c. 2025 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(5-25)
Sheriff Tom T. Rath started his morning at the Geauga County Safety Center with hope for a new week brightening his mood. He had managed to steer the department into a position that put it at the very top of all such organizations within Ohio. Something that made him both proud and satisfied with his work. But as he entered his personal office, a stack of documents was waiting on his desk. Upon sorting through the pile, he realized that eviction orders requested by the owners of Evergreen Estates were now in his possession. This meant that he would need to visit the isolated, rural enclave, and begin a tedious process of confronting residents, one by one. Something that he did not enjoy.
He slapped his broad palm on the desk, and called for a secretary, who was in an outer room.
“Francine! When did this dreadful heap of paperwork arrive?”
The young woman had her hair pulled back with a plain, plastic clip. She wore no makeup.
“Sir, these came by courier about a half-hour ago...”
The chief lawman felt irritated at receiving a delivery so early in the day.
“How the hell did they get a judge to sign off so quickly? I don’t get it!”
His assistant tweaked her nose and grimaced.
“There are a dozen forms in the stack, sir. I was told by the courier that more will be arriving tomorrow...”
Rath burst into a fit of vocal disbelief.
“MORE? WHAT’RE THEY GOING TO DO, KICK OUT EVERYBODY IN THE PARK??”
Francine Betts shrugged sadly. She did not seem eager to discuss the court orders.
“The lot rent was increased $75.00 per month, sir, with no prior notice. That’s got everyone in the park riled up. I have a cousin who bought a trailer there for his wife and new baby. It has them worried about being able to afford food, and gasoline for getting to work...”
The sheriff gasped, and clenched both of his burly fists.
“DAMNNNNN! SEVENTY-FIVE BUCKS? THAT’S A FORTUNE FOR WORKING STIFFS! HECK, EVEN FOR ME!”
His secretary nodded in agreement. Her eyes had begun to weep tears.
“I don’t know the situation for everyone, but my cousin said they are actually thinking of abandoning the home. That’s drastic, but they are out of options...”
Rath growled with the tone of a wild bear.
“AND WE GET TO DO THE DIRTY WORK? WE GET TO RUN PEOPLE OUT OF A PLACE TO LIVE? WHAT KIND OF JUSTICE IS THAT? THERE’S NO MIDDLE GROUND ON THIS? NO WAY FOR THE JUDGE TO ENFORCE A GRACE PERIOD, OR ANYTHING?”
Francine shook her head. She was actually shocked to hear her boss speak so candidly.
“Apparently not, sir. Apparently not.”
The law officer reached for his uniform hat, and got up from the roller chair.
“I’ll have a confab with the park manager about this. There’s got to be a way to figure something out, maybe. If I kick a dozen families to the curb on the same day, there’ll be reporters and TV cameras all over the place. I hate bad publicity! And I hate being in the spotlight! Maybe we can string out the visits, do a couple at a time or something...”
Upon arriving at the park office, Rath stood outside with a contingent of deputies, and knocked several times. But there was no answer. A search of the premises made him realize that the property headquarters and maintenance garage were unoccupied. This had him puzzled about the legal orders being arranged.
Deputy Oren Pronk pivoted to face the entrance road, while fiddling with his duty belt.
“Who’s running the show, sir? This place looks abandoned!”
The law chieftain did not disagree. He had turned grim about being an enforcer of legal actions with no local involvement by company supervisors.
“There’s always been somebody here. I’ve come to this spot for years, even as a raw recruit. Someone is always drunk and disorderly, having a domestic dispute, playing their music too loud, or arguing with a neighbor. Things never settle down!”
They were debating where to begin with their eviction process, when the noise of an overloaded golf cart sounded from across the trailer community’s parking area. Buckets of gravel were bouncing freely, on improvised floorboards, and in the back. The driver whistled to himself, while battling cracked-up asphalt with the determination of an Army engineer.
Pronk gestured toward the laborer boldly, and shouted for his attention.
“You there! Is there a manager on-site? We need to speak with someone in charge!”
Rahm Stocker was bald, narrow-eyed, and dressed in an orange, Gildan work tee. He had been out filling potholes with crushed aggregate, since the morning.
“Somebody in charge? Nah, not for a month at least...”
Sheriff Rath frowned and grunted.
“So, who do you work for?”
The contract employee grinned with teeth yellowed from smoking and drinking black coffee.
“I get jobs through Home Depot. They send me out to do work like this, it keeps me busy in retirement, you know?”
Whispers sounded from the group of safety officers. Then, their heads lowered in unison.
Finally, Pronk spoke for the team.
“Sir, if he’s being honest, then there’s no official caretaker for this park. All we see are surveillance cameras on the power poles!”
Stocker wiped his sweaty face with a shop rag. He wanted to be done for the day.
“They keep an eye on this dump with an internet connection. That’s what I was told in my orientation. A monitoring company in California is supposed to look at the streaming video. It all sounds like hi-tech stuff, I don’t know whether to believe it or not!”
Rath felt his blood pressure rising.
“I don’t give a damn about California! Who do they have running this operation, in our state?”
The assigned employee shrugged and spread his arms wide with befuddlement.
“I got no idea, friend. Supposedly there’s a lawyer in Cleveland on a retainer. A guy who works part-time...”
Deputy Pronk chortled loudly.
“It sounds like smoke and mirrors to me, sir! Nobody has any responsibility, just a contract agreement and an online account. But if these residents keep paying their lot rent, then I guess it doesn’t really matter! I’d call it a slick setup!”
His department head stiffened, and sighed.
“I’d call it a few things, all spelled with four letters. Like what you’d find on the floor of a horse’s stall! But for now, I guess we’ll settle for something more polite. Maybe the word, efficiency!”
No comments:
Post a Comment