Skip to content

Southern Justice, Part Four

I’m Fixin’ To present part four of Southern Justice:

B. Wendell Hormel could hardly contain himself as he tucked his wrinkled shirt into his pants. He was 60 pounds overweight, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t button the top button on his shirt. His food-stained tie drooped over his protruding belly. The small amount of hair he had left was limited to a small strip above his ears and on the back of his head, which was in dire need of a trim. He brushed his teeth and splashed a little cologne on his face before dashing out the door to meet Jackie for lunch.

It was Monday, and the restaurant was quiet, so B. Wendell spotted Jackie right away, standing at the bar. He caught his breath. All those years and she was still a knockout. Heck, she even looks better! he thought.

At the same moment, from across the room at the bar, Jackie looked up and there he was, and as usual, looking the worse for his wear. He was the most unkempt man she had ever had anything to do with, but regardless, he was her partner in crime.

He immediately rushed over and grabbed her in a bear hug while he growled, “Hello, gorgeous, you look better than ever. It’s so good to see you!”

The scent of his cologne was a bit overpowering and he was dressed as sloppily as she remembered, but she knew who and what he was and what to expect of him.

When she managed to extract herself from the bear hug she said, “Hello, B. W., you uh—you look the same.”

Over lunch they reminisced and chuckled over the suckers they had taken, and caught up on what had happened to each other over the years. When the check came Jackie reached for it, but B. Wendell beat her to it.

“Oh no. I’ll get this. It’s the least I can do for the person who started my career.”

“Thank you, B. W.,” Jackie said as he passed his credit card to the waiter.

Over coffee, she could hear the excitement in his voice when he said, “Listen Jackie, all these years have passed and people have come and gone. There are hundreds of new companies in Atlanta. Let’s take up where we left off!”

Jackie could see his excitement intensify when she said, “No, that’s all over with B. W. I’ve got something else in mind.”

“Oh, I can’t wait!” B Wendell sputtered. “Tell me, tell me!”

Jackie took a slow sip of her coffee before she asked, “Did you ever hear of a company named Pic-Ric Products?”

•••

Rick Haselton, Junior, always got to work early and took a tour through the Pic-Ric Products factory before going to his office, but today he was worried about his father. On this particular morning he couldn’t seem to concentrate on the activities of the different departments as he walked through them. His mind kept drifting back to how wonderful things had been 10 years ago, back when the company was just beginning to emerge into a strong and viable business.

That was the time when his father had brought himself, along with Chris Adams and Jones into the business just after the three of them had graduated from college, taught them the business and eventually made them vice presidents and basically let them begin to take the company toward their long range marketing plans.

It was only a short time after their promotions when the accident happened—when his mother had been killed by a cop, while in a high-speed chase had crashed into her car. After that his father began to go down hill. He never had his heart in the work after that, and lately, he very seldom came to work, and he had begun to drink heavily.

Rick Junior’s thoughts came back to the present when he stepped through the door leading from the factory into the office area. Down the hallway he spotted Jones and Chris at the coffee machine and figured they were nursing hangovers. Unlike him, neither of them had settled down and begun to raise a family.

He loved them both like brothers. The three of them, with no other siblings, had been together since little league baseball, and the bond had continued through high school, college and the years since. They had always been one-for-all and all-for-one–the modern day Three Musketeers.

(www.teddunagan.com)

(tmdunagan@aol.com)

Leave a Comment