Echoes of a Distant Summer (72 page)

“Go ahead,” Jackson chuckled humorlessly as he pointed at Witherspoon. “But you’ll be the fall guy. Your buddies will leave you out to dry. And how do you think they’ll treat you when they see you’re of no more use to them? You know too much. You’re a loose string. And you know they don’t like loose strings.” Jackson tapped his chest. “I’m your only hope and if you help me, you might even walk away with the company.”

Phillips sputtered angrily, “How dare you! How dare you attempt to intimidate my client! You’ll answer for this! I’ll slap a libel suit on you so fast you won’t know what hit you!”

Jackson laughed. “You’re small fish, Phillips! I told you I’m willing to spend ten million dollars to win this case. I can crush you for a million and a half. I’ll bury you in litigation. You’re just a bug on the floor. Mr. Witherspoon, on the other hand, has an opportunity to free himself of parasites.”

“I won’t stand here and be threatened! I’m surprised that Johnson, Wyland and Johnson would put up with this type of chicanery! Let’s go!” Phillips attempted to hurry Witherspoon from the conference room.

Jackson ignored Phillips and directed his remarks at Witherspoon. “It’ll cost you nothing just to sit and listen to my proposal. You don’t have to say anything, just listen.”

Phillips grabbed Witherspoon’s arm. “We’ve heard everything he has to say!” Several times Witherspoon looked questioningly over his shoulder at Jackson and appeared to be on the edge of saying something, but his courage failed him. He was led away without comment.

After Witherspoon’s departure, Jackson spent another forty-five minutes with his attorney reviewing the legal actions that had been prepared. He left the office with the understanding that litigation would commence the next day. He had struck his first blow against his enemies. There were a number of other actions that he planned to undertake over the next few days which would flush them farther out of their holes. When Jackson left the law offices through the building’s service entrance, an unmarked black van was waiting for him. He got into the back of the van and directed the driver across the bridge to the East Bay. The van was set up like a limousine, with a closure for the driver, executive chairs, telephone, writing table, and fold-down benches for extra riders. His grandfather had two of the vehicles built to unobtrusively move men around the Bay Area. Carlos had suggested that Jackson use one for his own errands and tasks.

The day was overcast and grim. A northwesterly wind gusted through the Gate as gray and silver clouds preceded a dark, charcoal formation that was billowing ominously just off the coast. Jackson hadn’t listened to any weather reports, but it looked as if the day’s climate had no relation to the day before.

Jackson picked up Rhasan outside the Oakland museum. When he got into the van, Rhasan began to chatter away immediately about his run-in with the Lenzinis, but Jackson waved him to silence. “We can talk about all of that when we get to where we’re going. Tell me about your plans to leave for college.”

Rhasan looked at Jackson intently and said with youthful fervor, “I was thinking about passing on those plans until we dealt with the problems caused by my great-grandfather’s death.”

“What’s this ‘we’ stuff?”

Rhasan was shocked by Jackson’s question. He tapped his chest and said through gritted teeth, “I’m going to help you. This is a family fight. Plus, I want to kick that fat guy’s ass! We’ll show them not to mess with the Tremains!”

Jackson did not respond immediately. He began mulling over how best he could harness Rhasan’s desire to help in a manner that would keep him out of danger. He didn’t want the added anxiety of worrying about his nephew. He watched the expressions cross Rhasan’s face as he inspected the inside of the van.

Rhasan turned to him. “This ain’t bad, Uncle Jax. Is this one of Great-grandfather’s rides?”

“Yeah, he had two like this.”

“Man, oh man! This is cool! One of his attack vehicles, huh?”

“You might call it that.”

“Does he still have that motor cruiser you used to tell me about? I’d like to go sailing on it sometime.”

Jackson nodded and said, “We’ll see about that.”

“So, what are we going to do today?”

“We’re going to talk. You and I. I want you to be clear about your role.”

“That sounds like you’ve been talking to my mother!” Rhasan retorted, an angry tone entering his voice. “Listen, I’m not a kid anymore! I’m an adult! I know it’s hard for you older types to cut the apron strings, but I’m a man. And I’m prepared to take on a man’s responsibilities!”

“Good! There are plenty of adult responsibilities related to getting your life on track and they should occupy all of your time.”

“What are we riding around for?” Rhasan demanded angrily. “There’s no need for discussion! You’ve already made up your mind! You want to treat me like a child too! If you don’t want to include me, that’s okay,
but I’m not running away! I can get some protection from Fox. I got friends who’ll cover my back!”

The implications of Rhasan’s statement were not lost on Jackson. Eighteen was a period in life when rashness often crossed all the way over into stupidity. He couldn’t afford a war of the wills with his nephew. “All right! All right,” Jackson conceded. “Why don’t we do this. Ride with me over to Muir Woods. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say regarding what you think your participation should be and you’ll listen to my response. Okay?”

“Why go all the way over there? We could talk right here!”

“I want us both to have ample time to think about what we’re going to say and I want us to say it in the most constructive fashion possible. This is not a game! People have been killed! Are you prepared to take time and formulate your thoughts before we discuss?”

Rhasan was so full of ideas and thoughts he was about to burst, yet he swallowed down his words with an effort and said, “I know what I think right now!”

“Well, good for you. I don’t. You are important to me and I don’t want to present my ideas poorly. Are you willing to give me until we get to Muir Woods?”

“Why Muir Woods? Why can’t we go to a restaurant like Edie’s like we used to?”

“I think the quiet force of nature has a calming effect on troubled souls.”

“I don’t have a troubled soul!” Rhasan protested, and turned toward the window with an attitude just a few shades above a pout.

They sat in silence for the thirty-five minutes it took to reach Muir Woods, each left to his own thoughts. The passing landscape gradually changed from urban to rural as the van wound its way through the hills of western Marin. A low-lying thick, milky fog drifted in off the Pacific and blotted out the sky. The passing trees, made indistinct by the thickening fog, stood slope-shouldered like grim, shadowy presences. Few cars were passed. The road was desolate and the views were limited to occasional breaks in the fog. When they finally pulled into the parking lot at the entrance to the park, there were only ten other cars. Jackson had a few words with the driver then got out with Rhasan. They paid the fee and entered the brooding darkness beneath the park’s towering redwood trees.

Rhasan and Jackson walked for about ten minutes along the paved paths in and around the gigantic redwood trees, some of which were more than twenty feet in circumference. They passed a group of German tourists with teenage children who were bickering among themselves. The harsh and guttural sounds of their language seemed strident against the background of the moist, dark green, dripping silence of the trees. They were soon just disembodied voices swallowed by the thick fog that was flowing down the valley walls of the Woods. The drifting fog combined with the shadows cast by the huge trees and the lush undergrowth to create a shifting, ephemeral darkness around the base of the towering giants.

Rhasan complained, “Man, this place is cold and damp! Why would you want to come to a place like this?”

“I like to feel the fog on my face. It refreshes me.”

“Leave me out of your next trip.”

When the path was clear of other hikers, Jackson turned to Rhasan and said, “Tell me everything about your experience with the Lenzinis.”

Rhasan responded in animated fashion and told the story from the point where he and his friends arrived at the house to the moment they left the men in the construction site down the hill from Jackson’s home. Jackson listened with only an occasional question. After Rhasan completed his tale he spent a few minutes talking about how he would like to get revenge for the beating he took.

Jackson asked, “What is your understanding of the situation I’m involved in?”

Rhasan turned his smooth brown face toward Jackson, and for a moment Jackson saw the child he used to be. Then the teenager returned. A look of cunning crossed Rhasan’s face as he said, “You’re fighting Great-grandfather Tremain’s enemies.”

“Do you know what is at stake?”

Rhasan thought a minute then answered, “No. I just know they’re real interested in talking with you.”

“Did you know that six people have been killed so far?”

A look of shock flashed across Rhasan’s face before it hardened into a frown. He scoffed, “That doesn’t worry me. I can take care of myself!”

“This isn’t about you. This isn’t about me. They want your great-grandfather’s money and organization. Once they get ahold of it, we become unnecessary nuisances. Then they’ll get rid of us as well.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“The first thing I’ve got to do is make sure that all my noncombatants are off the field, that all my family is secure and safe.”

A smirk crossed Rhasan’s face. “Oh, I know where this is headed!”

“Do you? Do you know that eventually I want to turn this whole thing over to you?”

Rhasan’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wha—what?”

“Yes, I want to be able to turn this all over to you, but first you need training and education. You aren’t prepared or ready yet for this level of responsibility.”

“How can you say that? I’ve done what you’ve asked me. I’ve done better! I finished high school as the class valedictorian! You said all along that eighteen was the entrance to manhood. Now I’m here, you don’t want to treat me like a man! What’s up with that?”

The certainty and fervor in Rhasan’s voice made Jackson feel old. He stared off into the tangled undergrowth of ferns, hawthorn, and poison oak. “My nephew, you’re at the entrance of manhood, and although you’re more man than many who are older than you, there are still many lessons you have yet to learn, lessons which will temper your ardor and your anger, your confidence and your anxiety. This job is for the tested.” Jackson moved on down the path.

Rhasan hurried to walk alongside. He declared, “People my age are sent to war all the time!”

“That is true and for the most part, they are used as if they are dispensable. We cannot afford to use our family members in such a manner.”

“How do I get to be tested, if you keep on sheltering me?”

“After you have completed your education, you will have many opportunities to defend the family. Your main job will be to oversee the transition to legitimacy.”

“So, you don’t want my help now? Is that what you’re saying?”

“How can you help? What are you trained to do? Communications? Reconnaissance? What?”

“I, er, I …” Rhasan was momentarily at a loss for words, then he blurted out, “I can fight! I can definitely fight!”

“You can fight? Against professionals?”

Rhasan smacked his chest. “I’ve proved myself in the streets!”

Jackson watched Rhasan’s posturing and decided to change his tactics.
He stood face-to-face with his nephew and said, “Stop me from grabbing your throat.” Not waiting for Rhasan to fully comprehend his statement, Jackson made a couple of half-hearted grabs toward his throat.

Rhasan backpedaled, blocking Jackson’s efforts with his forearms. “What? Come on, Unc. You know you’re no match for me.”

Jackson saw the opening that he was looking for and burst into action. He rushed forward, stepping on Rhasan’s right foot, preventing him from retreating, then he forcefully knocked Rhasan’s hands aside and grabbed his throat in a tight grip.

Rhasan was totally surprised. When Jackson released him, he protested, “That’s not fair. You stepped on my foot!”

“This is a fight to the death! Everything is fair! Right now, you would be a dead man and I’m nowhere as good as a professional.”

A look of delight and excitement entered Rhasan’s eyes. “Can you teach me stuff like that? Can you teach me to fight like a professional?”

“Why would you want to learn? Be smart! Your responsibilities should be in an office. You can buy people to fight for you, if the need arises.”

“I want to be tough like Grandpa Tremain! I want to be able to defend my family and my businesses however I need to!”

“You realize you’re talking about potentially killing people and risking being killed yourself?”

“All my life I’ve heard stories about Grandpa Tremain and how he took you and made a man out of you, how he taught you to live off the land, how he taught you how to shoot and throw a knife. I want to learn all of that! There’s nothing more that I want in my life than to someday be the head of this family and I want to be a powerful man like him. Like he used to be. No disrespect to you, Uncle Jax, but you’re laid-back. I mean, you’re always talking about avoiding violent situations and not getting in trouble and stuff. Sometimes, I thought you’d just turned into an old fuddy-duddy, that you were trying to walk away from everything that Great-grandfather gave you.”

Jackson walked along in silence for a minute thinking that Rhasan was correct. He
had
tried to walk away. He had not taken to his grandfather’s teachings with enthusiasm. He had learned his lessons dutifully, but without joy. He looked at Rhasan out of the corner of his eye. Maybe his nephew was King’s rightful heir and Jackson was just a caretaker
until Rhasan assumed control. The boy certainly evinced an excitement that Jackson had not felt.

“You were trying to walk away, weren’t you, Uncle Jax?”

“Yes, I was. Your great-grandfather’s life wasn’t all butter and cream. There was a lot of discomfort and a lot of violence. He left a trail of dead people. His life didn’t seem all that good to me.”