Date: Sun, 04 Jul 2004 23:37:19 +0800 From: Matthew McKendrie Subject: The Matthew J. Edison Chronicles: Prolog /Chapter 01/ Chapter 02 The Matthew J. Edison Chronicles by Matthew J. Eddison Prolog Bill Jackson sat at his desk rubbing the stress of the day from his eyes. Looking to the clock on his phone's display he noted it was two o'clock in the morning. Shaking his head he had to wonder why he had just spent twelve hours reading and re-reading the stack of contracts, bank records and internal memos spread over the desktop. He hadn't found anything out of place, no smoking gun, nothing amiss at all. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He had only been the CFO of Holcomb Omnitech for six months, having been wooed away from his previous employer by the title, and yes, by the mid-six figure salary. Too, the chance to work for Jefferson Holcomb was a dream come true. Holcomb had single handedly changed the way businesses integrate new technologies by providing a single point of purchase with customized hardware bundled with multi-vendor software tailored to meet the clients needs. In the fifteen years since starting the company out of his garage it had grown into a 2 billion dollar monolith - still closely held. If it ever went public, Jackson felt sure he would be well rewarded. That thought drove this all-nighter and all the other all-nighters he had and would pull scouring every document processed through the major accounts division. The difference this time was in his gut. It didn't feel right. First, he had never heard of Burgess Property Management. The only reference he could find to the company, a short blurb in a Chattanooga newspaper, played it off as a small company that ran no more than 200 rental units for poor and low-income families in rural East Tennessee. Yet here they were, signatories to a $30,000,000.00 contract for a multi-state intranet. Second, Burgess Principal was listed as Phillip T. Burgess III, a well-known football hero from Chattanooga's leading prep school who had only recently graduated from the University of Tennessee with a degree in Hospitality Management. A few phone calls to friends in Knoxville had shown the young man to have been much more interested being a bar patron than a bar owner and someone who had expressed frequent disdain for his grandfather's company in general and his grandfather in particular. Finally, the younger Burgess didn't work for Burgess Property Management. He had recently joined the Morgan Hospitality Group as a banquet manager for their 4-Star Hotel in Nashville. That little tid bit had been found in the local newspaper's new hire and promotions page. Jackson read over the assembled documents one more time. It had been an exhausting day and there was a breakfast meeting scheduled for 7 A.M. to be considered. With overstuffed briefcase in hand he headed down to the secured parking garage located beneath the Holcomb Tower. He fumbled with the keyless remote to unlock his brand new Jaguar XJ when he felt a bump to the back of his head a dropped the key ring. As he bent forward to retrieve the keys he felt himself falling. He briefly recognized a shadow behind and felt the second .22 caliber slug enter his skull. Bill Jackson, 42, good husband and father of two teenage boys lay dead in a growing pool of his own blood. 01 - The New World Matthew J. Edison, 21 and recent graduate of Ohio State University, felt himself falling and reached out for support. None being had, he hit the transmission hump in the back seat floorboard of the old Jeep Cherokee with a thud, pain shooting through his right side radiating in waves from his hip to his toes. Startled and disoriented he looked up and saw only blackness, then a flash of light then blackness. It took a moment to realize he was watching streetlights pass over the truck, and that he had fallen asleep somewhere along the drive from Cincinnati to Nashville. "Zach, where the fuck are we?" his question was directed at Zachary Mason, driver and best friend. "Just coming into Nashville, shithead - I thought you were going to keep me company," the edge in his voice showed the wear of driving five hours at night. "It was your idea to leave right after the party and you've been asleep since before we got out of Cincy'. "Sorry, Zach. I think all that parental attention must have taken it toll." It had been a party, both boys having graduated with honors the day before. Matt and Zach had driven from Columbus to Cincinnati early in the day to spend some time with their parents, shopping and getting ready for the trip to Vanderbilt University. Ezra and Miriam Mason had driven in with Matt's mother, leaving their small town comfort zone at the insistence of Jack Edison, lawyer, pompous ass and long distance father. "Your dad was in rare form - I guess there's something to said for divorce guilt, after all". "You know he's only like that when Mom and your folks are around. When we're alone or just you there he can be pretty cool. Besides, we have a fully charged Amex and just about everything Target has to offer for the trouble". "I know - but it drives me nuts watching my dad do metal calculations and raising his eyebrow every time your dad reaches for his wallet. CPA's don't go in for that kind of shit". The Jeep glided up the ramp, coming to a stop as Zach tried to remember which way to exit to get to their new digs. "Right, then two blocks down". "Three hundred miles asleep and now you want to navigate". The sun was beginning to rise and the street lamps started to turn off one after the other just as they passed underneath. Within minutes they were in the alley of their new home, looking at the small two-bedroom guest cottage found and promptly rented a month earlier when they had visited with Mr. Mason. At $700.00 a month it was a bit steep, but well within walking distance of both the Business School and the Law School where Zach and Matt were to spend the next three years. The ever-frugal Mr. Mason had negotiated all utilities - except for cable television and Internet access - as part of the deal. Too, he liked the fact that the Landlady lived in the main house just a dozen or so yards away. Mrs. Billings, a genteel lady of unknown age, was already at work on her roses. Oversized gloves, big floppy hat and kneepads that looked like they must have belonged to a long grown son's High School wrestling days simply added to the already eccentric impression both boys had taken away from their first meeting. "Good Morning boys," the southern charm dripped from every word. Struggling up Mrs. Billings walked over to the white picket fence that separated her yard from the cottage. "Ya'll must have driven all night to get here this early. Looks like you brought enough stuff to fill two houses". She eyed the extended U-Haul and packed jeep that now filled the small drive that served the cottage. "Good morning ma'am," Matt took the lead with the charm of a lawyer's son. "We left a little after one. I guess we're a bit anxious to get unpacked and explore the city". "Honey, ya'll just call me Miss B," pulling off one of the gloves she reached into the pocket of her smock and removed a ring with two keys, handing it to Matt. "Trash pickup is Wednesday morning and that big green thing is for recyclables only. Put garbage in there and the city'll leave it and I'll get a nasty note". She turned her attention back to the roses, close to three-dozen shrubs with nearly as many colors mixed up together. "Ya'll just let me know if you have any questions, power's on and the TV man will be here sometime between eight and noon to hook up that cable ya'll wanted". Between eight and noon. Both boys rolled their eyes at that. "Thanks Miss B." The unpacking took the better part of six hours, but in the end everything was in its place. Matt, an unmitigated slob had long ago resigned himself to the fact that his roommate was a neat freak. Too, at just over five foot six and 140 pounds soaking wet Matt hadn't challenged his best friend since the eighth grade when a growth spurt had taken Zach to five eleven. With four years of varsity wrestling and soccer training bringing him to a hair over 200 pounds it just wouldn't have been much of a challenge, anyway. The cable van showed up at 12:15 and the extra lines he had to run took close to an hour. When he was finished the boys had basic cable in both bedrooms, along with high speed Internet for their computers and a nice premium package hooked up to the new 32 inch TV in the living room - all a courtesy of Matt's Dad. Exhausted and finally finished, both collapsed on the sofa and popped open a beer. Zach preferred Rolling Rock, Matt - Sam Adams. They each held a can of Milwaukee's Best. Some things were not on the budget of unemployed graduate students. "We gotta find jobs, man," Zach really hated The Beast. "After the fourth one, it all tastes the same. Besides, we have time." Ever impractical, Matt wanted nothing to do with work. But he knew the hunt had to start soon. Watching TV till around eight, both boys were beat and hit the sack - deciding to put off explorations of their new home until the next day. Chapter 02 - And So It Begins The alarm in Matt's room was loud. Very loud. And it had been going off for twenty minutes when Zach entered and slapped the top in order to quiet the jarring siren. Looking at his sleeping roommate - not for the first time in their lives - he wondered how the boy had ever gotten to a single class. He sat down on the edge of the bed and began the morning ritual of waking the dead. "Matt", he gently shook the sleeping figure by the shoulder. It was not that he felt particularly gentle this morning, but his friend was not good at waking up. Any violent attempt to wake him, any rough shove or shouting of his name would almost invariably result in something akin to a panic attack that could last all morning. It had been that way since they were children; starting around the time Mr. Edison had packed his bags and left for his new life in Cincinnati. "Matt, we gotta get going - it's after eleven," Zach took his time and Matt slowly rolled over. He still woke with a slight jolt, but it passed quickly. "Sorry, man". He smiled weakly and realizing where they were silently cursed. He thought he had been getting better, but the move and all the excitement of being so far from home for the first time must have caused the old insecurities to reset. "Go ahead and get ready, I'll make some coffee". "Done and done bud," Zach moved over to the desk while Matt shook off the sleep. Handing him a steaming mug of gourmet coffee. Both had spent their college years slinging java for the largest national chain and so had a freezer full of the best coffees from around the world - low pay and a pound of coffee every week had made for some long all-nighters and a caffeine monkey neither could shake. "We can spend the day reconnoitering for some non-coffee jobs". Matt took a deep draw from the mug and felt the warm liquid explode with flavor and energy. "Sumatra - good choice. There's a 'buck's right across from the Law School. I could get a job there. Do you really want to give up the good stuff?" "We'll manage", Zach started to leave the room, stopped and turned back. "Matt, look, I promised my dad I'd find something that uses my degree - he expects me to sit for the CPA exam and start making it on my own. He's happy to pay for B-School, but its different now. I know your dad doesn't care until you graduate from law school, but mine does". "Don't fuck up my buzz", tossing a pillow towards Zach, Matt stretched and stood up. Clad only in tight white boxer briefs, his small but defined body looked like a miniature version of an underwear ad. His mop of dirty blond hair went every direction. "I had the same conversation with him. Hell, he's been more of a father to me than my own dad, so real world here we come". Within an hour they had turned in the U-Haul and found a great cheeseburger joint just up the street from their house. They were disappointed by the local newspaper's want ads. It looked like no one was hiring anything but waiters and truck drivers. Pouring a second beer from the one pitcher they agreed to share, it was about to seem like a wasted day when their waitress returned to clear the now cleaned plates. She was about forty and in the daylight streaming through the windows looked like the years had been kind - but the nights had definitely taken a toll. "You boys save room for some pie?" her smile was automatic but seemed genuine. " No thank-you, we'll just take the check, please" Zack was more than ready to get out of the dark bar. Matt, on the other hand, liked the cozy feel of the place and two beers in him were enough to write off the rest of the day. "What kind of pie?" Zack shot a look at his friend, but knew well enough that the afternoon was shot. He should have nixed the beer idea, but he was pretty tired and it wasn't as if they could go out job-hunting on a Friday afternoon, anyway. "Well, we have chess and we have pecan". Seeing some confusion on the boy's faces "One is sweet, the other is sweeter". "I'll have sweet and he'll have sweeter," Matt ordered without consultation. As the waitress retreated to the kitchen, he turned his attention to Zack and his sour face. "OK, we're not going to find anything in the paper, so I suggest we take my dad up on his offer to introduce us to some of his old classmates. What's the use of breaking our backs to maybe find something when he pretty much guaranteed a clerical spot with a big law firm?" Zack groaned at the idea of sitting in some small, cramped room filing for three years. "Hey, dumbass, it can't be any worse than the last six summers of my life being cooped up in your dad's office entering column after column of numbers in his client accounts. Besides, I've done your accounting thing, why can't you at least try the lawyer thing for a while?" "I know, and they probably won't give us much trouble over scheduling around our classes. We'll call him when we get home." That settled they dug into the freshly delivered pie. It didn't take Jack Edison long to secure both boys work with the firm of an old classmate. They would share one job typing motions and updating files for the Civil Litigation Team. Most of the work could be done from home, via a secure Internet interface, with both required to attend only one meeting a week for review and new assignments. They'd split a $400.00 salary and put in about twenty hours a week each. It was perfect, and even Mr. Mason was happy - temporarily - that his son had a real job, even if it didn't have any benefits. Besides, he'd reasoned, his son needed some experience with lawyers if he was to be of any help with the large base of tax clients Mason & Mason Accounting handled. Zack was the second Mason and neither had ever doubted his joining the firm. All Content the Property of owner and protected under law. This is a work of fiction and no person, living or dead, is represented herein. Comments Welcome: contact - my_group_e_mail@graffiti.net