Monday, September 7, 2020

A Troubling Incident Involving Our Son.












One day during the time when we lived in the part of the State where we were then located, our son, Niles Jerbik, came home from school, this time without the beechers that had  become his constant companions, apparel-wise, and told us something mildly disturbing. He said that while he wandered idly through the aisles of a stationery shop in a somewhat 'seedy' part of town, he overheard a woman say something to a person she appeared to know. He couldn't make out the words, but he knew from the sound of it that something 'just wasn't right'. I questioned him deep into the night, all-out interrogated him, in fact. Still he was scant on the details but, from the look on his eleven year-old face, I could tell that people up and down the line might risk asking some very uncomfortable questions. Questions that neither Niles nor I had any easy answers for.





In what would prove to be the turning point of our marriage, my wife, Glevenda Molincourt, decided during this very same evening to tell me a point-blank lie, directly in front of my sorry face, about something that happened the previous week. I'd been having trouble completing a meal-planner for a facility I'd been running on the sly since my brother-in-law, Hiram Maccabee, had been hooked in a likely operation to scuttle the results of an overbroad inquiry into School Board voucher receipts. I knew he was clean but that didn't stop my wife from going full 'third degree' and throwing away a precious appliqué that I'd been hauling back and forth underneath my Ram 250 for the better part of a month. When word got out that we were in trouble, suitability-wise, I was approached by concerned busybodies from as far away as Old Sarleytown and told to mind my own business and not to stick my neck out, if I knew what was good for me. The problem was, if anything was to prove 'good' for me, I'd have to adhere to my original plan, even though I knew that I would live to regret every last second of it.





Once we told our son to go to his room, my wife and I had a 'heart-to-heart' and reached a provisional agreement. I was to provide a minimum of five dollars per year in electronic payments and she would take steps to engage an unidentified brunette in a troubling conversation, the results of which cannot be made public until all concerned have been fully vetted. Further, we will announce the winner of a Fantasy Dream Competition from the stage of the Newport Convention Center on or about August 12, 2024. We will be approaching a number of independent contractors to provide armed security, warning spots, executive food services, pet laundry devices and leased tracking launchers. Anyone who fills our bill of particulars is invited to submit a sealed bid no later than December 9, 1996. See you in court.


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4 comments:

  1. So I met Miles the other day at said stationery shop. It is indeed in a very bad part of our world, but "seedy" can be overstating the ruins. Seeds are good things. Miles, who resembles you not at all, is a fine specimen although he could benefit from a little weight gain. I never knew the human body had so many bones, so thank you for that. Other than that, I just wanted to report that he was earnestly attempting to better the neighborhood. I wanted to tell him that he was fighting a losing battle, not to waste his limited time on improbable causes. He would not even give me 5 minutes of his time! Such a special boy! You should be proud. I just thought you should know what he has been up to and that I posted his bail (please, it was my pleasure!) Next time he might not be so lucky. He cried a little bit, so you might want to address that. He also wet his pants which is another thing altogether, so you probably shouldn't even mention that. I just wanted to keep you in loop and please know that all eyes are everywhere. No hiding from your deeds, good or bad.

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    1. Only one not-so-insignificant 'problem',.. to wit: our beloved son's name begins with the fourteenth letter of the alphabet, NOT the thirteenth letter. That is to say, he is NOT named after the famed Jazz trumpeter, but rather that big old river in Egypt, if there were more than one of them.

      In any event, all of us here at 'the Compound' applaud your efforts at community betterment. But still, little Niles has been crying himself to sleep every night since he saw that you mis-spelled his name. You know what I tell him? I tell him to 'grow up and get a fucking life already!' Serves him right for disturbing my 'quality time'!

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  2. Might I suggest that your "other" son, MILES was the one I approached that fateful day. No wonder the kid is so messed up. He never mentioned NILES, and who names a kid after a river anyway. He is one hurting buck-a-roo, let me tell you. I feel more empathy for him now and I totally understand his total lack of normalcy. I gave him my number and told him to call me whenever he feels the need to vent or repent. I have not heard from him, so maybe I was mistaken...I took Miles for Niles or maybe I just hit the wrong key. Do not apologize to Niles for my mistake, he has to learn the hard way, just like the rest of us.

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    1. You have been reported to the Department of Homeland Security and the FBI. Both Niles and Miles have agreed to testify against you in an agreement signed October 12, 1997. You are required to answer a 'show cause' order issued in the Southern District of New York on March 18, 2011. Further it has been determined that certain of your hare-brained associates were spotted acting suspiciously at the West Palm Beach Airport on or about July 18, 2018.

      What all the above adds up to is not a 'pretty picture' to say the least. If I were you I'd make it my first priority to retain competent legal representation. You're looking at five to fifteen in the Federal pen. And that's on a 'good' day. Amen.

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