Chapter 23

It was almost six weeks after we learned about Coinmark's ownership, when the first incident occurred.

An arson fire was started at the Lucas Company, behind the area where Rob had originally had his storage yard. Someone had drilled through the back wall and poured in a whole bunch of gasoline.

Luckily, the area they drilled through was sprinklered, and fire alarmed, and the damage from the fire didn't impact too much on the baking areas, which were located more to the front of the building. There was a four day delay in getting back into production though, but Virginia just added a third shift for more oven time at the new plant, and our production remained enough to meet our current needs.

Had we already been at capacity with both plants though, we'd have had serious difficulty with keeping up with demand.

A week later, one of our drivers was deliberately forced off the road, and down an embankment. He didn't have any serious injuries, but the double trailer overturned, and it could have been far more serious than it was.

Two days after that, a driver was shot at, with four bullets hitting his cab compartment. He wasn't wounded, but he was made afraid enough to quit his job.

Right after that incident, my father started receiving phone calls. All the calls were pretty similar, advising him to sell off the vending business, if he ever got the opportunity to do so, and promising that more incidents would occur, if he didn't listen to their good advice.

We were all home for the weekend when Dad told us what had been going on. We knew about the fire, and about our driver being forced off the road, but not about the shooting incident, or the phone threats Dad had gotten.

Apparently, Mama hadn't known about the phone calls either, and her first reaction was to panic. She told Dad he needed to sell as soon as possible. She was mostly worried about someone coming after the family, especially the babies.

We got very little accomplished that weekend, other than trying to calm Mama back down. Her reaction actually prevented us from profitably using the time we had, to think, or to come up with a strategy for trying to defend ourselves.

The next week, while all of us were safely back in Lawrence, Uncle Bunny's house was burnt to the ground, and eight children's dolls were left lined up in the driveway.

It was a warning that was simply unmistakeable. When Dad called me to tell me what had happened, I reacted so violently to the news that I made myself physically ill.

In the past, I would have become unhinged by this happening. I would have withdrawn into my own mind. I know this, because that was what I started to do. Joyce prevented it.

"Kenny, they'll kill our babies if we don't stop them." She was livid in her anger. Her face was red, and the look on it it was scary. Up until that point, fighting back hadn't even occurred to me. I didn't want any of our people hurt, let alone any members of my own family, especially my children.

"Joyce, you can't fight against the kind of people who would do something like that. It's only a business. It isn't worth us dying over."

"What is worth it then? If you let them take away the vending business, that won't stop them. They won't quit until they've taken everything we have. They don't respect weakness. They'll just keep pushing, until we end up giving them everything."

I wasn't convinced by what she said, but I at least understood that I had too much responsibility to allow myself to withdraw. My family needed me, and my children depended on me to protect their safety.

I got up and went to get a few towels to clean up the mess I'd made on the living room carpet. When I returned, Joyce, Emily, and Brenda were kneeling down cleaning things with some paper towels they had brought from the kitchen. Seeing them there like that, on their knees, cleaning up my vomit, I knew that Joyce's words made sense.

We were all under attack, and the attacks wouldn't end until they got what they wanted, or ended up understanding that getting it would cost them more than they were willing to pay.

I went into my home office and went to find that report on Mr. Conforte that the detective had prepared for my Dad. I wondered if I shouldn't try to contact Terry Gorsen, just to see if this was his father making all this trouble for us. Somewhere, in one of my dresser drawers at Mama's house, I had the phone number for his house in Chicago. He'd given it to me when he'd graduated, telling me to call him if I was ever going to be out his way. He promised to take me out and show me a really good time if I called.

I called Gerta and described the folder I kept all that kind of information in, and asked her to look for a sheet of paper that had Terry Gorsen's name and phone number on it. I told her where I thought I'd left it, and she told me she'd look and then phone me back.

"Kenny, I found the number. do you have a pencil or a pen?"

"Sure, go ahead." Gerta read off the number, and then described the other information on the paper. I wrote down Terry's address as well, thanking Gerta for finding it for me. After I hung up, I sat there staring at Terry's name, address and phone number. Terry and I had always gotten along well enough. If not friends, we were at least on friendly terms. If his father was the man behind all the trouble we were now having, I didn't think there was anything Terry would do, or could do, to help me. At best, he'd be someone I could use to communicate with his father. I sat there for awhile, and then, I picked up my phone.

"Hi, Terry, this is Kenny Parsons, from Clement Academy. How are you doing?"

"Parsons? This is a bolt out of the blue. How did you get this number? Where you calling from?"

"You gave it to me when you graduated. You told me to call you if I was ever going to be in Chicago."

"That's right, I did. That was awhile ago though. Your call surprised me. Are you in town now? You want me to get you set up with someone?"

"No, I'm in Lawrence, at the University here, K. U.? I'm calling to ask you if Frederico Conforte is your father, Terry?" There was a long pause on the other end of the line. For a moment, I was afraid Terry had disconnected from me.

"My father's name is Joseph, Kenny, Joseph Gorsen. He doesn't use any other name now. Why were you asking me about that name?"

"There's a company named Coinmark, and he's connected with that."

"We all are. That's the company I work for now. What's the matter, Kenny, you don't like a little competition?"

"I don't mind competition, Terry. Competition is good. It keeps everyone on their toes. What I don't like is people burning down my house, or setting fire to one of our plants. I also don't like them shooting at our drivers, or running them off the road."

"And you think either me or my father, we had something to do with all of that?" Terry's voice had dropped, his tone became threatening as he asked his question.

"That's why I'm calling, Terry. I wanted to first make sure that you knew the Lucas Company was one of ours."

"Yeah, I knew already. So what? That doesn't mean we did any of that stuff you're talking about. I don't like people pointing fingers at me, not without them having lots of proof first, Kenny."

"My wife and kids could have been in that house, Terry."

"That don't mean nothing to me, Parsons. I told you it wasn't a problem I know anything about. Don't start accusing me of stuff, especially if you can't back it up with some proof."

"Okay, Terry. I'm just glad to find out this wasn't just a coincidental mistake on your part, that you really did set out with the intention to do me and my family harm. I might have felt bad if I'd had any doubts about it."

"Are you threatening me, Parsons? If you are, it's a big mistake. I don't respond well to being threatened. You have no idea who it is you're threatening either."

"I think I have a pretty good idea, Terry. If even one more little incident happens, to my family, or any of our property, I'll know who to come looking for. This is something personal now, Terry."

"Parsons, you always were a stupid guy. Threatening me is worse than stupid. Do you think I'm like Jerry or Nigel? You can't go around telling me what you think I better do. Even if I haven't done anything to you yet, I would have to do something now, just to show you what a huge mistake you just made." I could hear the disdain in his voice, the contempt he had for anyone he thought weaker than him.

Perhaps, in his world, the threat was enough to deter others from opposing his will. It might have been enough in our world too, if we had only had to worry about ourselves, and our own interests. We had thousands of employees, most of them with families to support. We had an obligation to them, enough of one that we couldn't just cut and run. While he hadn't admitted anything, other than identifying his father for me, and confirming the Coinmark connection, Terry had shown, by his whole attitude, that he and his family were capable of stooping to those kind of tactics currently being used against us.

I phoned my father at the plant, telling him of the connection between Terry and I, and the connection between Terry's family and Coinmark. My father had me tell him all I knew about Terry and his family. I didn't know much, just the same rumors I'd heard when I first started at the Academy, and some of the stories Terry told about his weekends away from school with women his father had arranged for him.

"Kenny, it might have been a mistake to provoke him like you did. People of his ilk find it difficult to not take up anything they perceive as a challenge. If he feels threatened, he'll only take further action to attempt to make us back away, to concede the business to him. It is the only leverage he has. They know they can't compete in an honest business climate."

"I wanted to see if I could stop him before someone ends up getting killed."

"That is their arena, Kenny. You never contest with an opponent on their terms. Threats and violence are their stock in trade. Intimidation and fear are the weapons they prefer. They would never be made afraid, or to retreat, because of any threat we might make. We will take the information we've developed, and put it into the hands of the legal authorities. Let them handle it from there."

I didn't protest much, but that wasn't because I thought he was correct. I knew he would do what he thought was best, but I had little confidence that it would work.

Mama had been on the telephone all morning I later found out. She wasn't like me, acting in fear and anger, and she wasn't like my Dad, believing that the legal system stood ready and able to protect us from people like Terry and his father. Mama was a hard realist. She was on the phone speaking with politicians and their aides. She was stirring up a different kind of trouble for Frederico Conforte, although she had no idea, at the time, that this was the name of the person causing all the trouble.