The center of town was Crowley Circle. The buildings around it were set more like a
rectangle. But the road around the rectangle was definitely a circle, a
roundabout leading to different parking areas.
It was designed in the early twentieth century by Albert Crowley, after
too many trips to Europe.
Much of Crowley's small professional community was
set around this circle. Andy Caldwell's
State Farm Bureau was here. Next to it
was Cooper and Strickland, Attorneys at Law.
Next to that was Graves & Robinson, CPA PC. Next to that was the
chiropractor, Doc Walter Stratton. On
the corner was the Honey Dew, the local diner.
Across the street were City Hall, and the Court House, sitting in the
oldest building in Crowley,
predating even the circle. At four
stories it was the tallest building in Crowley,
covered in red brick that had been put in place over 125 years ago, oversized
windows that had ghostly apparitions according to Cokie Goodkind and his band
of paranormal investigators. Next to City Hall were the City Police and the County Sheriff's
office, who share facilities. Some
argued for a combined department, but the political turf wars had prevented
that so far.
Rondy Strickland parked his metallic
blue Ford F-150 and clambered out. Why
an in town dweller with a white collar profession needed such a large
gas-guzzling pick-em-up truck was unclear, but it was not an uncommon phenomenon
in Crowley.
Tall, muscular and athletic, Rondy had a face and sincere smile that made women
swoon. Probably too many women. Rondy was divorced, and played a wide field.
Rondy saw Gariton Hollander get out
of his Prius and head towards the CPA firm he worked for. Gariton was small, no more the five foot
eight, and had kinda weird hobbies, like theatre and reading. "Hey, Gariton! 'Nother day, 'nother dollar, eh?" Gariton nodded and moved on to his office at Graves and Robinson.
Rondy shrugged and continued to the door of Cooper and Strickland.
"Morning, sunshine!" chippered Rondy, as he entered and saw Ramona
Adams sitting at her desk up front.
Ramona was the firm's legal assistant, secretary and receptionist. She was studying at OTC (Okefenokee Technical
College) in Waycross to be a paralegal. She didn't realize that Thomas Cooper, the
lead lawyer and true firm head, had no intention of paying her more even if she
passed. Thomas Cooper had a fixed idea
how much women in the office should make and he was never going to go past that
line. The fact that she was African
American probably didn't help, but Mr. Cooper's true problem was that she was a
woman.
Crowley's African American population was fairly
small, no more than about 15% of city residents were black, and there were only
a handful out in the county. Most of
those who achieved academically did not stay, as the numbers of jobs for
educated African Americans were few and far between, as most small businesses
simply didn't hire them. And if they
did, it was only for the more menial jobs.
The job Ramona had at Cooper & Strickland was a minor
exception. The work load was a challenge,
and she did get to do some interesting stuff on occasion, but the pay and power
was only going to rise so far. Thomas
Cooper did respect her and treated her well for the most part, but his
prejudice was really more towards his conception of what women's role in the work
place was.
Ramona's husband, Jackie Adams, had
one of the best jobs held by an African American in Crowley.
He was vice-principal at the Reagan
Middle School, in charge
of discipline and facility maintenance.
There was hardly a person in Dixon
County who thought that
that Jackie was not excellent at his job.
"Morning, Mr.
Strickland," answered Ramona. Rondy
had wanted her to use his first name in referring to him, but Ramona was not
going to go down that path. Rondy was king of the flirts and if you gave him an
inch, he would take a mile. She tried to
keep her opinion of herself grounded, but she knew she was pretty good looking,
and Rondy always looked at her with wolfish eyes. Besides, Mr. Cooper had never indicated any
desire for her to call him anything but Mr. Cooper, and she felt no reason to address
the lawyers differently.
Thomas Cooper came out of his
office. He was a distinguished looking
gentleman, thick white hair, and a medium build, dressed in a sharp, cool blue suit;
he had expressive, kind eyes that had melted a hundred juries. Mr. Cooper mostly took cases that defended Crowley's elite, but once
in awhile he would take on cases helping the disadvantaged, and it was then he
would truly shine.
"Rondy, I got Sheriff Steel
coming in 'bout an hour from now. He'll
have Edna and Dabs Denison with him, and I'll want you to sit in on it,"
said Thomas.
"What's going on, Thomas? Isn't Dabs that kind of loopy vet? Did he do something crazy?" asked Rondy,
who had no real interest in anything except the town elite, or the town's
beautiful women.
"I don't know, Rondy. I have not talked to them yet. Alan Steel wants me to talk to them, I'm
going to do it. I don't need to know
much more. You sit in on it with me, and
we'll see where we can help." Thomas turned to Ramona. "If they bring their boys in with them,
I want you to help them get entertained in the second conference room. Maybe we still got those crayola books."
Ramona nodded, but she really
wanted to be in on that meeting. It was
very intriguing that Sheriff Steel would be bringing somebody in. It could be something beyond the usual
divorce or property dispute. Ramona
wanted not just to be paralegal, but a full fledged lawyer. It would be a long and hard journey, but she
had the support of the person she cared most about, her husband Jackie.
The phone rang and it was Betty
Cooper, calling to speak with Rondy.
They had been "dating" for a couple of months now, and would
frequently call or come up to see Rondy.
Betty was Thomas Cooper's daughter, a sweet girl, short and blonde and sometimes
giggly. Thomas wasn't very excited about
his daughter dating Rondy, but he wasn't the type to tell his twenty-three year
old daughter what to do or not to do. In
his experience, it was always better when they could figure out things for
themselves.
"Excuse me, I'll take this in
my office," said Rondy. I'll bet
you will, thought Ramona.
"Buzz me the minute they come
in, Ramona," said Thomas, retreating back to his office.
A few minutes later the door opened
again. It was Christie Delco Hollander,
the drop dead gorgeous daughter of Daddy Delco, furniture store tycoon. She was also inexplicably married to Gariton
Hollander. Ramona thinks they met at
school up north somewhere. Christie had
a perfect face, long auburn hair, Nordic blue eyes, and a dancer's body.
"Hello, Ramona!" said a
high spirited Christie. "I come by
to town to drop off Gariton some of my sweet cake and I thought, well, Rondy's
right here. Why not chat him up for a
minute! I want to get his help in the
big Christmas Oyster Roast, raise some money for the Crowley Rec
Center."
Ramona looked down at the phone,
and saw that Rondy was still on the line with Betty. She looked up at Christie and saw her
distractedly biting her lip, looking unexpectedly anxious. It only took a millisecond for Ramona to make
up her mind. "Sure, Mrs. Hollander,
go right on back. Rondy is free as a bird, and I'm sure he'd just love
to..." Ramona paused here ever so slightly. "...chat things up with you.'
"Thank you kindly, Miss
Ramona!' Christie went to open Rondy's door. "You just ever have the
nicest day!"
The door closed. Seconds later, the phone call with Betty was
dumped.
Ramona smirked. It looked like another dog day for
Rondy. Woof.
