“What the hell? He should be open,” he said to Frank, who was checking his own watch.
They set their gear down and took turns looking inside the shop. There was no one inside. No lights. No movement.
“You got his cell number in your phone?” Patton asked Frank, searching his own phone for the number.
“Let me check,” Frank said, pulling out his phone.
Neither of them had the number, but before they could return their fishing gear to Patton’s truck, they saw a big red Ford pickup coming towards them, trailing dust from the gravel road. It was Tom. They left their gear and approached their friend.
“There you are, Tom,” Patton said with a relieved smile. The smile faded when he saw Tom’s expression. His face was a mixture of anger and dejection, resembling a sad child.
“What’s wrong Tom?” Frank asked, who walked past them without a hello. Tom dug into his pockets for his keys and finally found the right set.
“Sorry guys,” Tom said morosely. “I’m not opening. I just need to come out and get something at the shop.” He brushed a lock of white hair out of his eyes and unlocked the door.
Patton and Frank looked at each other in dismay.
“You’re not closing for good are you?” Frank asked, partially joking, knowing it was a preposterous idea. Tom looked at them and then looked away off into space. “Tom. What’s going on?” Frank asked, serious now. Tom snapped out of his trance. He turned and entered the store, greeted by a ringing bell.
“Come in boys. I got somethin’ to show you,” he said, walking towards a workbench that was strewn with tie-flying equipment. He walked over to his cash register and picked up an envelope that had been roughly torn open. He handed it to Patton and said, “Take a look at this and see what our good buddy Governor Asher is up to now.”
The mention of that name alone caused Patton’s hackles to rise. He snapped the envelope out of Tom’s hand and pulled out a two-page letter. He opened it to find the “City of Blue Creek” logo on the top. It was a professionally printed letter. It read:
Dear Dr. Perry,
According to our records, before your arrival at Blue Creek you were an oncologist. Our records also show that you are not currently working in that field or any other health-related field.
A law, recently passed by our City Council, and signed by our Governor, states that any profession that has a shortage must be filled by the most experienced person who is not currently working in that field. Any person that is selected to fill a vacancy must cease operating an alternative business or employment (if applicable) as soon as they begin in their new profession. Another part of this law states that any economic enterprise that continues after the selected person has begun in their new career, said economic enterprise will incur a 25% tax penalty.
We apologize for any inconvenience that this may bring to you, but there is a drastic shortage in your field and we need your services for this community. Please report to City Hall no later than ten days past the date of this letter. Any delay will incur fines and penalties, and possibly arrest, for failure to abide by this city statute.
Thank You.
It was signed by some bureaucrat that none of them knew. Patton desperately wanted crumple the letter, but it didn’t belong to him. He fought the urge and handed it back to Tom.
“You got a copy machine?” Patton asked.
“In the back. You want a copy of this?” he asked, puzzled.
Patton nodded.
The older man walked out of the room into the office. After a few minutes he returned with the original document and a copy for Patton.
“Here you go,” Tom said, handing him the papers and looking around his shop. Two small tears ran down his cheeks and he embarrassedly wiped them away. “Gettin’ old,” he said, turning away from them, continuing to wipe at his face.
Frank went to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. The older man didn’t shy away from the affectionate gesture. “There’s gotta be something we can do about this,” Frank said, first to Tom and then looked at Patton with hopeful eyes.
Patton wasn’t feeling very hopeful at that moment. He’d done all he could for this city, but this move felt like checkmate. He’d engineered a recall election, helped his candidate win, and then nearly won himself. Now, after all that, it seemed like they were deeper in the hole. Patton nodded absent-mindedly, not really believing it himself. He couldn’t see any way out of this one.
“I’m retired,” Tom said, his head hung low. “Man, I retired ‘cause I couldn’t hack it anymore. Nothing but problems and people not paying their bills and crabby nurses and secretaries…” he cut himself off and threw up his hands. He ran his thick-knuckled fingers through his hair, mussing it as he did so.
“I’m mentally checked out of being a doctor,” he continued. “Once that happens, you can’t go back. You can’t ever get that fire back and that’s what it takes. Sure you get paid pretty well, but is it worth it? Hell, that’s got to be the most stressful job in the world. Even the best of us mess up. Even when we don’t mess up, things just sometimes go wrong you know? And whose fault is it?” he asked rhetorically.
Patton and Frank just stood there dumbly. Neither of them had anything useful to say so they said nothing.
“You know Patton, I really admire you,” Tom said. “I know you wouldn’t put up with this. You’d tell them to all go to hell. But guess what. I’ll be going down there and doing what they tell me to. And I’ll close up this shop, I reckon.”
Patton looked at him, a new courage surging through him. He was about to speak but stopped himself, obviously deep in thought. He paced away a few steps and then paced back. After a few more moments he looked back up at Tom.
“Tom, howbout I buy the place from you and let you run it for me?”
The older man’s first impulse was to reject the offer, but he stopped himself and thought about it for a moment.
“Would they let you do that?” he asked hopefully.
“I don’t see why not,” Patton said, his voice regaining his confidence. “You won’t have to close up and you won’t get taxed for it.”
“But what if you get called to do something for them?”
Patton looked at Frank and Frank looked at Patton and they both laughed.
“What?” Tom said, smiling for the first time since he’d arrived here.
“Tom, these bastards are stupid and greedy, but I don’t think even they have the need for a retired plastics manufacturer,” Patton said.
Tom smiled then chuckled. He extended his hand to Patton who took it and shook it warmly.
“Name your price,” Tom said. “I’ll have the paperwork drawn up by the end of the week.”
The drive home from the lake seemed long. Patton dropped Frank off at home and then made his way to Jennifer’s house, where they were staying that week. When he walked into the house, he saw a familiar object in his wife’s hand—a two page letter from the City of Blue Creek.
“You’re kidding me,” he said to her, wide eyed.
She looked at him, confused.
“You haven’t even read it yet.”
Patton grabbed it and shook his head and began pacing around the kitchen.
“Tom got one just like this,” he said, holding the letter towards her. “They’re making him close his shop and he has to go work at the hospital in a couple weeks.”
He pulled the pages out of the envelope and unfolded them. He read for a minute and then looked up at her.