Mr. Rogers' Research
Chapter 63

Copyright© 2018 by MysteryWriter

Harris assoc producer
Eddie our mechanic in a van
Tory Simpson state cop in tv script.
Shelly simpso her daughter
uniform cops harold older one
burke younger one


I hadn’t planned on a three week holiday from work of any kind, but that was how it worked out. Work came looking for me on the second week of my holiday when Wilkes of the FBI called me. I chose to ignore him. He threatened to have me arrested. He didn’t know that I had the last dying declaration of Agent Gray Stone in which he told me on tape that abut the ‘killing Ed Rogers plan’ that it was sanctioned by the FBI. Since I had the insurance tape I knew we were going to be at a stalemate. Yes, I got Hammer killed, but the FBI plan tried to execute me. Hammer needed it I didn’t. Well I admit that was just my opinion. My card kinda trumped his card. Even if I went to trial for killing Hammer, I wasn’t sure a jury would convict me.

Week four of my vacation from the Durham County Co-op, started with a whimper, but not from me. After Mikah and I returned from out first walk of that Monday morning, Janet showed up on my deck where Mikah and I sat. I was drinking my first and favorite coffee of the day, when Janet showed up in a different car.

“Bought yourself a new car?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Janet said simply.

“So what brings you to the Ghetto?” I asked.

“This isn’t the Ghetto. I live in the Ghetto,” Janet suggested.

“The question still applies. What can I do for you?” I asked.

“Durham Co-op has lost faith in me,” she said with her eyes running tears.

“I’m sorry to hear that. You do know that they are a little sleazy?” I asked.

“Yeah, I kinda did. Anyway they are pulling their offer to buy the script for the first episode,” which means they pay to make a TV movie of our pilot script.” She said

“Well we have been paid for it,” I said.

“Yeah for the Pilot, but I have written the first episodes script,” she said.

“We have a contract for four scripts. Just let our lawyer work it out,” I said.

“If it goes to court Durham’s defense is that our scrip was sub par, which will ruin me,” she said.

“I’m so glad that you didn’t say ruin us, since I had nothing to do with the script,” I replied.

“They will only honor the rest of our contract, if you are part of the deal going forward,” she said.

“Not interested,” I replied. “You wanted to go on your own, so now you are on your own. Work it out. Being the boss is all about problem solving.”

The three of us sat on the deck, in the sun, and ignored each other for about ten minutes until her phone rang. It turned out to be Master J checking up on Janet. I had a feeling from her tone that there was some serious domination issues in play between them. My conclusion was finally, not my business.

I was actually happy when she left. Her problem was with Durham Artist Co-op, but mine wasn’t. I had the FBI coming for me, or so they said. I really wanted a hobby some thing that would get me away from home and unavailable for any of them. I had always thought of myself as the artistic type, even though I had never shown any talent for anything.

I waited patently for something to happen. When it didn’t, I moved on to trying to make something happen. When that didn’t work, I started to slip into a dark place. I was actually looking forward to doing battle with the FBI. Even that didn’t happen, I just slipped farther and farther inside that dark place. Not even Thia could help me out of my depression, since she was dealing with her on demons. Most likely it’s in the genes, I thought.

Yet another associate producer from the Durham Co-op came knocking at my door. Well to be honest he called my cell phone. “Mr. Rogers my name is Harris. I’m in town dealing with you former partner Janet. I understand she is upset that we refused her script. It is my understanding that you did the research, but did not work on the script?” it wasn’t really a question, but I answer anyway.

“That is true,” I said.

“Mr Rogers, have you ever heard of a script doctor?” he asked.

“No I haven’t,” I replied.

“How about meeting me for coffee, so that we can talk about it. That is, if Janet hasn’t poisoned the waters,” Harris suggested.

“Sure, we can talk,” I agreed. “The best place for coffee and a chat is the local McDonalds.” The arrangement was for an hour later, since he was going to see Janet first. “Be careful Harris, she has been studying MMA, and she is pissed.”

“Yes I know. I’m bearing an olive branch,” he said.

Good luck with that, I thought. I continued to do what I had done before the call. Wallow in my discontment with my life. I knew it was time to do something. I decided, before I even knew what it entailed, to try out the roll of script doctor. Anything to get a break from the deep dark depression. This job, if he offered me a job, might be better than the psychologist that Thia was trying to push on me.

I had been driving the Metro PU since Eddie got it repaired. John had bought the new Honda so he didn’t miss it at all. It just suited me better than the equally small Accent. Mikah rode in the passenger seat. She couldn’t stretch out. but I didn’t plan to leave her in the car long either. The point is that I drove the Metro to McDonalds to meet Harris. Mikah walked along the grass stripe at the edge of the parking area with me a few minutes, then I locked her back in the car.

“You must be Ed,” the man who appeared to be just out of college said. I made that judgment call based on his looking the same age as my high school grad grandson. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, even though he wasn’t dressed much like a TV producer.

That’s me, what can I do for you?” I asked. I immediately felt more engaged in the conversation than I had any other conversations lately. I felt involved even though I had no idea what he wanted me to do.

 
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