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

rumbling towards the park prepared to destroy every living thing that existed under the shell.

 

Oblivious to the passing time, he looked to the distant park to detect any large scale disturbances, but everything appeared normal.  Just up ahead on the highway, however, flashing lights grabbed the attention.  The car sped up.  Eyes focused.  What was not noticed at first now filled the view: A convoy of heavy equipment was indeed rumbling towards the park.

 

A foot pressed heavy on the accelerator and the car sped on by the long line of trucks.  Nearing the shell he could see members of the maintenance crew scampering about the top examining the shell’s integrity as usual.  Maybe they’re just waiting for the Governor to announce the decision? he wondered. 

 

The car raced into the parking lot and screeched to a halt.  With the exception of the red van, the employee parking lot was empty.  Anxiety sent him sprinting through the entrance.  The cart was nowhere in sight.

 

“Ron!”

 

Hal screamed a piercing scream as the mad dash to the base of the observation nest revealed the elevator back in a state of disrepair.

 

He raced up the steps at a furious pace and busted through the door.  Eyes flitted about the park below looking for any sign as to Ron’s whereabouts, but except for swaying branches here and there and from the familiar rustlings of small animals and reptiles moving about and birds flapping their wings, Ron was not seen.

 

“Are you out there Ron?” Hal shouted into the radio’s microphone.

 

The speaker was silent.

 

“Ron, where’s your location?”

 

No response.

 

“Answer Ron!  They’re on their way.”

 

Silence.

 

“I can’t explain it, but if you are listening, the Governor sold the park to the Board of Realtors.  He hasn’t made the announcement yet, but they’re on their way.”

 

Still no response.

 

“Look, things may seem pretty bad right now, but we’ll make it.  We’ll get work together.”

 

The silence was eerie.

 

“Look Ron, I’m leaving now.  I suggest you get out of here too.”

 

Just as Hal was about to run out his phone rang.

 

“Ron?”

 

“A bit of friendly advice,” a voice responded, “you two better disappear.”

 

“Is that you Kenneth?”

 

A click responded.

 

“Screw you and the threats,” whispered Hal as the cell phone was hurled at the floor and smashed upon impact.  “Just deal with it Kenneth.”

 

After reaching the bottom of the stairs, Hal stared intently down the path hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

 

Shouts of “Ron” evoked alarming chatter as animals scurried for cover.  Not able to bear the burden of leaving his friend in the dark, Hal shouted one last time but the plea went unanswered.

 

Running along the natural paths, eyes searched out good hiding places in which Ron could use as solitary shelters.  Eyes peered at the tree line as logic dictated that deep in its dense cover amid herbs and ferns and seedlings and mice and shrews and anoles and snakes and frogs and termites and spiders and beetles and grasshoppers abundant in life below and above and within, Ron hid.

 

“Ron!”

 

Sprinting further along the path he observed the slow current of the river with the surface ripples caused by piranha on the hunt, from fish snatching insects off the surface from below, and birds diving into the shallow depths spearing their daily meals, but no evidence of Ron hidden in its depths.

 

“Where are the monsters?” he yelled.

 

Hal entered a path made dark by the forest canopy.  It was a path that Ron had cleared in secret, but the only life lurking about were lines of leaf cutting ants scurrying about in every direction.  They were harvesting and transporting food back to their nests, then returning to the hunt for more.

 

A solo anteater, its tongue flicking out to stab at the tasty morsels, feasted on the abundant supply of food was also present.

 

The only other life present were beetles that feasted on the fallen mangoes, burrowed deep inside the rotting corpses to lay their eggs.

 

“It’s useless,” whispered Hal.  “Ron, if you can hear me, goodbye my friend.”

 

Hal raced up the path until clear from the forest.  On the way he was oblivious to the aromas of the many flowers and the intricate textures of the many leaves.  He was blinded to the vivid colors of fruits and seeds and the animals that had been the last remnants of earth’s once mighty and expansive rain forests.  But as he raced past the bottom of the observation nest and towards the maintenance entrance, sadness hit the thoughts anew.  This will be the last time I get to see the forest.

 

The parking lot had yet to be assaulted by the crews and the equipment sent by the Board of Realtors.  Speeding to the highway, eyes glanced into the rearview mirror to take in the view for the memories.  The tires screeched as the car sped onto the on-ramp as the convoy of trucks exited on the opposite side of the highway.

 

A fist pounded the steering wheel.  “That damn son of a bitch,” hollered Hal.  The decision to head downtown emerged in an instant to demand an explanation from the Governor.

 

As he raced along the uncongested highway, thoughts of Ron seized the mind.  Hal came to the realization of what he had done and took the blame for the park’s demise and Ron’s anger.   He realized it all rested solely on his shoulders.  The outright feeble plea to save the park must have been heard by his friend as weak, and most likely deemed cowardly.  What was needed, what Ron had certainly been looking for, was a detailed plan delivered with a roar and backed by strong conviction.

 

The focus again shifted back to the Governor and the actions of the Board of Realtors. They knew, thought Hal, well ahead of time the decision that favored them.  In secret, they had met and agreed beforehand.  The Governor receiving future promises of a life lived out in luxury and the Board of Realtors padding both their wealth and power base said it all.  And in light of this revelation, Hal feared for not only his life, but the life of Ron as well.

Decisions

 Hal sat on a bench rocking back and forth while staring at the hotel.   The suspicious stares of discerning eyes from those out and about strolling along the bayside paths staring at him, were probably wondering why the man with a haggard appearance sat alone in the park, went unnoticed.

 

The nearby clock tower chimed aloud.  The short tones ringing made clear that nine o’clock was approaching fast.  “Come on, just do it,” he whispered as hands grabbed and pulled at clumps of hair.  He was agonizingly aware that while time idly passed by, the life that composed the very essence of the Rain Forest Park was being razed, killed, and hauled off in trucks to whatever recycling center they deemed best.  But despite such anxious thoughts, he knew there was no way they would let the Governor be disturbed before the time appointed for the news conference.

 

“Damn it,” he shouted.  He was now furious over smashing the phone at the observation nest.  “The Governor is a man of his word,” Hal knew all too well.  “He said he would call before the decision was announced; that phone was my last chance to plead for the park one last time.”  Rising off the bench he screamed, “No, the opportunity was yesterday.”

 

Hal’s thoughts were so wrapped up in failing to put forth a valid argument to save the park that the stares of contempt from those strolling along the paths of the idyllic gardens that surrounded the bench were meaningless.

 

“How could I do that?” he moaned.  “The Board of Realtors!  I blew it.”

 

The anticipation of the press conference through which the decision was supposed to be declared had fizzled into nothingness.  Hal could not help but to think that the announcement was a matter of ceremonial protocol, and one that had the stench of the backdoor deals of the past.  The anouncement was like the very same agreements between corrupt factions of the government and greedy corporate executives well in advance of such public declarations.

 

Hal now saw the press conference attended by handpicked reporters of the corporate news agency as nothing more than a trivial matter of presenting the truth with layers of lies embedded in the propaganda campaigns used to gain further control and power.  The promises given would be received with enthusiasm but soon would result in profound disappointment as the Governor’s words would be proven as utter rhetoric.

 

Hal could just hear the speech haunt his very thoughts:

 

Good people of the world, I have for you this morning good news concerning a new era of economic stability for years to come.  I am pleased to announce the sale of San Diego’s Rain Forest Park to the Board of Realtors.

 

“Look!  Look at me people.  Look at this gutless coward that stands before you.”

 

Hal heard the murmurings emanating from the surrounding area.   Sounds of laughter, scoffing, hateful rants delivered with tones of piercing judgment penetrated the senses, but he just simply did not care.

 

He spotted two men walking directly towards him.  At first glance they appeared to be hotel employees, but upon further inspection the scowls on their faces made them known.  Hal had no doubt they were summoned to deal with the maniac screaming in the open park.

 

“What’s your problem?” one of the men asked.

 

“Well, aside from the fact I’m a huge failure, I thought I’d come by and see the Governor.”

 

“How much have you had to drink today?”

 

“I haven’t been drinking.”

 

“Okay then, what about drugs?”

 

“No drugs either.  But come to think about, a drink and some drugs sound pretty good right now.”

 

“Your identification buddy.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Are you looking for problems pal?” 

 

Hal obliged the request and pulled out the identification card and handed it over to one of the men.  The man stepped off to the side and relayed the information to what he believed was the dispatch center for corporate security.  The other man just stood by not saying a word yet the posture indicated he was prepared for Hal to bolt from the scene.

 

Hal felt fear take over in the form of tension.  Never before had he been confronted with such suspicion.  Eyes stared hard on the officer with the identification card in hand strolling up slowly to him.

 

“I guess you’re out of a job Hal,” said the officer as he handed back the identification card.  “My advice to you is hook up with the Board of Realtors.”  The man put a hand over the mouth as if to suppress a chuckle and then said, “They’re really short-handed now.” 

 

“Look, I just came here to see the Governor.”

 

“Leave!”         

 

“But….”

 

“Leave now!”

 

Hal was stunned and taken aback by the apparent indignity of the man’s implied amusement over losing not only a job, but the prospects of facing an unknown future.   He could see that the look in both of their eyes were that of growing impatience and decided to retreat to the car.

 

He leaned over the hood with  fists pounding.  It was an attempt to release the anger stemming from the altercation, but the more the pounding, the more of a determination to confront the Governor.  Just then the clock tower chimed.  The clock read nine o’clock.  The opportunity to burst through the line of security had passed.

 

Morbid curiosity led to the car radio and the news that was about to be uttered:

 

Governor Hartson’s news conference, scheduled for nine