The Storm

Chapter Thirty-Three

Facing The Music

T he morning came, and as promised, I called Delores before she went to work. My next thoughts were about my meeting with Mr. Fessmyer. I turned my attention to the problem at hand of telling Mr. Fessmyer the truth about the compound, and Gunny, and how I met Gunny, but not all of the truth. I'd tell him, that Gunny was just another old boy like Henry, that survives the swamp and the storm and lives out his daily life like the rest of the Bayou people. It won’t make the front page, but at least it was something. I then headed to the chopping block to face the boss. The old familiar sounds of the chatter and the presses welcomed me back. There were the typical "Hellos" and cute remarks about my trip and my becoming “The Swamp Man.” It was all in good humor, with a few jealous types. But hey, we all have a few mully grubs in our professional and personal lives, don’t we? “Boss man looking for you, Zach,” one of the lead reporters shouted out, and I headed down the hall to Mr. Fessmyer’s office and knocked on the door. “Come in!” Mr. Fessmyer's voice vibrated through the frosted glass window. I opened the door to the gallows and stepped in to face my executioner. “Well hello, Zach, how are you? And welcome home. How was your trip, Son?” was Mr. Fessmyer's cheery response to my entrance. I felt guilty somewhat, that I would have to withhold

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