Red State Hero

Chapter 57 Reggie--Part III

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But then a gunslinger rode into town-one Rex Cashman, Texas oilman, hero of the Alaska pipeline, dealmaker in Montana and representative of the Goodwyn brothers, the major investors in Blueridge Gas. He had been sent to take a look.

The first thing Cashman did was "check out the ranch". He did it in his Bentley. Perhaps the only Bentley in Metro City, perhaps the only Bentley in West Virginia. It was silver-skinned with chrome-spoked wheels. Of course he didn't try driving up to locations; he summoned field hands over the company radio. They waited on him, followed his orders and at the same time were impressed by the Bentley. It was all part of his plan, with each stop he crossed off another location on his map. He finally worked his way to Sterling where he was told Glenn could be found at the high school football field.

Now Glenn wasn't expecting Rex Cashman. Indeed, Rex was the last person Glenn expected to see; but there he was, getting out of his Bentley on the forty-yard line. Rex counted twelve workmen, eight were spray painting the bleachers in teams of two, and two others were in a cherry picker wiring lights while two more were in the broadcast booth-one of those was Daniel who had driven down from Cape Cod with his old 300 watt Yamaha amp and mixing board. He was showing Lonnie Lombardi, a local entertainer how to connect it up to a tape deck. Lonnie Lombardi had cassettes of Gospel, of military marches and the school song. Daniel had just inserted an R.C.A. plug into the back of the deck when Rex Cashman surmounted the ladder into the booth.

"I saw you drive up in the Bentley," Daniel said surprising Rex who didn't think "the locals" could recognize such a car.

"Spent a year in London, actually saw Bentleys and Rolls' everywhere," Daniel added.

This remark led to a conversation about oil drilling in the North Sea. "I know the Scotch don't think the oil is ‘British" they say it's Scotch oil."

Cashman grinned and said, "Speaking of Scotch, do you know where a man could get a bottle of Chivas?"

I'd recommend the State Liquor Store. I don't think there's a bar in town you'd wanna go in and my folks are teetotallers, but you know my step dad is a Mason; I guess the Masons have a bar."

As if on cue Glenn popped up the ladder.

As he slowly climbed into the announcer's booth, Glenn was surprised. His eyes took in Rex's Cayal boots, the hand worked belt and turquoise belt buckle and the white Stetson hat. The rest was standard issue-grey slacks, black blazer and white polo shirt. It was, no doubt, Rex Cashman. Glenn held out his arm and the men shook hands. Cashman's grip was like cold fish. This put Glenn off; it was a signal, an abuse of courtesy, this limp handshake, but he pretended not to notice.

"What's going on?" asked Cashman.

Well, we're fixing up the football stadium; it was a real mess."

"Does the main office know about this?"

"What's the main office got to do with it?" Glenn snapped.

Cashman grinned a toothy smile and said, "It's company time and money isn't it?"

"It's good community relations that's what it is," Glenn corrected,
Rex made a face and Glenn said, "This is West Virginia, if you get on the wrong side of these people they'll steal you blind, they'll hurt you in a thousand ways; just ask some of the mine operators around here."

"What about law enforcement?" said Rex.

"This ain't Texas, Rex. The people who settled here did so to get away from law enforcement. There's a million places to bury a pushy cop in these hills and the people around here stick together."

Rex didn't say another word, he turned and started down the ladder, "I'll see you in Metro City," he called out.

Glenn watched the Bentley drive onto the main road. "Maybe I blew it," he said under his breath."

As for Cashman, he realized that Glenn wouldn't be easy but ultimately Glenn didn't have a leg to stand on.

The first thing Cashman said to Reggie was, "Did you know about the football field in Sterling?"

"What football field?" Reggie asked.

"The One that Glenn is renovating with company help and company equipment."

"Run that by me again," said Reggie who was not surprised at anything Glenn might do.

There was a long silence while Cashman guillotined a Jose Padron. "Are you a cigar man?" he said as he lit up. "This is a 1964 Anniversary Series Exclusivo-fifty bucks in Key West."

He took in the cigar smoke making the embers a bright orange, then he withdrew the cigar from his mouth and held it out in front of him. "It's a work of art, an absolute masterpiece."

Reggie took a deep breath and said, "The way things work with Glenn, and I want you to know that I crossed horns with him when I first got here; but the way things have always worked is that I was told to leave him alone."

"Who told you that?"

"Lewis, Lewis told me. He said that when it came to the field operation, Glenn would be my guru. Well, he didn't use those exact words."

"Well, I'll tell you what, Reggie, come Saturday night you and I are gonna take a ride to Sterling in my Bentley and we're gonna watch a little football."

And they did. Glenn expected as much and he met them as they parked, pulled out his wallet and handed Reggie a check for ten thousand dollars. "This is a little more than it cost to fix things up." And then he walked away without a word paying no attention to Cashman at all.

It was a moral victory for Glenn but not a legal victory, not in the strictest sense. Reggie knew it, Cashman knew it and Glenn knew it; but when the announcer said at halftime, "I suppose you notice the stadium's been fixed up real nice and for that we want to thank Blueridge Gas and Sterling's own Glenn Reeves."

Reggie exchanged glances with Cashman who screwed up his mouth into a Texas drawl and said, "He's a smart old dog ain't he?"

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