getting stuck in an
old Airstream trailer while the fire burned around him. Since he
was never wearing shoes, he suffered severe burns to the soles of
his feet. Once the firefighters finally got to him, he was almost
dead from smoke inhalation. It’s still something that bothers him
from time to time. When he moved in with my wife and I, he had
nightmares for a year.” He brought up another picture. “Here Joe is
as an adult. He just finished college, and he was being recognized
for his fund raising work for the volunteer fire department. It was
right after my wife passed, but I'm sure she was proud of him from
wherever she is.” Mr. Nelson said with a slight quaver in his
voice.
Sarah felt all of this information hitting
her like an avalanche. “Why are you showing me this?” She asked, as
a tear slid down her cheek.
“Because Joe is my son. My wife and I adopted
him after his mom died in that fire. We took him in, and tried to
do our best to keep him just as he was; as that happy, generous
little boy who never saw any fault in anybody.”
Sarah just stood there in silence as she
considered all the things she had done to this great guy.
“Why are you showing me this now? We've been
battling like cats and dogs for the last three weeks. How can I
compete against someone like this? I just thought he was another
shallow, vapid guy in a suit who likes material things.” She heaved
a shuddering sigh, as Mr. Nelson patted her on the leg.
“Because, you deserve to know the truth.” Mr.
Nelson said with elderly vigor. He tried to keep this out of the
public view, but when you're a local hero, things just keep piling
up.”
It was all Sarah could do to keep from
falling to the floor. “So, where do I fit in all of this?” She
finally asked. Mr. Nelson shrugged and smiled his genuine
smile.
“You're going to just keep doing what you're
doing, and put that little brat in his place. I still love him,
he's my son and I know the good that lies within him. I also know
that he's mad with power, and he needs to be taken down a notch or
two.” Mr. Nelson tossed the faded pictures back on top of the
filing cabinet. “Now how about we go drain that scotch bottle at
the club a little?”
Joe sat at his desk while Ernesto looked on
from his. The little office in Westwood almost never got any use,
but he felt the need to gather with his right hand man to go over
strategies.
“What about a gas of some kind; like nitrous
oxide? Ju know, to knock everyone out?” Ernesto offered with
excitement.
“Whats with you and the roofies?” Do I have
to stage an intervention or something?” Joe asked with weary
indifference.
“Well, I don't see ju coming up with any
gems.” Ernesto shot back with a scowl.
“Right. Whatever it will be...” Joe paused to
press his steepled fingers against his chin, “it'll have to be
big!”
While they both sat in silence, the clock
ticked incessantly on the wall.
Joe sat up in his chair. “I've got it! Does
your brother still have that big dump truck?”
Sarah was back at her desk later that night.
In the darkened little office, she placed her things in a file box.
She was not one to lose easily, but she didn't want to do the walk
of shame during daylight hours. She didn't know how to process the
information that Mr. Nelson had dropped in her lap. Even if she
knew how to sabotage his last sale, she didn't want to. Every time
she thought back to that little green-eyed boy, she got teary eyes.
The sweet man that she had seen over dinner at his place was not an
act, but it was the real Joe. When he wasn’t trying to be a
competitive jackass, he was a great guy. She was sure that working
for him wouldn't be too bad either.
Sarah hefted the large box onto her hip as
she struggled with the front door. While the alarm system counted
down, she shuffled outside to her waiting car. She dropped all of
her things when a tall figure jumped out of the bushes.
After suppressing a scream, she saw that
old Airstream trailer while the fire burned around him. Since he
was never wearing shoes, he suffered severe burns to the soles of
his feet. Once the firefighters finally got to him, he was almost
dead from smoke inhalation. It’s still something that bothers him
from time to time. When he moved in with my wife and I, he had
nightmares for a year.” He brought up another picture. “Here Joe is
as an adult. He just finished college, and he was being recognized
for his fund raising work for the volunteer fire department. It was
right after my wife passed, but I'm sure she was proud of him from
wherever she is.” Mr. Nelson said with a slight quaver in his
voice.
Sarah felt all of this information hitting
her like an avalanche. “Why are you showing me this?” She asked, as
a tear slid down her cheek.
“Because Joe is my son. My wife and I adopted
him after his mom died in that fire. We took him in, and tried to
do our best to keep him just as he was; as that happy, generous
little boy who never saw any fault in anybody.”
Sarah just stood there in silence as she
considered all the things she had done to this great guy.
“Why are you showing me this now? We've been
battling like cats and dogs for the last three weeks. How can I
compete against someone like this? I just thought he was another
shallow, vapid guy in a suit who likes material things.” She heaved
a shuddering sigh, as Mr. Nelson patted her on the leg.
“Because, you deserve to know the truth.” Mr.
Nelson said with elderly vigor. He tried to keep this out of the
public view, but when you're a local hero, things just keep piling
up.”
It was all Sarah could do to keep from
falling to the floor. “So, where do I fit in all of this?” She
finally asked. Mr. Nelson shrugged and smiled his genuine
smile.
“You're going to just keep doing what you're
doing, and put that little brat in his place. I still love him,
he's my son and I know the good that lies within him. I also know
that he's mad with power, and he needs to be taken down a notch or
two.” Mr. Nelson tossed the faded pictures back on top of the
filing cabinet. “Now how about we go drain that scotch bottle at
the club a little?”
Joe sat at his desk while Ernesto looked on
from his. The little office in Westwood almost never got any use,
but he felt the need to gather with his right hand man to go over
strategies.
“What about a gas of some kind; like nitrous
oxide? Ju know, to knock everyone out?” Ernesto offered with
excitement.
“Whats with you and the roofies?” Do I have
to stage an intervention or something?” Joe asked with weary
indifference.
“Well, I don't see ju coming up with any
gems.” Ernesto shot back with a scowl.
“Right. Whatever it will be...” Joe paused to
press his steepled fingers against his chin, “it'll have to be
big!”
While they both sat in silence, the clock
ticked incessantly on the wall.
Joe sat up in his chair. “I've got it! Does
your brother still have that big dump truck?”
Sarah was back at her desk later that night.
In the darkened little office, she placed her things in a file box.
She was not one to lose easily, but she didn't want to do the walk
of shame during daylight hours. She didn't know how to process the
information that Mr. Nelson had dropped in her lap. Even if she
knew how to sabotage his last sale, she didn't want to. Every time
she thought back to that little green-eyed boy, she got teary eyes.
The sweet man that she had seen over dinner at his place was not an
act, but it was the real Joe. When he wasn’t trying to be a
competitive jackass, he was a great guy. She was sure that working
for him wouldn't be too bad either.
Sarah hefted the large box onto her hip as
she struggled with the front door. While the alarm system counted
down, she shuffled outside to her waiting car. She dropped all of
her things when a tall figure jumped out of the bushes.
After suppressing a scream, she saw that
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