In Search Of Dreams

Episode 14

“Andersen,” Percy picks up his phone Tuesday
morning, stretching his left leg out in front of
him, rubbing his knee a moment before bending
forward and yanking his pant leg up to adjust
his prosthesis. Didn’t get it quite right this
morning, he thinks, replacing his pant leg over
the false lower leg and foot.

“Mr. Andersen? My name is Robert Carter.

Do you have a moment?”

“Um, sure…” he says, puzzling for a moment.

“Carter? Like Carter Law Offices?”

“Well, that Carter is my father, but yes.”

“Ah. If you’re calling why I think you’re calling, I
don’t want to talk on this line. Can I call you on
my lunch hour? I’ll go to a pay phone and call
you.”

“I am, and of course,” Robert says, smiling. He’s
going to cooperate. He gives Percy the number
and resolves to eat his own lunch in his office
so he doesn’t miss the call.

Rob hangs up the phone, sighs, and lifts it
again. “Vivian, when is Marcus in today?”

“He should be here in half an hour, Mr.
Carter,” she says.

“Send him right to me as soon as you see him,
please.”

“Yes, sir.”

In his office, Percy sits and stares another
moment. She called Carter. Not Jameson.

Interesting. Percy had been in this half of the
country long enough to be surprised that a
colored person would call a white lawyer. Lori
appeared to be a smart girl. I’m sure she had a
good reason to choose this man.

He stands and walks to his filing cabinet,
opening the top drawer. Far in the back is a file
folder. He pulls it out and thumbs through the
copies of the repair requests. Thank you, Captain
Lee, he thinks, remembering his Captain’s
motto. CYA: Cover Your Ass.

“Boss?” a voice interrupts his thoughts. Percy
looks up and sees Duncan’s face peeking into
his doorway.

“Duncan, what can I do for you?” he asks,
casually closing the file drawer and setting the
folder on his desk.

“New shipment just arrived. Need your
signature,” Duncan says.

“Right,” Percy looks at the folder on his desk,
picks it up again, and stashes it in his bottom
desk drawer.

Duncan looks on curiously, wondering what is so
secretive that he can’t leave it sitting in the
open but not so secretive that Percy allows him
to see where he’s hidden it.

Percy smirks slightly, and as he walks unevenly
down the stairs from his office above the
warehouse, he mutters to Duncan, “Copies of
the repair requests.”

“You got copies? How’d you get copies?”

“I made them before I submitted them.”

“Damn, boss, you smart,” Duncan says, looking
up at the young man, his mouth agape.

“Not smart. Careful.”

“Someone call you?”

“Yes. I’m going to the payphone on the corner
at lunch to talk to him. I’d ask you and Ezra to
come along, but that might look suspicious.”

“Right.”

“I do have his phone number. I’ll make sure a
copy finds its way into your hands.”

“Thanks, boss.”

“I think Tom’s daughter may be even smarter
than we thought.”

“She wa’n’t the apple of his eye for nothin’,”
Duncan says.

“Shh,” Percy says as they walk onto the main
floor of the warehouse, among the rest of the
workers.

A few hours later, Percy is out in the midday
heat, crammed into a phone booth that is
clearly built for someone who is not six-foot-five
and 235 pounds of solid muscle. He drops a
dime into the slot and dials the number.

“Carter Law Offices, this is Vivian, may I
help you?”

“Hello, Robert Carter, please,” Percy says,
leaning on the side of the glass booth.

“One moment.”

He waits his moment, and soon Rob’s voice
greets him. “Robert Carter.”

“Mr. Carter, this is Percy Andersen. We
spoke briefly this morning.”

“Please, call me Rob or Robert. Thank you for calling
me back.”

“Thank you for understanding my not wanting to
talk in my office this morning.”

“Not a problem at all. So then you know what
this is about?”

“Tom Thompson.”

“Right. Loretta tells me that you and two
others have some information that might help
make things safer for your workers?”

“Well, I have some information that might help
expose the fact that the current working
conditions in the warehouse are unsafe…
deadly, I’d say.”

“So would I,” Rob says. “Mr. Andersen, can I
ask you a personal question?”

“Percy. And yes, you can.”

“Are you related to Eugene Alined?”

Percy sighs, and when Rob hears it, he has
his answer. “Yes. He’s my uncle. No one here
knows, though, and I prefer it that way.”

“Because you don’t want them to know that
your uncle gave you the job because you are his
nephew?”

“Because my uncle is a slimeball and I’m
ashamed to be related to him. And what you
said, too.”

“Why did you take the job, then?”

“I needed a job. I’m… I’m a disabled Army vet,
Rob. Lost part of my leg in ‘Nam. Went home
to Sioux Falls and no one would hire me. My
mom talked to her older brother, even though
she hates him, and he agreed to hire me. I need
to work, so I took it.”

“So you have no problem with helping Loretta
with her case against your uncle?”

“None,” Percy says decisively, so much so that
Rob wonders what Alined did that makes
Percy hate him so much.

Not the time for that question. “So… this
information you have for me. Is it concrete?”

“If copies of repair requests for various pieces
of equipment around the warehouse that have
gone un-fulfilled is what you’d call concrete,
then, yes.”

Rob almost drops the phone. “You have
copies?”

“Dated and signed.”

“Percy, I think you just became my star
witness.”

The two men arrange a meeting time, and Percy
tells him about Duncan and Ezra. “I’ll give them
your number. They’ll call you.”

“Let me give you my home number. I don’t
suppose you have somethin’ to write with?”

“No, but I’ll remember it. I remember numbers.

I’ll write both numbers down for them.”

“Tell them they can call me anytime. I promised
Loretta that I would not take y’all away from
your jobs unless I absolutely had to.”

“That’s very considerate of you,” Percy says, his
brows furrowing. This guy is unbelievable. Why is
he willing to bend over backwards for this case, I
wonder?

“Don’t want anyone to lose their jobs,” Rob
says simply.

“No, I suppose not,” Percy agrees.

“I’ll see you tomorrow evening, then. Bring those
copies.”

“Yes, sir,” Percy answers automatically, then
wonders what prompted that response. “And I’ll
pass the message along to Duncan and Ezra
that they can call you anytime.”

“And try to impress on them that they should
call me. I’m tryin’ to help, here, and they
shouldn’t worry. I realize that they’ll be
expectin’ that Loretta called Abe Jameson.”

“I was wondering about that, myself, to be
honest.”

“Well, whatever her reasons, she called me, and
I am completely committed to this case. Please
try to convey that to them.”

“I will. I… I think they trust me, even though I’m
just some white boy that was suddenly made
their boss,” he chuckles.

“Good. I’ll let you get back to work,” Rob
says, then gives Percy his home phone number.

“Thanks. See you tomorrow.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Percy walks back to the warehouse, his limp
only slightly noticeable. He worked hard to
develop a natural gait after he was fitted with
the prosthetic, not wishing to attract any more
attention than he normally does.

He goes up to his office and takes a slip of
paper.

Robert Carter. 555-3474 office. 555-2033
home. Call him any time, even at home. Share this
with E.J.

Percy folds the paper in half, then half again,
palming it in his large hand. He finds Duncan
near the loading dock and catches his eye.

Lifting his hand to scratch his neck, he makes
sure to flash the slip of paper in his hand, and
Duncan gives a very slight nod. Percy continues
towards Duncan, who turns to the side, facing
slightly away from his boss.

As Percy brushes past him, Duncan drops his
hand down and behind, fingers outstretched,
grasping the slip of paper Percy places in it.