Chapter 11

Wednesday Morning,

Helen was up early again, fixing breakfast for at least eight. Mark had stayed home last night; James had come over (again) to spend time with Carol. And he ended up with Nancy and Carol. Peter came over with the girls earlier in the day and spent the evening with Elizabeth. Liz was absolutely radiant and had gone from highs’ to lows and back during the evening. It was the same thing that Helen had gone through on Sunday. When Candy had to be the evil den mother and chase everyone out at 10:00 to secure the doors, everyone had cried and complained. Peter promised to come back the following evening and stay the night. James said he had to work on a late evening client and was not going to be able to come this evening. Carol had raised her eyebrows at that, but said nothing. Helen thought that was noticeable.

Helen sighed while stirring onions, peppers and mushrooms in the pan. She and Mark had a long talk on Sunday about attendance and time away from home. With the girls present, she had been able to wrap up a lot of good byes and the emotional angst that went with that. But she also realized that she and Mark were de-facto separated now. This was like military service of a sort. Subject to an end at any time. It was a different situation from any she had studied.

“I thought I smelled something good,” Carol said as she was at the bottom of the stairs.” Need any help?”

“Not really, just simmering these to put into omelets later. I made fresh coffee.”

“Can we talk?” Carol said, coming closer.

“Get the coffee, let’s go.”

“Helen, you said you were a therapist when we met at the party at Mary’s. What did you specialize in?”

“Abnormal behavior. I guess for this place it fits,” Helen said with a laugh.

“What about grief management?” Carol asked.

“You worried about James after?”

‘Well, I am a little worried about James now. After is not my problem.”

“Okay. Talk to aunt Helen.”

“Okay. James and I were swingers before. Almost everyone has to be with the population pressure today. We have friends and did things and we were always a couple. But now we have a situation where I am not dead, but I might as well be. Sort of like a terminal illness confined to a hospital. We can still fuck, but he can’t be expected to be here all the time. He has a home to go to. So what do I do? How can I feel?”

“I mean,” Carol, continued, “we are all in the same bucket except Candy and Nancy. Candy is too young and Nancy didn’t land a relationship that was permanent, but the three of us did. So did Margaret but she doesn’t count.”

“True. Her situation is different. Fortunately for us.”

“Why do you say that?” Carol asked, sipping her coffee.

“I have known Margaret since college. We were both in the same house. Both of us were Humanities majors. I can assure you that if she weren’t exempted she would not have been able to think outside the box about this situation for me. And she would not have primed David to do it as well. In fact, this whole situation is a mass of lucky exceptions. And I don’t know how long it will last. I know that I am going to have to let Mark go, and he will have to do the same with me.”

“Yes, but that is the complication,” Carol interrupted. “Legally, if we die, our spouse inherits. I love James, but he is very tight with the money. And patience is not his strong point. Nancy is amusing him now. And Candy is candy. But sooner rather than later he will be chafing to get this over with so he can move on with plans of his own.”

“Divorce?” Helen asked.

“Not on your life. That means dividing the wealth. James won’t do that and I don’t want to divorce him. We worked our asses off to build things and I am a little pissed I won’t be there to enjoy it. But I also love him too much to deprive him of it.”

“I see. It’s complicated. Living Trust?”

“We have one. But I put a catch into it for as long as I was sane to have full informed consent on any and all transactions. He has the same protection.”

“That is why lawyers should never get married,” Helen laughed.

“No. That is why they should never get divorced,” Carol answered.

“But you see an idea, or you would not have started this conversation,” Helen said to Carol while sipping her coffee.

“Margaret said you were the smart one. There is something that would work in the mean time. If I were classified as insane, James would be able to manage all elements without any issue. That would take the pressure off and give him the freedom I think he needs.”

“Carol, if you were classified as insane, we would have to term you immediately. We don’t do long-term housing for insane selectees. In fact, those who are in the lottery who are selected are moved during that day. Remember Jones vs. Michigan?”

“Yes, but David would not do that pre-emptively. Would he?”

“He would have no choice. You would have to go to a hospital for classification. Then you would be checked against selectees, and then it’s ‘tits in the garbage and ass on the grill’.”

“So that does not work?”

“Nope. You are the legal expert. You tell me. I know the medical field a bit. But here is the real trouble. How firm is your relationship with your husband?”

“I love him and he loves me. I just know that pretty soon he is going to say that enough if enough. He will see the emotional wear and tear on the girls and think of some legal action to compel David to term me and send a Death Certificate. And if David refuses James will petition to have me relocated to someone who will.”

“Do you think he will start that before the first thirty days are up?” Helen asked.

“No. But after six months I am sure he will”

“Well, we have to get specific acceptance at ninety days from the MAB. There have been no requests for this in the last eight years and none from Findlay ever. So you may be worrying about a moot point. I think you need to worry about something else a little closer to home.”

“What?” Carol asked.

“Emotional abandonment. Physical Abandonment. How are you going to cope with the interim process while we are alive but here? He is going to start to come over less and less. And that is going to be a slow disconnect for you. How are you going to cope with that? How are we all?”

“I guess I don’t want to think about that, because it is tactical. If I think long-term and worry about that, I don’t have to see the nose in front of my face,” Carol said with a sad smile.

“I wish I could help you there. I can’t help myself,” Helen said. “Mark and I had a long talk about it. I was supposed to go with the mob on Monday, but things got delayed. Tuesday came but we had intake and then things just got to be so much fun I got sidestepped. Now with this thing in the news it may be longer. And I don’t know how long I want it to go on. I am not sure but that some day I won’t ask Candy to take me down the hall all the way,” Helen said.

“Don’t you want to do something different?” Carol asked.

“We all do. But I have to tell you; I think that Candy and Margaret are great at what they do. The surprise element is missing for us. But they sure do seem competent. And it is all over in a couple of minutes. And I already gave the throat cutting minx permission to fuck my husband. I don’t think Mark will do it but it but I will tell him it is okay.”

“I would do the same. But I don’t think James will ever come back here afterwards. Hell, I am wondering if he will keep coming now.”

“I think he is better than you think he is.” Helen replied.

“Okay. Enough of this. On to more cheerful subjects. What thing in the news were you talking about?”

“Evening news showed our truck delivering to H&S. Now we have a news article that Carla put a lot of stuff in her Blog about us. And the local news has jumped all over it.”

“Really? What do you mean?” Carol asked.

“Well, Carla was here yesterday. Her dad sent her in here rather than to Myers and Hancock, and we showed her how to do pre-reporting assignment. So she selected to come here today or Friday. Candy and I got her through the questionnaire and finished the intake, and then Candy took her down to Barbara for blood and urine, just pre-screening stuff. Turns out she was pregnant, but Barbara could not tell what sex because she was not far enough along. So she sent her home for two weeks to come back and be re-screened. So she went home and posted a blog that makes us look like a resort. And the morning news is catching it up.”

“Holy cow. What do you think David is going to say about that?”

“I don’t know, but I think we will all find out.”

“What do you think that means for us?” Carol asked.

“Time will tell.”

What David thought, as he looked at over two hundred e-mails and messages, was that all hell had broken loose. The Assignment and Selection board, the Department of Health, and USDA calls were all asking that he call during normal business hours. The call from H&S was a little more urgent. Max Burke wanted a call at 8 AM. And it seemed that almost every news media in the area wanted to talk with him too.

But that amounted to twenty calls. The other one hundred eighty were from individual private numbers. What was this all about?

“Honey, I think I want you to come in today. I think I am going to need all the help I can get. And I think I need more phones.”

David called the office from the parking lot at seven forty-five, and was buzzed in by Candy. Catching James on the way out, he asked how things were.

“Great,” James said. “ In fact, a lot better than I had ever hoped when this started last Monday. David, I can’t thank you enough.”

“Well, I was just happy that things worked to all of our advantage.”

“I have been wanting to ask you something. How long do you mean to have Carol stay with you?”

“That is pretty much up to Carol at this point. I think that we have more than enough to keep her busy and happy.”

“If there are any incidental expenses, or anything you need that I can help with, please let me know. I don’t want you to suffer in any way for keeping Carol. We will make adjustments. But it is important for me to tell you that I thank you for every day.”

“Sure, no problem.”

Walking to the break-room following the now familiar smell of breakfast, David was thinking that he needed to get here earlier. “Helen, what time do you guys start cooking around here?” he asked.

“We started the coffee klatches at about seven, I guess.”

“Good. Let me know what we have to bring in to keep things going here. Don’t want my people hungry.”

Helen was already setting up a plate, while Candy was busy putting dishes away. There was no sign of Elizabeth or Nancy. He assumed they were upstairs.

“Boss,” Candy said from the dishwasher, “I think we need some more computers in the reception room.”

“You reading my mind again?” David asked.

“No. I just looked at the messages on the phone from last night and this morning. One hundred and twenty-two.”

“Shit. Okay. Margaret, get dressed. We need four portables for the reception room. Extra-long duration on the batteries.

“I don’t know anything about what you need.”

“Check with Candy and Liz, I guess. See what they think we need and buy four of them.”

“Okay,” Margaret said while getting back into her pants suit. “I wonder what is going on?”

“Candy, do you have the portable phone for the second dial-in number?”

“Yes, but it doesn’t work after 8 o’clock.”

“I’ll shut that off. When Margaret gets to the store, help her with what we need in a portable for use in intake.”

“Sure, boss.”

“Helen, if you can get one of the others to help you look at the phone calls and see what they are about, and track the numbers for call back, that would help.”

And David took his plate, his coffee and went into his office to see what the heck was going on.

The first call was Max at H&S. That call started explosively.

“Findlay, what the hell are you doing?” Max asked.

“Max, what’s wrong?”

“Merle just called me and said to tell you that he was not sending any more stock over to you if you were the last place on earth and the only storage was the Hilton.”

“What the heck is wrong?”

“Did you see the news last night?” Max asked.

“No, I was fucking my wife. Why? What happened?” David asked in response.

“Did you tell some reporter that you were selling stock to us because we couldn’t do our own business?”

“No. I told a reporter that we were servicing some of your own stock while you were doing the clean up. And that the stock we sent back was exactly what you sent us.”

“Findlay, did you screw me?”

“Nope. I sent you one prime for one prime. Already spitted and mounted. And I sent you the commish on the male child. And I sent you four choices for two choices to make up the weight difference between what we had. And gave you discount on storage. I can back that up in court.”

“Okay, I believe you. And you got the assignment right. But what you told that reporter, are you sure?”

“Sure am. Why?”

“Cause she is saying that the implication is that you are selling pet food as human through our store.”

“Max, I have USDA stickers on everything that went onto that truck. With paperwork to match. And I think you know what will happen if you drag my USDA inspector into this.”

“Yeah. That would probably stand up. Listen, there is a shit storm running around and you might want to tidy up. And maybe we can do business again later. But for now, I got to find some other way.”

“Okay. We will see how things work out. No hard feelings. Just business.”

“Yeah. Just business. “Max said has he hung up. The news reporter really had not said anything different from what David had. But on top of the FDA and other stuff, it might be a good idea to just say “No” to the MAB for a while. Tell them he could not process without getting these FDA pricks out of his shop. Maybe David was smart for staying in pet food.

Well, David thought, Easy come easy go. Good thing I got commitment to help with support for Carol and Helen. My guys will miss the overtime but what the hell.

“Boss,” Candy said from the doorway. “We have to talk. I think we have a situation.”

Assignment Blues

David grabbed his portable communicator and terminal and followed Candy into the reception area. There was a line outside the door waiting for Findlay Processing to open up. Almost thirty women were outside, standing around, talking and waiting. And it was only 8:15.

“Open up,” David said. “Check the registry and see who are ours and then who are the rest.”

“Boss, There are a hundred and thirty messages on the phone from women who want to reassign to here from H&S and M&H. And a there’s news team outside too,” Candy said.

“Shit. Call Margaret and tell her to pick up extra sodas, and bring all the stuff we have down here. Get the guys to help. We will delay start for an hour while we get things straightened out. H&S is not sending anyone so I don’t think it will keep us too late.”

Carol came into the reception room and asked, “What do you need from me?”

“Intakes. We have lots of intakes. And phone calls. Take over my office, you and Liz and send Nancy here to help with intakes here. Please?”

“Sure, boss,” Carol replied. So this was what the outcome was of last night’s news story.

“Boss, “Candy said,” There is a news lady here banging on the door.”

“I will take care of it,” David said. The door was on private property. The public street was ten feet back from the building with an ornamental fence as a boundary marker. David had dealt with this during the protest demonstrations eight years ago, and he knew what to say.

Opening the door to the crowd, David said in a loud voice “Those of you who have actual business with this company, may please enter. Those of you who represent the media have no business with this company at this time without an appointment and if you are on the property inside of the ornamental fence you are trespassing.”

“Mr. Findlay? Grace Miller of CWBC News”

“Grace, are you here to be processed?” David asked.

“Not today,” Grace responded smoothly turning around to the camera to get into the picture and try to position David in front of the camera.

“Well, so you are trespassing. And you are on camera. And if you remain I will press charges. I have nothing more to say.”

“But, Mr. Findlay,” Grace tried to continue.

“Not one more word. Good day to you.”

As David watched Grace and her news camera move back to the street blocking the entrance of this facility, David triggered the alarm to the police. Let them handle this, he thought.

Meanwhile, about a dozen of the women around the front of the building came past Grace and around David and into reception where Helen and Candy greeted them. Seeing them settling down David moved away from the door and watched as Candy began distribution of intake forms. Seeing Nancy come in, and Helen gesture her toward the other desk, David went over to give her his take on the situation.

“I don’t know what this is, but help get the intake forms filled out. If we have reassignment requests, sit down with Helen and have her show you how to do them through the MAB if they have been selected. If they have not, we will take it from there.”

Ten minutes later, two CPD officers came through the door to request the copy of the film of the news team’s activities in front of his business. The news team had moved to the corner and was no longer blocking any access by this time.

After giving the officers a copy of the capture from his security system, David signed the blocking doors complaint. It would not result in much, as the news team would have legal representation. But it would keep them from blocking his doors.

Turning to Candy who was moving from table to table, David said quietly “Get me a count from Helen and Nancy when they have a break of who are ours and what is going on here. I am going to the office and see what Carol and Liz are getting. Don’t start processing until we have time to talk.”

“Okay, boss.”

Walking into his office David saw both Liz and Carol on the phone. Carol was on David’s computer doing something, while Nancy was taking notes and numbers. After a moment they both stopped.

“Okay,” Elizabeth said. “Out of my forty phone calls, I have twenty-nine assigned tomorrow and Friday requesting to change to here. I sent them the link to make assignment change. Four are due today and are real scared and want to come here directly. Seven are in the lottery and want to make pre-selection and also want to come in to talk about special handling. Those I scheduled for tomorrow.”

“My results are the same,” Carol said. “I told the ones due today that we probably could not help them at all, and that they should call the MAB directly to request re-assignment. Those were the ones in a panic. Apparently the MAB lines are all jammed. What caused all of this boss?”

“I don’t know.”

Margaret in the meantime was at the electronics emporium and had contacted Candy on the private line. She had picked out the right portables to bring back, and was in line to pay for them when she saw the news program above the head of the cashier.

“Hello. I am here at Findley Processing, where I am interviewing women who are coming here today to talk about their chances of getting into Findlay’s for processing instead of their assigned location. The common thread with all of these women is the Blog last night by Carla Davenport, who was sent home because the sex of her pregnancy was not clear. She wrote that, “At Findley, they say you are human until you are dead. And that is how they treat you.” This is a direct quote, ladies and gentlemen.

Ms. Davis, Is that why you are here?”

The camera moved to include a pleasant-looking blonde woman in her late 20s. She looked directly into the camera and said, “I don’t want to be treated like some animal. I was selected and my report date is Friday, and I don’t want to be treated like some suspect by a bunch of drop-out thugs who couldn’t qualify for airport security. I want some dignity and respect. I know I have to go, but I want to go with some dignity.”

“There you have it, ladies and gentlemen, a description of what people are looking for here at Findlay. We tried to contact Findlay processing earlier but they have not returned our calls. Respecting the rights of passage of these women, we are not intending to approach Findley for any further comment. We would like to have some time later, however, to get their perspective on why these women are trusting their processing to this small business which has had no real name in the human meat market. Back to you, Charles.”

“Wow. A place where women want to get into to die. That is a different turn of events,” the talking head said after the studio cut back to him. “This story was initially brought about as a result of our cameras seeing what appeared to be processed meat being delivered to H&S’s flagship meat market by Findley’s freezer truck late yesterday. Our reporter got this commentary from Findley when they called the owner, David Findley. This is what he had to say.

“This was a normal business transaction. We were simply processing those people that H&S was not able to accommodate today due to their clean-up.” But based on what we are seeing here today, we cannot help but wonder if something else is going on.”

Holy Shit, Margaret thought. This is going to have fall out. Thinking about the impact this would have, Margaret ordered two additional portables. Everyone was going to be running around a lot.

Chris, Marty, Gus and Carl were all sitting to breakfast, served by Candy who was moving food around like the waitress she had been. Getting groped occasionally was not upsetting at all at this point. In fact, she had propositioned Carl twice and he had turned her down, begging age and lack of energy. “Now don’t make that proposition later today, missy. If I have the energy, and you have the time, we will have the connection. If David doesn’t mind.”

David, overhearing this, came in and said “Carl, I was told that there would be new rules here. And when Margaret gets back I expect that she and the ladies will tell us what they are. In the meantime, it is 9:00 and we probably will have a few to start in about fifteen minutes. I have no idea how many we will process today, but if things go as they are looking, we may have to work full shift on Saturday and possibly tomorrow. I am not sure what the heck is going on, but our allocation and planning just got shot to hell. And some of that stock out there is not going to be pet food. There are a half dozen primes and a choice out there. I am going to have to find buyers. Which means different boxes.”

“Isn’t success a pain in the ass?” Carl said. “David, I think I know what happened. Davenport’s daughter posted a Blog last night and it may have been viral.”

“Really? What did she say?”

“Check it out.

At that time, Elizabeth came in and said “David, I think I know what has happened. I found -”

“A blog that went viral?” David finished for her.

“How did you know?”

“I didn’t. Carl just told me. I think no good deed goes unpunished. Let’s see this.”

“You go see it. I have interviews to do and I can’t get through to the MAB. I have twelve women asking if they can just stay here instead of going anywhere else. Carol and I are both going out front and help try and keep order with the others.”

“Give me their initial assignment sheets and I will see what I can do,” David said. “And let me know what else you get from the phone.”

David went to his desk with eight from H&S and four from M&H. His first call was to Max.

“Burke. David here. How would you like a favor?”

“What are you offering, David?”

“I have eight of yours here. Do you want me to pop them for you and send them over? Or send them over on the hoof?”

“David, you are killing me. Why are they there?”

“I don’t know. They came in here like kittens. What do you want me to do? If I pop them here, I can guarantee honest meat grading and no taint. I will have Carl sign off on the carcasses and send them to you graded. If they are Choice, I will even spit them cold for you. You just pick them up on your transport. Or we can meet somewhere in the middle and transfer if you don’t want to come here.”

Silence for a few minute. “It’s that damn news stuff. If you send them here, they will be crying and whining and things are already bad enough. How much do you want for it?”

“Half of what we agreed to on Friday. You are in a jam and I don’t need to take advantage. I might some help myself someday.”

“You got eight, you say??

“Yes. So far it is. Don’t know if any more are walking in.”

“David, I can’t risk it. Tell you what. You want, I can transfer them at the MAB.”

“What do you want for them?”

“Nothing. I will send the reassignment e-mail and copy you. And ask the board to copy you back. Should only take about half an hour.”

“You really want to do that?”

“David, eight or ten or twenty sows won’t cost me the headache that more news coverage will. Give me their numbers. I will copy you on the request and the reply.”

“Okay.”

David sent that off. Next was the call to M&H.

“M&H Meats. Carla speaking, how may I direct your call?”

“Hi, Carla. Could you put me through to Operations, This is David Findlay.”

“Mr. Findlay, Mr. Miller is expecting your call.”

Oh Shit. What is going on here? David thought.

“Miller here. Findlay, I was wondering when you were going to call me.”

“Hello, Mr. Miller. How are you?”

“Call me Jack. And how can I help you?”

“Okay, Jack. This is David on this end. I have a few of your sheep down here and I was wondering if I could pop them for you for gratis, and ship them to you cold. I will have FDA evaluate them here and ship them to you your choice, hanging, boxed or on a pole.”

“And was that what you were doing for H&S?”

“Yes it was. I was taking care of his overage. This news thing was taken all out of context. These four came in here and were with my intake people and when we found out what the situation was, I agreed to call you.”

“You aren’t stealing into the market are you, David? Just to get into the human stock business?”

“Jack, I resent that. I don’t have to steal market. I have my market and all I was doing for H&S was their third-round and pet food. I sent his own stuff back to him because he has production problems and I had to use my truck because his reefer didn’t work. Otherwise, I would never have done this. And none of this would have happened if he didn’t have problems. Now, if you want I can send these back to you walking. Or I can send them to you cold, clean, and treated for $0.20 a pound. Your choice.”

“Tell you what, David. If they want to be done at your place, you do them and you sell them. Just make sure you tell them and their loved ones they are going to be pet food.”

“Do you want the numbers?”

“Hell yes. Send them to me and I will send you back a blanket authorization. In fact, I will tell Carla to do that with any that request it.

“Okay, Jack. I will do that. And I will have them sign a pet food waiver and send it back to you.”

“Okay. That works for me.”

Jack cut the connection and felt pretty smug. If any woman wanted to stoop to become canned food for her pet that was okay with him. He had a higher class of people.

David sat for a moment in silence. Then he dialed M&H back.

“Carla speaking. How are you Mr. Findlay?”

“Hello, Carla, I just got off the phone with Jack and -”

“I know what Jack said, Mr. Findlay. I am sending you the blanket e-mail now. Just send us the SSN and PIN of any you process and a copy of their agreement on the Pet Food Classification and we will be straight. Delores told me you would probably be calling. Tell you what. Use the word REASSIGNMENT in all caps as the subject.”

“She is a very sweet lady,” David said.” And I appreciate your help. And I think that the ladies here will too.”

“David, if I send you my number, can you handle me too?”

“Carla, I will come pick you up myself.”

“Thanks. That was what Delores said about you. You send that on. I have another call I have to catch.”

David sent the e-mail to M&H and was surprised to see a response of “Reassignment Granted for the following,” and his own e-mail. Carla had set it as an auto-responder for his e-mail and this subject. Well, she was just following orders. And all she had to do was ask and he would pick her up.

A moment later the e-mail from the MAB advising him of the re-assignment of the eight from H&S was confirmed. Twelve for twelve. And people just giving them away.