19240422 06:48:12
TN-S-2660X06
"Greg."
The snoring continued uninterrupted. She made a second attempt by bending over and speaking louder.
"Greg."
His body mode slightly and involuntarily but the snoring still didn't stop. His head was nearly face down onto the sofa pillow. After a brief moment of hesitation and a sigh, she resorted to physically agitating him to get him awake. Pressing on his shoulder enough to rock his body side to side still wasn't enough. Alice repositioned her feet a half pace backwards and slowly reached her hand in to brush against his ear. Greg's left arm suddenly thrust out towards her, but came slowly enough that she managed to weave her body to the side to avoid being hit. As he slowly rustled himself awake and raised his head upwards, the pillow clung to his cheek for a moment before it dropped away in an audibly sticky detachment that left a streak of discolored brown on the fabric. She winced in reaction to seeing the stain.
"Wh-" He was only able to produce half of a syllable before the dryness on his tongue met his mouth and caused him to cough in heaves. Some subsequent deep breaths through the nose indicated that there was some kind of blockage in those passages as well. Once he was able to speak, the words still sounded as if they came from someone much older and frail.
"What."
"I have to go to work soon, Greg, I wanted to tell you good bye. I made some coffee for you."
He turned his head to face Alice directly but didn't have enough strength to fully open his eyes yet.
"Ygnh... you. You woke me up for that? Nghf, f. Fucking." After a sigh, his voice was down to a grated whisper. "Fuck. Fine. Fine. Bring it here then, will ya."
Alice blinked twice, then walked over to the kitchen to fulfill the request. She quickly returned with the half filled mug held in both hands and resumed standing at his side. He twisted his body in place so that he could hoist his torso upwards and receive the beverage, which he indicated as ready to receive by limply waving his arm out towards her.
"Thanks." His response sputtered between his lips as he brought the mug to his face. He tilted the cup back and felt the repulsion hit him immediately in the nose. The aroma from the liquid was from some kind of vegetation, yes, but nothing which registered as coffee in his brain. He interpreted the odor was as if someone had made a tea out of tree bark. Then the liquid poured over his tongue and down his throat and he sensed his very breath stop cold in his mouth as his neck contracted in a vain attempt to restrict the coffee from being consumed. The bitterness wasn't savory but acidic and artificial. Greg covered his mouth and coughed in surprise, and felt some drops of the coffee coarse over his fingers. Alice nervously stepped backwards as glared at her and pulled his hands away to wipe the wet fingers against his clothes.
"What the fuck kind of fucking coffee is that?" His voice and focus was suddenly much clearer.
"Oh uh, I. I don't know. We get it at work, for free. It's in some silver bag, no name, I don't know what it is."
"I-" He coughed more and darted his head around the room before realizing that the phlegm which he had accumulated had nowhere to go but remain inside his mouth. The act of swallowing was equally painful and nauseating. "I don't think that is fucking coffee. That's like grass or some shit. The fuck."
"W, well, I'm sorry Greg, I didn't-"
"Fuck, whatever. Got me awake at least. Fucking christ. Ugh. Well shit I gotta go now, I gotta go get that taste out of my mouth. Maybe lick a horse's ass or something, fucking Jesus."
Pulaski instantly stood up and hurriedly walked to door with a slight wobble still in his step. Alice remained motionless for a full minute as she stared at the door. It was the last time he spoke to her.
Friday, May 2, 2014
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Hiatus or Slowdown / Tax Year 2013
Hi.
This is an announcement that, barring intermittent availability, future entries are on hiatus as I now need to take time for work on my tax form software development for 2013.
I hope to resume writing more entries soon.
This is an announcement that, barring intermittent availability, future entries are on hiatus as I now need to take time for work on my tax form software development for 2013.
I hope to resume writing more entries soon.
Monday, November 11, 2013
19270522 20:46:44
19270522 20:46:44
HN-S-4040
"There's one thing that I haven't mentioned to you yet, and the man reminded me to do so earlier today." Western paused his address by picking up his cigar and twirling the tip of it in his fingers as he exhaled a stream of smoke. "This hasn't had to come up in a while since you're the only freshness that we've had in a spell, so we don't know of any other attempts she's made in the same span. I doubt there's been any. Anyway, you're aware that T has a few relations, right?"
"Right, uh, one of each I think, right?"
"Yep."
Ridgeland was about to prod the conversation on by asking what point there was to bring them up, but he knew Western would get to it eventually.
"So the main thing you need to know about her -" Western let a gap of breath sit in the air before and after the pronoun, which could have been interpreted as him considering her with a layer of contempt, then continued to say, "is that she's not with us. And the problem with that is she's not dumb, and she understands things around her, and she's had some, uh, unfortunate situations come around in her life, so the combination of that with some folks always telling her 'no' to some things means that she tries to dance her way around the tape, you know? One consequence of this is that unlike you and me, she doesn't have the same tool at her disposal which we do. So this means that there may come a time where she might introduce herself to you and be all friendly and nice and such, and being so isn't a farce, as she is proper and respectful and all, but. But. She may have a motive in tow. And that motive may be for you to help her have a tool of her own, like we have."
"Really? And that's forbidden?" Ridgeland drummed the fingers of his right hand against the bar top to contemplate the situation. He didn't need to think about it long to reach the general logic and inherent conflict, but still felt compelled to give his own interpretation of how it should ultimately be resolved. "I think that as long as it's clear that she would only possess it for her own self defense, then it should be allowed. She would have what she wants and there would be no secrets kept between her and everyone else."
"But doesn't that constitute an indictment upon our ability to handle our business?" Western said this more to echo the explanation given to him rather than his own beliefs, and as a way to gauge his reaction.
"Well, no, I don't think so. Accidents happen, and there's only so much any of us can do. And if she has truly has had some unfortunate accidents, as you have said, then perhaps that is the best direction forward."
"Fair enough, but these are orders here so don't forget it. Got it?"
"I got it, yeah."
Ridgeland cradled his beer mug into both of his hands and tilted it to his lips slowly so that he could draw out the process of taking the liquid in and drinking it down. In the silence of the moment, he wondered how many attempts were made for this order to be disobeyed.
HN-S-4040
"There's one thing that I haven't mentioned to you yet, and the man reminded me to do so earlier today." Western paused his address by picking up his cigar and twirling the tip of it in his fingers as he exhaled a stream of smoke. "This hasn't had to come up in a while since you're the only freshness that we've had in a spell, so we don't know of any other attempts she's made in the same span. I doubt there's been any. Anyway, you're aware that T has a few relations, right?"
"Right, uh, one of each I think, right?"
"Yep."
Ridgeland was about to prod the conversation on by asking what point there was to bring them up, but he knew Western would get to it eventually.
"So the main thing you need to know about her -" Western let a gap of breath sit in the air before and after the pronoun, which could have been interpreted as him considering her with a layer of contempt, then continued to say, "is that she's not with us. And the problem with that is she's not dumb, and she understands things around her, and she's had some, uh, unfortunate situations come around in her life, so the combination of that with some folks always telling her 'no' to some things means that she tries to dance her way around the tape, you know? One consequence of this is that unlike you and me, she doesn't have the same tool at her disposal which we do. So this means that there may come a time where she might introduce herself to you and be all friendly and nice and such, and being so isn't a farce, as she is proper and respectful and all, but. But. She may have a motive in tow. And that motive may be for you to help her have a tool of her own, like we have."
"Really? And that's forbidden?" Ridgeland drummed the fingers of his right hand against the bar top to contemplate the situation. He didn't need to think about it long to reach the general logic and inherent conflict, but still felt compelled to give his own interpretation of how it should ultimately be resolved. "I think that as long as it's clear that she would only possess it for her own self defense, then it should be allowed. She would have what she wants and there would be no secrets kept between her and everyone else."
"But doesn't that constitute an indictment upon our ability to handle our business?" Western said this more to echo the explanation given to him rather than his own beliefs, and as a way to gauge his reaction.
"Well, no, I don't think so. Accidents happen, and there's only so much any of us can do. And if she has truly has had some unfortunate accidents, as you have said, then perhaps that is the best direction forward."
"Fair enough, but these are orders here so don't forget it. Got it?"
"I got it, yeah."
Ridgeland cradled his beer mug into both of his hands and tilted it to his lips slowly so that he could draw out the process of taking the liquid in and drinking it down. In the silence of the moment, he wondered how many attempts were made for this order to be disobeyed.
Friday, November 8, 2013
18370706 21:34:05
18370706 21:34:05
Daron heard the footsteps approach the other side of the barn and felt his teeth grind together as he anticipated having to correct him on procedure yet again, but thankfully that didn't happen now. Three knocks came against the wooden wall instead; two quick taps, followed by a pause before the third.
"Doc."
"Yes, sir." Despite the answer coming in a whisper, the inflection and pace that came with the words confirmed Doctor Kufo's identify to Daron.
"So I need to know - what is happening with your crop production? I've been wondering how you've done, both for quantity and how folks like the taste. I've been waiting for months. I see you gather all of that corn, all of the vegetables. You have it out there. But I don't see nobody taking it besides me. I have people looking out, I've been asking around, and everyone tells me they're getting it from Tarro's pal instead. So what's this about?"
"That's the thing. We are selling it, we are moving it, but not in the open. People are coming to us in the middle of the night or on the side. They are keeping their transactions with us a secret."
"What? You have been selling? Really?"
"Yes sir! We are indeed bringing out new product as our old crop gets bought."
Daron turned his head away from the wall and looked blankly forward into the darkness of the barn. The people were buying their crops, but in secret. In secret. An underground market had actually formed for their goods. Was the Reverend's power really that great, if not that of the church which he represented? Since when did the common type of person living on this farm have such a seeming concern about the judgement of others? What mattered to Daron more, though, was knowing that this all likely came about because of that public display which was held earlier in the year. The Reverend's interpretation of that as a confrontation appeared to have created this kind of effect after all. He then knew that a different course needed to be taken in the future, but what kind of communication and relationship should these doctors have with himself or the rest of the community at large?
"Sir?" Doctor Kufo was beginning to wonder why the conversation came to a sudden and prolonged stop.
"Doc, we need to set new rules. This is all my fault, and it shouldn't have been like this."
"New rules? What about?"
"Well, one thing's for sure; as long as Tarro's here, you guys can't make a public spectacle of your work like you've done before. At best, it'll make a shadow market like you got here, and at worse, it'll ruin your work. I can't have that."
"Sir, as long as we're able to put our product to use and sale, one way or another, we can handle-"
"No, no, no! Not like that, no. This is my farm, this is my property, and he came here to live on my property, and I will not have him assume a higher authority than me on my own fucking property, do you understand? You and the rest of us here, we're a family here, and I will not have someone from the outside come into my family and lay law in it. No."
"Uh, I uh, understand then, yes. What are we going to do, then?"
"We'll have to think about it. But above all, we'll have to keep quiet. Even more so now." After saying this, Daron turned on his heels and quickly stepped out of the barn, and returned to his house while wondering how he wasn't able to tell that the black market had arisen right under his nose.
Daron heard the footsteps approach the other side of the barn and felt his teeth grind together as he anticipated having to correct him on procedure yet again, but thankfully that didn't happen now. Three knocks came against the wooden wall instead; two quick taps, followed by a pause before the third.
"Doc."
"Yes, sir." Despite the answer coming in a whisper, the inflection and pace that came with the words confirmed Doctor Kufo's identify to Daron.
"So I need to know - what is happening with your crop production? I've been wondering how you've done, both for quantity and how folks like the taste. I've been waiting for months. I see you gather all of that corn, all of the vegetables. You have it out there. But I don't see nobody taking it besides me. I have people looking out, I've been asking around, and everyone tells me they're getting it from Tarro's pal instead. So what's this about?"
"That's the thing. We are selling it, we are moving it, but not in the open. People are coming to us in the middle of the night or on the side. They are keeping their transactions with us a secret."
"What? You have been selling? Really?"
"Yes sir! We are indeed bringing out new product as our old crop gets bought."
Daron turned his head away from the wall and looked blankly forward into the darkness of the barn. The people were buying their crops, but in secret. In secret. An underground market had actually formed for their goods. Was the Reverend's power really that great, if not that of the church which he represented? Since when did the common type of person living on this farm have such a seeming concern about the judgement of others? What mattered to Daron more, though, was knowing that this all likely came about because of that public display which was held earlier in the year. The Reverend's interpretation of that as a confrontation appeared to have created this kind of effect after all. He then knew that a different course needed to be taken in the future, but what kind of communication and relationship should these doctors have with himself or the rest of the community at large?
"Sir?" Doctor Kufo was beginning to wonder why the conversation came to a sudden and prolonged stop.
"Doc, we need to set new rules. This is all my fault, and it shouldn't have been like this."
"New rules? What about?"
"Well, one thing's for sure; as long as Tarro's here, you guys can't make a public spectacle of your work like you've done before. At best, it'll make a shadow market like you got here, and at worse, it'll ruin your work. I can't have that."
"Sir, as long as we're able to put our product to use and sale, one way or another, we can handle-"
"No, no, no! Not like that, no. This is my farm, this is my property, and he came here to live on my property, and I will not have him assume a higher authority than me on my own fucking property, do you understand? You and the rest of us here, we're a family here, and I will not have someone from the outside come into my family and lay law in it. No."
"Uh, I uh, understand then, yes. What are we going to do, then?"
"We'll have to think about it. But above all, we'll have to keep quiet. Even more so now." After saying this, Daron turned on his heels and quickly stepped out of the barn, and returned to his house while wondering how he wasn't able to tell that the black market had arisen right under his nose.
Thursday, November 7, 2013
18370409 11:43:06
18370409 11:43:06
(Note: Date and previous header of "18370410 12:06:19" has been revised to "18370409 11:18:19")
The amount of force that he put into his steps as he paced back and forth in the room was great enough to cause the floor to visibly bend. This spectacle combined with the audible yet indecipherable mumbling that came from the Reverend's mouth was enough to make his wife hesitate to speak up, despite her growing increasingly concerned for her husband's well being. After several minutes of watching the man pace from one wall to the other, she couldn't help herself to stay quiet any longer and felt forced to interject.
"Love, what was so terrible about what had happened there? Didn't they-"
"What was so terrible?" Reverend Tarro spun on his heels and leaned his body in to shout the counter question with such force that it caused her to reflexively raise her arms upward in defense. "What! How about everything! Everything was terrible about that! They made a damned fool out of me there, did you not see that? Did you not hear that? Those infernal men, they think they're so righteous and enlightened, those fools, those damned hell bound fools! Damn them! May the Lord damn them and strike them down!"
"A- Alan! Alan! Please, must you be so emotional?"
"Darling, they, th-" He stammered in place and pointed a finger behind him, towards the door to the shack, straining to find the right words to convey his anger without merely screaming out. He finally managed to compose himself and lower his voice before speaking again. "They made a fool out of me out there. That's the main thing that they did. Both of them, and I bet Daron too, I bet you he was in on it. I bet he could have even suggested that display to them! That would make sense, yes, that would explain it all. All of them being snakes like that, yes, yes, I could see it now. Making arrangements out of sight to put me down. But did you hear that man, that Doctor Garr? How he said that to me - about how someone who is a leader should make a choice about that dirt sample or whatever pageantry he did there? Did you hear that? Did you see the look in his face as he asked me that? Oh that snake, that dog, that blasted snake - that smug grin on his face. Did you hear that come from him?"
"No, not like that." In truth, though, she did, but she knew that in times like this it was better to remain as tacit and pliant as she possibly could be and let him roll all the steam and bluster out of him as he can. The high intensity anger seemed to be subsiding, which meant that the brooding and scheming would come from him next.
"Well, one thing's for sure," He paused mid-sentence to turn to her side and let himself fall into the loveseat next to her. He puffed out a long breath as he stretched his feet out over the floor. "I will not ever try to act in confidence with that Daron anymore, absolutely not! Now I know that man cannot be trusted. Never, never. As for those other men, though. Those scientists there. I don't what I can do to deflate them some."
"All you can do is preach the Lord's love and forgiveness, and his will to judge the wicked."
The Reverend nodded silently in initial response, though the nodding motion was undertaken by his entire torso, which effectively made him rock back and forth in his seat. "Well, y'know what darling, you are right about that one too, yes. Here we are on the Sabbath and they made a demonstration about work. That's as clear cut of a violation of God's law as there ever has been. That is it. And everyone witnessed it too. No hearsay there. No room for misinterpretation. Hopefully, all I need to do is point that out to get people to see it the right way."
"Just keep it level, love."
"Keep it- of course! What do you take me for! Pah!" He turned his head away with a wave of his hand. "I'll do it the right way, just you watch. Just remind them that for all their brains, for all their sacred enlightenment, that it wast he Lord who inspired them to begin with. All things through Him. All things. They just need to be gently reminded, in case they got swept up and forgot."
"You'll right their course, love." She turned to kiss him on the forehead with a smile, then promptly sat up to exit to the kitchen and let him brood. She was happy to make the escape.
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
18360122 06:57:28
18360122 06:57:28
"So hello hello! You are Daron Hoobler then, yes yes? Your friend Frederic sent me here! I am glad to be here at last! It was a trial getting through that trail with a quickness over the mud and cold, it sure was. The name's Joe!" He shot his hand out with a stiff stretch and held it out in the air. Daron stood dumbly still for a moment before he blinked to attention and reciprocated the gesture. In Joe's grasp and shake, his hand felt like a limp noodle.
"Yes, I'm Daron, it's nice to meet you Mister Joe, uh - is that, uh, how you want to be addressed? I mean, do you have a last-"
"Yeah that's fine Daron! Yes. No I haven't really taken a last name, like a proper one. Some folk called me Joe the Mime or Joe Mime sometimes, but that was only a few of them." Joe's eyes trailed off to the side as he made mention of that fact, and quickly snapped back to look up to Daron after a brief pause. "But anyways we got a lot to talk about and I don't think yall wanna do it out here, do yas? No no, not here, no."
"Uh, right, yes. I can have the boy tend to your horse, then." Daron turned to walk over to the doorway of the cabin and leaned his body inside the room.
"The boy? What boy's that?"
"Jesse, c'mon and take the guest's ride up. We got some things to talk. Some things. And yeah, take them too. You all best bundle up." With the last sentences, he waved his arm to point at the two Poole children.
Joe politely stood in place and waited with Daron for the children to leave to enter the cabin.
"That there's Jesse, Saul, and Marian. None of them are my own."
"I was just gonna ask, ha ha! Nice to meet you, children! I'm Joe! Glad to be here." Jesse turned to wave and say hello as he walked over to the horse and proceeded to lead it by the reins to the barn. The two Poole children walked past Joe without any kind of response and quietly followed Jesse as he took the horse away. Daron waved an arm in a circle to invite Joe to follow him inside the cabin. Daron poured more coffee into the tin cup which he had previously used and placed it in front of Joe as he stretched his legs out under the table with an exasperated sigh of relief.
"Whew! Good lord I'm just not a rider, my ass gets all tensed up and my legs get all stiffed up just doin that for a day, I could never be a soldier I tell you, yes yes."
Daron pulled his chair back and leaned his body forward over the table upon his forearms as he sat down across from Joe. His weak smile was quickly dropped and the tone of his voice was now sharply hurried and reduced in volume.
"Joe, forgive my lack of manners but I don't want to keep those children waiting out there forever, and I'm hoping that we have some rather serious business to discuss first."
"Yes, Daron, yes. Frederic told me about your situation and what you needed, and told me to expect you and the children here, and it's just as he said. I have this document prepared for you." Joe pulled a long white envelope out from the inside of his coat and placed it on the table. A red insignia of wax sealed the opening. "It's a Certificate of Death for one Whitney Poole, having died on December 27 1835 and the signatures of the Baltimore Morgue Director and Baltimore City Clerk. A copy of this document is in their records and it can be found on their files on demand. We set that in place. And as I hope you can assume from my name - these documents are all genuine forgeries which are identical to the finest detail. The signatures they have and the forms written look exactly like other Death Certificates on file, and all we needed to do from there is give a tip to the Clerk's secretary to get it added to their records. The widow can open this to see it for herself, and if she demands to return to Baltimore yet again for more proof, she'll find it there. It's all done."
"Oh, what a relief, what an incredible relief." Daron wrung his hands coarsely over each other and felt as if a physical weight was lifted off of his shoulders. "I do not know how to thank you enough."
"Well, Daron, I think you can do so, though, yes. Yes, while I have indeed made something of a name for myself back in the city there, I had to keep my talents, uh, limited, you see? See, I know that if you give me a pen and a letter, I can copy it. But see, that means if you can give me a brush and a painting, I can copy it. I got that eye, and while all around me folks are buying up all kinds of art and using their paper money to buy all that art and everything else, nobody ever asked me to copy that kind of stuff before. They was all afraid, they was yes. They look at me and think I can't do it. Well, you give me a place to stay here with you, I can show you I can do it - and that'll help you out as much as anyone else here, wouldn't it? I think so, yes yes!"
"I suppose that is true, if you can indeed perform the task, Joe." Daron smiled outwardly but suddenly felt as if the weight that had just been lifted off of his shoulders was slowly sliding back onto his body. Everything he had here was thanks to stolen money, and now he faced a proposal to use counterfeit money as well. Was he doomed to forever use illegitimate means to sustain himself?
"So hello hello! You are Daron Hoobler then, yes yes? Your friend Frederic sent me here! I am glad to be here at last! It was a trial getting through that trail with a quickness over the mud and cold, it sure was. The name's Joe!" He shot his hand out with a stiff stretch and held it out in the air. Daron stood dumbly still for a moment before he blinked to attention and reciprocated the gesture. In Joe's grasp and shake, his hand felt like a limp noodle.
"Yes, I'm Daron, it's nice to meet you Mister Joe, uh - is that, uh, how you want to be addressed? I mean, do you have a last-"
"Yeah that's fine Daron! Yes. No I haven't really taken a last name, like a proper one. Some folk called me Joe the Mime or Joe Mime sometimes, but that was only a few of them." Joe's eyes trailed off to the side as he made mention of that fact, and quickly snapped back to look up to Daron after a brief pause. "But anyways we got a lot to talk about and I don't think yall wanna do it out here, do yas? No no, not here, no."
"Uh, right, yes. I can have the boy tend to your horse, then." Daron turned to walk over to the doorway of the cabin and leaned his body inside the room.
"The boy? What boy's that?"
"Jesse, c'mon and take the guest's ride up. We got some things to talk. Some things. And yeah, take them too. You all best bundle up." With the last sentences, he waved his arm to point at the two Poole children.
Joe politely stood in place and waited with Daron for the children to leave to enter the cabin.
"That there's Jesse, Saul, and Marian. None of them are my own."
"I was just gonna ask, ha ha! Nice to meet you, children! I'm Joe! Glad to be here." Jesse turned to wave and say hello as he walked over to the horse and proceeded to lead it by the reins to the barn. The two Poole children walked past Joe without any kind of response and quietly followed Jesse as he took the horse away. Daron waved an arm in a circle to invite Joe to follow him inside the cabin. Daron poured more coffee into the tin cup which he had previously used and placed it in front of Joe as he stretched his legs out under the table with an exasperated sigh of relief.
"Whew! Good lord I'm just not a rider, my ass gets all tensed up and my legs get all stiffed up just doin that for a day, I could never be a soldier I tell you, yes yes."
Daron pulled his chair back and leaned his body forward over the table upon his forearms as he sat down across from Joe. His weak smile was quickly dropped and the tone of his voice was now sharply hurried and reduced in volume.
"Joe, forgive my lack of manners but I don't want to keep those children waiting out there forever, and I'm hoping that we have some rather serious business to discuss first."
"Yes, Daron, yes. Frederic told me about your situation and what you needed, and told me to expect you and the children here, and it's just as he said. I have this document prepared for you." Joe pulled a long white envelope out from the inside of his coat and placed it on the table. A red insignia of wax sealed the opening. "It's a Certificate of Death for one Whitney Poole, having died on December 27 1835 and the signatures of the Baltimore Morgue Director and Baltimore City Clerk. A copy of this document is in their records and it can be found on their files on demand. We set that in place. And as I hope you can assume from my name - these documents are all genuine forgeries which are identical to the finest detail. The signatures they have and the forms written look exactly like other Death Certificates on file, and all we needed to do from there is give a tip to the Clerk's secretary to get it added to their records. The widow can open this to see it for herself, and if she demands to return to Baltimore yet again for more proof, she'll find it there. It's all done."
"Oh, what a relief, what an incredible relief." Daron wrung his hands coarsely over each other and felt as if a physical weight was lifted off of his shoulders. "I do not know how to thank you enough."
"Well, Daron, I think you can do so, though, yes. Yes, while I have indeed made something of a name for myself back in the city there, I had to keep my talents, uh, limited, you see? See, I know that if you give me a pen and a letter, I can copy it. But see, that means if you can give me a brush and a painting, I can copy it. I got that eye, and while all around me folks are buying up all kinds of art and using their paper money to buy all that art and everything else, nobody ever asked me to copy that kind of stuff before. They was all afraid, they was yes. They look at me and think I can't do it. Well, you give me a place to stay here with you, I can show you I can do it - and that'll help you out as much as anyone else here, wouldn't it? I think so, yes yes!"
"I suppose that is true, if you can indeed perform the task, Joe." Daron smiled outwardly but suddenly felt as if the weight that had just been lifted off of his shoulders was slowly sliding back onto his body. Everything he had here was thanks to stolen money, and now he faced a proposal to use counterfeit money as well. Was he doomed to forever use illegitimate means to sustain himself?
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
18370409 11:18:19
18370409 11:18:19
"Mister Reverend Tarro, would you care to choose a location for us to gather this sample? You may choose anywhere you like."
Doctor Garr Peterson extended his hand out to the Reverend as he made this offer, which compelled most of the other people in the crowd to turn to look at the preacher. The man winced with discomfort in response before speaking.
"I'm uh, I'm sure that my particular choice is not exactly required for your demonstration, and this may be something which is more suited to your expertise."
"To the contrary, Reverend, I ask you specifically to undertake this request as we stand in the shadow of your church and to demonstrate that our assertions are applicable everywhere within this fine town. Otherwise, if you insist on demurring, I can ask a person - a leader - like Mister Hoobler here to do select the location instead."
"Fine." The Reverend glared back at the Doctor, and kept his stare fixed. "Take the sample from where I presently stand. May it show that the Lord compelled me to stand there for this purpose."
"Excellent. Gentlemen, shall we?"
The two pairs of two men flanked at the Doctor's sides silently took up their stepstools and sledgehammers, and walked to form a circle around the spot where the Reverend had stood. Doctor Garr walked over with the metal pole and stood it up on end in the middle of the four men, and held it in position with his gloved hand. He now spoke louder so that he could be heard to the edge of the crowd around them.
"This painted stripe around this hollow pole here marks one yard. These men shall now drive this pole into the ground until this marking, and then pull it back out again."
With a nod from the Doctor as he held it steady, the men took to striking the top of the pole in sequence so that it could be driven down in rapid succession. The pole sunk into the ground to the desired length within a few minutes. The Doctor stepped away to allow the men to grasp the pole, and in half of the time it had taken to drive the pole into the earth, they had managed to twist and pull the pole out from the hole.
"Now, this sample shall be extracted by forcing it out from the bottom through the top."
The stepstools were situated to align in a row, and the pole was laid on top of them. A white sheet was placed on the ground at the top end in order to collect the soil. Two of the four men now followed their next instruction, as one held a solid metal rod at the plugged end of the pole while the other struck at it with the sledgehammer. After eight strikes, the soil was fully extracted from the pole and the soil fell out onto the sheet. While the two men did this, Doctor Garr pulled a cloth covered tray and laid it beside the sheet where the soil would land, then pulled the sheet away once it had fallen out. The sheet concealed another soil sample which had the same basic appearance as the one that was just extracted in front of the crowd.
"This is another sample that I had collected earlier, and you can see that the sample we have just obtained now is roughly the same. This, ladies and gentlemen, is the main limitation that is now imposed on your crop. This discoloration you can see and touch to feel at the bottom of both samples here is hardened soil and clay - materials in which no crops can take root to grow. Your current methods of tilling do not loosen this hard clay up enough to maximize your yields. When Doctor Kufo and myself realized this issue, we sought to create something which would remedy this situation, and what we have created I am happy to reveal to you all today." With a smile, Doctor Garr nodded to Doctor Kufo, and both men bent down to pick up opposite ends of the large white canvas tarp that covered their invention. The men pulled it down, and the device came into view. It stood about eight feet tall and had two large wooden triangle bases, with a circular axis that connected the bases at the top. In the middle of the axis, a long metal arm stretched out at an angle and held a very large metallic pick at its other end. A long length of rope was connected to the back of the pick's head, and other free lengths of rope were seen wrapped tightly around the bottom bases as well as coming from a hole within the center of the axis at the top. The crowd remained silent with the unveiling and looked upon the machine in curious apprehension.
"Ladies and gentlemen, what you see here is a device with which the soil can be tilled to the depth that will loosen that hardened soil and clay which is now deep under our feet. No till which is currently on the field or the market, no till which an ordinary man or team can use, will ever penetrate the earth deep enough to till this compressed and infertile soil. With this device, one team of men will be able to pull the blade down to dig up the earth at such depths, and another team uses the ropes found at the bases there to maintain stability and traction. These devices can be easily made and soon you will see dozens of these on your fields. This is the solution to your crop yields, right here!"
The tone among the crowd gradually became livelier, and Daron started to nod and applaud the two Doctors, which compelled others in the crowd to join in. Reverend Tarro stood with a grimace and his arms crossed.
"Mister Reverend Tarro, would you care to choose a location for us to gather this sample? You may choose anywhere you like."
Doctor Garr Peterson extended his hand out to the Reverend as he made this offer, which compelled most of the other people in the crowd to turn to look at the preacher. The man winced with discomfort in response before speaking.
"I'm uh, I'm sure that my particular choice is not exactly required for your demonstration, and this may be something which is more suited to your expertise."
"To the contrary, Reverend, I ask you specifically to undertake this request as we stand in the shadow of your church and to demonstrate that our assertions are applicable everywhere within this fine town. Otherwise, if you insist on demurring, I can ask a person - a leader - like Mister Hoobler here to do select the location instead."
"Fine." The Reverend glared back at the Doctor, and kept his stare fixed. "Take the sample from where I presently stand. May it show that the Lord compelled me to stand there for this purpose."
"Excellent. Gentlemen, shall we?"
The two pairs of two men flanked at the Doctor's sides silently took up their stepstools and sledgehammers, and walked to form a circle around the spot where the Reverend had stood. Doctor Garr walked over with the metal pole and stood it up on end in the middle of the four men, and held it in position with his gloved hand. He now spoke louder so that he could be heard to the edge of the crowd around them.
"This painted stripe around this hollow pole here marks one yard. These men shall now drive this pole into the ground until this marking, and then pull it back out again."
With a nod from the Doctor as he held it steady, the men took to striking the top of the pole in sequence so that it could be driven down in rapid succession. The pole sunk into the ground to the desired length within a few minutes. The Doctor stepped away to allow the men to grasp the pole, and in half of the time it had taken to drive the pole into the earth, they had managed to twist and pull the pole out from the hole.
"Now, this sample shall be extracted by forcing it out from the bottom through the top."
The stepstools were situated to align in a row, and the pole was laid on top of them. A white sheet was placed on the ground at the top end in order to collect the soil. Two of the four men now followed their next instruction, as one held a solid metal rod at the plugged end of the pole while the other struck at it with the sledgehammer. After eight strikes, the soil was fully extracted from the pole and the soil fell out onto the sheet. While the two men did this, Doctor Garr pulled a cloth covered tray and laid it beside the sheet where the soil would land, then pulled the sheet away once it had fallen out. The sheet concealed another soil sample which had the same basic appearance as the one that was just extracted in front of the crowd.
"This is another sample that I had collected earlier, and you can see that the sample we have just obtained now is roughly the same. This, ladies and gentlemen, is the main limitation that is now imposed on your crop. This discoloration you can see and touch to feel at the bottom of both samples here is hardened soil and clay - materials in which no crops can take root to grow. Your current methods of tilling do not loosen this hard clay up enough to maximize your yields. When Doctor Kufo and myself realized this issue, we sought to create something which would remedy this situation, and what we have created I am happy to reveal to you all today." With a smile, Doctor Garr nodded to Doctor Kufo, and both men bent down to pick up opposite ends of the large white canvas tarp that covered their invention. The men pulled it down, and the device came into view. It stood about eight feet tall and had two large wooden triangle bases, with a circular axis that connected the bases at the top. In the middle of the axis, a long metal arm stretched out at an angle and held a very large metallic pick at its other end. A long length of rope was connected to the back of the pick's head, and other free lengths of rope were seen wrapped tightly around the bottom bases as well as coming from a hole within the center of the axis at the top. The crowd remained silent with the unveiling and looked upon the machine in curious apprehension.
"Ladies and gentlemen, what you see here is a device with which the soil can be tilled to the depth that will loosen that hardened soil and clay which is now deep under our feet. No till which is currently on the field or the market, no till which an ordinary man or team can use, will ever penetrate the earth deep enough to till this compressed and infertile soil. With this device, one team of men will be able to pull the blade down to dig up the earth at such depths, and another team uses the ropes found at the bases there to maintain stability and traction. These devices can be easily made and soon you will see dozens of these on your fields. This is the solution to your crop yields, right here!"
The tone among the crowd gradually became livelier, and Daron started to nod and applaud the two Doctors, which compelled others in the crowd to join in. Reverend Tarro stood with a grimace and his arms crossed.
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