Chapter 13

Monday, March 12, 2007

Scott bounced out of bed, and hit his calisthenics routine with a renewed sense of purpose. After a quick shower he rushed from the bunkhouse. He tightened the straps on his backpack, and went to warm up the motorcycle. For breakfast at Mr. Piotrowski's he fixed french toast. The strawberries from their last grocery run were still good so he cleaned up them with a sharp knife, and placed them decoratively over both plates. Jobe watched intently, hoping for a dropped morsel. Scott took pity on him and got him a treat. For his part, Mr. Piotrowski was slow coming down the stairs, and looked a little bleary eyed.

"How can you be such a bundle of energy after our weekend? I need a few days just to recover," he grumbled.

"Come on. It's a beautiful day full of promise," Scott said as he cheerfully put their plates on the table.

"Okay, what has you in such a good mood?"

"Why shouldn't I be in a good mood? We just got back from a fantastic trip. I might have a job interview this week, and I should be hearing from the college people soon. Plus, it really is going to be a great day outside. I've even decided to ride into town."

Mr. Piotrowski looked at him briefly, and then dug into his breakfast. "Mmmmm, these are good," he said around another mouthful.

Scott finished off his plate, and tossed a piece of crust to Jobe who ate it with a quick snap.

On the way into town he waved at the school bus driver as he passed him heading the other way. In the school library Scott used a computer to look up the 'Blues Brothers' movie. It was an 'R' rated comedy. He'd have to check with his friends and see if any of them had ever seen it. Not even Mr. Channing's geometry class dampened his enthusiasm. On his way to third period English he spotted Eddie and Molly holding hands in the hallway.

"Hey guys, have a good weekend?" he asked.

"Uhh..." was all Eddie could get out.

Molly let go of Eddie's hand, and looked nervously around.

"Hey, we've got to get to English. See you at lunch, Molly," Scott said has he clapped Eddie on the back in a friendly manner. "Are you walking her to class? Hurry up then, time's a wasting."

Scott left his friends in a confused cloud of good cheer. Eddie caught back up to him as class was starting.

"Dude, are you okay?" he asked.

Scott smiled, "I'm great!"

The teacher called class to order while Eddie muttered something about Scott having been, "Kidnapped by aliens."

In the break between classes Eddie tried to get him to talk about his trip, but Scott told him to wait till lunch when he could tell everyone at the same time. At lunch time, Scott headed toward the salad bar. He passed Rene with a hearty, "Hey, Rene!" She turned around, confused.

Scott sat down at their lunch table with a plateful of salad and an orange. He shoveled some of the salad into his mouth, chewed and then took a big drink of water. He looked up at his friends who were all staring at him. He smiled.

"Okay, what's going on?" demanded Eddie.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Why are you in such a good mood?" asked Rene.

"Yeah," chipped in Molly.

"No reason in particular. It's a great day out. Spring is here, all that stuff," he explained.

Bo leaned forward, "How was Chicago?"

Scott put another bite into his mouth, and held up his finger telling him to wait a moment as he chewed. He took another drink.

"The trip was great," he explained. He told them about airports, how big the hotel was and the great view of Lake Michigan. He went into great detail about the observation deck at Sears Tower, and the fun he'd had on the Ferris wheel at Navy Pier. They were impressed by his description of the fancy party at the museum and the amazing exhibits. Everybody was interested in the huge tower. The girls wanted to know what kind of shops he'd seen, and the guys nodded when he described the great steak he'd eaten.

"Hey, have any of you guys seen a movie called, 'The Blues Brothers'?" he asked.

Bo had, and wanted to know why.

"These girls who were my tour guides said I had to see it," he replied.

"Who were these girls?" asked Rene.

"A couple of college girls employed by the museum, I met one of them last summer when the museum people came down to see Mr. Piotrowski's collection. We spent most of Saturday together, and had a really great time."

"Pretty?" asked Rene.

Bo and Eddie were trying to give Scott some kind of signal. He looked at them trying to divine what they were saying.

"Sure, real pretty," he replied to Rene.

He looked back at Bo, who was now pinching the bridge of his nose. Eddie stood up and announced that he was going to get a drink refill. Bo said, "I'll join you."

Scott shrugged, and started peeling his orange. He asked if either of the girls wanted a section. They both declined.

He noticed that Eddie and Bo were taking their time getting new drinks.

"You guys would have liked these girls," he told Rene and Molly. "They're both college graduates. Lauren works for the head of the Asian department at the museum, and Donna is finishing a doctorate in paleontology. She works with dinosaur bones. How cool would that be?"

"And you liked them?" asked Rene.

"Yeah, they were great," Scott replied.

The guys finally returned, but looked uncomfortable.

"Hey, Eddie. Do you know what your plans are for the summer yet? Are you staying here, or going to work for your uncle again?" Scott asked.

Eddie spilled his iced tea, and sputtered, "What?"

Molly had turned in her seat to look at him.

"This summer?" Scott prompted.

"Uh, yeah. I'm staying here. Working for dad, and maybe a few days at the city pool if I get my lifesaving classes completed," Eddie looked nervously at Molly.

Molly nodded at something, and relaxed in her chair.

"What about you, Bo? Working for your dad's crew again?" Scott asked.

Bo replied quickly, "Yeah, same old thing. Football camp again, and then working for my dad. What about you?

"I'm not a hundred percent sure yet," he looked at Eddie. "It looks like I'll have a strange schedule which means I'm going to have to find a different summer job. I might have an interview later this week or next."

"You're not going to work at the engine center?" asked a surprised Eddie.

"Probably not," he explained. "I talked to your dad about it last week."

Rene asked, "Why is your schedule going to be strange?"

"Hopefully I'll be taking afternoon classes at the Midland College campus extension located in the vocational training center."

"What?" asked an incredulous Eddie.

"How?" Rene wanted to know.

Scott finished his orange segment, and carefully cleaned his fingers with a napkin. "I took the SAT and applied. It was fairly straight forward, really."

"You took the SAT? When?" demanded Molly.

He folded the napkin, and pushed his tray back. He fixed Molly with a look, "Back in February ... on a Saturday."

"Shit," Rene said softly.

Molly blinked her eyes rapidly, and took a deep breath.

Scott waved his hand casually, "Water under the bridge. So, what are you girls doing this summer?"

"I'm going to the Grand Canyon with my grandparents, and then nothing. It is summer vacation," Rene stressed the last word, as she looked at Molly.

Molly took another breath. "I'm going back east to see family. Then I don't know."

"So, Eddie, how many days till summer vacation," Scott asked.

Eddie distractedly replied, "I haven't counted yet."

"Better get on that. How will we know otherwise?" smirked Bo.

"Cheer up everybody. Think about it. In two and a half months or so we'll no longer be freshman," Scott said as he stood up. "I think they've got fresh bananas, anybody want one?" he asked as he walked toward the salad bar.

"He's cheerful. This can't be good," muttered Eddie.

Scott was still in a good mood when he got to the gym for final period. He dressed quickly, and was stretching while the rest of the cross country team gathered to listen to Coach Zell's instructions for the training period.

"Okay, listen up. It's going to be a little different today. You're going to run a timed mile on the track."

There were a couple of groans.

"We'll go by alphabetical order," he clapped his hands together. "Head on out. Scott, wait up a moment will you?"

"Yeah, coach?"

"Results came back on this last round of piss tests. You're good to go."

"Great. Thanks, Coach," it was another thing he could put behind him. His sample looked normal to the testing lab.

They went out to the quarter mile track, and the five members of the cross country team tried to stay loose. Scott could tell that Rene was having trouble focusing after her first lap. Coach Zell could tell too, and laid into her as she ran past them. "Keebler, pick up the pace!" he yelled. By the end of her third lap Rene's rhythm was completely broken, and she struggled on her fourth and final lap. She collapsed after crossing the finish line.

"Get up Keebler and walk it off. You'll cramp up otherwise. You know better!" the coach was yelling. He clapped his hands together rapidly. "Up, up, up!"

Rene got up and looked wiped out.

It was Scott's turn and he took off down the track. He had a good rhythm going. The one thing he hadn't managed to figure out was how to get Mr. Piotrowski to see a doctor. He considered asking Mrs. Delgado for help, but Mr. Piotrowski was a proud man. His wife's death also colored his view of the medical profession. Maybe he should stop by the hospital after school and talk to somebody. His yearly physical for family services had be coming up soon.

Coach Zell's whistle interrupted his train of thought. "MacIntyre, you going to run another mile?" the coach yelled.

Scott looked around, and realized he'd finished his mile. He started jogging back to the start-finish line. Coach Zell was looking at his stopwatch, and turned it around for Scott to see.

"Not bad, MacIntyre. Not bad at all. Alright, everybody hit the showers."

In the parking lot Scott sat on his bike as it warmed up. He thought briefly about riding over to the hospital and arranging an appointment, but wasn't sure if that would even be possible. After thinking about it he decided that Mr. Piotrowski probably wouldn't appreciate his interference. Instead he rode over to the courthouse to see Judge Upcott.

He found the judge leaving his office, "Scott, I'm on my way to meeting. Whatever you need will have to be quick. Walk with me to the conference room. Did you have a good time in Chicago?"

"Yes, sir. Chicago was great. I wanted to stop by and see if you've had a chance to speak to your friend about that job?" He had to walk quickly to keep up with the judge as he made his way down the hallway.

Judge Upcott stopped outside of the conference room. He balanced his leather case on a knee, and searched through it. He pulled out a piece of letterhead with a phone number.

"This is Mr. Lewis's phone number. He'll be expecting your call sometime this week."

Scott folded the paper, and put it into his wallet, "Thank you, sir."

He was almost to the stairs when the judge came back out of the conference room and shouted to him, "Scott, I forgot. You need to run by and see Honour, or Joseph, over at their offices."

"About what?"

"They'll let you know. It's nothing to worry about," and with that the judge closed the door.

"Nothing to worry about he says," Scott muttered to himself. Downstairs at the main entrance to the courthouse there was a work crew taking measurements. He adjusted his grip on the motorcycle helmet, and paused to watch the workmen.

"What are they doing?" he asked one of the elderly deputies who worked security at the courthouse.

"They're going to install a security checkpoint and a metal detector," the deputy explained.

"No kidding?"

"They told us about it a few weeks ago. Part of me is glad for the added security, the other part of me is sad that we might ever need it," the deputy said as he returned to the magazine he had been reading.

Scott could see the law office around the corner from where he was parked. The receptionist spotted him coming in the door, and picked up her phone to let one of the lawyers know that he was there.

"Go right on back, hun," she said.

He walked to Joseph's office, and peeked in. Mr. Black was standing beside his desk sorting through a large stack of paperwork.

"Scott, good to see you. Go on down to Honour's office. I'll join you shortly."

He walked further down the hallway, and knocked on the doorframe of Honour's office. She was on the phone. Looking up she covered the phone and told him, "Grab a seat." He sat down.

Joseph walked in and took a seat. "You talked to the judge?" he asked.

"I just saw him over at the courthouse. He told me to come by."

"Good. How was Chicago? Did you get a chance to visit Northwestern?"

"No, didn't have the time," he quickly described the sights he had gotten to see. "I did meet somebody who was going to the University of Chicago."

"Fine school," Joseph said as Honour concluded her business and hung up.

"It's good that you stopped by. We need to talk to you," Honour said as she motioned to Joseph.

"Nazario Guzman is going to trial next week. You're on the county's witness list. We have to sit down with the prosecutor sometime this week. He'll explain what's going on."

"How long is this going to take? Do you know how many days of school I might miss?"

"It's not like television. I doubt this case lasts more than a day," Joseph explained. "The case is scheduled to be heard next Wednesday. I wouldn't worry too much about it. You're a supporting witness on a lesser charge to the main one he's up on."

Honour cut in, "Scott, the prosecutor is going to review some questions that might be asked, and tell you how to answer the defense lawyer's questions. The basic rule of thumb is to give short answers, and 'Yes' or 'No' are best. No long winded explanations. Use as few words as humanly possible, and don't let the defense lawyer get under your skin."

Joseph followed up by saying, "You might not even be called. It depends on how the case goes. Questions?"

"Can we try to do this so I miss as little school as possible?"

Honour spoke, "That's a good point. I think we can arrange the interview after school hours. Joseph, organize it with the prosecutor's office?"

"Scott, I'll call over there and get it sorted out, and I'll leave a message with Alex when we know a meeting time with the prosecutor. Why don't you have a phone? You must be the only fifteen year old without one," Joseph asked half jokingly.

"Who would I call?" Scott replied.

He left the office and rode straight to Mr. Piotrowski's. The half hour trip gave him time sort out his thoughts. Scott found him watching the news in the front room.

"It sounds like you've had an interesting day," Mr. Piotrowski commented. "I got a call from our lawyer a short while ago. If you can be at their office after school tomorrow you can have your meeting with the prosecutor. How do you feel about all of this?"

Scott sat down in the other reclining chair. "Well..." he scratched the back of his neck as he thought, "I don't really see what I can testify about. Almost having a fight in a school hallway isn't illegal, and the threatening letter Guzman wrote to the paper I never actually saw."

"With the Black's watching out for you, you'll be fine," Mr. Piotrowski observed.

Jobe walked into the front room and bumped Scott's knee. He reached over and scratched the big dog's ears.

"I did get the number for that job from the judge. Do you know a Mr. Lewis?"

Mr. Piotrowski rubbed his chin, "Can't say that I do."

Scott stretched and stood up, "I think I'll take Jobe for a walk, and then call Mr. Lewis." He gathered his courage, "Mr. Piotrowski, would you do me a favor?"

"What's that?"

"While I'm walking Jobe, would you call your doctor and make an appointment to get a checkup?"

"Scott, where's this coming from?"

"I'm worried about you. Like you said, you've been getting tired, and you're having some trouble with your leg. Please," Scott urged.

"You really are worried aren't you?" said Mr. Piotrowski.

"Yes."

"In that case I'd better call and get an appointment, hadn't I?"

Scott took Jobe and went for a long walk. By the time they got back he'd filled Jobe in on the trip to Chicago, and all of the latest news.

"They got me right in. I've got an appointment next Tuesday, early. I'll drive myself," announced Mr. Piotrowski.

"That's great," replied Scott.

"What would you have done if I had refused?"

"I don't know. Maybe I'd have called the Ladies Auxiliary and see what they could do?"

"Ho!" Mr. Piotrowski said with an amused grin. "That would have been a little extreme don't you think?"

"Perhaps," Scott had to laugh at the look on Mr. Piotrowski's face. He took the phone number out of his wallet, "I'm going to call Mr. Lewis."

He dialed the number.

"Lewis Outfitters, how can we help you hunt today?" the voice on the other end of the phone announced.

"Mr. Lewis? This is Scott MacIntyre. Judge Upcott said I should call?" Scott asked.

"Indeed. This is Mr. Lewis. You're looking for a job?"

"I am. Yes, sir."

"Hmmm. Do you know where Lewis Heating and Air is?" Mr. Lewis proceeded to give him the address in Fort Stockton.

"I can find it, sir."

"Friday, after school, come by the office for an interview."

"Thank you, sir. I'll be there."

Mr. Lewis grunted and hung up.

Scott looked at the phone and hung up, "I've got an interview on Friday at Lewis Heating and Air."

Mr. Piotrowski nodded his approval.

The next morning Scott stopped at Meritt's Corner and bought gas for the motorcycle. The school day was unremarkable, and his session at the prosecutor's office was anticlimactic. The man didn't say anything that Joseph or Honour hadn't already mentioned.

The most interesting part of the week before Friday was Eddie enlisting Scott's help for his lifeguard classes. Eddie had to have CPR certification to qualify as a lifeguard. The Red Cross wouldn't justify coming down from Odessa unless they had one more person signed up for the class. Scott agreed although he wasn't happy about missing yet another Saturday of work. Eddie assured him that he'd clear it with his dad.

After cross country practice on Friday, Scott showered and dressed. He'd thrown a tie into his bag for the collared shirt he wore. He took some good natured ribbing from the other guys in the locker room as he tied his tie. He left in a hurry. There wasn't much he could do about his hair. It was going to get mussed by the helmet, but he'd do the best he could. First impressions were important.

He drove over to the Lewis store for his interview. He sat at a four way intersection waiting for the traffic ahead of him to pass through the stop signs. Ahead he could see 'Lewis Heating and Air' right next to 'Lewis Interiors.' The third of the trio of buildings belonged to something called, 'Pecos Electronics.' It wasn't a store he was familiar with, but he wanted to check it out.

There wasn't any designated motorcycle parking. He didn't want to take a spot right in front of the storefront, so he parked at the end of the building. He took off his helmet and ran his fingers through his hair looking at the reflection in the store window. He straightened his tie. It was the best he could do.

He composed himself, and opened the door. A blast of cool air hit him in the face as he walked inside. It wasn't much of a storefront. In fact it looked more like a parts house. At the front counter sat an elderly man with snow white hair and shockingly large eyebrows. The man was pecking at a computer keyboard with his two index fingers.

"Help you, young man?" the man rasped.

He cleared his throat, "Yes, sir. My name is Scott MacIntyre. I'm here for a job interview with Mr. Lewis."

'You are, are you?" The man turned around on his office chair. He was wearing a work shirt with a sewn in name tag that read, 'Lewis.' He reached over, and pressed a button at the base of a microphone Scott hadn't noticed before. He heard a crackle over speakers hidden in the ceiling as the old man's voice echoed through the building, "Smokey, young man here to see you."

Shortly after a man appeared behind the senior citizen, and looked at him. "Come on through," he told him.

The old man pointed to a section of the countertop that swung up. Scott lifted the desktop and set it back down as he went through the pass-through. He followed the other man to a surprisingly clean office.

"Have a seat," the man instructed him. "I'm Smokey Lewis. You met my father, Buck, out front."

"Scott MacIntyre, sir, pleasure to meet you."

Mr. Lewis looked him over carefully, and Scott did the same. Mr. Lewis looked to be a man in his late-50s or early-60s, and had obviously spent a lot of time outdoors. His skin seemed to have a permanent tan and was weather-beaten. He had lines around his eyes that made him look like he was in a permanent squint.

"Well, you're polite at least. Not much use for a tie in our business. Why don't you tell me what kind of work experience you've had?"

"I grew up doing ranch chores; everything from clearing brush and hauling feed, to shoveling manure. I can do minor carpentry, repair fences, and care for horses. I've worked since last January at Mendoza's Engine Center out at Meritt's Corner. I've cleaned parts, helped with inventory, and was an apprentice in the small engine shop. Starting last summer I've also worked for Mr. Piotrowski helping him clear out a house and storage building, cleaning, cooking, and all manner of household chores. I'm an early riser, and a hard worker."

"You have your own transportation?"

"Yes, sir. I have my license, and I own a motorcycle," he explained lifting his motorcycle helmet.

"You're fifteen?" Mr. Lewis asked.

"I am, and I turn sixteen in January. It's a hardship license," he wasn't sure why he was embarrassed to explain that.

Mr. Lewis sat back, and folded his hands behind his head. He studied the young man in front of him. "If you have two jobs now, why are you looking for another?"

"I've enjoyed working for Mr. Mendoza, but I'm only working eight hours a week at the engine center. I plan to take a college class this summer which meets in the afternoon, and I've heard this job starts early and finishes after lunch. Plus, I really like the outdoors."

"Hmmm, and this other job with ... Piotrowski?" Mr. Lewis asked as he stumbled over the name.

"I'll keep working for Mr. Piotrowski. The hours are flexible and it's only a few chores. It's near where I live."

"I see. Let me tell you a bit about what we do. Lewis Outfitting provides guided hunting adventures. We have clients from all over. They hunt for white-tail and mule deer, pronghorn, javelina, turkey, quail, dove, and mountain lion. This is the off season. From now until fall we work hard managing the property, and preparing for hunting season. We do have some off season activities like sporting clays."

Scott indicated that he was following him so far.

"Before I go much farther let me ask if you have any experience with firearms, and how do you feel about hunting?" Mr. Lewis asked.

"I've completed the NRA basic rifle and handgun courses. I have a Ruger .22 rifle that I won at the VFW fair this last Veteran's Day." He hesitated before answering the second part of the question, "As far as hunting, if it's for food or population control I'm for it. Trophy hunting isn't something I can see myself doing, but I'm not against anybody else's right to do it."

Mr. Lewis looked at him, "You're honest at least. Who taught you to shoot?"

"Mr. Piotrowski, and Sheriff King," he replied.

Mr. Lewis's eye twitched at the sheriff's name. "Here's what the job entails. We have two properties. The main property is thirty-two thousand acres of prime hunting land. There are automated feeders to maintain, stands to repair or replace, really an endless list of items. The biggest part of the job this summer is surveying the property. I want every acre looked at."

All thirty-two thousand acres?

"You won't be the only one of course. I have a manager and another employee that will also be doing this. Some of it you'll have to hike on foot, but we do have four-wheel, all terrain vehicles that will save you a lot of time. You'd also be documenting any animals you see with a small digital camera. We start work at 6:00 a.m., and try to knock off the field work by 1:00 p.m. to avoid the peak heat, Monday through Saturday. Still interested?"

"Yes, sir." Seven hours a day, six days a week? He could definitely get behind that.

"You mentioned that you like the outdoors, what kind of experience do you have?"

"I've done a lot of hiking. Lately, I've gotten into camping. That's really all there is to it," Scott explained.

"That's better than I'd hoped. We can teach you the rest. Here's the deal. You have the job if you want it. Your work experience, and demeanor would have gotten you the job anyway, but the recommendation of Elijah Upcott guaranteed it. I'll pay you seven-fifty an hour to start."

The money sounded good. Mr. Lewis appeared to be one of the few people to refer to the judge by name, and not his title. "When would I start?"

"When does the school year finish?" asked Mr. Lewis.

"May 25th," Scott replied.

Mr. Lewis looked at his calendar, "I would say your first full day would be May 29th, the day after Memorial Day. However, what I'd like to have you do is start working weekends for us. There's a lot to teach you. We're in the middle of developing our other property, and you could help there. That would let you meet my people, and so forth. How would that work for you?"

"I have a Red Cross first aid class this weekend, and a camping trip with some buddies planned for the last weekend of the month. Other than that I'm free and clear, or will be after I let Mr. Mendoza know."

Mr. Lewis stood up, and reached out his hand. Scott shook it. "Then consider yourself hired. With a starting date of ... the first weekend in April. Let's go fill out some paperwork," Mr. Lewis told him. "Any final questions?"

"Do you also own the other stores on this lot?"

"Lewis Interiors is owned by my ex-wife. We lease the other space to that electronics store." Mr. Lewis herded him down the hallway to another room where he said payroll was handled. "New employee for the outfitting side, get him sorted out will you?" he announced as he left Scott in the care of a pleasant looking woman.

Scott filled out the employment paperwork, and provided all of his contact details.

"Don't you have your own phone number, honey?"

Scott shook his head.

"That's easily fixed. Here's what you do. Go over to the electronics store and tell them that Mrs. Lewis told you to get a prepaid cell phone on the Lewis account. Once it's activated call me so I can have the number."

His confusion must have been obvious because she explained that she was the current 'Mrs. Lewis, ' and that he'd probably meet the other Mrs. Lewis in time. They would pay for the phone, and if he ran out of minutes then he could add them at his own expense. She gave him a card that listed all of the important Lewis phone numbers, and a packet with maps of their hunting properties. She showed him where he was expected to be the first Saturday. On the map it was labeled, 'hunting lodge.'

"Welcome to the Lewis family," she said cheerfully.

"Thank you," he replied.

Mrs. Lewis took him out a different door, and reminded him to call her with his new phone number. He walked down to the electronics store and went inside. The store appeared to be deserted. He spent several minutes browsing before a man appeared and asked him what he wanted. Scott didn't think much of the man's sales technique, but explained that he was supposed to get a cell phone on the Lewis account. The man disappeared again, grumbling the entire way.

Scott went back to browsing. Pecos Electronics sold used and new items, and others that could only loosely be described as electronic. They had several laptops. He looked them over carefully. With college classes on the horizon it might finally be time to buy one. He wondered what Mr. Piotrowski's friend at the hardware store would charge him for a used laptop of questionable origin?

The man returned from the back of the store with a box, "Okay, here's your phone. It's already charged. Do you need any accessories?"

"Like what?" Scott asked.

"Different colored case, maybe an adaptor for your vehicle, or our extended warranty. See what happens is—"