Simpler Times Read online

  The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual names, persons, businesses, and incidents is strictly coincidental. Locations are used only in the general sense and do not represent the real place in actuality.

  SIMPLER TIMES

  By

  JERRY D. YOUNG

  Creative Texts Edition

  Copyright 2015

  By JERRY D. YOUNG

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Published by

  CREATIVE TEXTS PUBLISHERS

  BARTO, PA

  www.creativetexts.com

  COVER PHOTO USED BY LICENSE

  CREDIT:

  PROLOGUE

  Glenn Murphy smoothly merged the big old Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman into the high speed stream of traffic on Interstate 55 South, leaving St. Louis behind him. Actually, it was less that Glenn was leaving as it was he was headed for something.

  Glenn’s Uncle Titus had died and left his farm and ranch near Cape Girardeau, Missouri to Glenn. It had been a very long time since he’d visited his Uncle. Not since he was a teen. His memories of the summer he’d spent on the farm and ranch were fond ones.

  He was tired of the nine to five, conniving, back stabbing life of the corporate world. It was time for a change. A change back to simpler times.

  …Well, it was a thought.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Glenn arrived at the hotel just in time to freshen up, change clothes, and get to the graveside funeral service. There weren’t very many people in attendance. Glenn remembered his Uncle as a gregarious man, with a ready tip of the hat to women, and a slap on the back or handshake for men. It had seemed he knew everyone they met when Glenn went into the Cape with him to pick up supplies, or look at a prospective purchase of farm equipment, or attend a stock sale that Uncle Titus either had stock in to sell or was there looking to buy some.

  Very much to his surprise, the black veiled widow was pointed out to him. Glenn didn’t even know Uncle Titus had remarried after Aunt Cecelia’s death. With the first handfuls of dirt on the coffin, the small group began to break up.

  An elderly man in a black suit came over to Glenn and introduced himself. “You must be Glenn, Titus’ nephew. I’m Harvey Benbeck, your Uncle’s attorney. We have quite a bit to talk about. A few things have come up since I called you about your Uncle’s death.”

  “Okay. When and where?”

  “At my office, before the official reading of the will. If you want, you can follow me in.”

  Glenn nodded, his glance suddenly going to the widow. The veil was still down, but Glenn could tell she was laughing, along with the man at her side. He suddenly had an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

  It took nearly twenty minutes to get to Benbeck’s office. Glenn had a hard time keeping up with him. He was a very fast and risk taking driver, unlike Glenn. But they both got to the office alive, much to Glenn’s surprise.

  Benbeck looked at his watch as they entered his office suite. “The reading of the will is set for one. We have a few minutes.” Again Glenn followed Benbeck, this time into his private office, past a very attractive secretary/paralegal.

  Motioning to one of the leather chairs in front of the desk, Benbeck sat down behind the desk. “Okay, son, there are some things you need to know. I’m skating on thin ice, but I’ve been Titus’ attorney and friend for many years. I think I owe it to him to try to see that his wishes are carried out.”

  “But the will… That would be his wishes, wouldn’t it?”

  “Debra is going to contest the will. She says she has a more recent one that Titus entrusted her with just before his death. She’s always had her own attorney. She says he wrote it up and Titus signed it. She hasn’t produced it yet, but she will at the reading. I just wanted to let you know that this will not be cut and dried the way I thought it would.”

  Glenn could only nod. So much for going back to simpler times.

  It was as Benbeck said. When she arrived, no longer wearing black, or a veil, she had her attorney with her, and he immediately gave an envelope to Benbeck as they seated themselves around the large table in Benbeck’s conference room.

  “Who’s this? The kid’s lawyer?” Debra asked, looking closely at Glenn.

  “Not quite,” Benbeck said, carefully hiding his smile. “This is Titus’ nephew, Glenn.”

  “Him! But Titus’ nephew is twelve!”

  “Afraid not, Aunt Debra. I was twelve when I came to stay with Uncle Titus when my mother was going through a difficult pregnancy.” It still pained Glenn to bring it up. His mother had died giving birth to Glenn’s sister. Still unnamed, the baby girl died after two days in pediatric intensive care.

  “But Titus said…” Her words faded and a grim line replaced the earlier smile.

  “Be that as it may,” Allan Stockmeyer, Debra’s attorney said, “Glenn’s age does not matter. If you will be so kind as to look at the papers I handed you, you will see that his presence, no matter what his age, is irrelevant in these proceedings.”

  Benbeck opened the envelope and took out the legal papers it contained. He read through the entire document silently. Stockmeyer and Debra were whispering back and forth. Glenn just stared into space, the memories of his mother occupying him.

  Finally, Benbeck put the papers down. He looked at Debra and said, “File the papers. We’ll see you in court.”

  “Allan you said…”

  Stockmeyer cut her off. “I know what I said. I told you this was not only possible, but probable. Let’s go. I’ve already got the papers ready to file with the court.”

  “Of course you know that you will have to produce the original will in court. Titus had a very distinctive signature.”

  “Careful what you say, Benbeck,” Debra said, her voice showing her anger. “You imply that we are doing something illegal, I’ll slap a libel suit on you so fast you won’t believe it.”

  “Not implying anything,” Benbeck calmly replied, rising from his chair. “Just stating a fact.”

  “We’ll let the facts speak for themselves,” Stockmeyer said coolly. “Come along, Debra.”

  The two left and Benbeck turned to Glenn. “I can recommend a good attorney,” he said.

  “Oh. I thought you would represent me.”

  Benbeck grinned. “I need to be free to be an unbiased witness in the case. Stockmeyer isn’t the Perry Mason he thinks he is. I intend to see that Titus’ real wishes are carried out.”

  It took three months, but Glenn finally owned the farm and ranch. The signature on the original documents Stockmeyer had drawn up were quickly proven to be very competent forgeries, but forgeries never the less. That, in addition to Benbeck’s and three other witnesses’ testimony that Titus had talked to them about what he wanted when he died, just three days before his death, a month after the supposed new will date, sealed the case.

  Debra had received the clothes, jewelry, and car that Titus had bought for her, plus the condo that Titus and Debra had moved into after they were married. She claimed that it had been all Stockmeyer’s doing and that she was innocent of perjury, and attempted fraud. Stockmeyer eventually got disbarred. Debra went scot-free.

  Glenn got the farm and ranch property and operation, along with a goodly sum of money that Debra had not known about. Glenn had been under a restraining order not to approach the farm during the legal battle. When he finally was able to go out to it, he was shocked. The ranch house, barns, and other out buildings were a mess.

  Immediately after they were married Debra began pestering Titus to sell everything, but he had resisted that. He had completely quit operating the farm, at Debra’s insistence, selling all the stock and equipment, leasing out the land, and moving to the condo in the Cape. She continued to try to get him to sell the farm
and ranch, up until the day he died.

  Glenn was at a loss. He was no farmer or rancher. He’d expected to come to the place, hire a General Manager, and live on the property and learn how to run it over time. That wasn’t going to be the case.

  He did move to the ranch house, but was more camping out there than living in it. The place had been heavily vandalized, as had the other buildings over the last few years, with no one there to prevent it.

  It had been a party house for college students for a couple of years, until the people running a meth lab took it over. A lot of damage was done when the Missouri Joint Drug Task Force shut the lab down. That included hundreds of bullet holes in the buildings and several small fires caused by flash/bang and teargas grenades fired through the windows of the buildings. Titus was lucky the land wasn’t confiscated because of the meth lab operation, despite his not knowing anything about it.

  Glenn was sitting on what was left of the front porch of the house, contemplating the future for the place, when a pickup truck came up the lane and stopped. A young woman got out of the cab of the truck and walked up to the porch.

  Glenn took note of the woman’s youth and beauty, despite the ragged college sweatshirt and torn jeans she was wearing, her long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. “Can I help you?” Glenn said.

  “I hope so,” the woman said. “Are you Glenn Murphy?”

  Glenn nodded. “And you are…?”

  Brittany Jones-Shaeffer. I want to talk to you about the farm and ranch.”

  He didn’t know what he wanted to do with it, but Glenn knew he didn’t want to sell it. His uncle had resisted some pretty strong persuasion to keep it in the family, and Glenn wanted to honor his uncle’s wishes. He said as much. “The place isn’t for sale.”

  “I doubt if we could afford it, anyway,” Brittany said. “What I want to talk to you about was what it would take to start an organic farming operation on part of it.”

  “We? Who is we?”

  “Some fellow graduate students at the agricultural college, and a couple of interested investors.”

  “I see. Look, I’d invite you in to discuss it, but the place is a mess. Can we meet somewhere else to talk about this? I have my doubts, but am willing to consider it.”

  “Okay. I know the place has been trashed. I’m sorry about that. I hate to admit it, but when I was a freshman I came to one of the parties out here. It was a big mistake on my part and I never came back.

  “How about the Steak & Shake in town? Tomorrow? You can pick the time.”

  “Noon is… No it will probably be crowded then. Two o’clock?”

  Brittany nodded. “Please do keep an open mind about this.”

  “I will,” Glenn replied.

  “I may bring a couple more people to help with the pitch.”

  Glenn laughed. “The more the merrier.”

  When he turned in for bed that night, he found himself looking forward to the meeting. He wondered if it was because of Brittany or the prospect of doing something with the place.

  He was eating a steak sandwich, with fries, when Brittany arrived. She had indeed brought other people with her. A woman somewhat older than Brittany, by her looks, and a man about Brittany’s age.

  The three sat down at his booth. When the waitress came over, all of them asked for water or tea, with nothing to eat. Brittany made the introductions. The woman was Tabitha Sheriton, and the man Thomas Hooper.

  “Okay,” Glenn said, “Let the pitch begin.” He was smiling when he said it.

  Brittany laughed lightly, though the other two didn’t even crack a smile.

  “Mr. Murphy…” Brittany started, but Glenn interrupted her.

  “Make it Glenn.”

  “Okay. Glenn it is. As I said yesterday evening, the group I’m involved with, all with good college educations in modern agricultural practices, plus a couple very experienced in small scale farming, want to start up an organic farm. Primarily because it is better for the environment, as a showcase to encourage more ventures like ours, and to provide more organic product to those that prefer it. Both plant and… I guess animal.”

  “Sounds simple enough. My uncle has leased the land the last few seasons. They will be up for renewal this fall. You haven’t said how much land you need, and if you wanted to use existing structures. I don’t see why you can’t pick up one or more of the leases for your project.”

  “We need at least three hundred acres, with buildings. But… Well… You see,” said Thomas, “We don’t anticipate turning a profit for several years.”

  “I see. That does change things, doesn’t it?” Glenn said.

  “It is a very worthy cause,” said Tabitha, rather insistently. “And we could use the entire three sections. You would need to bring the buildings up to spec.”

  “How long have you been trying to get this project going?”

  “Three years,” Brittany said.

  “You mentioned investors. They wouldn’t be able to pay the lease fees and building improvements?”

  Tabitha immediately shook her head. “No. They will provide some equipment and such, seed, and other things for using the site for a test bed for their products in development. Some pro-green advertising, which some of them need desperately. Profits are secondary to them right now. Exposure in the field of greening the planet, and testing are their priorities. Profit is for future consideration.”

  Brittany looked a little embarrassed at her friend’s comments. “We do have several grants lined up, but they will only pay for certain things. The lease payment isn’t one of them. We might be able to fix up the buildings.”

  “What will happen to any permanent improvements to the property if the operation folds?”

  Tabitha looked sour. “Not much we could do. But it’s not likely we’d fail. We’re all very good. And committed. We’re hoping to get some of the corporate mentality turned around from greed to doing the right things”

  “I see,” Glenn said. He was going to need to think about this. He was all for green, but a person still had to make a living. It was sounding not only like they wanted to use all the land, but wanted him to improve it. At his expense. And there was Tabitha’s attitude. It was grating.

  “I need to think about this,” he told the three. “Probably need to get more details.”

  Tabitha looked angry, Thomas rather neutral, and Brittany disappointed.

  “Okay.” She wrote her telephone number on a napkin and handed it to Glenn. “Call me when you’ve had a chance to think it over.”

  Tabitha and Thomas were already heading for the door of the Steak & Shake. Brittany slid out of the booth from beside Glenn. “Please, really do consider it. I know Tabitha can be a bit… harsh… but she really believes in this project. Her family has some land. They wouldn’t even consider it.”

  “I will consider it,” Glenn replied. Brittany turned around and left, her slumped shoulders showing her dejection. He shrugged his shoulders and finished his sandwich and fries.

  While he was driving back to the farm he was listening to the news on Sirius radio. It was pretty much all bad, the weather news especially. It was pouring down rain when he got to the farm house. Glenn had a hard time finding a place that didn’t have a drip from the leaking roof coming down.

  He put on a rain coat and just wandered around the various buildings on the property, checking for roof leaks. He found plenty of them. Dejected, Glenn went back to the house as it was getting dark. He found a new place to roll out his sleeping pad and bag and crawled in, wondering what the next day would bring. He needed to make a decision quickly. He either needed to go back to work in a normal job, try to fix up the farm and get some help running it, continue to lease it out, or be super generous and let the students use it.

  “I’m not that generous,” Glenn muttered as he fell asleep.

  After a cold breakfast the next morning, Glenn called the number Brittany had written down on the napkin the day before. It was only cour
tesy to let her down in person, so Glenn made arrangements to meet her at the Steak & Shake again that afternoon.

  With nothing better to do, Glenn went in to Cape Girardeau early and went down to the river view. The Mississippi was running high, due to two months of nearly steady rains. He watched the river flow, and the tugboats and barges going past. He’d never gone down to the river much when he was in St. Louis.

  The rain started again and Glenn went back to the Talisman. He drove around town aimlessly, just checking it out. It looked like a nice enough town, not like some river towns. It was still pouring when he got to the Steak & Shake, plus he was very early for the meeting, so he sat in the Talisman and listened to a Sirius news channel.

  “Just more of the same,” he muttered and found an oldies rock and roll station. “This disaster and that disaster, this flood and that drought, this war and that war, this group hates that group, and everybody hates the US, contaminated food, changing climate, interest rates up and housing down. What’s the world coming to?” Glenn asked himself.