The Garden Club, James Gerard [best beach reads .txt] 📗

the dark.

 

“You sly devil you.  Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

 

“Because you wouldn’t have let me done it.”

 

“All the paths have been cleared this whole time?”

 

“They sure have.”

 

Hal took the flashlight out of Ron’s hand and focused the beam off to either side of the paths ahead.  With eyes wide open and mouth agape, Hal was in disbelief over what the narrow beam of light was able to highlight.  Ron had managed to hold secret work that had been hidden away just not only in the absence of sunlight unable to penetrate the thick canopy above, but from the eyes of others as well.   But it was not until Ron flipped on a multiple sets of floodlights that the results from a continuous labor he had put forth over the years were seen in full.

 

Where Hal had expected to discover an over abundance of overgrowth clogging the lower arteries of the park, the portable lamps flooded the trail with light revealing the open lanes and arousing all the life that had been at rest.  The accessible trails were sights he had not witnessed in years since the hands-off policy went into effect.  Remembrances of such productive times evoked a sense of joy over the park that had been lacking, and of a time when either of them were allowed to do anything to alter the park.  The time seemed even longer when anything of the scale or magnitude had been done.

 

Further, Hal considered, that what had been planned would have considerably changed the balance of the ecosystem that had developed into a thriving forest, but ironically such a balance would stay intact because of Ron’s illegal and deliberate act.  He reasoned Ron must have done the work in carefully planned and staged steps, slow enough through the years in order to stave off any apparent and visible signs, and yet steadily enough to stave off any devastating effects.

 

“Well?” asked Ron.

 

Hal turned and looked at him.  He laughed and said, “Let’s go back and get the tools.”

 

As the two rode back to the tool shed, the work strategy was discussed and agreed on.  Ron would start at the bottom of the service ramp where a set of floodlights was already in position to illuminate the area, and Hal was more than happy to begin on the opposite end closer to the stairs to the observation nest where the lights from the towering stairwell could be used to illuminate the area until sunrise.

 

In an instant, the chainsaws on either end came to life.  They buzzed the park with a whining sound while breaking up the tranquility within.

 

Parrots, macaws, toucans all at once started yakking, flapping, and fleeing from the noise.  Hal spotted a small python escaping through the branches.  It slithered deeper into the canopy to evade the disturbing vibrations.  Chameleons quickly abandoned their positions and scurried away.

 

Mahogany branches, with their large white-yellowish fruit nesting inside the cover of long and graceful leaves of green were severed.  Rubber trees, their branches spreading out into a crown of leathery, shiny, and oblong leaves and adorned by the greenish and yellow fruits hanging off the limbs, fell onto the pathway.  Mango trees, with long dark green leathery leaves, their sweet scented yellowish and reddish flowers filling the early morning air, came crashing down to the pathway along with their succulent fruit.  And although the task of clearing the years of overgrowth proved hard, at least Hal had the hope that by shredding the lifeless limbs, the nutrient rich bits would be recycled into the rain forest that still had a faint hope of surviving.  The Governor had yet to give over the park to the axes of the corporations ready and able and willing to chop it down and kill it without any consideration for life whatsoever. 

 

All day long Hal and Ron sawed and hacked away at the limbs obstructing the three mile elevated trail.  They labored hard until the upper trail connected with the miles of trails below, completing in all the six mile loop.

 

As the two finished clearing the last of the debris stored in hoppers and fed to the shredders, Hal looked to Ron and thought about whether it would be a good idea or not for him the meet with the Governor.

 

To a certain extent, Hal could rationalize his friend’s behavior, count it as harmless and misguided enthusiasm, but unfortunately he was well aware the Governor could not do the same.  He believed that Ron’s presence would only serve as a negative reminder of all things that had been unjustly labeled as dangerous, and unfortunately realized that such reminders would be instantly transferred to thoughts about the park itself.  And considering some of his past antics, the Governor could not rightly ignore such acts deemed strange by those who had witnessed such deeds.  Therefore, the conclusion was that if the park had any chance of surviving at all, it would be a good idea if Ron stayed away from the meeting.

 

Hal looked to his friend standing over the rail and looking down at the life below.  “By the way,” he said, “I can handle tomorrow by myself.  I mean the two of us don’t need to be there.  Why don’t you just take it easy and get some rest.”

 

Ron turned around, “What?  What’s the problem with me being there?”

 

“I just think….”

 

“You don’t trust me,” Ron blurted out.

 

“Come on, it’s not that.  I just know how you don’t like dealing with the business end so much is all.”

 

“Oh, I see,” shouted Ron as he stepped up to Hal, “get me out of the way then there will be no one to defend the park.”

 

“Here we go again,” whispered Hal.

 

“What do you mean by that?”

 

“Just listen,” Hal groaned.  “He’s being pressured to do something.  Let me handle it.  He’s used to me.  I have a better chance of persuading him.”

 

Hal stared into Ron’s eyes.  He knowingly could not be so sure of what he just said to his friend since in reality it was Ron that had much more passion associated with the park.   But the last thing the Governor needed was someone to inflame the anger of those that would be in attendance, thereby adding fuel to an already flaming desire to take the park no matter what the cost.

 

Ron stood his ground.  He stared at Hal as if demanding his right to be there.  He too could put up a solid defense against its demise and come up with a strong argument that would secure its future.

 

Ron broke the silence.  “Whether you like it or not, I’m going to be there.”

 

“Come on Ron!  Don’t you understand, we can’t afford to blow this?”

 

“I won’t blow it.”

 

Hal detected a bit of sincerity in the tone of the statement.  Beyond that, Hal also knew there was no way to stop his friend from attending the meeting if he wanted to be there.

 

Hal let out a sigh and said, “Fine.  Be there.  But let me do most of the talking.”

 

As Ron turned and stepped over to the cart, Hal knew his friend too well to know that would be difficult to avoid.  Just the mere presence of the Chairman of the Board of Realtors and the Commissioner of the Meat Council, not to mention Kenneth’s untimely interest in the matter, was enough to test his patience.   Hal envisioned that just the sight of Ron would raise the tension instantly.  And his thoughts shuddered in reaction to images of Ron pursuing an intentional and volatile confrontation by turning from a defensive position to one that would attack the foes standing in the way of the park’s future.  But Ron was his best friend.

 

Hal knew in his heart that the commitment to stand up for the park was now strong, but at the same time wondered why such a commitment to his old friend was lacking?  On the drive home it was a question that reared its ugly head continuously and begged an answer.

 

A Mother's Request

Hal’s thoughts ran wildly.  His body twisted and turned seeking out a comfortable position on the tattered mattress, but there was no rest to be found.

 

The eyes managed to catch a glimpse of the clock’s face as the body rolled over yet again in an ever ending pursuit of sleep.  The time, one o’clock in the morning, stared back coldly as if mocking his perceived need for relaxation and laughing as the minutes and hours rolled relentlessly by without regard for the desire to refresh the mind.

 

Hal finally realized the expected slumber was a lost cause and surrendered to the excitement that would not cease stirring the expectations of the day.  He sprang up from the bed and stepped over to the small pile of papers sitting neatly on the desk.  The lamp flickered in response to a finger tapping the sensor.  Eyes watched and waited before the intermittent light held steady and illuminated the room with just enough light to reexamine the information contained within the map and briefings that had been sent to the Governor just hours ago.

 

The highlighted route was clearly visible.   All areas for the purpose of envisioning a future and the vantage points offering spectacular views of the forest were included for the Governor and parties of interest.  They were meticulously marked, explained, noted, and indexed.  Spelling, language accenting the terms, phrases, and jargon of the business minded was rechecked and proofed for both accuracy and content.

 

Eyes scanned every little detail to search out points that were deemed too weak or too strong.  Over and over again Hal addressed the information’s content to assure it matched the unspoken and unwritten guidelines that just by experience he knew the Governor expected.

 

The laptop’s screen revealed no new message.  The confirmation of the Governor having received the sent documents was the last notice on record.  And though an hour had passed in the frantic search to discover something amiss, Hal reluctantly concluded it was still too early to head out to the park just yet.

 

He leaned back in the chair and felt the pangs of anxiety that accompanied the excessive excitement.  The thought of watching a corporate news program, movie, show, or documentary was rejected.  It was not that the desire to pass the time with some sort of thought simulating activity was not appeasing, it was rather the desire to avoid the possibility of being influenced by the ingeniously scripted, imperceptible propaganda so carefully intertwined throughout the content that guided the decision.

 

Hal realized that such manipulation would have polluted the new strategy for the Governor’s consideration.  That strategy was born out of the idea to fight for and support his friend’s desires rather than cowering to the demands of the corporate giants.  Ron was more important. 

 

Out of restlessness, the new strategy quickly took shape and overcame the old.  The old concept dealt with countering the plans constructed by the business mind in matching their ideas concerning the use of the space. The hope was the Governor would at least be able to hear the logic of the concept and be somewhat interested in it.  The new plan was simple by taking advantage of what already existed.  It brought attention to what the upper echelon of corporate management had taken advantage for years.  Hal believed that such an argument just might sway the Governor enough to change the decision, but to do so it had to be perfect in presentation