Chapter 12: Compassion

     

MORE OF SOMETHING MORE,

a story about a salesman trying to establish himself,

 a CEO scheming to buy out his father's influence

 and the woman important to each 

12 

     Bill drove the limo up the curving drive to the mansion with the rose-tinted facade. Two columns framed heavy double doors of the front entrance that did not appear to get much use. He was already pissed that Slade had interrupted his week off to demand a pick-up, now the mansion reminded him of those above-ground shrines in New Orleans cemeteries. His brother recently passed and the family was caught short of money for the burial. That pissed him off too.

     Aching bones he had lain into a tub never rose on their own. Police and EMT arrived and then the coroner to haul dead weight to the mortuary. The ringing in his ears was the register scoring another profit and Bill, who lived on a cash basis without much to pawn, fell back on what he knew. He called in a favor and took possession of a brick. He cut it, dealt it and was in and out before anyone could respond, which was a good thing: the streets were vicious now.

     He switched off the engine and stepped outside where the King County heat swamped him. The sun reflected off his shaved head and his dark suit clung like a winding cloth. At the door, he leaned on the bell but the oversized tomb did not respond. About to blast the bell again, he heard soles slapping hard surfaces. The door swung open to reveal a small gray-haired woman in floor-length white robe: Slade’s mother, Rhea. “Can I help you?” He explained and she invited him in. Two adolescent boys peeked around a corner to scrutinize him before disappearing. “Have a seat in the library. I’ll tell him you’re here.”

     Shelves of books filled the walls around leather armchairs beneath a high ceiling, and on a small round table he spotted a small statue about six inches tall, jade green and female, apparently though not certainly.  Vertical creases in the gown conveyed motion. Two hands held an upturned vessel.

     “That’s Kuan Jin,” said Rhea, handing him a glass of lemonade. “The Bodhisattva of Compassion. Bodhisattvas vow not to enter nirvana until all the other beings of the world do.” She gave him a what-do-you-think-of-that look.
     “I don’t know nothing about bootyfatwas or nervyana.” He sipped the cool beverage. An indulgent smile crossed her face. “Being compassionate is the point. I’ll see what’s keeping Stephen.”
     Alone again, Bill stared at the statue and thought of his other job as bouncer: “Crowds behind the rope line don’t wait to be last. ‘Me first. Damn the rest.’” His stubby finger tapped its head. “Toys for rich people.”

     Heavy footsteps approached as he slipped it into his pocket. He turned to see Stephen Slade dressed in tan slacks and an striped shirt. With blue blazer draped over one arm, he carried a briefcase and Blackberry in the other. “Let’s get going.”

     Down the drive and through the gate that closed remotely behind them, Slade focused his attention on his mobile device until a pothole rocked the limo. He shot a look at Bill who was unapologetic and thinking, “Go to the sticks and this is what you get.” Thirty minutes later they reached the highway leading to the interstate. Bill held up the statue. “Look familiar?”

     Annoyance then mocking scorn flashed on Slade’s face. “Don’t tell me you want to stick it to the dash.”

     “You don’t know everything you own. This was in the library.”

     “What’s it doing here?”

      “Mrs. Slade was telling me about compassion.”

      “Keep it.”
     “What’s it worth?”

      Slade was dismissive. “Ten.”

     Bill slid the base across the dash until the head bumped the windshield. “It don't fit. I don’t want it.” Slade’s eyes narrowed.

     The CEO entered the lobby holding the figurine like a soda bottle. “Worth enough,” Bill thought, “to bury someone but they wouldn’t suffer if it broke.”  Thinking how Mrs. Slade would alert her son to the theft, a laugh rumbled inside him. “Been blamed for worse.”      

    

The next chapter will be posted by February 8. 
 The characters and events in this story are fictitious and do not represent any living person or real event.