Entry #423238, added on 05-03-06 @ 10:13 am EDT
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PART THREE
Indeed, “Whynot”
Chapter 1
The miles were sliding beneath the wheels of Skinner’s truck. It was not Christmas, New Years, or any of those other celebatory events, however the anticipation was every bit as acute.
Skinner could feel the warmth, in his heart, from the visit with, and assurances given so freely by his family. “Give me a solid foundation, and I will build the future,” he mused. Thinking he would have to use that thought in his next article. He observed the Buttes this time in his rear view mirror, and was glad he had decided to take this route. The ride had taken him through the heart of the tiny mountains along Pass Road, and he now found himself driving the levee of the Sacramento River. Past Lovey’s Landing, and Ward’s Boat Landing, he entered Colusa by the back door, so to speak. He considered taking Highway Forty-Five towards Maxwell, and his goal. However, the exact directions to his goal were unclear, and he decided he better take the path of least confusion.
Sticking with Highway Twenty into Williams, he would then take I-5 north, and hope his destination would be marked by highway signs. He could not stop the thought he was on some great wildgoose chase, as he entered I-5, and headed north. How was it possible such a community could exist without the knowledge of himself, or his siblings, was beyond his imagination. Passing by Willows he had to fight down the urge to stop, and ask directions, nevertheless, on he drove. There, the sign could not have been smaller and still existed. Whynot, Ca. next exit one mile. “Well, well there really was a land of Oz,” was his thoughts as exited the freeway. Halting, for the stop sign at the top of the exit, he noted no other directions indicated if he should turn left, or right.
Left would take him into the costal range mountains, and he doubted if a community of thirty-five thousand/two-and-half million people could be found in their dry reaches. Right, this then his path, and he turned to follow it. Great, flat farming land stretched before his eyes, and the only thing he could see was a large stand of trees far in the distance. “This has got to be somebodies idea of a joke, it is impossible to hide a town out here.” Believing that he was on a fools errand, and yet on he drove.
Approximately seven miles, and still the only sight was the great stand of trees still two or three miles ahead. Just as he decided to return to the freeway, and continue into Corning for directions, there was a sign. “Welcome to, WHYNOT, Ca., where it is all about you,” and across the bottom, “Pop: 35,000/2.5 million residents.” “Apparently I have come all this way to talk to some trees, no wonder there are no crime statistics, I have never read of any tree being convicted of a crime.” Noting the unusual bridge upon who’s bank the enigmatic sign was planted, and for the first time the occasional neat farm houses, which suddenly dotted to landscape, he drove on.
Suddenly, Skinner found himself laughing, not joyously, but rather hysterically. Each second he noted his speed dropping, as he covered the two, or so miles required to enter the stand of trees. He found his heart racing, and a sweat broke out on his brow. Looking ahead he realized there were buildings, and people a short distance into the shrouding growth. An icy panic gripped his thoughts, and he found himself thinking, “It is a mirage, or a vortex into another world, and I shall never be able to get out.”
His progress had come to a halt, at the point of entrance, and he heard himself speaking, “Grow up Skinner it has been a long time since you believed in fairy tales.” Still he sat unmoving, and staring down the arrow straight road. He could see through the town and outside the northern wall of growth. Clearly there was a large community encased within the wall of trees, and he could see no monsters…Yet. With a snapping shake of his head he drove on, and within minutes found himself driving the main street of an obviously prosperous town.
“Amazing,” spoken aloud his thoughts could not be contained, and he felt the need to stop, and gather these feelings into a logical order. Noting a sign for the, “Neighborhood Café,” he pulled into the graveled lot, and parked.
“Damn,” he thought, “even a simple Café, isn’t simple in this town.” His eyes noted the enormous addition on the back of the Café, and he could not help but ponder its purpose. Getting out of the truck he entered, immediately he was delighted by the original early sixties décor. Linoleum counter with swivel chairs, and cushioned booths with linoleum table tops. Walking to the jukebox he read the music menu, and realized he could take the songs straight to his car and be perfectly happy. He wandered to the back, and was greeted by an enormous hall, or gymnasium. A simple hand lettered sign declared this hall to be the, “Neighborhood of First, and Last American Tribal Council Meeting Hall,” what ever that meant.
Not wanting to appear too nosy he returned to the counter and was seated. Ordering his meal he was surprised by the lack of curiosity by the waitress working behind the counter. She was very polite, and answered his questions openly, however, she acted like she already knew what he was doing here.
Finished with his, above average, meal, he thanked both the man who cooked it, and the waitress who served it, and headed for the door. Somewhat surprised that both walked him to the door, he momentarily missed the signifcance of their parting words. “Its a pleasure having you here, and we know you are going to enjoy this town, Mr. Skinner.” Starting the truck he began to pull from the lot, “Mr. Skinner,” the alarm bells had sounded. Accelerating too fast the tires spun, and sprayed gravel in a rooster tail behind him. By time he reached the small motel, two blocks down the street, he was in a state of complete panic. Stopping at the motel, he considered if he should turn around he make a run for it. There had been no animosity, no hostility or threat, but how did they know.
While still pondering the situation, a car full of young people pulled up beside him, and rolled down their window. Looking over it was clear they wished to speak with him so he rolled down his window. The paaaenger smiled as he spoke, “Mr. Skinner we are very happy you made it here, nevertheless, we do not drive like that in this town.” Then adding, “Mel will sure be glad to hear you are here, she has been jumpy as a cat on a hot tar road.” With that they drove off. Skinner sat there in shock, his mind fragmented by the occurences of the last few minutes. “Well, it is clearly too damn late to run,” deciding this he got out, and went in to register.
Chapter 2
Solid Foundations
While registering, Skinner once again was infomed of how happy the town was to have him in their midst. For the third time he was also told, “Mel,” would finally relax now that he was here. He understood, “Mel,” was the town newspaper editor, from his initial conversation at the Neighborhood Café. How everybody knew who he was, and expected him to arrive was beyond his imagination. There wasn’t anything he could do about that, however, he could decide when and if he would talk to this guy Mel. “I don’t know who this guy thinks he is, but, I am not very impressed by him or his nervousness. He will just have to wait until I pick and choose when to see him.” With these thoughts, he collected his key, and headed to his room.
Skinner had been told this was the only motel in town, and he was surprised to find it consisted of only twenty rooms. It reminded him of an early thirties movie with its indiviedual rooms with parking in between. Looking about on the way to his room, he noted there were no other vehicles in the parking spots. Sliding the key into the lock he felt himself being quite tense. Was Norman Bates on the other side of the door? He laughed as the door swung open, and he viewed an extremely plush setting.
“These accomodations would be considered high class anywhere in the world,” he was thinking as he entered. The exterior belied the roominess he encountered, and he stepped back outside to survey the exterior once again. “Hmmm, I’ll be damned,” he muttered to himself.
Having settled in, Skinner decided it was time to scout the terrain. If this was some sort of trap, he definitely was at a disadvantage, and this made him very nervous. As he headed to his truck he could not help but wonder if he would be allowed to look around the town, however, he intended to try.
The rest of Skinner’s day was spent in exploration, and by the time he was finished he was amazed by what he had viewed. He had purposely set out to find the rundown part of town, for here he felt he could find some answers. Forced to finally admit there was no. “poor,” part of town, he had then began to note the unique design and overall neatness of the community. Also, search as he might he could only find one structure denoted as a church, and this had listed about every denomination, and religion in existence. He was truly curious about the claim found on sign board of this structure, “Here we leave God’s work to God.” In light of the general pontification of the various sects of religion this was truly an amazing statement. Could this town truly share a church without the general judgemental strife in existance in the world at large?
In his exploration he had traveled north of the town, and discovered on the north side of the tree line an extremely modern food processing plant, and the most modern sewage prosessing facitlity he had ever seen. He had been so curious about the sewage plant he had great difficulty not stopping to investigate, however, he was not sure that would have been a good idea. It had been such a remarkable day he found himself regretting having not gone to see this guy Mel. Well he would do that first thing in the morning. Perhaps, there he would find some answers to the myrid question this day had produced.
Returning to his room and cleaning up he decided to return to the Neighborhood Café for dinner. Pulling into the parking lot he noted the place was packed with customers. As soon as he opened the door, every head turned to note his entrance, and he felt like a zoo attraction. Surprisingly many of the patrons waved, or nodded his direction, and he began to feel more comfotable. Having received his order, and completing it he left money on the counter to cover the bill, and made ready to leave. As he headed to the door he heard the waitress say, “I’m real sorry you just missed Mel.” Turning he replied, “Well, if you see him again tell him I will be by first thing in the morning.” Totally confused he the general gales of laughter his statement had produced he hurried to his truck, and returned to the motel.
Like a flare expoding in his mind Skinner noted the nondescript car parked in one of the parking spaces. He had no doubt it was a federal unmarked car, and he nervously looked about. He drove on through the lot, and he parked in front of a business a couple of blocks further down the main street. Locking his truck he walked back to the motel, and let himself into his room. Maybe it was not a federal vehicle, or maybe it was just chance. These thoughts ran through his mind, however, he knew in his heart they were here.
Chapter 3
Lessons for the Outsiders
Skinner could not say it had been a good nights sleep, and he was up early waiting for the time the newspaper office would open. If he was lucky he could make it out of the motel without being seen. At eight o’clock he headed for the door. Opening it a crack he checked the parking lot and was satisfied it was empty. Quickly stepping out he pulled the door shut, and headed for the corner of the building. Just as he was turning the corner he heard a call, “Hey you stop right there.” Ignoring the command he hurried on down the street towards where he had parked his truck. It was only a half block further on to the newspaper building, and he had to try his hardest not to run. Just as he neared the building he heard the screeh of tires, and the roar of an engine headed his way.
Quickly, Skinner stepped into the foyer, and was about to speak when he heard, “Well Mr Skinner we were beginning to think you weren’t going to come and see us. Come this way, Mel is quite anxious to meet you.” Following the secretary he was led into one of the more memorable shocks of his life. “Mr. Skinner please meet Melly De La Casa our editor. He saw her lips move, and heard her words, “I have been genuinely looking forward to this meeting. Please have a seat.” Still he stood there, like an idiot, staring. The woman was not beautiful, however, never in his life had someone impacted him like this.
Perhaps it was just his mistaken thought she, was a he, but he did not think so. “Are you all right? Could you use some water, or perhaps a cup of coffee?” Finally finding his voice he stuttered, “Ah, well, well you see there are a couple of people behind me, and they will be here in a minute. Ah, well I don’t want to cause you any trouble,” saying this he felt like a complete fool. “Don’t worry Mr. Skinner it won’t be any trouble at all. Please have a seat. We are well aware you are having some difficulty, and I personally find this reprehensible. Nevertheless, while you are here you are our guest, and I promise, you will have no trouble here.”
Totally unsure, exactly, what she meant, Skinner was beginning to sit when he heard the front door slam open. A loud voice announced, “Federal Agents, and we are after that man who just came in here. He is wanted for questioning in a drug case we are investigating, and we want him now.
Skinner knew it was over, and not wanting to cause these people, who had been so kind, trouble stated, “Look, I will just go with them, you don’t need to get in any trouble over me.” He was surprised by the lilting laughter his words caused in Mel. She replied, “Mr. Skinner you are safer than when you were in your Mother’s arms.” At that point the office door burst open, as the two agents rushed into the room. “Sidney Skinner you are under arrest for transportation with intent to distribute. Stand up and put your hands behind your back.” As Skinner started to stand Mel spoke, “Gentlemen, and I say that advisedly, please remove yourselves from my office, and town before I have your arrested.” Both agents looked at her, surprised and amused. “Lady if you don’t keep your mouth shut, you will be arrested, also, for interference with Federal Agents in performance of their duties.”
Mel pressed the button on the intercom and spoke, “Robert, would you call the chief, and have him come to my office.” She then picked up the phone and dialed a number. After a brief moment she spoke into the mouthpiece saying, “Would you tell Edwin Case that Mel De La Casa, Sachem of the town of Whynot, is on the phone, and wants to speak to him now, and I mean right now.”
These words caused a change in the atmosphere of the room, as both agents looked at each other. They were aware of, exactly, who Edwin Case was, and this made them a little nervous. Skinner also knew Edwin Case was the Chairman for the Committee to re-elect the president, and he was very curious what this could accomplish. Mel spoke again into the mouthpiece saying,”That will be fine, tell him he has five minutes in-which to return my call,” she then replaced the hand set on the phone.
“Look lady I don’t know what you think you are doing, but let me warn you, you are getting into deep trouble.”
Mel looked across her desk and replied, Gentlemen, I am trying to keep you out of jail.”
At just that moment, Jim Rawlins, and three officers from the town police department showed up. “Whats the problem Mel, He did not even look at the agents as he asked.
“These two agents burst rudely into my office, and have insulted our guest. I am expecting a phone call to resolve this problem, however, if it doesn’t come in the next three minutes, I want you to arrest them, and charge them with illegally invading our community.
“No problem Mel, I would be happy to do that.”
“Now, look here, we are Federal Agents in pursuit of a fugitive, and any interference will meet with big problems for this town.”
At that moment the phone rang, Mel merely smiled at the agents as she answered it. “Hell, Edwin I have two of the govenments goon squad in my office, and I am not happy about this. Now if you don’t have them out of our city limits in fifteen minutes, they will be arrested, and tried. If that happens you can tell the President to pack his bags, and prepare to move out of the house we allow him to occupy. Now, if you have any doubts about my ability to do this you better find out fast, because the clock is ticking.”
Stunned silence filled the office, as Mel hung up the phone. “Now, gentlemen we will await your fate,” she sweetly spoke to the agents. “Lady, I don’t know who you think you are, but you can’t strong arm the government.”
Again the phone rang, and answering it Mel nodded, and extended it towards the two agents, “Its for you, gentlemen.”
The larger of the two took the receiver, and as he listened his face went a lighter shade of pale. He could not believe the words coming from the receiver, “You stupid son-of-a-bitch, you get your ass out of that town, and if you have a brain in your head you won’t look anywhere but straight ahead as you leave. If you don’t move, and I mean now, you will be locked up, and there is not a damn thing we will be able to do about it.”
“But sir.”
He was instantly cut-off, “There is no but unless it is your head, did you hear what I told you, now move. Oh yes, you will apologize with feeling to these people, and I mean great feeling.”
Complete confusion shown on the agent's face, but he nodded his approval, as he handed the receiver back to Mel.
“Ah, excuse us, it appears we were mistaken, and I hope you will accept our apologies. We will be leaving now, I hope, and we won’t bother you again. With that the two agents turned to leave.
Outside the shorter man turned and said, “What the hell is going on?”
“Damn it I don’t know, but we have fallen into a hell of a mess, that much it obvious. Just shut up, and lets get the hell out of this town. We will hear about it when we get back to the office…Of this you can be certain.
Back in Mel’s office, Jim Rawlins said. “Dog-gone-it, I was looking forward to some excitement for a change. Well if you need us just call, and we will be here." With that the four turned and left.
Shock was not an adequate word to describe the feelings of Skinner, and he sat there shaking his head. Before he could say a word, his senses were assaulted again by Mel’s next statement.
“Now we need to talk about why we sent for you,” these words rang, matter-fact, from the sensuous mouth across the desk.
Skinner could only wonder about her complete lack of concern over the events of the past fifteen minutes. What was going on, and where the hell was he?
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© Copyright 2006 K. I. Smet (UN: k-i-smet at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
K. I. Smet has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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