The Shadow of the Rainbow

By C. V. Schweitzer

After visiting the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall with my wife in 1991 and being a student of history, I continue my interest online.
I was surprised to find that among the fifty-eight-thousand-plus Vietnam veterans memorialized on that cold black granite wall in Washington, D.C., somehow twelve names of people who were still alive were among them.
One day shortly after I retired, my wife, Ann, like many wives do, became annoyed at my being under her feet all day and suggested quite emphatically that I go find a hobby.
So I did, hence, The Shadow of the Rainbow.
Based loosely on historical facts, this is a fictitious story of a thirteenth persons name on the wall that woke up from coma one day to find he still had a chance to follow those dreams that had been so violently snatched from all the others.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 29, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483686295

C. V. Schweitzer

The author was born and raised on a farm south of Dodge City Kansas. As a child, he could frequently be found playing cowboys and Indians with Dennis Hopper in the Busleys Grocery Store parking lot on Saturdays. After traveling the world for 30 years as a member of the United States Air Force he is finally putting some of those experiences down on paper. His writings explore all corners of the human psyche, from the blackest of black to the whitest of white intertwined with a deep red adrenalin rush running through his characters. His passion against; injustice, stupidity and political correctness may be seen from time to time through his writings. He recently published “THUMBS”, a book of short stories involving the great adventure of Hitchhiking. He is currently working on a novel “SHADOW OF THE RAINBOW” born from the aftermath of the Viet Nam War that will be released early next year.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Mary sat; her eyes fixated on the scar the handcuffs had left on her right wrist. ‘What a rollercoaster ride my life has been’, she thought. The intercom buzzed. It was Karen, Mary’s personal assistant.

I just got a call from Mr. William’s office. They said he would be at least an hour late, something about the fog back there.

Mary let out a big sigh. OK, keep me posted.

Of all the times to be late, Mary thought as she glanced with pride at the picture of her son, Jay, on the upper right-hand corner of her desk. He was such a good boy. He was flying in from Mount Carmel Military Academy to celebrate his eighteenth birthday. For a surprise, she had booked them a five-day cruise to Mexico.

His actual birthday was the first of February. She could have gotten him released then, but he insisted that they wait until a scheduled break. After all, he said, how would it look if I left my command just to celebrate my birthday?

Ever since she lifted Jay up to touch his father’s name embedded in that cold black granite wall in Washington, being an army officer like his father had become an obsession. It was all he dreamed about. Mary smiled; his father would have certainly been proud, she thought.

Jay spent all his spare time reading about West Point. His favorite and most inspiring find was the closing of General MacArthur’s farewell speech to the cadets: My last conscious thought will be of the Corps, and the Corps, and the Corps.

He asked her once if she thought that was what his daddy was thinking when he died. She lied that day. Well, maybe, but I’m sure he was thinking of us too.

Mary remembered how hard it was to convince Jay to take this trip. His appointment confirmation letter from West Point was due any day, and he wanted to be there when it came. But the hardest thing for both of them to face was the thought of it being their first trip without Charlie.

Mary had become totally oblivious of the corporate attorney Tom Billings who had been sitting quietly at the opposite end of her desk until he cleared his throat.

Ahum, hum… Mrs. Zzon, is there anything in the contract you would like to go over?

Shaking her head, Mary replied, No, I don’t think so. It’s pretty much a standard deal except for that clause about keeping the mill open and as many of the original workers on as possible.

Mary picked up her coffee cup and took a long sip.

The young lawyer nodded his head in agreement. I wouldn’t worry about that. Once you own it, you can do what you want.

When the lawyer detected the, that’s-not-my-way-of-doing-business look on Mary’s face, he quickly changed the subject. This will be the first for me.

In puzzlement, Mary asked, What do you mean?

I’ve never seen let alone dealt with a black CEO before, the lawyer explained.

Come to think of it, neither have I.

I hear he used to be a hospital orderly.

Mary nodded her head. Well, this is America.

Yes, he’s lived the great American dream. Too bad it’s over.

Maybe we can find him something with our company, Mary replied as she took another sip from her cup.

The lawyer nodded his head. If you like, I’ll go make some phone calls.

Her mouth half full, Mary gave him an um, um and simultaneously nodded her head, making a sweeping motion with the back of her left hand toward the door.

Mary’s eyes followed the lawyer until the door clicked softly behind him.

Tracing his departure route with her eyes back to her desk, the first thing they fixated on was the photograph of her late husband Charlie. What a sweet and gentle man. She still found it hard to believe he was gone.

He was only forty-four and on top of the world. The doctor said he had a time bomb ticking inside him.

Mary bit her lip. Damn him, she thought, if he’d only told me, maybe he’d still be here.

She let out a big sigh as she slipped into her chair and closed her eyes. The last five years had been like a dream. The newspapers had a field day especially those weekly tabloids: Queen Mary of Zzon and Gold-Digging Mary.

*     *     *

Charles Zzon was one of the most eligible bachelors on the west coast. He was the only son of a widowed immigrant, a scholar at Harvard, a legend in the banking world, and the president of Zzontrex at thirty.

Mary didn’t care what the gossipmongers said. Charlie had been the only man to make her feel like a woman again. It had taken a long time for her to get over the death of Jay’s father. When she finally did, one by one, they fell under Jay’s interviewing scrutiny. Some of them actually passed, and one Jay still considered his adopted uncle Philip. But for Mary, there had been no zing, not until Charlie.

A smile illuminated Mary’s face. Actual events that happened sometimes are harder to believe than anything a fiction writer can dream up. The way she met Charlie fell right into that category.

She had just moved to San Francisco. It was the second day on her new job as an executive assistant in a large advertising firm. Her boss, Mr. Baker, called about 9:15 a.m. from his car phone and told her he was going to be late. The rain had caused several accidents on the bay bridge that day. He instructed Mary to take the new ad layouts to the Zzontrex building, and he would meet her there.

Even though the Zzontrex building was only a few blocks down the street from their office, running to and getting in and out of the taxi proved to be a disaster to both her hair and her dress. She was however able to get the presentation up to the twenty-first floor in nearly a bone-dried condition.

Mary rationalized her appearance as her first test of loyalty and grit. At the same time, she also vowed never to get caught out in San Francisco without an umbrella or a raincoat. She hadn’t seen it rain that hard since Vietnam.

After checking with the secretary she now knew as Karen, Mary hid herself in the farthest corner of the outer office.

As she sat anxiously waiting for Mr. Baker’s arrival, she watched the clock slowly move closer and closer to ten. Her fixation was suddenly broken by the secretary. Miss, it’s Mr. Baker, the secretary said, holding up the phone and giving it a little wiggle in Mary’s direction. He wants to speak to you.

He was instructing Mary to try and get a later appointment when the interoffice door burst open, and Mary found herself face-to-face with the famous Charles Zzon.

Where are those ad people, Karen? he asked.

She pointed at Mary, who was still on the phone trying to explain the situation.

Puzzled, he asked, Only one.

Karen shrugged her shoulders.

OK, come on, Ms… .

Mary, Mary Adkins.

Well, Mary, come on, let’s see what you got. He pointed at the open door to his office. Times money, you know.

As Mary retrieved the presentation folder, she understood why all the girls at the office were making such a fuss when they heard she was going to meet the great Charles Zzon.

Oh, he is handsome enough, all right, but such arrogance. I’ll bet he’s a self-centered bastard, she thought as he continued pressing her to start the presentation.

Finally, when she realized he wouldn’t wait for Mr. Baker, Mary started to tap-dance her way through the presentation as best as she could.

Thank God, she thought as she neared the end, at least Mr. Baker hadn’t made any major changes since they ran through it yesterday.

The unnerving part of it was every time she looked directly at him, his composure never changed. He just sat there, both elbows planted in the center of his desk, his chin resting neatly on the protruding thumbs of interlocked hands. A smirky little grin was his only facial expression. And the only comment he ever made was Next.

Mary couldn’t make out if it was the presentation or her drowned-rat appearance that he found so amusing. All Mary knew was when he said, Thank you, I’ll let you know. She couldn’t get out if there fast enough.

With tongue in cheek and the feeling of fat chance firmly entrenched in her mind, Mary left the presentation with his secretary just in case he might want to look at it again?

When Mary hit the street, she looked up into a cloudless sky. Hmmm. Now it stops, she thought, stamping her foot and clenching her hands in frustration.

The need to reduce her stress level prompted her to walk the five blocks back to her office. A pale blue dress caught her eye as she passed a small boutique. Impulsively, she went back and bought it. What the hell! She thought as she put it on. It can’t possibly hurt. And I sure as hell need to get something positive out of today. When I get back to the office, I’ll probably get fired anyway.

Mary didn’t feel much like eating, so she grabbed a hot dog and a Diet Coke from a pushcart vendor in front of her office building. She had just popped the last of the hot dog in her mouth when the elevator door opened.

Not one or two, but every desk she passed, the message echoed, Mr. Baker wants to see you. Mr. Baker wants to see you.

The closer Mary got to his office, the faster she walked. At this point, she just wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. I’ve never been fired after only two days on the job, but there is a first time for everything, she mumbled to herself.

The only person who didn’t say anything was Pat, Mr. Baker’s personal secretary. With the phone in one hand and a pencil in the other taking a message, she just nodded her head in the direction of his office door.

The quick rap on the door was followed by Come in!

Mary quickly slipped through the door and blurted, Mr. Baker, I’m sorry I let you down, and I take full respon—

Hey, hey, wait just a minute, he cut her off in midsentence. You’ve got it all wrong. It’s me. I’m the one who should be apologizing.

Gesturing with his hand, he continued, Please, please sit down. Go on, have a seat.

Mary slowly settled down into the leather high-back chair that faced directly across the desk from her boss.

Peering over his glasses, he continued, That’s better. Then he paused to compose his thoughts. Now then, this whole botched-up deal is totally my fault. I never should have put you in that position. I knew it was too late to do anything when I heard his voice break into our phone conversation.

Shaking his head, he continued, He has a reputation of being a very forceful and demanding person.

Mr. Baker smiled. But I guess you figured that out already.

Mary mustered a small little grin and nodded.

I stopped by the Zzontrex office as soon as I got off the bridge to apologize, but you were already gone.

Mr. Baker got up from his chair, came around the desk, and took Mary by the hand. I’m very sorry I put you through that. I’ve heard he can be brutal. Pulling Mary up by her hand, he led her to the door and concluded, When you’re dealing with a high roller like Charles Zzon, you got to play it by ear.

After opening the door, he gave Mary’s hand a final squeeze, smiled, then winked. Now get back to work.

In one last attempt to relax her, he leaned out the door. Oh, by the way, I like your dress. Is it new?

Mary smiled and nodded, then a big grin erupted. Men, they’re all the same, she thought as she closed the door to her office behind her.

Mary spent the rest of the day trying to forget that morning. She was going over an oil company project and clock watching at the same time in anticipation of ending one of her worst days in recent memory. It was exactly 4:22 p.m. when Mr. Baker’s voice on the intercom jerked her brain back to reality. Mary, would you please come to my office?

As Mary approached she could see him through the giant glass wall that fronted his office. He was smiling and waving his left arm about as he talked to someone on the phone.

It is probably his wife with some last-minute, on-your-way-home request, Mary thought as she stepped through his office door.

He finished his phone conversation with Nine o’clock tomorrow, yes, sir then placed it in its cradle. Sit down. He pointed at the chair. You must have made a hell of an impression on Charles Zzon.

I did! Mary looked back in puzzlement, her mouth half open.

Yes, apparently you did.

He liked the presentation?

Oh, no… no, strangest thing is he never once asked a thing about that. But he did ask a lot about you.

He did!?

Yes, and he wanted to see you in his office tomorrow, 9:00 a.m. sharp.

Mary curled her wrist and her index finger until she was pointing at herself. Me?

Mr. Baker smiled and nodded.

Mary swallowed hard. Yes, sir, nine o’clock, but I don’t understand.

James Baker, palms turned up and arms outstretched, gave her a don’t-ask-me look.

As Mary was about to step through the doorway, he added, Maybe you should start calling me James.

CHAPTER 2

Once Mary melted that cold, hard business façade that Charlie had hidden behind, she found a thirty-eight-year-old workaholic who never experienced boyhood. Charlie was the only son of immigrant parents from Serbia. At the age of twelve, he began working as a delivery boy after school and on weekends to help support his family. When his father died a year later, he found himself the sole supporter of his sickly mother.

To this day, how he worked two and sometimes three jobs and still found time to study was mind-boggling to Mary.

It took some time before Charlie could force himself to let go and have a good time without feeling guilty. But when he finally did, some of the people he had been associated with thought he had gone completely mad.

His actions certainly drove his secretary, Karen, in that direction. He had her canceling and rescheduling meeting. Sometimes he’d cancel the whole day. One time, he canceled a whole week. It was Disneyland, white water rafting, but his favorite of all was skiing.

Mary hesitated the first time Charlie asked her to marry him, not because she didn’t love him, but Jay was away at school during their whirlwind courtship, and her worst fear was that they wouldn’t hit it off. She needn’t have worried about that. They soon became inseparable. If Charlie couldn’t drag her off to see some game or to try some new sport, he could always find a willing participant in Jay.

When they flew to Reno on July 4 to get married, Jay was the best man.

Charlie had longed for the unity and love of a family he had lost when his parents died. He told Mary one of his biggest regrets was never having any brothers and sisters.

Even though Charlie grew to love Jay as much as any man could love a son, he knew Jay wanted to carry on his father’s name, and he respected him for that.

Mary had to laugh when they discussed children. Charlie professed he wanted at least a dozen. He found an ally in Jay; he was all in favor of having a new brother or sister. Unfortunately, that never happened.

Charlie was willing to try anything and everything. Mary had him running every five minutes when they tried the temperature bit as Charlie called it, but all their attempts ended in failure. The doctors said she was fine. It was Charlie; he had a low sperm count.

They had made an appointment to see a specialist about the possibility of test-tube fertilization on the Tuesday following the Thanksgiving holidays.

Charlie had booked a cabin at Lake Tahoe for the whole of Jay’s Thanksgiving break. Mary wasn’t much of a skier, but if there was one thing that Charlie and Jay loved more than anything, it was skiing. In fact, Charlie had their schedule booked so tight Jay never made it to the house in San Francisco.