiled her warmest smile. 

“Vi . . . Vi . . .”

“Yes?”

“I can’t go out with you anymore.” Finally, the words were out, and he looked up at her, pleading in his bright blue eyes. 

She pulled her hand back from his like she had been burned. What? She couldn’t be hearing this. Her head started to swim. 

“. . . told you at the beginning this wasn’t serious for me. I thought we agreed to that. And, now . . . feel like you are wanting more and more from me. . .  not ready for marriage. . . focused on my career. . .”

All Vi could hear was blah, blah, blah. She couldn’t focus. The waitress brought her salad and it sat on the table, untouched. He was still talking, she couldn’t listen to another word. 

“Immigration,” she spat out. 

“What?”

“Immigration. I can tell those people in immigration that your documents are faked. There is no uncle in upstate New York. It’s all faked, he’s just some Aussie buddy helping you out. You’ll lose your work visa.” Her eyes glinted maliciously. 

Stanley looked at her blankly. His enormous muscles strained through the thin cotton shirt. 

‘Vi, look, I know you’re upset. But, really, you wouldn’t do that.” He pleaded like a little kid.

“Upset, upset!” she laughed. “I have wasted two years of my life on you. Set you up in the business, got you contacts, and this, this is how you repay me!” She stabbed the tablecloth with her fork. 

The waitress came back and stood hovering to the side. 

“Not now!” Vi screamed at her. People from other tables turned to look. 

“Vi,” Stanley put his big hands out. “I’m sorry. But, you’re making a scene.”

“Scene. Scene!” she screeched at him. “You’ll be making a scene when you see what I do to you!” She practically knocked the chair over backwards in her hurry to stand up. 

“You better rethink this thing, Stan. Like a marriage, a ring, pre-nups and two point five kids. Or, think about your next conversation with ICE.”

He stared her blankly. 

 She grabbed her purse. “You bastard. You absolute bastard!”

Stanley put his head down and Vi stormed out of the restaurant. Flinging open the front door, she stomped over to the valet desk.

“Red Miata.”

“Sorry, Ma’am?”

“Miata! Red. Can you speak English?”

The two young guys fumbled for the keys and finally grabbed a set. The younger guy set off at a trot to go get the car. Vi waited, fuming, arms folded across her chest. 

The young man pulled up with the car and she jumped in just as Stanley was coming out the door. 

Continued to Part III

Read more of Courtney’s writing in:
https://sites.google.com/view/webbywritercom/page-5?authuser=0

Courtney Webb                                                                                                                                                

                                                       Monday morning, 7:30 am, Vivian Lee got out of her red Mazda convertible.   After parking in the underground parking lot, she decided to walk up to the front door of the building, stretch her legs and pick up a newspaper. 

Late summer, the San Francisco morning was still a little chilly. There was a bit of fog, but the day promised to be sunny. Maybe even hot. A raggedy homeless man was picking through the trash cans in front of the building. 

Vi, as she liked to call herself, pushed through the glass and chrome door of the building. Her black hair with its modern, geometrical cut swung back and forth at her shoulders. A Chinese-red double-knit dress snugged every curve. She dropped her black Gucci handbag on the marble tile floor at the front counter and grabbed a San Francisco Tribune. 

“Phil, I thought we were going to do something about that scavenging that keeps going on outside.”

“Sorry, Miss?” Phil sounded confused. He stood up from his padded chair and leaned toward the client.

Vi jerked her head toward the glass doors. “That bum is back.”

“Oh, right miss. I’ll see what I can do.”

Her black almond eyes narrowed. “See that you do. Brings the tone of the place down. We don’t need that with these real estate prices, do we?” She gave him a fake smile and stuffed the paper in her bag. She turned on her black Jimmy Choo stilettos and clipped, clipped across the floor. The straight black hair swished. Tall and skinny, Vi glowed with healthy skin and good health. Pushing the button to the 11^th floor, she tapped her toe in an irritated fashion, waiting for the elevator. 

It whooshed quietly open. She stepped in without a single backward glance at the security guard. 

Phil sighed. God, I hope that woman doesn’t get me fired. I need this job. He adjusted his tie, straightened his jacket and checked his gloves were in place. He checked that the little red Phil badge was pinned correctly to the pocket of the brown worsted uniform. Time to go out and talk to that homeless man again.

“Bob, you back again?”

“Hey man, this strip has the best cans and bottles anywhere. I get some great recycle stuff here. Doing my bit for the ecology, you know.”

Phil stared at the bedraggled figure. The man was dirty and wearing old, worn out woolen clothes he probably got at Salvation Army. He wondered how old the guy was. He wouldn’t be surprised if they were the same age. There but for the grace of God, go I. Phil had heard that many times at recovery meetings. He could have  been this guy. He very nearly had been. 

“Yeah, I know. But your bag is full anyway. Here’s a fiver.” He pulled a bill out of his wallet. “That and what you got in the bag will get you a good breakfast.”

“Not in this neighborhood, it won’t,” Bob cocked a little bird blue eye at the guard.

“We’re not talking this neighborhood, Bob. Come on, take it. Otherwise, I’ll have to call the cops. We don’t want that.”

“Boss lady mad?” the bum asked with surprising acuity. 

Phil nodded his head. 

“Got you man. Those women can be bad.” He emphasized the last word as he leaned over and snatched the five-dollar bill out of Phil’s hand. He stuffed it in a pocket. Slowly tying up his bag of cans and bottles, he did a little salute and started his shuffle down the street. “Be seeing you guy, don’t let the turkeys get you down.” 

Phil watched as the man moved away and was eventually lost to view. He had won this round. But gosh, he couldn’t keep doing this, handing out money this way.  The wife was complaining as it was. Turning, Phil went back into the building, hoping against hope that was the worst drama of the day. 

On the eleventh floor, the elevator doors slid open to reveal the huge silver letters of Hi-Tech Industries, Inc. 

Vi turned left and quickly got to her office and threw down her purse. The bold letters of Vivian Lee, Human Resources Manager, were printed in black letters on the door. She turned around and walked to the cubicle of Robin, her administrative assistant. 

“Robin, darling, did you get my Starbuck’s like I asked, regular blend with soy milk?” She gave a chilly little smile to her twenties something assistant.

“Yes, Ms. Lee. Twelve ounces of Dramago Dragon like you asked, with soy milk.”

She handed over the paper cup. 

“And the cranberry scone?”

“Oh, right, I forgot. Right here.” Robin reached down and pulled the little package up and handed that over too. 

“Robin, you are such a jewel! You know I just can’t bear that morning crowd at Starbucks. Too much!” Vi grabbed the items and went back into her office closing the door behind her. 

You can’t stand it, Robin thought bitterly. How do you think I feel having to get up an hour early to get to work and go stand in that horrible line just ‘cause you can’t be bothered? She glanced at the clock.It was ten to eight. She had a whole ten minutes to herself before she officially started for the morning. 

Robin sighed and glanced at the MBA – Human Resources diploma hanging in a little plaque above her desk. Since she was in a cube, the only one who could see it was her. But, still, it was a reminder that maybe she wouldn’t always be someone’s gofer. 

Sighing again, she went to get some free coffee in the lounge. What with the cost of apartments in the City, she had to watch every penny. 

There was a small acrylic plaque on Vi’s desk too. It also showed a little MBA degree in Human Resources. However, hers said ‘With Highest Honors”, Chicago University. 

At thirty-six, Vi was the youngest Human Resource Manager Hi-Tech had ever had. With the MBA gripped tightly in her hand and utilizing every toe-hold her minority status granted her; she had clawed her way right up to the top. Once there, she liked the view just fine.  

Vi’s grandmother had migrated here during the Korean war.  Helen, Vi’s mother, a small child then, grew up and spent her entire life in San Francisco. Vi could speak some Korean, but not well.  She was also much taller than either her mother and certainly, her grandmother. 

Helen prided herself on her daughter’s successes and attributed it all to the vitamins regime she was on while pregnant. She couldn’t wait for Vi to do the same with her own child.  

After the coffee and scone were gone, Vi seriously got down to reviewing the figures in the Talent Management file. The report was due at month-end. 

Wiping the crumbs from her fingers with an old embroidered silk handkerchief, she reviewed the figures. She had personally made sure of the retirement of several long-term employees just before their twenty-year anniversaries. Two of the three were fighting early retirement now with their lawyers. She laughed. The only ones that ever won in these battles were the lawyers. Regardless of how selfless they presented themselves to be with their clients; they were in it for the money.  

Vi’s morning got interrupted by an unwelcome visitor. A big, white-haired machinist had actually had the nerve to come up to her office to speak to her personally. 

She led the man into her office and they sat down. He wanted to talk about his termination notice. 

“Ms. Lee, you can’t do this. The company can’t do this. I’ve been a loyal employee these last twenty years.” The big man held a cloth hat in his hands and kept twisting it. 

“I am sorry, Mr. Lovell. The figures are in. Your supervisor has been very diligent in keeping records. Your results have been consistently falling behind for the last year. Not a day, not a month but an entire year!” She held both hands out expansively. “What did you expect us to do, nothing? You have been talked to about this.” 

She crossed her slim legs and rocked a bit in her leather swivel chair. 

Continued Part II

Read more of Courtney’s writing in:
https://sites.google.com/view/webbywritercom/page-5?authuser=0

Samuel Takes a Trip – Part V – Conclusion

“Hum,” Jeremy looked thoughtful. “That might give us enough time. Now get your dumb tiger and let’s take a walk.” Jeremy scribbled a note to his mom to stick on the fridge. Eagerly Samuel jumped up and grabbed his tiger. He stuffed it into his backpack and the two boys slipped out the back door.

                                                 #
Over the next few hours, the boys took turns practicing with the tiger and trying to transport various items like the hardball and the mitt from place to place. They discovered that the tiger only responded to Samuel but that he could pull Jeremy along with him if they were touching. Samuel had to clearly visualize where they were going to go and pop! They were there. The tiger was not as sophisticated as the portal created by their Uncle Al. The one he was using to transport garbage in the Pacific Ocean.

Tired but satisfied with their results, the two boys got home in time to help set the table for dinner.

“Where have you been?” Alice Beans asked them with a slight frown.

“I left you a note, Mom. On the fridge, said we were at the park.”

Alice stepped over the notepad on the refrigerator. “So, you did,” she nodded. “Please go wash your hands first and then help me.”

Jeremy and Samuel scooted into their bedroom, dropped their backpacks. Samuel carefully placed the tiger back in the bedside drawer and closed it. The two did a knuckle bump and headed to wash up.

Later, as they were turning in, Samuel turned to his brother. “Jer, when do you want to do it?”

“Do what, Samuel?” Jeremy was perplexed.

“Go get Alex.”

“What!”

“Yeah, go get Alex. That was what we were practicing for, right?” Samuel asked, screwing his face up.

“Well, I guess so.” Jeremy settled back into his twin bed and pulled up the covers. “I just didn’t know you wanted to do it so soon. I mean…Jeeze.”

“Ah, Jeremy,” Samuel whined.

“Come one, let me think on it a little, will you?” Jeremy’s muffled voice came from under his pillow followed by a snore.

Samuel gave a little sigh. He pulled open the drawer where the tiger lay and stroked its side. “Night ‘ol thing,” he whispered and soon, he too was asleep.

Things were to unfold rapidly that would change their minds.

                                                 #

The following day, Jeremy and Samuel rode their bikes home from school as usual and walked into the kitchen to find Jane sitting at the kitchen table. She was being comforted by their mother and once again was crying. The boys tiptoed past and went put their backpacks down. Reversing direction, they both came back to get drinks out of the fridge and stopped, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“…and they are going to move him and won’t tell us where. The State Department won’t agree to their demands. I don’t know what….” more sobbing.

“Jane, I am sure they are doing everything…”

“They are doing nothing!” Jane exclaimed. “They don’t care a bit. I heard one man call him a liberal loony.”

Alice Beans looked shocked.

“He did, he did. I heard him.” Jane’s head was down and her shoulders shook with emotion.

Jeremy sipped his Gatorade and jerked his head at Samuel. Samuel followed him out of the kitchen and back into their room.

“Well, I guess we are going to have to do this thing,” Jeremy said with some resignation.

“What does that mean, ‘they are going to move him’? Samuel asked.

“It means they are moving him from that prison that he has been in, the one in the photograph.”

“Oh,” Samuel said his eyes getting big.

“And, if I get this right, to use your little tiger, you have to be able to see the location in your head, pretty much.”

“Yeah,” Samuel said, “that’s right.”

“So, in short, they move him to someplace else, no photo, we don’t know where he is and you won’t be able to see the new place in your head.”

“Ah,” Samuel said, understanding.

“So, tonight or nothing right?”

Samuel nodded and they did another knuckle bump.

That evening Samuel and Jeremy both turned in early. “To be ready for soccer practice tomorrow,” Jeremy told their parents with a little finger wave. Alice and David nodded and went back to watching their TV show.

They went into their room and got ready for bed but left their street clothes on. Jeremy turned off the bedroom light. In about an hour, Dad came by and opened the door to check on them, then closed the door. They both jumped up.

They grabbed backpacks that already had water, snacks and sweaters inside. Each boy stuffed pillows under the blankets to look like bodies. Jeremy got the tiger out of the drawer. Samuel had the newspaper article and stared at it hard. Jeremy held onto Samuel’s backpack strap and Samuel said “Take me to Alex.”

There was a whirling, sucking sound and both boys could feel themselves spinning. It lasted a few moments and they landed hard on concrete flooring. They staggered up. The area was dark and felt cool and almost damp, like something underground. The floor and walls were dark green cement, peeling in places. There were old halogen lights placed every few feet that flickered dimly. Distant sounds of conversation could be heard. Samuel had the tiger tightly held in one hand. Jeremy began to creep toward the sound and motioned Samuel to follow.

The conversations they heard were coming from jail cells around the corner from where they landed. There were dozens of cells with men in each. The men talked to each other in Arabic.

Samuel felt panic. How were they going to know which was which?  His mind raced.

They hung back and just listened.

Then they heard “How many times do I have to ask you butt heads for water? I’m thirsty here!”

Jeremy turned to Samuel and smiled. They nodded to each other. Jeremy peeked around the corner. There was a guard at the far cell, pouring some water into a little bowl the man held out. “Alex,” he mouthed to Samuel.

Looking again, Jeremy saw the guard leave. He motioned to Samuel. They crept around the corner and then ran together toward the last cell.

“Alex, Alex,” they both whispered at the same time.

An incredibly dirty Alex Smithers turned toward them. “Jeremy, Samuel? What the hell? How did you…?” The men in the other cells started to yell at them. 

Jeremy grabbed Samuel’s wrist with the tiger and said “Grab the tiger.”

“What? I don’t understand…” Alex was stuttering.

There were sounds of boots running toward them.

Samuel looked over his shoulder. “Jeremy, they’re coming.”

Jeremy took a quick look back and blanched. He looked forward “Grab the tiger.”

“What…?”

“Grab the tiger!” Jeremy screamed. Alex reached out and grabbed hold of the tiger. Samuel pressed his eyes together tightly just as a bullet whizzed past his ear.

There was the sucking sound and spinning feeling and the boys landed on white linoleum. It was early evening and they were in Uncle Al’s laboratory.

Uncle Al’s assistant, James, was sitting at a lab table staring at them.

“Jeremy, Samuel….what? And who’s that?” the young man looked stunned.

“James, great!” Jeremy tugged on Alex’s dirty jacket and pulled him over the mystified lab assistant.

“Where did you…?” James was still staring at them.

“James, this is Alex. Alex this is James.” The two young men nodded to each other. “James, he will tell you all about it. The only thing is,” Jeremy whispered in James’ ear, “this has to be all Uncle Al’s doing. Not us. Kay?”

James was open mouthed but slowly nodded up and down.

“Alright then. We got to get home before…” he looked at Samuel. “You know.”

Samuel nodded. He held the tiger out, Jeremy grabbed the tail and Samuel pressed his eyes together and imagined a house in the suburbs and two twin beds.

                                                 #

A week later, Samuel and Jeremy were out in the front drive of their house. The garage door was closed and they were practicing a little pick-up with the baseball hoop. As the orange ball did a rat-ta-tat on the cement, Alex Smithers casually strolled down the street and into their drive.

“Can I watch?”

“Alex!” Samuel ran over and gave him a hug. “You’re back!”

“I am and in one piece. Thanks guys. Don’t know what you did or how you did it…”

Jeremy passed the baseball over to Alex. “Our little secret Alex, ‘kay?”

“Okay by me. And, for the record,” Alex made a basket. “What I did was pretty stupid. Scared my mother half to death.”

Samuel and Jeremy exchanged glances.

“How ‘bout this, Alex,” Jeremy grabbed the ball, “maybe you don’t do it again.”

“You are on buddy!” Alex gave them a lopsided grin and ran for the ball.

The End

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