Scheduled for Release October 2018
A Preview
of
Excitement, Crime, Justice, Mystery, Trials and Tribulation, Revenge and Salvation
The latest offering from the Alcove of Bill Tallchief
Wisps From The Cavern
A Triad of Tales
A Formal Affair
Minnie Lee
When The Wall Sings....Beware
The Watch for the Release Date
A little peek...
A Formal Affair
Late summer afternoon, New York City, 350 Park Avenue 27th floor, Offices of Taekeeya, Dalluhz & Hyddam, Ltd.
A well-dressed, white-haired thick moustached bespectacled, rather stocky gentle-man enters the offices of the investment firm, and approaches the reception desk.
“May I help you, sir??” the attractive lady asks.
“Yes, of course, he answers in a “italian” accent. “Mr. Thrash, please!”
“To your right, sir, third door, number 2715...”
“Thank you.”
Entering the office, he is greeted by Maureen, the Customer Representative.
“Mr. Thrash, please?” he says, presenting his business card.
She arises and gently taps on the office door, then opens it. Wells is on the phone.
“A Mr. Simminone, your four o’clock is here”, she announces. Wells rises as he dons his suit jacket to receive the gentleman.
“Pleased to meet you, please, sit.”
“Likewise…..I’m sure, my card, of course.”
It reads: ”Geraldo Simminone, Comptroller, W.K Kelloff Company, Duluth MN.”
“Mr. Thrash, my company intends to move its Finance Offices to New York and we would like to use your service for our investment portfolio… and you, your firm come highly recommended so I thought I take the time to personally gain information about your timely investment procedures. When we see an opportunity, we like to quickly take advantage, and we need to understand how this can be achieved rapidly….You know, in this global economy, the most responsive gain the edge.”
“Yes, I understand……we have an excellent technological system that allows the client to quickly move their funds, you select and control your passwords, and electronically notify us and we immediately execute your instruction, virtually within seconds!”
“Of course, using your areas of preference, we analyze your portfolio and where we see opportunities for you, we advise but when and how you invest is strictly up to you. We have advisors, like me, who can handle your portfolio under a trust agreement or you can make your own decisions….”
“Well, that’s what I wanted to be assured of… If you will provide the required paperwork, I will have my team prepare the documents…. say, we begin with er…your minimum…$125 million??”
“Why, of course…”
“Good!! It’s good meeting you, I look forward to a magnificent relationship!! I could not help but notice the tickets on your desk, rather prominent….Charity. We like our relationships to be involved in civic enterprises…..
“Oh, yes, my firm, my friends and I always make sure we stay involved…. It should be a delightful evening, Friday….”
"I’m impressed, we will be in touch…. Thank you.”
“No, sir, thank you!!” They shake hands and the gentleman turns to leave.
"Well, good day, Mr. Thrash!!” he says as he closes the door behind him.
“Hottdammmn!!!” Wells exclaims as he bangs his fist on the desk….
“Maureen, get me all you can on a “W.K. Kelloff Company, Duluth MN!!!”
“Yes sir!!”
Friday evening……. 7:30 New York Hilton, Ambassador Room…
When they arrived early to the Presentation Dinner and Concert, the cocktail hour is in full force. Men in penguin suits, ladies decked out in long fine gowns. As he presented his invitation, the usher commented “Please keep your invitations available. You will need them for the dinner.
Wellington (Wells) nodded in assent and strolled into the midst of the throng. The lovely Eartha walks over and clutches his right arm. She is stunning. What attracted her to him the first time, was the sexy, pursed smile she seemed to, now always, display. He had eyed her first on a Hudson River Jazz Society boat ride four years ago. She was 5’8” and had a figure that would not quit, long legs, flawless copper skin, her straight black hair, with an attention getting reddish tint, worn in a short bob; and from afar, he watched her as she expressed herself, using her long arms as if she was a hula dancer telling an enchanting tale. She had on this svelte cobalt blue dress, hemmed just above the knee, belted at the waist, sleeveless, showing just enough to say “all of this is me!” But that was Eartha, now just a good friend. The fling lasted for five months and then they drifted apart. Both were adult about the affair and did not make a big deal about it. Now they playfully tease each other, leaving the thought that occasionally there may be a time when they might hookup again, for convenience, if you know what I mean.
Eartha took his arm and strolled into the side room where the cocktail hour was in full force.
But as they chatted, he surveyed the room, and then he saw her… She caught his eye immediately….she was with a group of five ladies and she was the focus of their attention, as she spoke. He was too far away to hear the subject of their conversation, but that was not important. What was important was, that she was as fine a lady he had seen in some time.
“Excuse me, Eartha”, he said as he kissed her on the cheek and sort of, handed her off to a gentleman who was standing alone in the middle of the floor, holding a drink. The move was as smooth as a quarterback’s handoff to a running back! The guy just stood there with this beautiful lady on his arm, not knowing what else to do but crack a silly smile. Wells never looked back, as he was focused on the quintet and particularly, the lady in the black dress!
Wells, himself, was a good looking guy, tall, chiseled features with a rather prominent but regal nose, a medium moustache. Being tall, well over six feet, physically fit and well proportioned, he too, was always noticed. His size was hard to ignore. He was at all times, well dressed; he and his running buddy, Searcy, were always ready to make the scene of every affair that was “in.” And this one was “in!” The benefit affair and cocktail party, he was told, would be full of eligible ladies and from the looks of things; “No lie!” This was certainly “Worth the trip!”
He looked around and found Searcy, then walked over and nudged him, as a signal to edge toward the bar, Searcy for a drink; Wells, for a closer look. Cola in hand, he walked toward the quintet, and as he passed them, he paused. Boldly, he interrupted their conversation.
“May get any of you ladies a refill?” he asked. There was a moment, just the briefest of pauses, as the object of his attention, stopped speaking. A lady in a pert red dress, glass almost empty, glanced at him, smiled and extended her glass.
“Of course” he said, and took her glass, “Another Dom Perion, I presume?” he responded. “Of course” she said, lustfully eyeing him. He had all their attention by this time. Instead of leaving to obtain the glass of champagne, he extended his arm rearward toward Searcy, who he knew was behind him, a few feet from the group. “Bob, champagne, no, Dom Perion for the lady!” he said, staring right at the well-endowed lady in black. “How about you?” he questioned. “No thank you.” she responded. “I’m Wells” he said. “This jazz ensemble is supposed to be very entertaining”, he continued on. Bob was back with the glass of champagne and handed it to the lady in the red dress. “Thank you” she purred. “I’m Gladys; this is Janet, Shea’andra, Mary and Lee Ann.” nodding toward each as she spoke. “And you are, again?” she asked, staring at Wells, “I’m Wells” he said quickly, and this is my man…..Searcy”.
.... “Oh, this is my friend Bob, Bob, Gladys.” Bob steps forward between Gladys and Wells. Bob then takes Gladys by the arm and says ”As I walked into the room, I could not take my eyes off of you; the dress really does so well on you, of course….it has so much to work with!” “Why don’t we find some seats?”
By this time Wells was already in the music room, his eyes searching for the ladies. It was crowded but he was able to spot the quartet. As he again approaches them, he notices that the lady in black was standing aside, conversing with a good looking gentleman in a blue shirted tux. Sharp looking guy…she was chuckling and seemed to be enjoying his company. The gentleman takes her arm and the two walk toward the front and then sat down. The lights dim twice and the loudspeakers intoned ”Please take your seats, the performance is about to begin.”
Wells sat, at the same time looking for Searcy. Although it was crowded, he was able to spot Bob… and Gladys. Great jazz quintet.
“Hi, Wells, you enjoy the show? Bob told me all about you in a half an hour! Bob says you are his best buddy and that I should go out of my way to help you …but be careful what you wish for!…you guys wait here.”
“Wells.... I know what you’re interested in and
since you are my man, guess what? Shea’andra is a recent reboundee...”
“Shea’andra?
“Yes, Shea’andra….she’s in her mourning, cooling off period, not looking, not seriously looking, at all… according to Gladys. NBC, assistant producer… according to her, her man dumped her after six years. They were going to get married but he ran off with somebody else… so, the ninety day bit, you know…. TV news, 6 o’clock…. Don’t worry, my man, I got Gladys to do a real intro, special, just for you. Oh, the guy… naaaah, some bank vice president… nothing happening there. She’s not touching a guy for a while, Gladys says. So, cry your heart out! You will suffer, the intro is just to see you drool!” giggled Searcy.
”Thanks a lot!” replied Wells.
“Gladys had tiptoed off into the throng. A minute later there she was with the lady in black.
“Wells, this is Shea’andra, Shea’andra, Wells, Bob’s best friend!”
“I am glad to meet you and …”
”Why?” questioned Shea’andra, interrupting him in mid-sentence.
She drained all the cockiness out of him with the question.
As poised as he was, as bold as he was, as assured as he was, he was caught off guard. He smiled one of those “Where is the hole I live in?” looks. “Have a nice evening” she said, as she turned and walked away.
“Did I just get played?“ he wondered aloud.
“Okay…er…by the way did she say anything about that other girl…Shea…er…Shea’andra?”
“Naw, man that’s you, you gotta figure that one out. I’ll get some more info from Gladys, maybe we’ll figure it out, how to take the chill out of the air!”
“Damn right, she was ice cold at me, but she had that banker…”
Gladys says that’s just zero, nada… don’t worry, I’m your man….you gonna owe me… but like Miss G say, be careful what you wish for….later…”
Searcy hung up the phone.
Minnie Lee
1928 Moore County, N. C.
The rows and rows of cotton seemed like a forest of white as she looked at those thorny bushes, while she held tightly to momma’s apron. Momma was moving so fast it was hard for little Minnie Lee to stay on her feet.
“C’mon girl, you holdin’ Momma back!” Momma’s sack was almost full again, and she yelled, “Bossman, gimme ‘notha bag!!
All Minnie Lee knew was to hold on tight. It’s been a week since Momma said she was ready to go to the field… Gosh, she’s been walkin’ for about six months now and her stubbly little legs were tired but she held on….until she let go and sat down!!
May Alice yelled, “Moo’ yo’ baby…. Ah is right b’hin’ you!!!”
With that, Annie reached back and grabbed her baby up flung little Minnie Lee onto her back and yelled, “Hold on tight baby!!” and at the same time and snatched three bolls of cotton and flung them into the sack!! Annie was intent on getting one more sack before sundown; another sack meant another fifteen cents!! And Lord knows, she has to work as hard as she can because tomorrow being Friday and end of the month, she has to square up her credit at Moses’ General Store, so she’ll be able to get food for the four mouths she has to feed, hers, Hallie, Albert’s and now, Minnie Lee.
Annie works the Calhoun plantation, south of the Vass Creek, and the Yadkin River as they flow into Badin Lake. All 1200 acres… good moist land, fed by the flow down from the Ozarks, good for cotton… Plant in late April/early May three weeks later here come the shoots! Albert and Hallie worked Jack’s portion, while Annie worked Matthew’s. Annie worked with her momma under Boss until he decided to apportion the acreage...... Annie had a glow about her and Matthew thought she had the finest figure of all them Black girls (and white) that he’d seen! When he got her, he never pushed her; she was doing her job…but he always kept an idea that he could get next to her, unseen.
The Calhouns been there since before slavery time, they never had their slaves run off because they treated them well… (for slaves) and after the war, paid them to stay on and it’s been that way for damn near seventy years. But every so often, there’s a Calhoun who still lives in the past, Boss Matthew being such a person. The middle son of Chisholm Calhoun, a somewhat heavyset, thick man, six foot two, two hundred forty pounds, well-tanned from the sun, after Jack the eldest and two years older than Lemuel, he’s always felt left out. He’s always thought Boss Chisholm favored Jack because he was the oldest, and handsomer son and red-faced Lemuel because he was Momma Calhoun’s favorite. To prove he was as good a “manager” as Jack, he pushed his hands hard, striving to be the one with the most production. When he wasn’t, he’d pout, go get drunk, then come back pushing harder and harder.
Boss Chisholm had split up his land into three parcels, one for each of the boys to run, four hundred acres apiece, as soon as Lemuel turned twenty-one.
Jack got married to Cissy back in ’26 and they all live at the Big House. Mother Calhoun died when she caught dengue fever after Lemuel was given his portion of the land… but never to be split up; the boys could manage their plot and be given bonuses based on which produced more cotton, but the land would always be ”Calhoun” land….forever!!!.
Worddell, Annie’s man, lashed back at Boss Matthew, three months ago after being pushed to his limit. He was dog-tired, it was past sundown and Boss Matthew Calhoun wanted one more sack. Well, Boss went crazy and whupped Worddell to his knees with that cat-o'-nine-tails!! Worddell rose up and snatched Boss Matthew offa that horse, took hold o’ that whip and lashed Boss three times!!!! Worddell ran off into the thicket toward the pines and the swamp, whip in hand!! Boss Matthew, bloodied about his face, whistled for help and galloped off into the forest. Ole man Boss Chisolm and three men on horseback followed….. Money come first with the Calhouns, revenge later…….
“Where ya from, boy??? Betcha ya pull yo’ weight, huh!!!” commented Boss Chisholm, as he spat that mouthful tobacco juice from on high. Worddell Stewart looked at the spot where the spit landed, then looked up at Boss and said, “Pull my weight and yo’se too, s’long as Ah’m respected!!! “Grown man, suh, outta Sumpter County, South Carolina, been in the Army, put in my time, looking fuh work… in town, they say ya’all always lookin’ fo’ help, so’s Ah come out here for an honest day’s.”
“Ah gi’ that boy to ya, ’cause yo’ always complainin’, so don’t run that boy off….mouff is mouff, money is money!!!” warned Chisolm.
‘Yeah, but he looks kinda uppity, and Ah ain’t gonna take no s**t offa him!! Ah ain’t got no problem, so long as he shut up and snatch them bolls!!!”
The next day just at sun up, there he was, Worddell, at the front of Big Momma Belle’s shack, waiting for breakfast and Annie. It was like that for four months….they snatched bolls each, fast as one could; but not so fast that he’s leave Annie behind.
He’s hollered at Wordell but he ain’t never cracked that whip at him. Wordell would just whistle and pull them bolls at his pace… which was close to being the fastest. One time Annie asked him, “You could really make some money if you kept up yo’ pace… why don’tcha??
Worddell would smile that mouth full of white teeth and step back so’d he’d get a full view of Annie, whistle and then say, “Ain’t no money worth the view I see!!!”
“You a good man and a good worker, don’ cause no trouble…. Glad ta have on muh plantation…..tha’s good, Annie keep you heah workin’, we all be happy!!!”.
“Ah don’ mean to break up yo’ family, Ah just wanna be a part of it wit’ Annie!... kin Ah git yo’ blessin’???
Momma beamed….”Boy I see’d ya been sniffin’ up aroun' heah, lookin’ at my girl…but I also see’d you got some gumption and ya work hard…
When The Wall Sings....Beware
In the town of Weisbrot, in western Pennsylvania, the venerable old gray stone church stood on the corner of Hamburg and Pottsdam Streets, plastered against the dank and cloudy skies of March. The wind whistled its way down the street, having gained its momentum from the open fields that lay west of the town. This was old German farm country, and after the winter crop of potatoes and wheat, the fields were left to themselves, so without any barrier, the wind was free to wreak havoc and it did so with a vengeance. The fact that the last fierce snow storm had left its remains in the fields and streets, could not deter the townsfolk. It was Saturday and it was time for burial and prayer.
If it were not for the crowd of worshipers huddled, standing outside the church’s tall and aged wooden doors, you would never believe that at one time this was a happy town at a happy time.
At 2:30 this afternoon, the burial ceremony of Doctor Herve Bruchtel would begin.
Herve was the fifth death, four of them gruesome, in this small town since November. There were whispers that the four people who were attacked and mangled, had met their untimely demise; brutally…… and Sheriff Griffin was puzzled, but he kept the details secret, for he did not want the townspeople to panic, as there hadn’t been a violent death in Weisbrot for over five years, and that one was an accident. A fellow by the name of Gus Farnsworth got out of his thresher to inspect a metal object in its path and forgot, they say, to place the gear shift in ”Stop” and it ran over him…until this chain of woe, the last one before Dr. Bruchtel, was old man Gottskamp who was ninety seven and wheelchair-bound for the last fifteen years before he died in January, of questionable circumstance; although the County Coroner listed the cause as old age and a heart attack.
Now, here is Dr. Bruchtel…..who was found in a pool of blood in his office, as if he had been visited by Lizzie Borden, his face disfigured, his blood splattered on walls, his right arm severed, found way across the room…….
Old Gottskamp’s grandson had come back to live with him in September from upstate New York, Schenectady, the old man said.
Grover, the grandson, also grew up in Weisbrot, but in high school there was an incident with some young girl, the very same Marlene Summerlin, claimed he had attempted to sexually assault her. Grover was arrested and charged, but old man Gottskamp blew his stack at the allegation and hired a lawyer from Pittsburgh to come the one hundred and sixty miles to represent Grover.
The sheriffs of both counties hounded Grover. He could not return to school, so his grandfather finally shipped him off to Juniata Military Academy, miles away, to finish high school. ................
If the forgoing intrigues you, be ready to order your issue as soon as it is published!!! Thank you for your support.
Bill Tallchief
