AMERICA ONE (7 page)

“That will be nice,” he replied, the shock of his parents’ death not upon him yet.

She radioed in and got permission to stay with him for a couple of hours. It took him an hour before the sobs came out, and she let him be.

He remembered that time well. It was the last time he ever cried. He cried for an hour while the police officer made him a drink and sat with him keeping him company. He was a little embarrassed for crying as she was quite good looking, and not more than half a dozen years older than he was.

After a while his crying stopped and he sat there, not knowing what to do.

That feeling was the same he now felt leaving the Marine Corps. A feeling of “What the hell do I do now?”

“What the hell do I do now?” he asked her once he had composed himself a little.

“Well Victor, you will be eighteen in a few days. That means you are free to do what you want. You are nearly finished with high school. You should finish, get your High School Diploma, and then get a job. I don’t know what will happen to this house. Is it rented?”

“No, my parents pay a mortgage on it,” he replied.

“Do they have a will that you know of?” was her next question.

“My dad was in insurance. I think he, and my mom made one up. They often talked about things like that. I know they have a leather case where they kept important papers.”

“Good,” replied the officer. “My boyfriend is an attorney with the town. I’ll ask him to stop by tomorrow and get permission from you to go through them on your behalf. I’ll ask him to do it as a favor to me, and he won’t bill you anything. I’m sure within a few hours he can tell you what to do. Also I will also get someone to come around every day about five to check up on you, until you are eighteen. OK?” He nodded and she left, promising to visit him on his birthday.

VIN was used to being home alone. He spent an hour or so sitting on his parents’ neatly made bed. The room was quiet, still with the perfumed scent of his mother in the air. He realized that they would never use it again, left the room, and closed the door.

He didn’t attend school the next day, but sat in his mother’s favorite rocking chair on the front porch and waited for company. An older policeman arrived at five, parked on the curb outside the house, walked up and asked if he was OK. Upon asking if VIN had eaten anything that day, the policeman left and returned with two warm slices of fresh pizza, telling VIN that he had better eat.

They sat on the steps of the porch and watched as a second car drove up the driveway this time. The officer knew the lone man who got out of the car. It was the first officer’s boyfriend, the attorney.

The officer left and the two men introduced themselves, and VIN searched for and found the leather case his father used for important papers.

“Not very good,” stated the attorney, Joe, an hour later. “You say your father was an insurance salesman?” VIN nodded. “Well, he didn’t think much of what he sold. All I can find is a funeral policy for him, your mother and strangely enough, one for you. He has a ten year-old policy which looks like it could be worth several thousand dollars. I’m sure he didn’t have anything with the company he worked for; most insurance companies don’t employ fully contracted staff. Your mother has a policy she took out several years ago on herself with a payout amount of $15,000. Your parents owe a bundle on this house and there doesn’t seem to be much equity to collect from it.”

“Will somebody come and take the house, Joe?” VIN asked.

“Eventually, in a few months, after the mortgage isn’t paid,” Joe replied.

“What do you think I should do?” VIN asked.

“Join the military once school is finished,” was the short and honest reply. “It looks like you will have your parents cremated, it states that in their short will, and you get everything. Everything looks like about $30,000 and anything that is paid off in the house. I think you could get something from the crash, my girlfriend believes that your parents weren’t at fault, and whoever was, will have to pay out. But, that could take time in court. Maybe a few months, maybe even a year or two, but I’m sure you will get something. Victor, you seem like a man who needs a home, and soon, and the military is a fantastic home. I know; I spent nine years at Fort Bragg and got a law degree out of it. I’m an orphan and understand your situation. But Victor, that is only my suggestion. You don’t have to do anything I say.”

“What about the marines?” VIN asked.

“Just down the road at Camp Lejeune. I’ve always respected the Marine Corps and think it’s a great institution. I would have joined the marines if I had thought it out long enough, but the army was closest, and I did want to study law. Fort Bragg was ideal for me.”

With Joe promising to look after the paperwork, VIN went back to school and finished the last part of his final year.

On his eighteen birthday a couple of days later, Joe and his girlfriend returned with a small birthday cake for him.

Once he was eighteen, Joe got him to sign the papers to activate, and ten days after his birthday, two checks arrived, both in his name, from the life insurance companies. One was for $20,000 and the second for $7,480. He opened a bank account and deposited the funds and his next job was to sell the household furniture.

Joe found a realtor who managed to sell the house before it went into foreclosure and he received a third check for a measly $1,919.29, once the late mortgage fees, interest and realtor fees had been deducted.

VIN felt very depressed for his parents’ sake. They had worked hard since he could remember, and with the checks he received from the closing of both his parents’ bank accounts, and what the furniture was sold for, his parents had worked their butts off for less than $32,000; a lifetime’s work!

Victor Isaac Noble joined the marines within three months of his eighteenth birthday and two weeks after he sold the family home. All he kept were a few valuables and his parents’ closest mementoes in a safe deposit box at the bank. He asked the bank to invest his money, warned them that Joe had power of attorney over his account, stated that more checks could be arriving in his name, and didn’t visit the bank again until he left the military eleven years later.

Jonesy had been out of the Air Force for a year. He had managed to keep up his flying through. A small inheritance from an uncle who died while he was in military detention had paid a deposit for an old, but airworthy crop sprayer, and he managed to eke out a living spraying farms along the border of the Carolinas.

He lived in Fayetteville, and on one Friday night decided to grab dinner at a local small family diner before finding a bar for a few drinks.

It being a buffet diner, he tiredly stood in line, helping himself to the food after a long day in the cockpit. The food here was good and tasty, and was a favorite with many locals and military personnel alike. He had just paid when he heard his name shouted out from one of the tables. Not being a particularly well-liked person, Jonesy was quite surprised that anybody anywhere would actually call out his name. It was Joe, his attorney, who had left city employment and now had his own legal business. He counted on Joe sorting out the odd legal issue here and there. Joe was sitting with a young man whose close-cropped haircut looked very military.

“Jonesy, meet VIN, short for Victor Isaac Noble.” Joe stood up and welcomed the older man to the table. “VIN here has just been discharged from the military this week. VIN, Jonesy here was discharged from the Air Force a year or so ago and is a mean SOB, but once you get to know him, you’ll find his bark is much worse than his bite.

The two men sized each other up, nodded, and Jonesy sat down. The table was quiet while the food was consumed.

“What’s happening to renewing my spray permits for next year?” Jonesy asked the attorney.

“Not good,” Joe replied. “The seed company that supplies the seed to the farms you spray wants the farmers to use the company’s new department of truck and aircraft crop sprayers and not you local guys. It seems that their monopolies are growing all over the country. They already put all the private crop spraying companies out of business in California over a year ago. With our North Carolina Department of Agriculture being fed financially by this company, I expect a similar law could be passed before the end of the year. South Carolina might hold out a little longer, but the poor farmers haven’t much choice anymore.”

“Crappy politicians as usual,” replied Jonesy.

“They can do that? Companies can force farmers to use their products?” asked VIN.

“Where have you been, kid? Out of the country?” replied Jonesy sarcastically.

“For nine and a half out of eleven years,” answered VIN.

“Where, Timbuktu?” asked Jonesy.

“No, Baghdad,” replied VIN casually.

“U.S. Army?” asked Jonesy.

“No, Marines, Force Recon,” replied the younger man.

“Oh! The real fighters. Special Forces, hey?” stated Jonesy with a little more respect.

“Somebody has to do the dirty work, and without the Air Force backing us up 24/7, I wouldn’t be sitting here now,” VIN replied not wanting to start a fight. He didn’t know how well he would fare without good legs to support him.

“Jonesy, give the kid a break, he has five medals to prove his worth and no legs,” interrupted Joe.

“Sorry to hear that,” replied Jonesy without much remorse for the younger man.

“VIN here was also discharged, like you without the opportunity to stay on. He’s also up shit creek without a paddle, trying to figure out what to do. Maybe you two should join up and start something,” Joe continued keeping the peace.

“Got any money, kid?” Jonesy asked.

“He does, and I will be going over that with him tomorrow,” replied Joe.

VIN did in fact have some money. More than he had thought he might have when he needed it. The next day he sat down in Joe’s small untidy office, and he was told what he had.

“Your last letter to me, VIN, was a month after you completed Boot Camp and accepted permanent enlistment in the Marine Corps. You remember that?” VIN nodded. “In the letter you told me to invest the money for you. At first I used the best company I knew, left a few dollars in your account and invested $29,900 into mostly conservative municipal bonds.”

“Whatever those are,” replied VIN.

“Long term bonds, a constant return from towns or municipalities with five-year or longer minimum payouts. One of your bigger investments of $15,000 was for ten years and paid out $27,700 last year after all federal and state income taxes were paid. Not a bad investment. The others were smaller and your grand total, not including the insurance payouts from the accident, is now $51,850.”

“You mean I have $50,000 in the bank, and my $1,432.00 a month army pension?” asked VIN.

“No, the truck driver’s company was charged with criminal negligence for the death of your parents. A year and one month after the accident, I received two checks from their insurance company, each for $100,000 for the death of your parents. I invested that money in a mix of medium risk shares and municipal bonds on your behalf. It was when I was going into private practice; I borrowed $25,000 of your money and paid your account back over five years at ten percent interest. I have all the documents here. I couldn’t get into contact with you, I needed the money to start, and I’ve paid you every penny I owed you, plus interest.”

“And I haven’t paid you a cent for investing the money for me?” VIN asked.

“No, that was the deal from the very beginning, made by my wife. Remember the good-looking police officer? She made sure I paid back every penny I owed you. I believe that you loaning me the money was sufficient reason for me to keep my promise and make your money work for you. Anyway we are square, and the total money in your account is $323,000.”

“How much?” asked VIN, not believing what he just heard.

“It could have been more, but the last couple of years with this recession which never seems to end, it became harder and harder to make decent returns after 2008. Most of that investment interest was made between 2006 and 2007. Last year it only grew by $7,000.”

“Well that’s more than I ever thought I’d have. I thought that fourteen hundred bucks a month, ten grand in my military savings account and the $30,000 was all I would have to start something new. I’m sure I need to pay you something for all your work, Joe.”

“Not really. It was a good education for an attorney, plus you helped me get started. Here is a new checkbook, a debit card and you can apply to the bank for a credit card. I checked, your credit hasn’t been used, and is in excellent condition.”

VIN took the checkbook, grabbed a pen and made his first check out to Joe for $13,000. “Joe, thank you. Take this and take that good-looking police officer out for an expensive dinner somewhere. You guys have really helped me from the get-go and I’m sure I owe you more than this. If you ever need a loan, let me know. But first I need some wheels. I want to buy a car, a nice car.”

“What sort of car?” Joe asked, still shocked at VIN’s generosity.

“Hell, I don’t know, all the nice cars I’ve seen have been in car magazines I read back at base. I suppose a Porsche or BMW or…I know, that young singer kid I read about in hospital, he has an Audi R8. Now, that Audi looks like a quality ride!”

“But that’s an expensive motor vehicle, VIN!” admonished Joe; his ride was a ten-year old Jeep Cherokee. “You need to keep a nest egg, something that can still make money for you. Fourteen hundred bucks a month won’t get you far when your lump sum is spent.”

“I agree, but a fancy car is everything I have wanted up to now. I don’t need a house; I’m not into fishing, or like that older Air Force guy, flying. All I want is some wheels, some money in my pocket and to head out to find a life. How about I leave about $160,000, half of my total cash after your check, plus my military savings in my account? You invest it for me in those long-term bond things, or stocks, so I can’t get hold of the money for a while, say ten years, in case I run out. Whatever you make for me, you take ten percent to keep my accounts in order. I buy a car and find a life and go forward like that until something changes. What do you think Joe?”