The Hathaway

Advice

Ben called as I was walking back to the museum. He seemed distracted by things that were going on at his job, so I decided to wait until he got home to tell him about Evelyn. About three o'clock the chief of police showed up at my office and I laid my concerns before him.

“Understandable,” he said. “Them protesters were a cagey lot. Knew their rights and had lawyers with 'em and everything. If they set foot on your property again, I would recommend you stay as far away from 'em as you can. Call us and we'll take care of it for you. You did the right thing yesterday. I think they were trying to provoke some sort of physical altercation so they could sue the pants off you.”

“But why?” I was genuinely at a loss to understand their motives.

“It's just what they do. Mindy was right, they were all from out of state. Rabble-rousers who make their living by stirring up trouble. They make friends with someone in a local conservative group and get invited up. Then they start preaching all kinds of nonsense until they get the locals all worked up to think if they don't do whatever it is they want then they will be defying God and go to Hell. Once they've sued as many people as they can they skip town and move on to their next target.” He shook his head, “Nasty bunch.”

“So who did they contact here?”

“From the two locals who showed up yesterday, I'd say it was the Pentecostal Assembly down on rt. 12. Can't say for sure, but it's certainly one of the fundamentalist churches in town, and that one is known for causing trouble.”

“What can we do?” I asked. “What can I do to keep these kids safe once they arrive.

“They may be con artists of a sort, but they're not breaking any laws, so there ain't much I can do. They're not violent either, though some of the more gullible town-folk might be persuaded to do something stupid. I think you need to address the concerns they're raising. They're saying that the kids are all drug addicts and prostitutes, and they're making people believe that these kids will be breaking into homes and stealing to support their habit, or tempting the local kids into promiscuous activities.” He raised his eyebrows at this last statement and I had a flashback to the league of decency and their fears concerning the Hathaway. It seemed things hadn't changed all that much after all.

I assured him, “By the time these kids reach us those with substance abuse problems have already been through various rehabilitation programs and have had to remain clean and sober for at least six months. Also, as you know, prostitution is usually a strategy of last resort growing out of poverty and homelessness, and by the time they arrive here those things are no longer an issue. No one can guarantee that they will not have problems, but we will have trained professionals supervising them at all times and watching for signs that they might be ready to 'fall off the wagon', as it were.”

He nodded. “I know that some of 'em won't want to listen, but you need to make sure folks in town know that.” He thought for a moment. I know there's an old gate in the front, right? Is there a fence?”

I wasn't actually sure and said so. “I've been so engrossed in setting the whole thing up and doing all the networking that I haven't really paid much attention to the grounds. I haven't even brought in landscapers yet. I just hired Helmut to clear up the front yard and the areas nearest the house. I'm not even sure if he knows.”

“Find out,” he counseled. “A fence will do two things. It will clearly define your property and help keep the protesters out, and it will also help ease the fears of local folks. In reality, unless you build an electrified fence topped with barbed wire, a fence offers no real protection. But locals will perceive it as a way of containing your wards and it will make them feel safer., and thus less likely to complain.”

“Good Idea, I'll check in with Helmut tonight. What else ?”

He considered for a moment and said, “Nothing really, just use common sense and let us know anytime those protesters show up again. We can't stop 'em from gathering in the road in front of your place, public access and all, but they are not allowed to block access to your driveway or come onto your land without your permission. We made sure they knew that yesterday.”

“What about some sort of security? Should we hire a guard for the front gate or think about closed circuit cameras?”

“You could, but I expect that would make your kids feel like they're in prison.” He suggested, “You could always put up false cameras to intimidate the protesters. If they think they are being recorded they're less likely to do something stupid. You could just let the kids know they're fake and tell 'em why. They'll probably love it. The other thing is, if you are having another public gathering like you did yesterday, specify that protesters aren't welcome in your publicity. You could also hire a couple of off duty officers to be present as security for the event. These kinds of gigs are usually pretty peaceful and a lot of officers are happy to be earning a little extra now and then.”

“Those are great insights,” I said as I rose from my chair and extended my hand. “Thank you so much for your input.” He shook my hand and smiled as I walked him to the front door.

“I wish everyone in town was as thoughtful as you. An ounce of prevention, you know.” Before he turned to leave he leaned in and said quietly, “And I want you to know I don't believe none of that malarkey they been spreading. I've seen houses like this before and, like you said, there may be a problem or two now and then, but on the whole these places don't cause any real problems if they're handled right, and I expect you'll handle it just fine.”

“Thank you, Chief. I really appreciate that”

As I walked through the gate that evening, I took a closer look, and there were indeed remnants of a wrought iron fence lying on the ground, but it was clearly beyond repair. As I rounded the curve in the driveway I could see that Helmut had already arrived home. Buoyed up by the conversation with the chief of police, I bounded up the stairs and found Ben scurrying around the bedroom in a slightly agitated state. I stopped him and gave him a kiss, which he hardly seemed to notice. “What's going on?” I asked.
“They sprung an inspection tour on us today. No warning. I have to be at the office at five in the morning tomorrow, and I'll be gone for two weeks.”

“They can't do that.” I protested.

“They think they can, and if I want to keep my job there's not a lot I can do about it.”

“That sucks!” I thought for a second, “Wait, that means you won't be here when the kids arrive next week. We've been planning their arrival for months. You're just going to have to tell them...”

“Already have. They made it clear that if I didn't show up I didn't ever need to show up again and I'd be blackballed by every paper company in the state.” He looked at me practically in tears. I spent six years and tens of thousands of dollars to prepare for this job and this is how they treat me. Fucking corporate America!”

By now he was just throwing clothes toward the large duffle-bag he had been packing. I was at a loss and felt I could only watch until he abruptly sat himself on the edge of the bed and buried his face in his hands. I sat beside him and wrapped my arms around him as he wept. “It'll be ok,” I whispered. “We'll miss you, but we'll manage somehow while you're off saving the forest.”

“No it won't,” he sobbed. I've only been there two months, and already I can tell they just use us so they can claim they're practicing sustainable silvaculture. They don't give a flying fuck about the health of the forest, just their public reputation and the precious bottom line.”

“So leave.” I held him tighter. “I would support that decision a hundred percent.”

“It's not that simple.”

“Yes it is!” I insisted. “You're still in the initial probationary period which means you can leave without prejudice without even giving a reason. If this job is going to make you that unhappy, well, there are other jobs out there.”

“You don't think that would make me a quitter? My dad always told us not to be quitters.”

“I think they are making unreasonable demands on you.” I kissed his nose, “But don't just take my word for it. I need to speak to Helmut about the grounds. Why not ask Miss McFiercesen what she thinks while I'm talking to him?”

I told him about my day as we walked to the boarding house. “A navy seal? No fucking way!”

I laughed. “I know! That was my response too.”

“I wondered how she kept Helmut in line.”

“Speaking of Helmut, I was thinking about asking him if he would like to work as a kind of unofficial security person. No uniform or anything. I was thinking we could bring him in as a gardener. He could continue with what he's already been doing, focus on restoring the formal front garden, maybe look at some of he old out buildings scattered around the back of the property, and who knows, maybe he could do some sort of workshops with the kids. But his real job would be to keep an eye out for protesters and the like. What do you think?”

“He can be a bit sex obsessed. Do you think we could trust him around underage kids?”

“He did leer a Heather when he first arrived, but she was an adult, and I've never seen anything to suggest he can't be trusted with kids. Maybe you could ask Miss M. discreetly while you're talking to her.”

“Sure thing.” He was already in better spirits, knowing I would support whatever decision he made about his job. He reached over and took my hand as we walked in silence. When we arrived at the front steps of the boarding house he softly said, “Thank you for understanding,” and kissed me.

“Do you boys ever come up for air?” We hadn't noticed Andi sitting in one of the rocking chairs on the porch. She turned her head toward the open window. “They're here!” she shouted to her housemates inside. “I had a feeling we'd be seeing you again tonight.”

Miss M. popped through the door wearing a frilly apron over her colorful dress. “We've been expecting you!” She was all smiles and welcome. “You are staying for supper, of course.” This was not a request. As we climbed the steps she leaned over to Andi and in a feigned whisper that was intended for us to hear, she asked, “Any butt plugs in evidence?”