I'm introducing many of the major characters here. I'm also taking a few timid steps along that free trail. Hopefully this will generate interest in the rest of the series.
Sweet Sorrow
by Jack Bates
The city of Sorrow had seen a spat of
dour days. When a troupe of traveling actors arrived and asked the contentious city
council if it could put up a tent outside of the city limits and offer up some
good, old fashion Shakespearean entertainment, the handful of men and one woman
agreed it might do Sorrow some good.
“Well, gentlemen, this is indeed
good news,” the guild’s director said. His name was Hiram Snoops. He went by
the name of Professor. “I’ll need to see the sheriff to obtain the proper
permits, no doubt.”
Myron Overmeyer, a rotund man who
usually displayed a jovial demeanor, rolled a fat cigar between his thumb and
fingers. A great cloud of gray smoke billowed around his head as he exhaled.
“We’re between sheriffs right now,
Professor Snoops,” Overmeyer said.
The elated smile faded from
Professor Snoop’s face.
“Is this a problem, Professor?”
Anthony Capparucio asked. He was the newest member of the council. His two
restaurants were well known in the industrial northern city and beyond it. People
making their way up into Michigan’s other peninsula were known to go to either
eatery before settling into their hotel room.
“It shouldn’t be,” Snoops said. He
played with the brim of his gray, stovepipe hat.
“But it could be,” Overmeyer said.
The cigar was wedged into the corner of his mouth. He eyed the Professor.
“Gentlemen, I’m sure you are all
well aware of the Globe theatre and its history with the Groundlings.”
The men on the council looked at one
another. The lone lady in its ranks cleared her throat.
“The Groundlings were the riff raff
of the theatre going crowd,” Aggie St. Pierre said. When she spoke, the men
listened. “They tended to get a little rambunctious.”
“More than a little, history tells
us. They were as interested in what was taking place on stage as off. Fights,
cursing, philandering. And need I remind you of what happened in New York City
not so long ago.”
“You can remind me,” the youngest
member of the council said.
“Shut up, Zenas,” Olds Langston
barked. If Jeremiah Zenas was the youngest to obtain a seat at the table of
city affairs, then Olds Langston held the seat at the other end of the
spectrum. A withered, stretched-skin hand clutched the silver globe of a
walking stick. “I knew it was a mistake to allow a representative from
Pineville.”
“We’re not going to go into that
now, Olds,” Overmeyer said.
“Why the hell not?” Olds Langston
asked. His voice was as irritating as fingernail on slate. “We currently are
not discussing anything of any importance.”
“If you could keep your prejudice
out of your head long enough to listen, you’d realize the man here is asking
for security at his intended show,” Aggie St. Pierre said. Olds Langston lifted
his free hand and waved it through the air. “Is that what this is about,
Professor?”
Professor Snoops smiled delicately
at the lady. “It is indeed, Madame. Your beautiful city is, how shall I say
this, somewhat isolated from the rest of your fine state.”
“He means we’re hicks,” Zenas said.
“I know what he means,” Overmeyer
said.
Professor Snoops drew up his
shoulders. He tucked his hat under his arm. “I am in no way insinuating
anything of the sort. What I am trying to point out is riding into Sorrow this
afternoon as my troupe and I did, we noticed there was quite a few men walking
about with guns on their hips or rifles in their arms.”
“That’s just because the lumber yard
and coal mine payrolls arrived today,” Jeremiah Zenas said.
“Shut up, you idiot!” Olds Langston
smashed the silver tip of his walking stick onto the polished pine floor.
“I don’t see what the big deal is,”
Jeremiah Zenas continues. “The banks are closed now until Monday.”
Professor Snoops cleared his
throat. “This is of the matter to which
I am greatly concerned. News like this could bring in an element of
ne’er-do-wells.”
“There wouldn’t be news like this if
idiots like Zenas over there kept their mouths shut,” Langston said. He gained
a chorus of approval from his long time confederates Ollie Flath and Ham
Jonson.
“What is your concern, Professor?”
Aggie St. Pierre asked once again. She was clearly trying to keep the
discussion on the item at hand and not let Olds Langston go off pontificating
about Pineville, the poorer section of Sorrow.
“Knowing how the words of the great
bard can generate deep empathy within the patrons, my actors have some grave
concerns about their safety.”
“Grave being the key word,” Aggie
said.
“Indeed, Madame, indeed. It took
very little for the audiences in New York to riot and all they were upset about
was who played the better Macbeth.”
“Are you performing Macbeth?”
Overmeyer asked.
“Henry the Fifth,” the Professor
said.
“Ah, the St. Crispin Day speech,”
Aggie St. Pierre said.
Professor Snoops bowed his head and
smiled. “When we fire the cans, the audience rejoices.”
“What is the issue here?” Olds
Langston demanded.
Overmeyer took the cigar out of the
corner of his mouth. “The Professor is concerned that some of the men in town
waiting to be paid might get a little enthusiastic during the play and start
shooting holes in the actors. Am I right, Professor?”
“Yes, Mr. Chairman. It is why I was
hoping to speak to the sheriff about collecting any and all firearms before
patrons entered the tent.”
“Outlandish!” Ollie Flath said. “Why
this is still America. A man has a right to carry a gun anywhere he pleases.”
“Well don’t allow them at town
meetings, Ollie,” Aggie said. “Not since Kipper Wells put a slug in Quentin
McKay’s back.”
Ollie Flath slammed a fist on the
table. “You know that had nothing to do with town business and everything to do
with a strumpet of a wife.”
“But it happened here,” Overmeyer
said. “And ever since people have understood there is a time and a place for a
gun. Folks, I need a motion.”
Aggie raised her hand and Overmeyer
recognized her. “I move all patrons must check their weapons at the gate prior
to seeing any performance of any theatrical presentation.”
Ham Jonson demanded to know who
would be in charge of this.
“No debate until we have a second,”
Overmeyer said. Jeremiah Zenas seconded the motion. The vote went down to a
three-three tie leaving the deciding vote to Myron Overmeyer. He voted in
favor.
