Locomotive to the Past - George Schultz (famous ebook reader .txt) 📗

Valerie seemed quite disturbed—by the use of “the S word”. She clutched Cynthia, closely, to her bosom! On the other hand, the vulgarity seemed to not bother Susan. The men were impassive.

“I don’t think Mayor Jeffries knows about any of this,” commented the newest guest.

“There are a lot of people,” observed Eric, “who think the mayor doesn’t know much… about a helluva lot of things.”

“Yeah,” grunted Stainback. “But, this here company… this Wyandotte Construction, the ones, who issued these checks… it’s owned by Keene’s brother-in-law. There are three or four people… big wheels, with other companies, who figured out, that they got screwed! Got screwed… whenever they’d bid, on these various contracts! Who’ll swear . . . that the city paid way too goddam much! Too goddam much… to Wyandotte!”

In 1944, the word “screwed, was virtually verboten! Seldom—if ever—to be spoken, in mixed company. When Judy Carnes had used it, on TV’s Laugh-In, in the mid-sixties, (“Looks like I screwed up”, was the line) it had caused a mild ripple. After that utterance, however, the word became a common-use item. No biggie!

In 2006, a song—named It’s Hard Out Here, For A Pimp—won the Academy Award, for Best Song. This was the same Academy—which had, through the years, given us Over The Rainbow, When You Wish Upon A Star, White Christmas, Love Is A Many-Splendored Thing and True Love. And—in 2006—they gave us that “classic”!

“Pimp” had been another commonly-used word—from where Jason had come. However, it was seldom used/heard—again, in mixed company—in the place, where he’d landed.

As soon as Valerie had heard Stainback use the word, “screwed”—at the Atkinsons’ dinette table—she, immediately, got up, and relocated, in the living room. But, not quite before the dinner guest had said “goddam”!

Her husband was at a bit, of a loss—over the fact that she’d gotten that upset, over the language being spouted, by the late-arrival.

“Anyway,” Stainback had continued, undeterred, “this story is gonna break . . . break, big as hell . . . tomorrow! State auditors… are up to their asses, in the thing! They’re even poking… and rattling… around, in there, this afternoon, as I understand it.”

“Really?” responded Jason. “And why are you giving all this… all this damning evidence . . . giving it to me?”

“Because, you’re a nice kid. Eric has always talked well, about you. And he’s my friend! My good friend! Besides, when you were screwing around with that guy… that schmuck, Stackhouse… I was a bit taken. Kinda impressed, by your… well, your… your, silly-assed, innocence. It’s kinda… well, kinda refreshing, y’know… to see someone that innocent! That… uh… untouched! Not affected, by all the shit… all the shit, that goes on, nowadays! Everywhere!” The confounding—convoluted—answer, left Jason totally flummoxed!

“I don’t think he’s quite that innocent, anymore,” offered Eric.

“Yeah… well hopefully not,” replied Stainback. “Hopefully not. It’s gonna take some balls, Kid! Lotsa balls… to break this thing! To break it… on the radio!

“Wait a minute!” Our Hero was more than merely flummoxed! He was completely buffaloed! “You… you mean… you mean you want me . . . want me to break it? Break it? Break this? Break it… on the air? On the air… tomorrow?”

“Of course! Certainly! Why the hell… do you think I’m here?”

“But… but, I don’t understand! Why me?”

“Why not? Like I say… you’re a nice kid! Got a lovely family! Susie’s in love . . . with the older one. Your oldest daughter.”

“The new one, too,” furnished Eric.

“Listen,” growled the newcomer. “The guy… the one who thinks that he’s gonna break the story, and scoop the shit out of all his fellow reporters… he’s a total son of a bitch! Ramsay Cartright! Can’t stand him! Hate his guts! So, if I can give a nice kid a little goose . . . help him, up the old corporate stepladder… and, at the same time, put the blocks, to some bastard, at The News, then why the hell not?”

“Well, I… I don’t… I really don’t know how to…” stammered Jason.

“Listen, Kid! You’re gonna have to break it… and do it, damn early,” admonished Stainback. The News . . . it’ll hit the street, just before noon! Well, the paper’ll probably be out… out, tomorrow… out at, probably, about eleven-thirty! They’ll hustle their asses, down there! Down at the News! Your show doesn’t go on… till four o’clock! So, you’re gonna have to go in early! Way early! Gonna have to cut someone off! Then, you gotta unload! Really unload! Go for broke!” (The latter expression had developed during World War II. It meant “Shoot the works”!)

“I… listen! I don’t know, if… I mean, I’m not certain that I can…”

“You can do it, Kid,” encouraged the crude newcomer. “It’s gonna take some balls! A whole lot of balls! But, you can! You can do it! You gotta do it! You’ve… you got balls, Kid! You got balls enough… to pull this off!”

Those last few sentences had sent the young man—even further—into an heretofore-unknown doldrum! Or was it? Was it really a doldrum?

He’d never been told before—that he’d “had balls”! Ever! He’d been “reminded”—numerous times—by his mother, that he’d lacked that particular commodity! He’d even overheard Sheila advising “Aunt Debbie”, of her perception—relating to his “apparent” dearth, of “the symbols of manhood”.

His “aunt” had defended him—to a point! But, her overheard response had been—to his way of thinking—a little “too mild”. He’d always appreciated the tepid reply. But, how he’d wished—how he had prayed—that he could’ve heard her proclaim (preferably, at the top of her lungs) that, “He does too have balls! Lots of balls! Bigger balls… than you can imagine!” Alas, the macho-feeding statement had never come! Nothing close! Sadly!

Now, all of a sudden, here is this man—this enigmatic (to say the least) Nicholas Stainback! And he is “shouting… to the world” that Jason did, in point of fact, “pack the masculine gear”! Big time stuff! Something that would make most young men “stop and think”! It certainly worked that way—in the case, of this young man!

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