Night Magic (11 page)

"You have credibility with our opponents. I
want them to trust that we will make safety a priority."

"I see."

"Of course, I don't expect an answer today. I
understand that you will want to discuss this with your
partner."

"Yes, certainly. It would definitely be a big
step for us. In a lot of ways." Paul instantly thought of
Savannah.

"It certainly would, not to mention the
possibility of work for other companies in this area. With all the
pressure from the public and government, many of our business
associates would almost certainly be interested in having you do
some work for them."

"What is going on here? You are offering him
a contract without consulting me or Kyle?" Quentin came into the
room and stood before his father with his back to Paul.

"I mentioned it to Kyle last week. He agrees
that it would--"

"I see. When did you plan to mention it to
me? Apparently it slipped your mind that I happen to be vice
president of operations."

"You have been tied up with other things; we
were going to discuss it with you Thursday." Growing very still,
Claude spoke with an even voice, his face blank of expression.

"No, we weren't going to discuss it. You were
going to tell me what you decided to do behind my back!" Quentin
shouted.

"This is a business move that's to our
advantage for many reasons. This isn't the first time that a
decision has been made without you being in on it from the start.
Kyle andI--"

"Yes, that's right. You and Kyle, but mostly
you. As vice president of operations this should be my decision.
And I think we should go with a larger company with more experience
dealing with large businesses like ours."

"Quentin, using a small contractor with no
ties to the big names with credibility with environmentalist is
what we need. If you stopped throwing this childish temper tantrum
for a few minutes you might see that." Claude stood up and faced
his grandson.

"Listen, this is a big step that I would have
had to talk over with my partner anyway. Since it's obvious you
need to kick it around some, I'll be on my way." Paul started for
the door.

"I apologize for my grandson's behavior. He
seems to think good manners are unnecessary in business
discussions."

"I wouldn't have even been part of this
discussion if I hadn't happened to get in from Dallas early.
Honorè, you may have my grandfather dazzled, but not me. This
blatant attempt to cash in on our success won't work." Quentin's
voice barked angrily as he glared first at Claude then turned his
ire to Paul. The muscles in his jaws were tight knots showing his
barely contained fury.

"We were doing just fine before we got this
bid, and we'll survive when this job is over. I started my company
without help from my granddaddy to make me vice president. Who the
hell are you to accuse me of trying to hitch a ride on somebody
else's coat tails?" Paul gave a harsh contemptuous laugh.

"Let's see how well you do after I spread the
word. You won't be able to work for free." Quentin came towards
them, but Claude shoved him back into the library with surprising
force for his age.

"Get real, you have no contacts. You've
already been trying to bad mouth us, it just happens that we have a
solid reputation. Yeah, I know about your little campaign. It
hasn't worked. And if I ever hear you've been spreading negative
comments about my work you'll have a lawsuit on your hands." Paul
came back to the door to the library.

"Is this how you prove to me that you can
make major decisions? What next? Are you going to hold your breath
until I do what you want?" Claude whirled around to face his
grandson. Though his voice never rose, his tone was withering.

"Grandfather, I--" Quentin stammered, his
anger melting under Claude's glare.

"That is quite enough for now. Go put up your
things. We'll talk about this later." Claude dismissed him as
though he were a naughty little boy.

Quentin flushed deeply. As he left, he shot
Paul a fiery look of hatred. Without another word he raced up the
large staircase.

"I apologize again for that ugly scene.
Quentin is a bit high strung. My wife tended to spoil him I'm
afraid after my son and daughter-in-law died in a car accident when
he was only six. He'll come around though. His feelings are hurt
that I didn't ask him first, that's all."

"Sounds like there's more to it than that."
Paul shook his head.

"Believe me, that's all it is. Now, talk to
your partner and get back to us. No rush really. We can work out
the details later." Claude walked him to the front door.

"We'll consider your offer carefully. But we
have as much work as we can handle right now. Besides, your vice
president of operations objects. That could be a big problem to any
kind of working relationship." Paul walked to his car.

"I'll handle Quentin. Let me know soon."
Claude shook hands with Paul and clapped his shoulder.

Paul nodded and was about to get into his car
when a movement from a second story window caught his eye. Quentin
stood staring down at him, a stony look on his face. Claude stood
on the large veranda smiling and waving goodbye to him. As he drove
away, Paul could sense both sets of eyes following his exit.

*****

"So, what did he want?" Savannah fidgeted
with the objects on Paul's desk. She tried to make it sound like a
casual question. They had been walking a tightrope, avoiding his
connection to the Trosclair and Batton Chemical. This was the
subject that they both feared to discuss at any great length. But
she couldn't help it. When news of Paul's visit spread, which was
inevitable in tiny Beau Chene, all her suspicions came rushing
back.

"He wants to throw more business my way. He
was pleased with my report." Paul answered without looking at her.
After arranging the silverware on the small dining table, he went
back and served their plates straight from the wok. He put the
plate of steaming vegetable down. "Dinner is served, Madam." He
made a little bow.

"How much business?" Savannah still did not
look at him, but showed an intense concentration in arranging the
napkin in her lap.

"You know, do some follow-up reviews on the
new plant. Take a look at some of their other plants. Here you go,
add just a dash of soy sauce to make my wonder dish perfect."

"Thanks. Sounds like more than a little
business to me. Sounds like a major deal that can get you into some
serious cash flow." Savannah pushed the vegetables around on her
plate.

"Like I said, he likes my work." Paul's tone
took on an edge.

"I guess so. You supported his claim that the
site is just fine for his big toxic producing business that is
going to make him even richer."

"My report is based on facts. The fact is the
site he chose is not unsuitable. The heat process to be used is
within current regulations. And there is no evidence that the
product that comes will not be handled safely or safe to use."

"No, they just want to put it in our
community not theirs. Look around, Paul. The dumps, the chemical
plants, the refineries surround us. Why don't they crowd the rich
white folks? Why didn't you look at other sites? Trosclair's
backyard for example." Savannah stabbed angrily at large piece of
broccoli.

"I was asked to evaluate that site, that's
all. That's what I did. It wasn't my job to make judgments or
locate an alternative."

"But you could have. You still can." Savannah
leaned forward.

"Drop it, will you? I don't want to be caught
in the middle of this battle. I did what I was paid to do. Fighting
the permit is up to your father and his group."

"Oh, right. You don't want to jeopardize your
fat deal. All that money would take wings and fly if you did the
right thing."

"Why am I always defending myself to you when
it comes to this?" Paul threw down his fork.

"Because you are helping these creeps poison
this town, that's why!"

"If you have bothered to read my entire
report, you would know they made all of the changes in their
emission control systems I suggested even before my report was
issued. The last recommendation made was to look at a location
further from here so as not to saturate this area."

"Thrown in at the last minute just to appease
the opposition. How does it go? Oh yeah, `It may be advisable to
look further down the river since two other major plants are fairly
close to this site'."

"One reason I started my business was to find
a way to help plants operate safely so our people can have jobs
without sacrificing their health. I resent like hell that you
accuse me of not caring," Paul said, his voice taut with
outrage.

"Trosclair got this plant the same way he's
gotten everything else in life, political pull. Doesn't it bother
you he didn't follow the rules? Rules that are in place to protect
the public? Those blinders you're wearing need to come off."
Savannah shot back.

"That may be, but at this point it doesn't
matter anymore. There will always be men using influence to get
what they want. I happen to think being part of the process can
make a difference. We can make them that much more
accountable."

"So far nothing you've said makes me think
anything but Trosclair has you for show. He's so good that you're
even convinced. Meeting with him about making changes. Ha! As if he
interested in what you think." Savannah gave a short laugh empty of
mirth.

"So it finally comes out. Formed an opinion
based on what I've told you so far, huh? Maybe Sam was right;
you've just been looking for some ammunition to use against Batton
Chemical." Paul left the table.

"What? Are you saying--" Savannah bolted from
her chair to follow him.

"Yeah, you got real cozy with me right after
you found out about my work on the Batton project. All the
questions about my work, about the report." Paul paced in front of
the couch.

"Who do you think you are anyway? Get
serious. You’re an unknown black engineer with a tiny business
going nowhere until by some miracle you get this huge contract from
a corporation that does international business."

"We got this job by being the best and lowest
bidder!" Paul sputtered.

"Right. It was a set up from the beginning.
You went through the motions with that report so you could earn
your three pieces of silver. It's so transparent you might as well
have printed the thing on glass. Where's my coat?" Savannah whirled
around and stomped down the hall to the bedroom. "I'm getting the
hell out of here."

"There's the door, use it." Paul shouted.

"Don't worry, baby, I will. But get this, it
won't work so get your money and run. We'll shut Big River, count
on it." Savannah slammed the door so hard as she left, that the
whole trailer shook.

Paul's fist clenched and unclenched in
frustrated anger. How dare she call him a sell out? Couldn't she
see how critical it was being on the inside of an industry poised
to do as much good as harm for the community?

*****

The week of Thanksgiving was beautiful. The
weather sunny yet with a crispness in the air. Beautiful red and
yellow leaves hung from the trees and covered front yards. Savannah
hardly noticed. Despite all of Tante Marie's attempts to get her
into the holiday spirit, Savannah moved around as if in a haze. The
week since her confrontation with Paul had been bleak. Even the
slightest task seemed to drain her. Though she hated herself for
it, she held her breath at the ring of the phone or the tinkling of
the shop bell over the door. But he never called, he never came.
This was what she had dreaded, why she had never given herself
completely to any man. This agony of loving. In silent misery, she
followed the same routine every day.

"Cher, did you order those little crawfish
lapel pins? I'm gone put some in these gift baskets Mr. Rodrigue
ordered for his clients." Tante Marie was helping out due to the
rush.

"Yeah, and that paint I use for the animals."
Antoine yelled from the back.

"By the way, we almost out of Spanish moss.
Did you send T-Leon to get some more?" Tante Marie's hands move
quickly to complete another basket.

"Yes, I think I ordered--, oh no! I forgot to
call. I'll call now." Savannah pulled the phone towards her.

"Use the office line, girl. We gettin' orders
on that one. Now we gone hafta pay express shippin' charges to get
that stuff here." Antoine muttered this last.

"I'm sorry, okay. Can't I make one mistake
without getting jumped on? It's not like there aren’t a million
things to do around here." Savannah snatched up the papers with the
order information and stomped out.

"What's wrong with that girl? She been either
mopin' around with her face hanging down or snappin' folks heads
off." Antoine scratched his head.

"You ain't noticed Paul ain't been callin' or
been 'round here lately? They had a big fight an' now they ain't
speakin'." Tante Marie shook her head at her brother-in-law's lack
of knowledge.

"Lord, I can't keep up with them kissin' one
minute, fussin' the next. They'll be lovey-dovey next thing you
know." Antoine chuckled.

"I don't know. This was 'bout him goin' over
to Trosclair's house. Got offered a job. Savannah says he is
lettin' himself get bought off to help them open more plants and
get permits. You know that was a touchy thing with them anyhow.
Been more than two weeks now, they still ain't talkin'."

"Went to Trosclair's house, eh? Does sound
bad. But still, I can't hardly see him doing somethin' wrong like
that. He just don't seem to be that kind." Antoine said.

"Stop talking behind my back. Yeah, he's a
real stand up guy." Savannah marched back into the shop.