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| >> Campfire Creative >> Other >> Dark >> ID #1657856 |   |
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[Introduction]
Brought to you by Free_Rip   and WistyOne  Imagine you've fought your whole life for the enviroment. After all, what could be more important than the very world we live on, the air we breath? Unfortunately, you learn the answer. Your job. You work for a public relations firm and are employed to be the public face for an anti-enviromental scheme involving cutting down a large native forest. Not only will you have to decieve the public- tell them this is right, nothing to get worked up about... you'll have to decieve your friends and family too.  Write on and experience some of the hard descions people have to face every day: |
 Free_Rip  Heaving a sigh, John hefted his suitcase and set for the door. Monday mornings. God, how he hated Monday mornings! Tired to death from all the GreenPeace and local enviromental commitee meetings... what he wanted was to just flop down on the sofa and sleep for another eight hours. Instead, here he was, tramping off to work at 'O'Heill's Public Relations' firm. What fun.Heat beat on his back like a physical weight; he didn't own a car and the walk to work was torturous. Sometimes, he almost wished she would finally die. That the waiting could be over and he could use even half his money on himself. Guilt always overtook, however. Never could he leave her without funds, not while there was a chance she could wake. He would do anything he could to provide for his love. It was to the tone of these grim thoughts that John arrived. Familiar tears prodded and poked his lids, demanding to be let out from the mask he had constructed. "John, here. We have your new assignment." The gruff voice of his boss was accompanied by a pile of papers shoved into his hands. Dragging his feet, he proceeded to his desk and began to read... WistyOne "Interview Mr. Doug Blathem, today 10 a.m.Head of a large logging firm-Oregon Discuss his endeavor of making it big from logging the ancient forest reserves of the Siskiyous. All the details are attached. I know this may be concerning to you but you are my best guy. There is no leeway here, must support this effort. See me if you need anything." ~ D John poured himself into his leather chair and splayed the papers across the granite desktop. It was 8 a.m. He had two hours to devise something, anything. He was surprised to note he had he been holding his breath and the intake of breath was a welcome relief to his restricted lungs. How would he support something he avidly detested? How could he do this to the one he loved? This had potential to undo everything he had worked so hard for over the past twenty years. Time was of the essence. He couldn't sit here without discussing this with his boss. He shot up and strode back though his office door and down the hall. The echo of his soles pounded purposefully on the tile. Darren would understand. Or would he? The saying "Dead Man Walking" came to mind and mingled with the confusion and contention in his brain... Free_Rip As he walked, John revised his speech in his head. He saw himself standing tall, calm, explaining that he was perhaps not the right pick for this particular assignment. Yet before he even knocked on the door, he knew it was a lie. Knees quivering, thoughts circling... he was more likely to come out as a blubbering mess than anything resembling 'calm'.Bang bang. His knocks echoed across the floor, attracting a few glances from the cubicles of bored colleagues. God, he wished they would just keep to themselves! The glances, on the surface, were unobtrusive enough, but he’d been getting them ever since Elizabeth… since she… Now was not the time to think of that. “John. Come in.” The deep, gruff voice of Darren roused him from his inner complaints. Keeping his head down, John shuffled to a chair, laying his suitcase beside him. “So, John, what can I do for you? Happy to help- you’ve got access to all the resources you need in this one; guys rich and willing to pay!” A predatorial glint took over Darren’s eyes as he spoke. Money was prey to Darren. John was simply his weapon. “Well, that’s the thing, Darren… I kind of…. well I really, really don’t want to do this, ok?” The last was said so quickly as to almost not be understood. Yet the furious shine in Darren’s eyes showed he understood all too well. Darren placed a foot inches from John’s, leaning forward with precision until he seemed a daunting, immovable vehicle of rage. “Really, John? And here I thought you actually cared about your wife. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not threatening her- no need to go to the police. What I am saying is you do this- and do it well- or you no longer have a place here. Good looking getting another job before the doctors pull the plug.” Whirling, he left John quaking in the plush chair. “Oh, and John? You have until tomorrow to impress me with your progress, or I will fire you. I want your best on this, and I’ll do what I need to to get it.” Minutes passed as John sat, still, shocked. Finally, he rose slowly from the chair and set about thinking of the best way he could help destroy one of the last natural havens on Earth. WistyOne "I can do this." John coached as he entered the conference room. Time had sped by. Two hours passing in what seemed only seconds. His eyes swept over the TV cameras. It was Libby's idea to draw in the channel 2 morning news. Always the proactive employee. "Live coverage Johnny! It's a great idea, you've done thousands of these. You'll do great!" she had piped. If only she knew what she had done. To her it was just another interview, just another opportunity to grow the business. Movement near the door drew him out of his pondering. Doug Blathem appreard to be a prominent man. A taylord power suit draped his wide shoulders. His black oxfords left footprints in the thick carpeting as he made his way to face John. Grinding teeth made it difficult for introductions. "Mr. Blathem, pleasure to see you could make it." "John...?" "John Malcor. Have a seat. Let's get this done." Doug placed his briefcase behind the chair and sat, John taking the seat across from him. As if on cue, bright lights lit the room accompanied by the hum of cameras. "This is Pete Pullman your roving reporter for channel 2 news. Today we have the pleasure of learning a bit about the lumber business. It has been quite a log roll of late with the cutting of the ancient forest reserves. Let's listen in to Doug Blathem, CEO of Blathem Milling & Timbers and John Malcor of O'heills Public Relations." Free_Rip John arrived home exhausted. He had no doubt Darren would be pleased. Portraying the enviromentalists as villians thinking they knew what was best, arguing the rights of the villagers to decide- making it seem as if they were for it... he'd used every trick in the book on this one, not to mention some he had invented himself.The interview had gone better than any in his working career and all he could wish was that it hadn't. Tears squeezed out his eyes. In his mind's eye, he could see Elizabeth. Twirling about the house, asking questions about his day when she passed him. For once, the thought brought no comfort. What would he say to her? 'Yes, darling, great day! I just insured the continued logging of a natural reserve! Jolly good show, yes, jolly good...' Empty pizza boxes spread before him as he attacked, finally coming to rest with white knuckles gripping the table edge. What would he say to her if she woke? Would she be grateful? Would she be guilty? Would she hate him for it? "I need a drink!" John groaned, leaning his head on the cool wooden table. All the acohol was gone, had been since Elizabeth drunk herself into a coma. That had been the push he'd needed. But god, if he didn't wish he'd kept just a couple shots of whiskey. He forced himself up, glancing at the calender as he prepared for bed. Seeing the date, he froze. Tommorow was the local GreenPeace meeting- Harold was sick so he was chairing. Anxiety flitted through him. All he could do was hope none of them had watched the news. WistyOne Dawn broke with a blazing orange haze. He'd been awake for hours. Another sleepless night. How long could a body sustain without sleep? John moved mechanically to dress. At 2:30 a.m. he had decided that a visit to see Elizabeth would start his day. She was his light. Perhaps he would be able to cope if he was able to see her, have his one sided conversations and hold her hand. The trip was uneventful. Sterile hospital aromas assaulted his senses as he made his way to room 214 and took his usual seat next to the bed. She lay lifeless as he curled his fingers around her frail hand. "I sure miss having you at the house Beth. It's been tough. The job.... Darren, you remember Darren my boss, he had me interview this big shot lumber CEO. Can you believe they are cutting down our forests? It's terrible! I had to cater to the guy, build him up, almost support his cause! And now, today, I have a GreenPeace meeting. I'm at wits end Beth." His hand engulfed her wrist and squeezed tighter in his distress. A moan escaped her mouth. Had he heard correctly? "Beth?!" He stood over her, shaking her arm. "Honey?" Another sound emitted from her pale lips. © Copyright 2010 Free_Rip, WistyOne, (known as GROUP). All rights reserved. GROUP has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |
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