Micah Jamison Didn’T Do It

By Xlibris US

Micah Jamison Didnt Do It is the story of a man who is driven by frustration to threaten used-car salesman Joe Sanders. Jamison, after losing a suit in court to obtain relief over a car deal gone sour, decides to try to scare the car salesman into either refunding his money or paying for the repairs. As luck would have it, fate breaks in at a critical point in the execution of his plan and despoils Micahs intentions. The result is that through a most perverse alignment of circumstances, Sanders is killed. But that is only where the story begins.

Imagine yourself in Micah Jamisons placedesperate, frustrated, and at the end of your rope, you adopt a risky plan. But in the midst of execution, the plan itself is wrecked by an unusually severe thunderstorm.

Most of us have been on the short end of the stick a least once in our lives. Maybe we have even contemplated drastic measures to coerce someone into compliance with an outcome more satisfactory toward ourselves. We intend no real harm. Mostly, we are just trying to demonstrate our soul-felt unhappiness with the whole affair.

But the unthinkable does happen. We cannot back up in time. What is cannot be undone. All the old courses of action are closed off to us. In short, there is a new reality with which we have to deal. What are we to do?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 12, 2014
• ISBN: 9781503524316

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

MEMORIAL DAY, MONDAY, MAY 31, 2010

J UST PARK THE car! I can walk that far. Besides, it looks as though those clouds won’t hold off much longer, and we need to get going.

O hush, Joe, Marie retorted with a twinge of impatience as she toured the parking lot looking for a place closer to the doors labeled PHARMACY/GROCERIES. There are a few things I need to get too. Besides, what’s the big rush? You’re not going to miss anything. They don’t present the colors until one o’clock. And all your old motorcycle buddies will save us a good spot.

Joe and Marie Sanders were about average in everything: upper-middle class suburbanites with car payments, mortgage, too much credit card debt, and three kids—two teenagers and an almost thirteen. They managed well enough on their two paychecks but were anxious to greet their ship when it came in. And Joe’s always optimistic appraisal that their ship was due to dock any day now was contagious and buoyed them all up when things seemed to go against them. Joe just didn’t seem to let the proverbial bad turns of luck bother him too much. For Joe Sanders, bad luck was no more than a temporary nuisance to be dealt with and forgotten.

Marie, on the other hand, was the calculating philosophy major who was a bit skeptical of Joe’s predictive powers of better days ahead but went along with his usually beatific vision. It was good, she would say, for family relations and morale.

Joe was the enthusiastic, cheerful, and confident one, while Marie was the steady one. She could always be counted on to figure out the strategy and logistics. Joe, on the other hand, was always thinking ahead, planning their next step. If something went wrong, he simply and immediately began working his way out or around the problem as the occasion might dictate. He never wasted time trying to analyze the past seeking to find out the fault. Indecision was, according to Joe, the greatest enemy of the public welfare of humankind. If it didn’t work, you just simply and immediately started again. Marie, on the other hand, fretted about matters but remained steady in her resolve. Marie and Joe were the perfect match when it came to business.

Sanders Motors was perhaps a little bit above average as compared to most of the other pre-owned vehicle dealers in Texarkana. Joe dealt mostly with higher-end models. In that, he had no illusions about where the money was. Higher-end models attracted more clientele and sold far more easily than mid-range models. He also had a hard and fast rule for the cars he held on his lot. Anything he didn’t move in sixty days, Joe either swapped off with another dealer or sold at auction. Joe would say, You can’t spend anything sitting on the lot.

And unlike many car dealers, Joe wasn’t in love with any car. Being in love with cars was, Joe would say, for fools with lots of warehouses and even more money. What Joe was in love with was the business of trading cars. He had been trading and selling cars most of his life. He enjoyed talking about cars and swapping horror stories about all the lemons he had come across over the years. There was adventure and discovery in trading cars. In fact, Joe preferred the term used as opposed to pre-owned. But he was also a good-enough businessman to know that the now archaic moniker used car carried far too much baggage to be overlooked.

Three salesmen, a mechanic, and two office girls all shared what everyone still referred to as the new building. Actually, the new building was now eight years old. The decision to build was difficult and, for the first three years, looked very much like a mistake. But Joe, bolstered up by a very steady Marie, hung on; and in year four, they turned the proverbial corner. Now there was talk of purchasing the adjoining four acres for yet another expansion that included a four-bay garage for repairs and detailing.

The kids—Jason, Anna, and Kit—all seemed well adjusted. Of course, there was the usual sibling rivalry but nothing too serious. Jason shared his father’s interest in cars and was gaining quite a reputation as a wily but honest trader himself. He was planning to join his father in the family business after college, and that too weighed heavily on Marie. Jason would be a senior next fall, and while they had managed a modest college fund for the kids, they were resigned to taking on more debt before they could get all three children through even a state university.

Memorial Day was a special affair for the Sanders family. Although Joe had never served in the military himself, he felt that those who did deserved special recognition. His father had been seriously wounded in Vietnam in 1970, and Joe always admired him for his service and the way he conducted himself in civilian life. Joe kept his father’s Purple Heart medal and license plate prominently displayed on a small book stand as a reminder to himself and others that although life could be hard at times, brave men and women had fought and died for the lives of folks they didn’t even know. So every year, without fail, Joe, Marie, Jason, Anna, and Kit took part in the parades and ceremonies that accompanied Memorial Day.

This year, they were going to the community memorial services at Spring Lake Park. There would be speeches, a concert with patriotic music, and a color guard from the American Legion. There would also be a display from the Red River Army Depot (RRAD), a car show, and a motorcycle troop from a Vietnam Veterans group. And of course, there would also be a lot of picnickers, of which Joe and his family would be a part. They only had to make a short last-minute stop by a local TradeWinds SuperStore to pick up some napkins, paper plates, and plastic eating utensils to take with them. Marie had decided to pick up a bucket of fried chicken for their lunch in the park.

Of course, the parking lot at TradeWinds was nearly full. There were a number of spaces still available but at some distance from the entrances. Now there was one thing that seemed to drive Joe to a state of utter frustration—Marie’s habit of jockeying for a parking space as close as possible to the entrance of almost any store you could name. According to Joe, Marie wasted more time parking the car than she did shopping. Worse, he would say, Marie spends more money buying gas in her looking for an acceptable parking place than she spends in the store when she finally gets inside.

Joe thought it much better to be walking a bit in lieu of spending time in the car searching for the right spot. He preferred to be doing something, walking for example, that would at least have the semblance of getting the job done. Cruising through crowded parking lots was not his idea of getting anything done. But since Marie seemed to do most of the driving, except when they were out of town on long trips, Joe mostly just gritted his teeth and bit off his colorful word pictures before they escaped his mouth. But this was Memorial Day, and Joe was anxious to get to the park.

For heaven’s sake, Marie, just park the car. Or better yet, just let me off, and I’ll run in and get everything and be back out in a few minutes. He knew a few minutes was a stretch even on a slow day, but hope springs eternal. And if it got him closer to getting in and out without too much fuss, he was willing to risk it.

But Marie would have none of that. For heaven’s sake, Joe, she intoned in a mocking manner. I have a few things to get too, you know.

Finally, Marie steered the Toyota Highlander into a spot that had just opened up. Joe breathed a sigh of relief and almost sprang from the car as he called over his shoulder, I’ll be right out.

Wait a minute, dear, we’re coming too, hollered Marie as all three remaining doors sprang open, delivering Jason, Anna, Kit, and Marie on to the pavement. Joe shrugged and checked his pace to let the other the others catch up.

Better hurry, dear. It’s beginning to rain, called Marie over her shoulder as she picked up the pace, seeking the refuge of the giant TradeWinds store.

By the time they were all inside the store, the rain was coming down hard and picking up force. It was evident that those who had already finished their shopping were queuing up to leave and in no hurry to get a drenching and so were staying within the confines of the giant super store. It was also obvious that those who were just arriving were more likely escaping the rain than satisfying any urgency to get their shopping done. And of course, there were those who were content to wait out the rain in the relative safety and comfort of their cars.

The shelter afforded by the store was comforting, but the number of folks jamming the entryway was fast becoming a serious navigational problem. Adding to discomfort of those just arriving were those others who, once inside the store, stopped short to shake the rain from their coats and umbrellas. They stamped their feet and chattered loudly about the drenching rain. The entire area around the entryway was fast becoming terribly uncomfortable, even challenging the most patient of shoppers.

Somehow, Joe, Marie, and the kids managed to worm their way through the second set of doors and into the store proper. But at the rate that the store was filling up, just finding your way to the merchandise you desired was becoming a problem.

Still, the ever-optimistic Joe managed to snare a shopping cart and advised the others to stay together to make for an efficient checkout in minimal time. Of course, hearing the force of the rain pounding on the roof offered little encouragement or incentive to leave the safety of the store. Besides, this was a TradeWinds SuperStore. There was more than enough stuff packed within these walls to keep almost anyone busy for hours. And so everyone had their own idea of where they were headed