| Episode 2 |
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Our Tangled Web: Episode Two
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Time: Recently Miami International Airport was crowded, as usual. Alex Reynolds and his son Steven hurried to concourse C, where they were expecting Steven's sister Frances. Steven's plane had arrived half an hour late, at the other end of the terminal, at concourse H. Frances' plane had arrived ten minutes early, and they were afraid she would have come out the gate already. "I don't see her," said Steven. "Stay here and I'll take a quick run around the area and make sure she's not here yet. The plane landed only twenty minutes ago, she probably isn't here yet." "There she comes," said Alex, "Way back there. With the red blouse." "I see her." Frances' blond hair bounced on her shoulders as she approached. She appeared to be talking with a young man at her side. When she saw them, she began walking faster. As she arrived, she ran forward and gave her father a hug, and then gave a hug to Steven. Turning to the young man that had accompanied her, she said, "Daddy, this is Phillip Worthington. He sat next to me on the plane." "Alex Reynolds," said Alex, shaking hands with the young man. "Glad to meet you, Sir," said Phillip. "Here comes my father. Dad, this is Frances Reynolds, and her father Alex Reynolds." "And my son, Steven," said Alex. "Glad to meet you," said the gentleman. "I'm Benjamin Worthington." "We've already met," said Alex. "We have?" asked Benjamin, obviously surprised. "A long time ago," said Alex. "We were probably around thirteen, and our families were on Cumberland Island for the summer. We played together a lot that summer." "Oh my God," exclaimed Benjamin. "Of course, I remember that. I'll never forget that summer. Alex, I don't think I knew your last name. I certainly never associated the Alex Reynolds with that childhood friend. That was a very special summer for me. I walk with a limp, and a bunch of boys were giving me a hard time, and you chased them away. You said that you hadn't noticed my limp until they mentioned it. You said it obviously wasn't that important to anyone that knew me. I'll never forget that, as long as I live. It changed forever the way I saw myself." "That was a great summer," said Alex. "Carefree days of youth, and all that. Once in a while, I think about Cumberland Island and about going there for a vacation. So far though, it hasn't happened. I have a soft spot for islands. I always have." "So have I," said Benjamin. "Do you live in Miami?"
"We have a place on Little Torch Key, just this side of Key West," said Alex. "As I said, I have a thing for islands. I think my whole family does." "So does mine. We have a family place on Hillsboro Beach, just north of Lauderdale. It's an island, I guess." "I know it well," said Alex. "A lovely spot." "It's getting too crowded," said Benjamin. "Well, too much traffic, at least. Say, Alex, speaking of islands, I just got back from a trip to the Bahamas. I may be putting together a consortium to develop a small group of islands in the Exumas chain, called the Bock Cay Archipelago. If you and your family are so into islands, maybe you might care to go in with us on it. Check out Bock Cay on the Internet, and see what you think. Let me give you my card. Give me a call. I'd love to sit and talk with you. Unfortunately, we have a houseful of people holding dinner for us." He handed a card to Alex. "Please don't let this end here." "Here's my card. I will check out Bock Cay. If you don't hear from me for some reason, call me. We will get together. If not in the Bahamas, we'll meet somewhere else. I'm sure of it. I called you Ben, that summer. Do they still call you that?" "Family and friends call me Ben. So, please call me Ben, Alex." "Maybe you and I will see each other again, Frances, if our fathers get together. I hope so," said Phillip. "So do I," said Frances. "Until then, have a great summer." "You too," said Phillip, as his father took him by the arm. "Glad to meet you, Frances and Steven," called Benjamin. "Goodbye." Benjamin Worthington called his chauffeur, "Charles, we will be waiting for you outside C entrance. Get there as soon as you can." As they walked toward the door, Phillip said, "I was surprised to see you so cordial with Alex Reynolds. I've heard you and Grandfather say some pretty harsh things about him, especially Grandfather." "First of all," said Benjamin, "It never occurred to me that he was the Alex that I knew as a boy. Moreover, just because you disagree with someone doesn't necessarily mean that you hate them or even dislike them. I disagree with you sometimes. I'm sure you disagree with me from time to time. That doesn't destroy our relationship. A person should have to earn hate, just as he would have to earn admiration. " "Even if he is completely wrong?" "I doubt that anyone is wrong all the time. I know that no one is right all the time," said Benjamin. "Except Grandfather," said Phillip. "Yes. Except your grandfather. At least, he seems to think he is right all the time." The Reynolds were standing around the luggage carousel, waiting for Frances' luggage. "Phillip seems like a nice guy," said Frances. "His father does too. I was surprised. I seem to remember a bit of criticism about the Worthingtons in The Vantage Point." "They aren't exactly angels," said Alex. "Especially, Ben's father, Stanley. He was director of the CIA at one time, and he seems to have been involved in some pretty bad things. I haven't heard much bad about Benjamin, but his brother Roger is following in the old man's footsteps though." "Would you consider doing business with them?" asked Steven. "They do have a reputation for making money on everything they touch," said Alex. "Financially, you could probably do a lot worse. There may be moral considerations, of course. It depends on the situation. I will look at it. If it looks good, I'll take it up with the family. " "There are a lot of hurricanes in the Bahamas," said Frances. "That's very true," said Alex, "and it is a serious consideration. I'm sure they are aware of that." "You know that my Master's thesis is on architectural considerations for hurricane prone locations?" "I know," said Alex. "You could certainly be of service to them, couldn't you?" "That had occurred to me," said Frances, with a grin. ***
Hillsboro Beach  "It takes forever to get here anymore," said Stanley Worthington, as he greeted Benjamin and Phillip. "Between the apartments they keep building up and down the beach and the sightseers, A1A is more like a parking lot than the quiet little road it used to be. The older I get, the more I appreciate peace and quiet, and the less of it there is.""You would have loved Bock Cay then," said Benjamin. "You couldn't possibly get more peace and quiet than there is there. Of course, we won't let it remain that way—not completely. " "It might not be a bad idea though," said Stanley." Aren't there half a dozen islands? " "Right," said Benjamin. Stanley raised his hand. "I don't want you to tell me all about it now, because you'd just have to repeat it all later for the others, but tell me what you think. Yes or no. Good deal or not." "I have to say yes. Good deal. A real bargain. Actually there eight islands: three large ones, three smaller ones, and two tiny ones. I had thought we'd use one of the large ones for residences for the owners, plus the few select people we might let in on it. I'll tell you and everyone else at dinner. Sorry to keep you waiting. The traffic was miserable coming up I-95 and, as you said, A1A is never speedy." "Welcome back to sunny Florida, Phillip," said Stanley. "If you two want to freshen up before dinner, you had better get to it. I think dinner was planned for half an hour ago, and if the food is lousy, the cook will say it is because we told her wrong." "I'll be there in five minutes," said Benjamin. "I just want to wash my hands." "Sounds like a good idea," said Phillip. "Me too." Over dinner, Benjamin told them all about the Bock Cay Archipelago. He said one island seemed a natural for commercial development. It had a sheltered, circular bay that would be perfect for a few beachfront hotels. A marshy area in the middle could be dredged out to make a marina, with what they dug out being used to make some of the building areas higher. One island would likely be used for the Worthingtons and their partners, plus a few others. He saw the whole place as an exclusive resort area. "High priced and exclusive," said Stanley. "You know William Cochran will want in on this, and he will want to put a bank there." "Of course he will," said Roger Worthington, Benjamin's brother. "He wants to put a bank everywhere." "Especially outside the United States, these days," said Stanley. "Outside the United Kingdom too. You can't blame him for that. Bush, Blair, and Brown must have been infected by the same Genghis Kahn virus. Outside of Blair's and Brown's ability to speak English, there doesn't seem to be much difference between the three of them. One is as bad as the other. You hear a lot of reasons advanced for 9/11, but one that might be significant is overlooked completely. The G8 countries had met almost monthly, prior to 9/11, to discuss what to do about tax havens. Then Bingo, we get 9/11. The buildings hadn't even fallen when they were blaming terrorists and saying that banking secrecy was responsible, because that was the way terrorists were financed. We know all the G8 leaders have billions hidden away personally, so they don't want to end the secrecy where they are concerned; they just want to get at their enemies. 9/11 essentially provided a convenient solution to that problem for them. If you don't let the governments look at your banking records, you are supporting terrorists." "Phillip sat beside Frances Reynolds on the plane," said Benjamin, changing the subject. "Who is Frances Reynolds?" asked Benjamin's sister, Geraldine Worthington . "She's Alex Reynolds' daughter," said Benjamin. "He was there to pick her up, and I talked for a while with him." "You talked with Alex Reynolds? I would have liked to have seen that," said Roger. "He was very nice," said Phillip. "Dad was nice to him and vice-versa." "Actually, he and I were once friends," said Benjamin. "When we were kids, one summer on Cumberland Island, we played together all summer." "Oh, I remember him, now that you bring it up," said Geraldine. "He was a nice boy. I liked him. I didn't know that he was the Alex Reynolds." "I sort of remember him. I remember that he and Ben were together all the time that summer," said Jane Worthington, the youngest of Stanley and Janet's four children. Jane had been the black sheep of the family, getting pregnant when she was nineteen and unmarried. Stanley and Janet had been shocked, but supportive. Stanley struck a deal with the man, who was fifteen years older than Jane. There was a quiet marriage, an equally quiet divorce, and a permanent disappearance on the part of the father. The child, Astrid, was now twenty-two years old, single, and if her mother and most of her family were correct in their suspicions concerning her sexual preferences, would probably remain single. It was, of course only a suspicion, as they had no concrete evidence. She was an adult tomboy, who had lived with three female roommates and, as far an anyone knew, had never been seriously involved with a man. "You were and still are three years younger than I," said Benjamin. "At that age, that was a huge gap. We were too old to play with a little girl like you were at the time." "That was a long time ago," said Stanley. "While I have to admit that he and his father have not been as hard on us as a lot of others, John Reynolds has taken us to task more than once in his magazine." "He has been fairly objective about it," said Benjamin. "Better than most." "I do get the impression that John Reynolds is a straight shooter," said Stanley. "I don't know about Alex, but I suppose he's a chip off the old block." "Anyway, I told him about Bock Cay and offered him a chance to get in on it," said Benjamin. "You're kidding," said Roger. He looked at his brother closely. "You're not kidding. You really did. Can you imagine us in business with John Reynolds?" "I didn't ask John Reynolds," said Benjamin. "I asked my old friend Alex. Alex was good to me. That summer, a bunch of guys were giving me a hard time because of my limp, and Alex came to my defense and told them to leave me alone." "That was nice of him," said Geraldine. "Not only that," said Benjamin, "he told me he hadn't really noticed my limp until they started teasing me about it. He said that it obviously wasn't all that important, if he hadn't noticed it. He said he would rather have a nice friend like me with a limp any day than a thousand so-so friends without limps. He said my personality and my brains were far more important than a little limp. That changed my whole outlook on life, right then and there. " "He can't be all that bad," said Geraldine, "even if it was a long time ago." "I knew something had changed you completely," said Stanley. "I guess I thought you had just grown up." "I guess I did," said Benjamin, "with a little help from Alex." "John Reynolds has a reputation for being completely honest and trustworthy," said Stanley. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to have someone like that in on a project like this." "How come you never mentioned your friend Alex, to me, Ben," asked his wife, Rachel. "To tell the truth, I hadn't thought about it that much since then.," said Benjamin. "I didn't remember Alex's last name—if I ever knew it--and I never connected him with the Alex Reynolds of Reynolds Publishing. He remembered me and brought it up. We seemed to hit it off again, after all these years." "I have nothing against him being in on it," said Stanley. "I'm not crazy about it," said Roger, "But as Dad says, he would add respectability to the venture. His father might go a little easier on us in his Vantage Point too. That would be a plus." "He might not go for it," said Benjamin. "I just mentioned it. He'll check it out on the Internet, and we'll talk about it. He and his family may not be too crazy about doing business with us either. They would add respectability to the venture, but they may not consider it a plus having our name linked to theirs." "We seem to have a reputation for being bad guys," said Phillip. "Can't we afford to do things that are right now? We are pretty well off. Do we have to do wrong things to make money?" "Right and wrong are relative, Phillip," said Stanley. "Live and let live is the order of the day. What is right for us is probably wrong for someone else. You can't come up with anything that isn't wrong for someone. Our primary obligation is to try to do what is right for us. Everyone else's obligation is to do what is right for them." "But much of what we do is indirectly taking other people's money. I'm talking about the things we do for the government," said Phillip. " "You're wrong there," Stanley said. "Sure, the government is filled with crooks. They steal everyone's money. They damn sure get a lot of ours. They aren't going to stop stealing it just because we stop getting what we can of it. The government has already stolen all this money. We are just relieving them of a little bit of it. If you know a bunch of drug smugglers that have a huge cache of drug money, and you make off with some of it, yes, technically, you have stolen it. But in this case, the identity of the victim and where and how they got the money mitigates the act of taking someone's money. You have to see that. Here is how it works: The money has already been ripped off from the citizens. The politicians can't just stick it in their pockets. They would get caught and put in prison if they did that. They have to find a way to spend it that puts money in their pocket, in a way that they won't get in trouble for. They give companies like ours a contract for a million dollars for a half a million-dollar job, and we slip them a hundred thousand under the table. If some banana republic leader is interfering with the flow of cash into their offshore accounts, it is worth a lot to have this leader out of the way. He is going to go, one way or the other. Far better that a private enterprise takes care of it than that they send thousands of American boys there and hundreds of them and thousands of the local citizens die, to get rid of one obstacle to the politician's plans. So you see, what we do isn't the immoral thing you might suspect. In most cases, we are preventing something far worse from happening. " "Gee," said Phillip, "I never thought of it that way." "Almost no one ever does," said Stanley. "Look at what the government went through to get rid of Saddam Hussein. All the bad things they gave as reason why he had to go, he was doing openly for years, while they were pumping money and arms to him. But when he started selling his oil for something besides dollars, they had to take him out and make an example of him. Now Iran is doing the same thing and they are talking about getting them., but Iran is a lot bigger, and they have at least one pretty formidable friend. that might take up for them, the way Alex Reynolds took up for you back then, Ben.. They've killed at least eight or nine thousand of our boys and girls, maimed probably fifteen or twenty thousand of them, killed a million Iraqis, and poisoned the land in Iraq with ten thousand times the radioactivity they hit Japan with in World War Two, destroying many millions in the long run. If we had taken out Saddam for them, they would have saved trillions of dollars and millions of lives. Yet, a lot of people would find our taking him our objectionable. If you find that objectionable, I don't know what to say." "I don't find that objectionable," said Phillip. "I thought we had lost around four thousand Americans." "When they're dying, but not dead," said Stanley, "they immediately ship them off to Germany or elsewhere. If they live until the plane gets off the ground in Iraq, they aren't counted as dying there and won't show up in the statistics," said Stanley. "It's just like anything else the government does. Phony. " "I know that," said Phillip, "but, I only know it from what you tell me. They don't teach you that in business school. Sometimes, the facts are there, between the lines, but they never come out and tell you the truth. I don't think there is a single class, from first grade to college graduation, in which you read the Constitution--maybe in law school. That alone is kind of strange. Understanding the world is like solving a mystery, but they don't even tell you there is a mystery to be solved. You get a lot of clues and have to figure it out for yourself." "Unless you have Ben Worthington to fill you in on the facts," said Stanley. "You are one lucky boy, Phillip. If I'd had a father like yours, the Worthingtons would be at the top of the financial pyramid in this world. We would have left the Rothschilds and Rockefellers standing with their mouths open, wondering what happened." "You did wonders, Dad," said Benjamin. "What you did is all the more incredible when I think that you had no computers to see trends and evaluate alternatives. Then too, as you have told me many times, you were a virtual outsider, in that you didn't go to Yale, so you weren't Skull and Bones, you weren't a Bilderberger until recently, and, for years, you weren't even in the CFR. I don't think anyone could have done better. The Rothschilds and Rockefellers had a huge head start on you, especially the Rothschilds. The Rothschilds control much of the world's currency. They and the Rockefellers have a big stake in the Federal Reserve, and all the other players have the same objectives. So they have all the advantages you could ask for. You did miraculously well. I don't think anything short of a crystal ball could have made it come out any better, under the circumstances." "Maybe so," said Stanley. "Maybe so." "You seem to have a sixth sense about economic matters," said Benjamin. "When you said, over two years ago, that real estate had to be peaking out and we needed to get out of it altogether, I thought you were unduly concerned. Just look what happened in real estate. Then last year, you said we should get out of the financial sector. 'A rolling stone gathers no moss,' you said." "That has always been true, and it's a good thing to remember," said Stanley. "I think maybe we should start rolling and sell this place and most of the real estate that we hung on to, put the money in something safe and wait for the collapse. Then we can move up to something better for a lot less money. What do you think, Ben?" "Very wise," said Benjamin. "The difficulty is in finding something that will hold its value or go up when the bottom falls out." "You're the financial genius," said Stanley. "I'm not a financial genie," said Benjamin. "There's a difference." ***
In The Florida Keys "We're getting close," said Frances. "I love the view from the Seven-Mile Bridge. I love the  whole drive from Key Largo, on down, but driving on top of the ocean like this is fantastic.""You're right about the trip," said Steven. "If we were driving the same distance, say up the Florida Turnpike, what a drag it would be. "I'm sure," said Alex. "Would you mind calling home and letting them know where we are. They may be waiting dinner for us." At Little Torch Key  "The whole family is here now, 'cepting Miss Genevieve," said Franklin, an elderly black man who had been waiting on the front steps of the Reynolds house when the car arrived. Franklin was the caretaker of the Reynolds' estate in the Keys. His full name was Franklin Wilson—he said his parents named him after Franklin Roosevelt. He had been with the Reynolds since long before Frances and Steven were born. He and his wife, Cleo, were part of the family. Even though he was getting on in years, Franklin said he was too young to retire, and they weren't about to insist.After long hugs from Frances and Steven, Franklin backed off. "My goodness. When are you two going to stop growing?" "Pretty soon, I hope," said Frances. "I don't think I'll get any taller, and I don't want to get any wider." The driver was taking the luggage out of the trunk. "Just set it inside the front door," Alex told him. "I'll take it up," said Franklin. "We'll take it, Franklin," said Steven. "Like you said, we're all grown up now." "You're still little Frances and little Steven to me," said Franklin. "You always will be." "What do you hear from Murray?" asked Alex. Murray was Franklin's son. Franklin and his wife, Cleo, had been in their mid forties when he was born, as an unexpected surprise. "He's in Iraq, you know," said Franklin, grimly. "I know," said Alex. "Cleo and I tried our best to talk him out of it, but you know how hard-headed some kids can be." "Tell me about it," said Alex. "Dad," said Frances. "The truth is that you two have been pretty good, most of the time," said Alex. "I tried to talk Murray out of it too," said Steven. "We communicated by e-mail. He was saying he wanted to join up. He seemed to think it was a way to get to where he wanted to go." "I know," said Franklin. "His mama cries a lot about it. We just hope he makes it home in one piece. We pray for him every day." "He'll be back," said Frances. "I just know he will." Murray had been a playmate for her and Steven, while they were growing up. When they were young, color had been meaningless to the three of them. In the last few years, however, Murray had distanced himself from them, bringing up the color difference now and then. When Alex had offered to send him to college, Murray had said he didn't want to go. As they walked in the front door, John Reynolds came into the foyer. He spread his arms and called out, "Here they are, my beautiful grandchildren. Come and give your grandfather a kiss. Both of you. In a few minutes, you'll be surrounded by family. Right now, for a few seconds, you're all mine. Come here." John Reynolds sat at the head of the huge dining table. He stood up, looked over his family, picked up his wine glass, raised it, and called out, "Here's to our wonderful family, God bless us, one and all. I'm sorry Ginny and Clark couldn't be here until next week, but bless them anyway." Ginny was Genevieve, John and Martha's forty-eight year old daughter, who, against their wishes, had married a fortune hunter named Clark Newcomb. Clark held a job at Reynolds Publishing, solely by virtue of his relationship to the family. Everyone stood and raised a glass, even those who were too young to drink held up their glasses filled with grape juice. Mealtime was a traditional get-together time for the Reynolds. It always had been. Theirs was a close family. Their joys, their sorrows, and much of the day-to-day in-betweens were shared. This had the effect of enhancing the joys, of which they had relatively many, and diminishing the sorrows, of which they had relatively few. Thanks to modern technology, even such a large enterprise as Reynolds Publishing could be managed from any place on earth, as long as a high-speed Internet connection was available. John was Chairman of the Board, and now devoted himself, almost entirely to The Vantage Point, his pride and joy. Alex was CEO and ran the rest of the business. He had trimmed the physical facilities and the staff to a minimum. He was considering farming out the printing and distribution, essentially eliminating the need for an office altogether. As long as he could communicate freely with his people and transmit the copy material to the printer, direct contact was proving unnecessary. He did get together with his people from time to time. But that was for employee relations and social motives. He would invite them, one or a few at a time, to Little Torch or one of the other Reynolds properties for a short time, combining work and pleasure. He was all business when discussing business, but he punctuated it with interludes of friendship and pleasure. That made it much less unpleasant, when there was an occasional difference of opinion, and he pulled his rank. During the meal, Alex mentioned having met Benjamin Worthington at the airport. "Frances sat next to his son Phillip, on the plane," he said. "They came off the plane together and were talking to me, when Ben came up to us." "Ben is it," asked John. "He was Ben a long time ago," said Alex. He told them about the summer on Cumberland Island. "He said that a bunch of boys were harassing him because of his limp," said Frances, "and Dad took up for him and told him he hadn't even noticed the limp until they started razzing him about it. Dad told him that his limp obviously wasn't important to people that knew him. He said that moment changed his life." "Humph," said John. "The Worthingtons are powerful people. They do have a lot of 'clean' businesses, but they're up to their eyeballs in clandestine operations for the CIA and other government agencies, as well as for private enterprise. They reputedly have their hands in drug smuggling, the arms trade, money laundering, assassinations, and overthrowing governments, to mention a few things. If the old man, Stanley, did half of the things that I suspect he did, he's about as evil as they come. Roger is a carbon copy of Stanley. Benjamin, he maintains a low profile. You don't hear much about him, except that he is said to be a financial genius. He may be that, or he may just get a lot of inside information through Stanley and Roger." "He had just come back from the Bahamas," said Alex. "He said he is putting together a consortium to develop a group of islands there. The Bock Cay Archipelago he called it. He invited me or us to join in. I told him I'd look into it." "Where is this Bock Cay Archipelago," asked Ruth, Alex's sister, four years younger than he. "I don't know, other than that it is in the Bahamas," said Alex. "I haven't had a chance to look it up." "He said it was in something called the Exumas chain," said Steven. "That's right," said Alex. "That’s pretty far south," said Ruth. "If it's not too far from Georgetown, it would be handy. There is an airport in Georgetown, on Grand Exuma." "Anything to do with an island," said Martha Reynolds, John's devoted wife and titular matriarch of the Reynolds clan. "Leave it to Alex." "I'm not the only one," said Alex. "Look where we are right now—on an island. I wasn't the one that put us here. Ben said he's the same way about islands. I think most people like islands." "You were always reading books about islands," said his mother, "from Treasure Island to the one about the Seychelles. What was that one? I read it myself." "It was 'Island Home,'" said Alex. "It was by Wendy Day, the daughter of Clarence Day of 'Cheaper by the Dozen' fame." "Was there really a Clarence Day?" asked John. "There surely was," said Alex. "I don't know how much of the story was true though. Actually, her name was Wendy Day Veevers-Carter. She and her husband set up a copra plantation on Remire Island in what is now called the Seychelles. He got some abscessed teeth and caught a boat to a big island where there was a dentist. But he died in the dentist chair. To make matters worse, he had taken their radio with him to get it repaired, so the authorities were unable to contact her to tell her he had died. It wasn't until the boat passed that way again that they got the word to her. She returned to England. I don't know what became of her after that." "It's amazing that you know that much," said Martha. "I recently got a copy of the book to re-read it," said Alex. "While I was looking on the Internet for a copy of the book, I came across that information about her. It makes reading the book quite different, when you know the fate that is waiting for them, only a bit over two years after they arrive in the Seychelles. It makes it a bittersweet read." "You must lend it to me," said his mother. "I'd like to read it again too." "If we get involved in a big development in the Bahamas," said Frances, "there is bound to be a need for some architecture of the kind I'm specializing in, hurricane resistant structures." "Don't get the cart before the horse," said Alex. "We aren't even close to getting involved with the Worthingtons at this point." "You are going to look into it, aren't you?" asked Frances. "Of course, I am. But don't get too excited about it. Besides, even if we don't get involved, you may still get involved professionally with them." "That's right," said John. "You were doing this paper on building for hurricanes. I remember that now. Working on a major project for the Worthingtons would be a feather in your cap—if you had a cap to put a feather in." "Besides, you might end up working with that friend of yours," said Steven. "What was his name? Phillip?" "He's not exactly a friend," said Frances. "I only met him this afternoon on the plane." "I think he has high hopes of seeing you again," said Steven. "Knock it off, Steven," said Alex. "Don't pester your sister." "Pester. That's a good word," said Steven. "It's not one you hear that much these days." "There are a lot of words that you don't hear much these days," said Frances. "The more syllables they have, the less often you hear them. Even the major newscasters use atrocious grammar. They are slowly switching to Black English. The Iraq government, instead of the Iraqi government. I expect them to start talking about the America flag instead of the American flag. One thing that really gets me is that no one seems to know whether to use 'me' or 'I' after a preposition." John Reynolds leaned back in his chair, grimly watching the exchange. Frances was the apple of his eye. The thought of her getting involved with some young Worthington boy was not to his liking, but he knew better than to say anything. If you want young people not to do something, he thought, your chance of success is better if you tell them to do it than if you tell them not to do it. To be continued  |
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