Locomotive to the Past, George Schultz [snow like ashes series txt] 📗

The following morning—at 8:15AM—“Jimmy Root” burst into the WXXD offices, atop The Lee Plaza Hotel! He was not surprised to find that Brooks Garback had not yet arrived. What was unexpected, however, was the presence, of devoted Marjorie Cullenbine—the receptionist.

The woman had always put in a tidy day. She was, usually, still at her desk—late in the evening, when Our Boy signed off. At first, he’d always wondered about that. Still, to find her “up and running”—so early, in the morning—was a mild shocker. It just shouldn’t have been.

“I’ve got to talk to Mister Garback,” he said—rather breathlessly—to the woman.

“Fine, Jason. He should be in… in, oh, about an hour. Maybe an hour-and-a-half, I’m sure he’ll be glad to…”

“NO! Listen! I’ve got to talk to him… right now! It’s an… it’s a real… it’s an emergency! A real one! Please, Miss Cullenbine! I’ve simply got to!”

That was all it took. Immediately, the woman picked up the phone, and—from memory—quickly, and efficiently, dialed the president’s private, residence, number!

“Mister Garback? Mister Rutkowski is here! Yes! Here in the office! He says he has to speak with you! He says it’s an emergency! Yes! He’s in a highly-agitated state! He’s… what? Yes! Yes… fine! Yes… I’ll tell him!”

As Marjorie hung up the phone, Jason’s “highly-agitated” state accelerated—significantly! To the point that he’d feared that they were going to have to scrape him off the ceiling! He was prepared to be unprepared—for a noncommittal, “tell him I’ll see him later”, response—from the exalted, the supreme, poobah!

His fears were unfounded! The receptionist advised him, “He’ll be right down!”

Thirty-five minutes later, Mr. Garback swept through the lobby doors—and, immediately, motioned Jason, to follow him, into his office! His employee quickly broke into stride—directly behind his leader!

“Now,” panted the president—as he plopped down, into his chair, and indicating that “Jimmy Root” should do the same, “what the hell’s going on? What’s the big-deal emergency?”

Hurriedly—excitedly—Jason filled his boss in! Completely! Orally! As he did, he’d spread out the entire sheaf, of damning papers—furnished to him, by Nicholas Stainback, the previous day! This employer/employee meeting was turning into a highly-intense interchange! Questions and answers bounced back and forth—between the two “highly-agitated” men!

The emotional meeting ended—nine tense, emotion-filled, minutes, after it began—with President Garback banging his fist, upon the top of his desk! (And rattling virtually every single item, on top of it)!

“Dammit, Jason!”, the boss seethed. “You remember, what I told you… when I hired you?” Before the astonished younger man could answer, his employer expounded! Ranted on, great anger bursting from every pore. “I told you… back then… that I’d always run a quiet little operation here! Didn’t want to raise any hackles! Never wanted… to upset anyone! Didn’t want to ruffle… any feathers! Not with City Hall! Not with the State Legislature! Not with any-damn-body! Now, here I am! Sticking my foot . . . my corporate foot… into a whole, real, mess! A whole shitload . . . of mess! It just happens that I, also, can’t stand Ramsay Cartright! This, integrity-up-the-ass, reporter? He did his best . . . seven-and-a-half years ago! His best damn effort… to screw me! Really screw me! Screw me good! Screw me… as far as the FCC is concerned! Tried to keep me… from getting my license! From getting me authorized . . . for the station, here!”

“Really?”

Garback nodded—emphatically! “To get the damn license, I was going up against one of his buddies! One of Cartright’s friends! A former big-deal baseball player! Played shortstop… for The Saint Louis Browns… for a couple or three years! Didn’t know his ass… not from a hole in the ground! Not about the radio business, anyway!”

Jason had never been aware—of this normally-reserved (in spades) man being nearly so outraged. He’d never seen Brooks Garback display any sort of emotion! Not of this sort! The outburst of pure frenzy—was a mind-warping shock!

The result of the “discussion”, with his boss, found both men marching down the corridor—toward the studio!

They burst in, while the morning “personality” was playing a record! Mr. Garback advised the “talent” to—once the tune had finished playing—announce, to his audience, that they should stand by, for an important announcement!

The man complied—then, backed his chair, away from the mic! As he did so, Jason—quickly—raised the boom, holding the microphone, to a higher level! Then—once the record had played out—he spoke, into it! Spoke forcefully into it!

“This is James Root!” He didn’t know why he’d not used “Jimmy”! The name just didn’t seem to fit! The name-switch, however, seemed to stun Mr. Garback!

The condition lasted all of four or five seconds! Slowly, the president began to indulge himself—in a slightly-satisfied smile! As his employee began to inform the station’s listeners, of the blooming scandal, Mr. Garback’s smile began to evolve! From an initial bit of a smirk—to (by the end of Jason’s diatribe) a full-fledged grin!

It had taken only little more than two-and-a-half minutes—but, by the time the, newly-minted, “James Root” had finished, the unseeable audience had been shocked! Well, a significant number of them had! This fact was immediately discernible—by the unexpected avalanche, of phone calls! The overwhelming barrage—that had, instantly, flooded the station’s switchboard!

In the second decade, of the 21st century, the revelation would, probably, not have detonated—nearly—the outraged response! However, in the far-simpler times—of the mid-forties—the radio audience’s reaction became absolutely palpable! Immediately! Example: the station’s switchboard—immediately—lighting up! Like the proverbial “Christmas Tree”!

It should also be noted that Mayor Jeffries was a controversial personage. It seemed as though the citizens of The Motor City either loved him—or hated him! There had been very few middle-of-the-road opinions—vis-a-vis the, somewhat-dynamic, mayor!

Some “official”—who’d claimed to be from City Hall, presumably from the mayor’s office—was the one, to have led off the frightening avalanche! He’d, immediately, shouted—at the poor, shocked, switchboard operator—“Is this fucking true?”

He did not wait for the answer! The connection, then, was—instantly—broken! The poor, shattered, lady didn’t know what to do! The experience left her, physically, shaking—trembling, badly—for, literally, three or four minutes! Marjorie Cullenbine had to—instantly—take