Mr. Ignatius
Hartherzig, known to people simply as “I,” is traveling down the road from one of his numerous gasoline refineries in his private limousine. He’s still thinking about the meeting he has just left with some other oil and gasoline execs and wealthy investors. He can’t wait until the next day, when their plan of action is put into effect. That plan calls for the spreading of rumors about an attack by terrorists on Saudi Arabian oil fields, coupled with the actual shutdown of several refineries in the U.S. for “maintenance.” The participants of the meeting figure the price of gas and oil will soar within hours of the announcements of these newsworthy items, and the little group will reap millions of extra dollars for their companies and their own pockets. The plan calls for allowing prices to fall back after a while, so as not to incur too much wrath from consumers, and which, in turn, might prompt investigations from Congress. Part two of the plan involves the upcoming hurricane season, and “I” and his cronies are hoping for a banner year, complete with plenty of spokespeople on cable business channels "announcing" the formation of each new storm and always indicating that these storms can disrupt oil and gasoline supplies. The group figures that just the announcements will drive oil and gas prices up the charts. He can't believe that one of the group actually had the nerve to ask, "What will happen to people who can't afford the price of gas?" Mr.
Hartherzig wears a broad smile as he recalls his blunt and impatient reply, "Quit worrying about these stupid, insignificant people; they're losers!"
"I" tells his driver to get a move on, as he has a special dinner appointment. The sleek black limo wends it's way down the road, with oil and gas storage tanks on either side, the car picking up speed as it goes. An earlier thunderstorm has left the roadway covered with mud, washed there from the roadside. Suddenly, the front wheels begin to slide as they hit a patch of muddy asphalt. The big car swerves right, then left, and finally veers off the road, crashes through a large iron gate and plunges toward a gasoline storage tank. "
I's" voice screams a shrill, "
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!" Miraculously, just as the car is about to hit the storage tank...
POOF!
Hartherzig can't believe it. The car is back on the roadway and with a new driver. "Who the hell are you?" asks "I."
"Well, I don't have to ask who you are," says the driver. "You're one of the richest men in these parts."
"
THE richest man!" Mr.
Hartherzig quickly interjects. "I own this town. That's why it's called
Ignatiusville; after me, Ignatius
Hartherzig. Now... I asked you a question."
Hartherzig's voice demanded an answer, without even stating such.
"Well Mr.
Hartherzig, my name is Nethermost," stated the driver.
"
Hmm, Nethermost? Don't recognize it. That's a hell of a name! You from around here?"
The driver chuckled. "A hell of a name... I kind of like the way you put that." The driver paused a bit before continuing. "I guess you could say I'm from around here."
"Guess you're from around here? What's your first name?" asked "I" in his always demanding way.
"My first name is Adolf, spelled with an 'f.' "
"Adolf? Now there's a name you sure don't hear much since....well... for a long time." After a momentary pause, "I" asked, "So what are you doing here, in my limo?"
"Well Mr.
Hartherzig, I would have thought that you already had figured out that I just stopped you from crashing into that gasoline storage tank right ahead."
"I" looked a bit perplexed, but quickly shot back, "Well, it did cross my mind. So, you must be my guardian angel, like in that Jimmy Stewart movie. And here I never believed in such things. Man, if we'd have hit that storage tank...well, I thought it was all over. This town would have died without me. I'm the one who's made this town what it is."
"Mr.
Hartherzig," Nethermost started, but was promptly interrupted.
"Just call me "I" like everyone does."
"Okay "I", we're going to take a little trip around town. How's that sound to you?"
"Oh just fine, just fine. I do need to be at dinner tonight, but... I guess they'll have to get by without me," answered "I" in his usual cocky manner.
"Well, this won't be like any trip around town that you've ever had, Mr.
Hartherzig, I mean 'I.' It will be a trip to show you what life here would be like if you had never been born." Nethermost stared at
Hartherzig as he finished his statement.
"Without me?" asked
Hartherzig.
"Ah...without
"I", if you get my drift," Nethermost said, first stressing the "I," and then chuckling as he uttered the last part.
"I" looked somewhat uneasy, but then said, "Without me? This bunch of silly people? They'd be nothing!"
Nethermost swung the big car around and off the two men went; out the big gate and along the road leading to the stream. "We'll begin our trip in daylight, " Nethermost told "I." The car pulled over near the stream. A middle aged man in a blue flannel shirt, khaki pants, and a broad rimmed hat was sitting quietly, fishing rod propped on a small V-shaped branch by his side.
"I" stared in disbelief before saying, "Why...why that's Manuel...Manuel
Obrero! He's dead! I know he's dead! What's going on here?"
"Well 'I,' there will be a lot of things that seem strange to you now. I told you, this will be a trip unlike any you've ever taken. And so you know this man,
huh?" asked Nethermost.
"I know
EVERYONE in this town," 'I' quickly replied. "This guy worked for me for like 15 to 20 years. I got rid of him. Dumb as hell,
AND he had medical problems."
"How do you mean 'dumb?' " Nethermost asked.
"I" didn't hesitate in his reply, "Oh, I just mean he didn't have much education. Got to have education today! Got to! That's the world today! Need people who know computer technology and who know all the buttons to push on equipment. If you just do physical labor... well, you aren't going to make much, or hell, we can get someone in a Third World country to do that kind of stuff for a pittance."
Nethermost asked, "Couldn't you have trained him for the kind of work you needed? After all, he worked for you for quite some time. He did a lot of heavy lifting for you that undoubtedly contributed to his medical problems."
"Nah! I was able to get someone who was already trained. Not really worth it to train someone else; bottom line you know. As for his 'heavy lifting' for me, that was his job! Once you've got medical problems, that's it, you're ready for the scrap heap."
"So, you said the guy was dead. What happened?"
"Well, when I got rid of him, he lost his medical insurance. Had some kind of back trouble and heart trouble and well, he kicked the bucket. Hey, he could have taken over the payments and kept the insurance, but that was his choice."
"If he just lost his job, how could he afford to take over the insurance payments? And he had kids, too, right?"
"That was
HIS problem, not mine; kids or no kids. What, do you think I was going to pay for his insurance?"
"I see. As you say, 'bottom line.' "
"That's right! So uneducated, look at him, fishing here. Shows how dumb he is. There aren't any fish in this stream. Haven't been since I took over around here and built my various industrial plants. Fish all died, but hey, you can't stop progress."
Nethermost looked along the stream. "Hey, there are other folks fishing here, too. Look down stream!"
Hartherzig glanced downstream. "Oh, I told you the people of this town couldn't survive without me. They're all a bunch of dimwits."
As if on cue,
Obrero began to reel in something. Within a minute, he had brought in a medium size bass. Further downstream, another fisherman pulled in a bass. "This just doesn't make sense!" screamed 'I.' "There can't be fish in here. And
where'd all these trees and bushes come from. My industries killed these blasted things years ago! Had the tree
huggers ALL upset." This remark prompted another chuckle from "I." "They thought that I should have paid to clean up the stream and area.
Puh! Not me, I'm in business to make money, not plant trees!"
"Well 'I,' let's move on," said Nethermost, "we've seen enough here."
"Fine by me," answered 'I.' " Where we going now?"
Nethermost pointed up ahead. The big
sleak limo passed a sign reading, "Welcome To Good Hope."
"Good Hope?" said 'I.' "Oh... that's right. I wasn't here, so the town can't be named after me. I get it."
TO BE CONTINUED