The 'Cousins'

Part Four : Greg meets the Sherriff

Greg hadn't slept well. He supposed it was the hardness of the bed and the strangeness of his surroundings together with that ever present stench of chicken manure pervading the room that was responsible.

He had every justification to follow his usual rising ritual by mouthing a string of moans and groans at his image in the mirror. More so this morning since the air conditioner had ceased to function during the night and the water in the shower came through only tepid. But today was different.

His mind filled with ideas; good and pleasant ideas; ideas that brought with them a sense of purpose. Instead of directing his customary torrent of abuse at the bathroom mirror he chuckled his way through his misfortunes. While he brushed shaving foam over his face he made a mental list of all he needed to get done before meeting Jess again later in the evening.

He stopped mid-shave while he thought of Jess's arrival. The notion of working with the lad gave him a buzz. Greg carefully shaved the foam from his face and knew he would do what he always did on a working day- get up, make money, bank it and go to bed to bring on tomorrow; so he could get up, get out and make more money.

It was routine now, almost automatic and unexciting. He got through his days with few alarms and fewer excitements. But today was different altogether. He moved more swiftly, more purposefully.

His brain seemed to crackle inside his head with ideas. He was motivated again and he wondered why this should be? Why should today be any different to any other day? He smiled. It was because of Jess!. He would set out to make money today- so what?

The answer was this time, perhaps for the first time, it had a real purpose and was not just for the sake of making money. He would set out to do it for a reason, a specific goal that needed him and his ability to make money: and it would be fun.

Greg stopped again mid shave to consider the implications of what he was undertaking. His success or failure in his career so far had never been more important. His acts or omissions would positively or adversely affect another person's life for all time. A sobering thought and challenge that he took on with relish as he brushed more foam over his face and began shaving it off for the second time. The outcome would be so much more personally satisfying than a note read out in a dreary meeting that stated whether or not "we had attained or failed" to achieve the goal.

Words uttered mechanically in a mechanical process that meant there was more or less money in the bank at the end of the period than was expected. Success would mean Jess could stay at school with the chance to make something of his life if he, Greg, succeeded in this quest; otherwise Jess would join his folks in perpetual poverty if he failed.

"Can you commit to that Mitchell?" He asked his reflection in the mirror. He cut one long stroke of his razor through the cream on his face and said one word.

"Yes."

                                                                 * * *

Greg made himself a cup of instant coffee in his room and switched on the TV to pick up the local news while he dressed. It was mostly political, as the primaries were already in full swing for the Presidential election in November.

Most pundits were arguing whether McCain's choice of Sarah Palin as his running mate was an advantage, because she was a "woman" or an added disadvantage because of his age.

Greg had seen blocks of Post-It notes with George W Bush 'howlers' printed on them and cracked. "The way that woman is going she'll have her own block printed up before she even gets elected." Greg paused with his fingers on the 'Off'' switch while the newsreader recounted Sarah's latest wisdom. "If God don't want us to eat animals, he shouldn't've made 'em outta meat!'