Tag Archives: class struggle

A Wedge Between Pt. 5 (Final Chapter)

14 Jun

A Wedge Between Pt. 1

A Wedge Between Pt. 2

A Wedge Between Pt. 3

A Wedge Between Pt. 4

Chalk out line

“What are you doing here?” Stodler asked.

“My private dick saw everything and I thought I could help” she answered, feeling victorious. “Is the old man really dead?”

“I don’t know, but I think so” he answered.

“And the dumb bitch? Looks like you haven’t taken care of her yet.”

The last sentence hit Stodler like a ton of bricks. He realized just then that Isabel was a problem that had to be dealt with.

“Isa, honey” Stodler kneeled down and took her hand. “We’re gonna get through this, right? You can be quiet about this?”

Isabel snapped out of her catatonic like state, turned her head to Stodler and said “Fuck you, you’re gonna rot in jail” She tried to pull her hand away to stand up but Stodler tightened his grip.

“No, my love, it can’t be like that. I’m sorry”

Isabel let out a shrill scream that was cut short. Blood sprayed the wall behind her. She slumped over. Stodler turned to see a smoking, silenced .40 caliber in the dectective’s hand.

“This is gonna cost you, miss” the detective said to Amanda.

“I’m good for it, besides, the bill is only going to get bigger. I’m going to need you to clean this up” Amanda replied.

“Consider it done” the detective said.

Stodler was relieved. He had seen his future come to an end only to have it resurrected by the hand of the detective. Stodler and Amanda ending up dating. Amanda eventually threw Stodler away when she became bored with him. Stodler was none the happier, he was with her more out of self-preservation anyhow. In the years after the incident, Stodler graduated top of his class and enjoyed a successful career in politics. In two decades he ran for a Senate seat. He won.

Politican

A Wedge Between Pt. 4

11 Jun

A Wedge Between Pt. I

A Wedge Between Pt. 2

A Wedge Between Pt. 3

smashed table

“What have you done?” Isabel cried.

“I dunno…I went blank. I wasn’t in control” Stodler answered.

“We have to call an ambulance, the pol…” she said before Stodler interjected.

“NO! We have to figure this out first” he said, visibly shaking all over.

“What’s there to figure out? My father needs help!” she barely got the words out through heavy sobs. She knew her father was beyond help and she saw Stodler through different eyes. He was a monster to her now.

“This can really fuck everything up I’ve worked for, so far” he said.

“What are you even saying?” she said as she reached for her cell phone. Stodler promptly slapped it out of her hand.

“Let’s calm the fuck down here. We can take care of this. Together. I hope.” Stodler started to become eerily calm.

Isabel could only cower. She was truly afraid of Stodler. She was now looking for a way out of this alive.

“He was going to ruin us anyway. This is for the better. We can hide the body. Nobody will know” Stodler said with a wild look in his eyes.

“Monster! Who are you?” Isabel shrieked, snapping out of her trance.

Just then an Audi pulled up and immediately turned off the headlights. A pretty young woman and a balding man with a pot belly got out. The man was so sloppy about concealing his weapon, the hand grip of his .40 caliber Glock was showing above his waistline.

Stodler went to the window to see who arrived. “What the hell?” was all that he could mutter. The new arrivals didn’t even get to knock on the door, Stodler opened it before knuckles made contact with the wood.

“I bet your glad to see me” the woman said. She surveyed the room. She saw a broken table, a dead man and an almost catatonic woman on the floor.

“I haven’t seen you since high school” Stodler said, searching his mental data base for a name. He finally came up with one, “Amanda?!”

 

A Wedge Between Pt. 5

 

 

A Wedge Between Pt. 3

7 Jun

A Wedge Between Pt. I

A Wedge Between Pt. 2

 

Night Road

Mr. Decker’s driver raced up I-95 towards Providence. He kept repeating to himself “That girl will be the death of me”. He was too intoxicated with rage to take in the familiar sights along the way. He compulsively opened his phone to look at the disgusting pictures of his little girl in compromising positions with a plebian. The pictures were sent by an anonymous “concerned individual”.

Landmarks that lined the road, unmovable like boulders on the bank of a river, passed in a blur until the car finally slowed to a stop.

“Shall I wait here, sir?” the driver asked.

“No, go to town. Have a coffee. I shall ring you when I am ready” Mr. Decker replied.

“As you wish sir”

Mr. Decker knocked on the door and a handsome you man, wearing nothing but basketball shorts answered.

“Hello, can I help you?” the athletically built, polite youth asked.

“Are you Frank Stodler?” Mr. Decker asked.

“Yes I…” Stodler answered but was cut off.

“Daddy?” a voice cried from within the small house.

“Isabel?” he answered.

“Uh, excuse me, what’s going on here?” Stodler asked when in fact he had a pretty good idea of what was going on.

The well-dressed elderly man pushed Stodler in the chest. He was deceivingly strong. Stodler fell back, stumbled and hit his head on an Ikea end table that broke to pieces immediately. Stodler’s world went black with hints of red in a fit of rage. The only things he saw were the objects in his immediate focus. His anger had cut off his peripheral vision.

Stodler was abused his whole childhood. His state appointed counselor posited that it was the source of the fire that drove him to succeed. Though he worked hard to try to eliminate these demons, they were only weakened and could still be triggered and triggered he was.

Before standing up he grabbed a piece of the broken end table and went straight at Mr. Decker. He unleashed years of pent up fury on the gentleman. The piece of wood fell upon her fallen father with such speed and ferocity that Isabel stood frozen in time and space.

To be continued…

 

A Wedge Between Pt. 4

A Wedge Between Pt. 1

30 May

Brown U

Frank Stodler, mostly known as just Stodler, met Isabel during his first week of attending Brown University. Isabel’s family tree has roots that burrow into Brown’s soil before the Civil War. Stodler, on the other hand, was the first in his family to go to college. Isabel came from a long line of money and privilege. Stodler came from a long line of poverty and struggle.

Stodler was able to go to Brown due to a generous benefactor from his home town. Every year, the benefactor choose one extraordinary and needy student and paid for four years of college. This year his generosity would be tested. Brown is much more expensive than the usual state schools or community colleges he was used to paying for.

Stodler fell in love with Isabel the moment he saw her. He left their first meeting floating in thin air, getting a boost higher every time he mouthed her name  “I S A B E L ”. The name echoed in his head. The best or worst part, depending on the point of view, was that this was his first time in love.

As months passed by, their relationship progressed. Isabel fell just as hard for Stodler as he had for her. They were practically inseparable. They only parted when Isabel spent time with her friends and family. She told Stodler a healthy relationship needed some separation to flourish. The separation that Isabel required grew so radical that Stodler became suspicious.

Stodler’s suspicions were somewhat confirmed. Though he thought Isabel was ashamed of his social status, she really wasn’t, but word of their romantic bond could never be heard by her father. Her father wouldn’t accept her dating anything less than a future senator; and even that was aiming low in his estimation.

One afternoon Isabel’s treachery was discovered. She explained herself to Stodler. He took it well. In fact, knowing that they would have to be a little sneaky excited Stodler. He took pride in knowing he was “sticking it to the man” while “giving it to his daughter”. Little did he know, he was playing with fire.

To be continued….

A Wedge Between Pt. 2

A Wedge Between Pt. 3

A Wedge Between Pt. 4

 

The Trash Collector

16 Dec

catador de lixo

 

Bernie struggled as he pushed his home made trash cart up a slight incline to get to a particularly enticing pile of rubble he saw while scouting the neighborhood the day before. He looked up and saw three vultures circling over an abandoned soccer field. He loved birds and felt a special kinship with vultures.

Bernie arrived at the recently demolished house. He wasted no time looking for the most valuable materials. He was lucky if there was any of the metal rebar left behind but the demolition crews usually kept that for themselves. If they were in a real hurry, though, they sometimes left behind even copper piping and wiring. This was a jackpot for Bernie. No chance this time. Bernie noticed that the pile had already been rummaged. Crack heads probably.

Though a lot of the best stuff had already been taken, Bernie still saw a lot of good stuff. As he mined the pile he found a little, locked metal box. He didn´t think anything of it and threw it into his cart.

Later that night after a hardy dinner of rice, beans and today, a little chicken, he told his wife Sandra of the day´s haul and they went outside to pick over it and see just what he had scored that day.

“What´s this?” his wife asked.

“Oh, that little box? I found it at that demo a few blocks up. I don´t think there is much weight there. Ain´t gonna be worth much” he said.

“Aren´t you curious about what´s inside?” she asked.

“No” he answered with a grunt as he threw some pieces over into another pile.

“You think you can get it open?” she asked.

“Yeah, probably” he answered.

“Then open it” she said.

“Not now. Ain´t gonna make us any money opening boxes. Let´s separate this stuff. Trucks coming tomorrow for a pick up. You know if we ain´t ready, he ain´t stopping” he said, now getting a little annoyed.

She set it aside. She went back to separating. When they were finally satisfied with the night´s separating they made their way to the house. Later that night, Bernie´s wife woke up. She had a strong feeling that she had to do something but couldn´t figure out what. She went to the kitchen for a glass of water. Then she remembered the box. She went out in her pajamas to retrieve it.

She realized that it would be more difficult to open than she thought, so she slipped it under the bed and forgot about it.

A few months past and financial difficulties starting to tear the small family apart. Even though they owned the tiny piece of land and the shack they lived in, they hadn´t been able to pay property taxes for a long time. The government was threatening to take their property away. To make matters worse, their land was on the projected path of a new highway so the government had extra interest in seizing the property.

Things got to the point where Bernie was ready to bolt. He had family in the North East and there was a government program that was giving free money away. This was very enticing. He would practically be given what he currently earned for his backbreaking toil and he would be close to old friends and relatives. Besides, his wife was really starting to get on him about their financial woes. He had nothing to lose. The government was going to take his house anyway. Might as well let them pay him to do nothing, he thought.

One night when Bernie was sure his wife was asleep he gathered a few meager belongings and went to the local bus terminal. He bought one, one way trip to Bahia, his home state.

Sandra woke up that morning and did not need to think too hard to figure out what had happened. Bernie was gone and so were his things. They really did not have much so it was all the more apparent. A single tear ran down her face when she said out loud, “Stop it! It´s over”

She now would have to work even harder without Bernie around. She bent down to get her shoes from under the bed. As she felt for her shoes her hand brushed upon the metal box that she had put there months ago. She decided that she would take it to the locksmith on her rounds looking for recyclables.

Sandra arrived at the locksmith “Pedro, can you open this for me?”

“How much you gonna pay me?” Pedro said with a playful smile. He always had a thing for Sandra.

“I´ll split with you whatever is in the box” she answered.

“How about you just have dinner with me, my treat” he played.

“Well, Pedro, as of today, I am a single woman. I just might take you up on that” she played back.

“Deal” Pedro said with a smile.

Pedro pulled out some rusty tools and went to work on the tiny lock. In no time it was open. “Ain´t nothing in here, Sandra. Just some papers”

Sandra looked in the box. He was right. Just some papers. But something gave Sandra a feeling that they weren´t just any papers. They looked official.

“Thanks Pedro” she said as she carefully put the box on the trash cart.

“How about our dinner?” Pedro said this time more shy than playful.

“I´ll come back and we can work out the details” she said.

Sandra thought of all the people she could show the papers to. Who did she know who would know what they were? Then she thought of Marcos. He was an attorney who always separated his recyclables from his trash just for her and Bernie. He was a nice person. He would help. His office was in his house so she knew he´d be there.

She rang the buzzer. “How can I help you?” a voice asked through the intercom.

“Is Marcos in?” Sandra asked.

“One moment” the voice said.

The door popped open. It was Marcos´s secretary. “Come in please. Marcos said he has a few moments to spare”

“Thank you” Sandra said.

With the box tucked under her arm, Sandra entered Marcos´s office.

“Hello, Sandra! How are you? Would you care for a coffee?” he asked.

“No thank you. How are you?” she asked back.

“I am spectacular as always, my dear. How can I help you today?” Marcos asked.

Sandra told her short story about the box and asked if he could give an opinion as to what the contents were. She handed over the box.

Marcos´s eyes opened very wide and for a moment Sandra thought they would fall out of his head.

“What is it Marcos?” she asked.

“These are gold certificates, Sandra. And many of them” he told her. Sandra had a confused look on her face so Marcos added “this is a lot of money here!”

Sandra went blank. She could only muster the question, “How much?”

“This first one is for 10,000 DOLLARS! United States dollars. And there are a stack of them!”

A small smile flashed across Sandra´s face. She pinched off a few of the certificates and handed them to Marcos. “You have always been kind to me. Take these” she said.

“No, you don´t….” Marcos started.

“I insist and if you don´t take them I will rip them up and throw them in your waste bin” she said with a smile.

“Well, if you insist” Marcos said, Sandra´s smile was so contagious he could not help but do so himself.

Sandra carefully put the box back onto the trash cart and started to make her way back home. She could not help but to think how her life was going to change. She thought of the freedom this money would afford her. Her mind flashed to Bernie but she quelled that in an instant. Good riddance. He showed his true character when he walked out that door.

She made one stop on her way home.

“Pedro” she called.

From the back of the cramped shack she heard “Yes dear? Come to accept my proposal?” he said jokingly.

“Yes. I have. And I´m paying”

 

Dirty Work

15 Aug

maid

“It´s hard to pay the bills sometimes” Sheila said as she nervously puffed a cigarette and stared out of the window at nothing and everything at the same time. “You got to do what you got to do sometimes”

“Aren´t you ashamed of yourself?” Beth asked. She had just found out Sheila´s secret font of income.

“No!” Sheila said turning her head and fixing her gaze at Beth. “Not for one second”

“Calm down, Sheila. I am not saying that you should be. I am just asking as a friend”

“Well, stop asking. I don´t want to talk about it” Sheila said as she freed another cigarette from the pack and lit it with the burning filter of the last one. “What the fuck were you doing there in the first place?”

“I go there sometimes. That´s all” Beth said, now feeling the spot light of shame shining on her. “Listen, we all do things for money that we are not proud of sometimes. It´s ok.”

“No, we don´t! There are many people in this world that do not even have to do anything to get stuff. They were just born with stuff. They do not have to humiliate themselves ever and they even get to live better than those who do!” Sheila said now crying.

“Listen, Sheila, that´s life. Some people are born with everything, some are born with nothing. Some are born healthy, some are born dead! That´s just the way it goes. It is what it is” Beth stopped when she realized she sounded like a cliché reproducing robot.

“Well I was not born to greet people as they come into Wal-mart!” Sheila said, her eyes now furiously pouring tears.

 

Serfs Up!

7 Feb

serf

 

Merek was a serf that lived in what is today a suburb of Munster, Germany. He was tied to an estate owned by Lord Althalos where he had to work the land and hand over around 25 percent of what he produced. If you look at today´s tax rates, that´s not so bad, but it is beside the point. Merek was married to the beautiful Ryia. She was one of the most beautiful serfs in all the land. Her beauty transcended her poverty in a way that female beauty has a tendency of doing.

But like most men, 5 years after taking the nuptial nose dive, Merek grew tired of performing his husbandly duties with Ryia and his eyes grew for Duraina, the wife of his boss and essentially owner, Althalos. Merek knew that the feeling was mutual. Many hints were given. At the same time, there was a lot of social upheaval going on. They didn´t know it at the time, but the end of an epoch was upon them and the birth of another was awaking. Serfs were breaking their chains and going onto other fiefdoms in search of better conditions. In the way Merek was tired of making love to Ryia, he was tired of making such low wages.

He was being courted by the land owner Xalvador who was not only offering a more fertile land to work, but would ask for a lower percentage of the yield making the deal extremely attractive. Merek not only wanted to go to Xalvador´s land, but he wanted to do so alone. He knew what he would have to do. Althalos would never let him go and neither would Ryia without a really good reason. Merek thought he knew what would motivate them to let him move along.

Summer came and went and autumn gave way to a brutal winter. Spring offered much relief. As the land was thawing and Merek was preparing his tools to work the land a messenger came on horseback.

“Merek, you presence is being demanded in Lord Althalos’ main quarters” the messenger said gravely.

Merek prepared a snack for the day long journey, gave a kiss on the cheek to Ryia and was on his way.

He was met at the front door by Althalos who was red in the face from drink and rage.

“You bastard, lowly serf!” Althalos said. “I should have you burned at the stake!”

“Whatever is this all about, my lord?” Merek asked, faking ignorance.

“My eyes are blue and my hair, golden blond! The baby…well the baby has black peasant eyes and the dark locks of poverty!” Althalos was stumbling as he spoke. “You are to get off my land by sunset or you shall meet they maker”

“I am sure you are mistaken, my lord, but as you wish” Merek said, faking concern.

“As you wish” Merek thought to himself and had to turn his back quickly as to hide his grin. Both his feudal boss and faithful wife never wanted to see him again.