Chapter 9: Confrontation

Disruption

Mead circulated copies of the sketch to all shakers, foremen, and teachers on Monday. Two whistles sounded in different parts of the forest as suspects were spotted by over-vigilant workers, but it took only a few moments for police to dismiss the men without even taking them to the station. One had been black and the other barely five feet tall and 200 pounds. People were on edge.

It strained the limited resources of the police department. Off-duty sheriff’s deputies were stationed at the elementary school to cover traffic. Many parents who could arrange their volunteer and work schedules joined their children’s classes in the Forest. Gee saw Dale and Ruth Ann Metzger with Sally Ann’s class on Monday. They nodded politely to him and went back to watching the children and scanning the surrounding Forest. Gee found that he, too, was scanning as he climbed.

When he finished for the day, Gee was surprised to find Judge Warren waiting for him to stow his tools.

“You’re doing a mighty fine job of shaking those trees,” Warren said. “Coretta speaks highly of you.”

“She’s a gem. And the kids all love her.”

“She is at that. I’ve always considered her my aunt, though we aren’t closely related. We’d probably have to go back a few generations to find a common ancestor, but all the war orphans considered themselves to be brothers and sisters,” the judge said.

“You ... Certainly you aren’t old enough to be one of the war orphans.”

“No. Of course not. My mother. That’s why I still think of Coretta, Celia and Heinz as my aunts and uncle. My mother was born Dee Poltanys. The four of them remaining are as close as any group of siblings you will ever find.”

“What happened to the other three?”

“Henry Lazorack was killed in a fall last Harvest. Ewan Meagher was lost in Viet Nam. Pàl Savage left the town with his grandfather back in the mid-fifties and hasn’t been seen since. Personally, I think we’ll find soon that Wayne Savage is now the heir to that family. But that’s why I’ve come to see you, Gee. I find we have need of a champion.”

“Hmm. I think this is the first time I’ve been approached in advance. It seems like I’m usually just in time to find an emergency,” Gee mused. “What can the City Champion do for you?”

“Join me for dinner. Not here at the buffet. Let’s go to Louie’s.”

“I thought he was only open in the morning.”

“Oh, the café is closed, but Argos promised a good meal and a quiet place to talk. Would you like to invite Karen?”

“She has to put the paper to bed tonight. You should assume, though, that anything I hear, she will hear later tonight.”

“Unlike some of the Families, I trust her.”

Gee had listened to nearly an hour of history, some of which he’d heard before, but now had additional context for the dedication of the four remaining war orphans, including the fact that there was a trust for each of the six non-Savage heirs. Each trust held one hundred thousand shares of SSG stock. The trustee wanted to give Gee the proxy for their shares and have him attend the annual meeting.

“Why me, Judge? This seems like Family business to me.”

“Yes, I suppose so. But it is about the City and the Forest. We believe the annexation may hinge in part on the shareholders’ meeting. And it’s more than that, Gee. It’s true that we don’t want the Families exposed as shareholders of SSG, but you are part of the Forest. It claimed you when you ate the nut. Without having a Family name, you are still recognized as an equal by the heads of the Families,” Judge Warren said. “I can’t even begin to tell you how that astounds me.”

“Judge, I don’t want to interfere with Family matters.”

“Believe me, not all the Family heads are in complete agreement. It upsets a two-hundred-year tradition. But in spite of the fact that Heinz is in the dual role of head of Family and war orphan, and Collin Meagher is batty as they come, the war orphans have selected you to represent them on behalf of the Forest.”

“What about David Lazorack. Wasn’t his father a war orphan?”

“Yes. David chose to abstain from the vote. But he told the trustee to give you his proxy.”

“And you just want me to go to the meeting Thursday morning and vote my conscience.”

“That’s all we ask, Gee. Take the proxies not as a representative of the Families, but as Champion of the Forest.” They sat in silence as Gee mulled over the request. It seemed simple enough. It was unlikely that voting six hundred thousand shares would truly affect the outcome, but it seemed reasonable to do it.

“Wait! I’m supposed to shake trees. I can’t take time off to go to the meeting. Harvest!”

“Cameron LaCoe has volunteered to fill in for you, and his three cousins will work as catchers and entertainment. He was a shaker in high school and is happy to get back in a tree.” Judge Warren lowered his voice, even though it was only the two of them in the dining room at the back of Louie’s Café. “The truth is, this was all Cameron’s idea. He’s the one who found out SSG was going to give short notice for its annual shareholders’ meeting and uncovered the information about the orphans’ trusts. His grandfather talked him out of being the point man and after a little consideration, Cameron agreed that you were the right candidate.”

“Okay then. I’m in. I’ll get back to the Forest as quickly as I can after the meeting.”

“Good. Then I can give you this, which is the signed proxy from the trust funds for six hundred thousand shares. I suppose it’s a drop in the bucket of five million outstanding shares, but at least it is a voice. Now I can focus on the shit that will hit the fan in the morning,” he laughed.

“What?”

“I know what Karen is working on tonight,” Warren said. “I signed the lawsuits this afternoon.”

The story in Tuesday’s newspaper and the suit filed before Judge Warren by the LaCoes on behalf of Celia Eberhardt Ransom were the talk of the Forest. Everyone had an opinion and as Gee listened, he discovered that even those who had no apparent Family ties knew the story of Celia Eberhardt and her mother being shunned by the Roths. The prevailing opinion was that she should get her revenge on the Family and have her share of the wealth.

Five elders gathered at Benjamin Roth’s riverside home Tuesday evening. Jan Poltanys sat on Ben’s right with Leah Roth-Augello on her father’s left. Filling out the table were Heinz Nussbaum, Loren Cavanaugh, and David Lazorack. None was happy to be away from Harvest.

“What are you going to do, Benjamin?” Heinz demanded. The old man scowled back. Benjamin Roth hadn’t been out of his mansion in five years, exercising his right as the eldest to hold Family meetings in his home. He was a spindly old man who forced himself to use a cane and walk instead of being wheeled around in a chair. But he had turned over nearly all the Family holdings to his daughter’s management.

“Nekeyve!” the old man spat. “My sister raises her whoring head again even from the grave. This is her fault. If she had these papers as proof of our father’s treachery, she should have exposed them as soon as he was dead. Instead she let our children inherit her mess.” Benjamin scowled at the silent figures around the table and finally lit on his daughter. “If there is anything left of our Family’s honor, it is up to you to redeem it. But understand this. The young Ransom girl and Karen Weisman have as much family claim to our share of the Forest as your sons, Leah. Eventually, someone will have to eat the nut.”

Everyone was silent for a few moments.

“Well, Leah?” Before she could answer his question, Benjamin stood and tottered out of the room. “Good night. I am tired.”

“He’s right,” Leah sighed. “Our Family name is disgraced. The cloud has been over our head since the beginning. It was stupid of my grandfather to think he could keep it secret. I talked to cousin Karen Weisman before she wrote the article and filed the suits. As much as I did not want to agree with her, I couldn’t find fault with her reasoning. The disgrace was brought on by our common ancestor. Every Family has its skeletons, and you are all secretly praying that Karen or someone like her doesn’t discover and expose them. It is up to us and our children to set things right. I’ll offer to settle with Celia Eberhardt and her granddaughter.”

“Just like that? You seem pretty content to give up your family’s holdings based on a newspaper article,” Lazorack said.

“Oh, we’ll get verification, affidavits, and maybe even a DNA sample. But in the end, I’ll settle. What do you think she’ll need to be happy? A million? Two? A house. It’s a drop in the bucket compared to what we are about to achieve with the annexation.”

“She is one of us,” Heinz said softly. “Seven orphans, one from each family. Dee Poltanys, Coretta Sims, Henry Lazorack, even Pàl Savage, and I have all done what we could to see that Celia was treated respectfully. We all mourned together at Henry’s passing. I think Ewan Meagher would have married her if we hadn’t lost him in Viet Nam. I’ll talk to Dee and Coretta. I think I can speak for them and say we’ll commit to matching your contribution to Celia and Jo, Leah.”

“I’ll see that Coretta is compensated adequately to contribute. I know she’ll want to,” Loren Cavanaugh said softly.

“The same with Aunt Dee,” Jan Poltanys said. “She built that retirement home so she and Celia would have a place to live.”

Eyes turned to David Lazorack, who shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“Okay. You’re right. My father would have wanted this. In his memory, I’ll contribute, too,” David said.

The Meeting

The scandal among the Families, especially the Jews, fit Deacon’s plans just fine. They always thought they owned everything. He was reasonably certain that no one had time to pay attention to a corporate meeting with Harvest and the public relations hassle the Families would endure. The reporter had played right into his hand and public notice of the shareholders’ meeting had been buried on the last page of the newspaper just below an article on the use of hickory tree sap as a treatment for arthritis.

He was surprised at the number of people in the room when he walked in on Thursday morning. Old man Meagher was there, of course. He was a perennial pain in the ass, but he’d been mentally crippled when he ate the nut years ago. He owned ten shares of common stock, which was the minimum needed to speak at a meeting. Deacon knew he would speak and had one of the board members ready to escort the old man out of the room when he was deemed a nuisance.

It bothered Deacon that there were people he didn’t know at the meeting. SSG was a publicly held company, but there were fewer shareholders than in big corporations. Most of the stock in the company had been doled out as options to high-ranking employees and Deacon had a substantial portion himself. His seventy-five thousand shares represented one-and-a-half percent of the issued shares. The same number of shares of IBM stock would be worth twenty-five times more but wouldn’t be noticed in their one hundred fifty billion-share pool. Investing in a microcap stock had great advantages for a small investor.

He called the meeting to order, asking Pastor Beck to lead them in an invocation that God would guide the decision-making process for this great company.

“Minutes of the last annual meeting were approved by email, so we can proceed directly to the first item on our agenda,” Deacon said. “As you all know, the City of Rosebud Falls has manipulated a State law granting limited home rule and is making a land grab for South Rosebud. This is the area for which SSG holds the mineral rights. It has been the foundation of our business for a hundred and fifty years. We have filed for an injunction against the City to stop the proposed annexation, but our District Judge has delayed taking action. We are appealing, but to maintain our viability as a profitable corporation, we must turn our attention to campaigning against the annexation and encouraging the residents in South Rosebud to vote against it. This company policy, approved by the board, is hereby placed before the shareholders for a vote. All those in favor indicate by saying yes.” A normal, somewhat muffled vote of yes came from those who assumed this was just a formality. “Those opposed indicate by saying no.” There was a shout and loud chorus of voices raised in the negative. The voices were led in a chant of “No. No. No,” by none other than Collin Meagher.

“Are we going to start with this already, Collin?” Deacon sighed.

“I object, your dishonor!” Collin said. “This is a shareholder meeting and votes must be taken by share, not by voice. I demand a share count as is my right as a stockholder in this company.”

Deacon turned to his counsel and Matt just shrugged. “Might as well get it over with,” the lawyer said. “As soon as he realizes that he’s outvoted either way, he’ll give up on the other votes.”

“Very well, Collin, we will vote by share. You understand that after all shares present and accounted for are voted, the board will vote the remaining shares by perpetual proxy. If that is understood, I will begin. As chairman, I have no vote in a voice vote, but as a shareholder, I cast my seventy-five thousand shares in favor. Your turn, Collin.” Deacon looked at the old man. At one time he’d been a force to deal with, but after his heir disappeared, the old man had eaten a nut in hope of a heavenly revelation of the child’s location. What he got was an addled brain. It had been one of Deacon’s best moves.

“I see your seventy-five thousand and raise you five thousand opposed,” the old man snarled.

“It isn’t poker, Collin. You can only vote the shares you own.”

“And I own eighty thousand shares,” the old man said. “I have every certificate with me. I’ve been collecting them for fifteen years with every penny I could scrape up.” He held up a sheaf of stock certificates and shook them angrily at Deacon.

“That’s well and good,” the shocked chairman of the board responded, “but there are five million outstanding shares and that leaves four million eight hundred forty-five thousand shares yet to be voted.”

“I’m Levi Dunkel, and I hold the proxy for forty-seven thousand shares of Class A common stock,” said another man. “I join Mr. Meagher in casting my votes in opposition.”

“Let’s have order. If you have shares to vote, form a line at the microphone, state your name and your vote. Then bring your shares and proof of ownership or proxy to the secretary,” Deacon shouted at the room. “This is all a colossal waste of time.”

A dozen small shareholders rushed the microphone and declared their votes in favor of the company policy. It looked like a lot of people voting, but the total votes were far less than what had already been cast by the two rivals.

“My name is Rex Russell. I hold the Savage Family proxy for one million shares, plus proxies for sixty-two thousand other principals’ shares of Class A common stock. I vote in opposition.” He approached the secretary and presented his documentation. There was a loud round of applause as the opposition surged far ahead of those proposing a policy of non-annexation. At last, Gee approached the microphone.

“Excuse me. I’m not very experienced with this. My name is Gee. I mean George Evars. I am City Champion for Rosebud Falls. I hold proxies for six hundred thousand shares of Class B common stock that I vote in opposition to the policy.” There was applause once again as it began to look like there was a chance that the opposition would win. Rex Russell and Levi Dunkel were huddled together as Gee presented his credentials to the secretary.

“Very well, you’ve all had your fun. By my tally, that brings the current vote to one million seven hundred twenty thousand votes in opposition and one hundred twenty thousand votes in favor. Mr. Secretary what is the total number and position of the unvoted shares?” Deacon snarled.

“Mr. Chairman, the board holds perpetual proxy for all unvoted shares, that number being three million one hundred fifty-three thousand shares. The board votes those shares in favor.” The secretary sat down, leaving the room in stunned silence as Deacon grinned at them.

“Point of order, Mr. Chairman!” Rex Russell said from the microphone. Dunkel and Mr. Meagher flanked him.

“What is your point?”

“Before you announce the final tally, may I direct you to Article Five of the Articles of Incorporation, section two, Definition of Classes of Stock. I quote, ‘Class A Common shall have one vote per share. Class B Common shall have ten votes per share.’ Mr. Chairman, Mr. Evars voted six hundred thousand shares of Class B stock. He has, thereby, cast six million votes in opposition,” Rex finished.

“He what?!” Deacon glared at Matt who was frantically trying to find a copy of the company charter, articles, and bylaws.

“It seems, in fact, that Mr. Evars wields a clear majority of fifty-seven-point-seven percent of the total voteable shares. I move that to simplify and streamline the meeting, remaining questions be turned to him for decision.”

“This is preposterous!”

Gee sat in silence as he took in the disrupted meeting. He felt out of place. Out of time. He’d walked to the meeting through the Forest, staying on the edge until he had to cross into the area to be annexed where SSG headquarters was located. He’d felt detached since entering the building and fought to anchor himself.

You are not alone. I am holding you in my hand.

Gee recognized the presence in his mind. He wondered if he was having a flashback to the delirium he felt upon waking after eating the nut. The Grandfather Tree held him in its hand and peace began to flood through Gee’s mind.

“What will happen when you are cut for timber? How will I know this peace ever again?” Gee asked aloud.

Then you will hold me in your hand.

“You!” shouted Pastor Beck, leaning in to face Gee. “You spawn of Satan! You have had every opportunity to serve God’s higher purpose, but instead you reject his grace at every turning. You subvert his message and buck against the traces when he bids you yield to him. Now like Satan before you, you shall be cast from the heights of glory to find your soul in the lowest levels of perdition, there to be gnawed upon by demons for all eternity. You may think you are exalted, but you shall fall.”

“That’s encouraging,” Gee sighed. “As long as I don’t have to listen to you.”

“You’ll have to leave now, Preacher,” Rex said as the other major players of what had been the opposition moved to talk to Gee.

“I am a stockholder and have every right to be in this meeting,” Beck declared.

“Fine. Sit down and shut up. This is no longer the party you thought you were attending.” Rex turned to Gee as the other lawyer pushed the preacher aside. “Mr. Evars, you gave us an unexpected boon today. We planned to come in and make a statement that we were here and would be challenging the management of the company. We’d even planned a hostile takeover if necessary. You made that unnecessary. The Savage Family wants to thank you.”

“Wayne?”

“He’s one. But it seems that you now control SSG by proxy. While Carl Stewart is trying to put his ducks in a row, we thought we’d better consult with you as to your goals,” Rex said.

“I don’t have any. I was given these proxies and told to vote my conscience on behalf of the Forest. I did not even know what was on the agenda, nor that my proxies controlled the majority of the votes,” Gee said. “I just want to protect the Forest.”

“Then let’s try to bring our goals in line with yours so we can present a united front. I don’t think that’s going to be difficult. Our goal is also protecting the Forest, but our strategy is to clean house here at SSG and make sure it is not standing in the way of annexation. The company doesn’t have a vote in the general election, but it does have a vote in the Forest management, supposedly exercised on behalf of the Savage Family. We have the opportunity to move quickly where we thought we would have to take weeks or maybe months. We’d like to nominate a new board of directors and elect them with your vote. Of course, you would be on it.”

“No. I have no interest or desire to be on the board of directors. Let’s see who else is on your list.”

By the end of the annual meeting, Deacon Stewart was no longer Chairman of the Board and CEO of Savage Sand and Gravel.

Carl Stewart was unhappy about how the meeting had progressed. No one had ever voted the trust fund shares that had so much hidden power. As far as he knew, the six different trusts did nothing but collect the modest dividends on the shares and reinvest them. Perhaps there was a distribution, but after the check was delivered to the trusts, there was no further information available. No one even knew who the beneficiaries were.

As he thought about what he and his worthless corporate counsel had missed, he began to smile. If he had missed something so significant, what had the rabble who took over the company missed? The smile became a chuckle.

“What can you be so happy about?” Matt asked as they headed to their luxurious former offices. No one had followed them, so he anticipated purging his files before he was escorted out of the company. That at least might protect them from prosecution.

“Oh, I just realized,” Deacon said to his co-conspirator, “I’m about to become a very wealthy man.”

Best Man

The nut harvest was slowing down and the party was spreading through the Forest and along the river. Most of the trees left to pick were younger and took less time to shake with teams working closer to each other than in the more mature parts of the Forest. As fewer shaker crews were needed, people were reassigned to sweep the Forest for deadwood and to follow the foresters gathering pruned limbs.

Tourists arrived, booking all the available motel rooms and the area campgrounds. Part of the attraction was the opportunity to participate in gathering the poisonous nuts—to actually get to touch them. Visitors who did not participate in the ‘gleaning’ were confined to the marked paths through the Forest. Those who volunteered were issued a one-peck basket and given a full orientation on the importance of not letting any of the toxic nuts get into unwary hands. When a volunteer filled a basket with nuts gleaned from areas that had already been picked, he or she was given a free pass for the banquet party on Saturday night.

No matter how many warnings were issued, there were reports of people ingesting the nut meat. Generally, paramedics were able to reach the stupid person in time to administer an antidote and transfer him or her to the hospital. Recovery was accompanied by misdemeanor charges.

Shakers and crew foremen who were no longer picking trees joined the foresters to help control the masses moving through the Forest and to see that no Forest products left with the visitors.

Thursday night, booths and displays were set up in the park on both sides of the river. Furniture, beads, lotions, bath salts, coffee, smoked meats, craft projects, stains, t-shirts, toys, and handcrafts were displayed. Vendors who had genuine rose hickory products of any sort had an official Rosebud Falls flag on their booths. But many more regional craftsmen gathered to sell artwork, glassware, pottery, and jewelry, even if not made from the local hickory. As Harvest neared its end, the festival grew. In addition, magic acts, music, dancing, and other forms of social entertainment were available all along the river.

“Only Friday and Saturday to go,” Jonathon said as he walked with Gee and Coretta Sims toward the park Thursday evening. A bouncing and excited Jessie Sims ran to meet her fiancé.