The General

By James Beeson

Chang had worked at the bottom of the laborer’ lot in Wusan, China for fifteen years. Then, good fortune came his way and he embraced it.
People seeking to intrude in to his life, jeopardized their own.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 23, 2020
• ISBN: 9781664144309

James Beeson

Dr. Beeson was born in 1926, the son of an Indiana farmer. He skipped the 12th. grade, was accepted in to the Navy College Training Program, and sent to Notre Dame University. He graduated from Indiana Medical School at 22. He is a board certified anesthesiologist who practiced his profession for 42 years in Jacksonville, FL. He was a caregiver for his beloved wife for six years. He married his late wife's best friend (widow). who was, is and ever will be beloved. He has five children, several stepchildren, grandchildren, step grandchildren, and a growing number of "greats" whom he loves with all his heart. He is chronically happy. How could he be otherwise?

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Copyright © 2020 by James Beeson.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 11/20/2020

Xlibris

844-714-8691

www.Xlibris.com

818464

CONTENTS

Synopsis

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter Forty-Eight

Chapter Forty-Nine

Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty-One

Chapter Fifty-Two

Chapter Fifty-Three

Chapter Fifty-Four

Chapter Fifty-Five

Chapter Fifty-Six

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Chapter Sixty

Chapter Sixty-One

Chapter Sixty-Two

Chapter Sixty-Three

Chapter Sixty-Four

Chapter Sixty-Five

Chapter Sixty-Six

Chapter Sixty- Seven

Chapter Sixty-Eight

Chapter Sixty-Nine

Chapter Seventy

Chapter Seventy-One

Chapter Seventy-Two

Chapter Seventy-Three

Chapter Seventy-Four

Chapter Seventy-Five

Chapter Seventy-Six

Chapter Seventy-Seven

Chapter Seventy-Eight

Chapter Seventy-Nine

Chapter Eighty

Chapter Eighty-One

Chapter Eighty-Two

Chapter Eighty-Three

Chapter Eighty-Four

Chapter Eighty-Five

Chapter Eighty-Six

Chapter Eighty-Eight

Chapter Eighty-Nine

Chapter Ninety

Chapter Ninety-One

Chapter Ninety-Two

Chapter Ninety-Three

Chapter Ninety-Four

Chapter Ninety-Five

Chapter Ninety-Six

Chapter Ninety-Seven

Chapter Ninety-Eight

Chapter Ninety-Nine

Chapter One Hundred

Chapter One Hundred One

Chapter One Hundred Two

Chapter One Hundred Three

Chapter One Hundred Four

Chapter One Hundred Five

Chapter One Hundred Six

Chapter One Hundred Seven

Chapter One Hundred Eight

Chapter One Hundred Nine

Chapter One Hundred Ten

Chapter One Hundred Eleven

Chapter One Hundred Twelve

Chapter One Hundred Thirteen

Chapter One Hundred Fourteen

Chapter One Hundred Fifteen

Chapter One Hundred Sixteen

Chapter One Hundred Seventeen

Chapter One Hundred Eighteen

Chapter One Hundred Nineteen

Chapter One Hundred Twenty

Chapter One Hundred Twenty-One

Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Two

Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Three

Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Four

Characters

To Becky, for all the love and encouragement she has given me.

I owe my life to her.

SYNOPSIS

Chang had worked at the bottom of the laborers’ lot in Wusan, China, for fifteen years. Then good fortune came his way, and he embraced it.

People seeking to intrude into his life jeopardized their own.

CHAPTER ONE

Wusan. A huge Chinese metropolis more populous than New York City. It has a large array of skyscrapers and downtown attractions. In the widening concentric circles of its social stratification, there are relatively huge pockets of abject poverty. The factories there contribute by the way of the large labor pool to the vast number of items exported worldwide, at prices undercutting any competitors. For this, the workers receive salaries that allow for small antiquated apartments and enough food to prevent starvation. Chang En Lai was one such entity.

He was the foreman of a small company that made whatever the owners ordered. Currently, it was face masks. The Coronavirus-19 infestation was raging worldwide, and Wusan was the epicenter. The government curtailed plane flights to other major Chinese cities but continued to allow flights to foreign destinations. The announced mortality rates were very high in Wusan, but as many as three times that number actually perished. Chang was nearing his fortieth birthday and had been told that only the old people died with the virus, so he would be exempt. Not one of his twenty workers had come down with the virus. He would not have given the problem a second thought were it not for the dumpster filled with dead bodies that he had to pass daily on his way to and from work. The putrescent smell emanating from the container permeated the air for blocks around.

The dumpsters had come into use because the number of fatalities had far exceeded the capacity of the crematoriums, and burial devices were overwhelmed. Every few days, a truck would show up with an empty dumpster, which they would deposit as they hauled away the one filled with the naked corpses. Everyone knew that the victims would be taken to some remote area where an awaiting earthmoving machine would be busy digging large holes to accommodate the loads.

Chang was strong, which was surprising, considering his almost exclusive diet of rice. He was also taller than nearly all his counterparts. His workers would often chide him about his ruggedly handsome face, which caused all the girls to chase him. It was all in good fun. He actually had lost his wife two years before in childbirth, along with the child. That put his ordinarily stoic countenance to a severe test.

In his two-room apartment, he had a stove that worked, which was more than most everything else around him. He shared a bathroom with the occupants of three contiguous apartments. What can’t be cured must be endured. Hot water? He’d almost forgotten what it felt like. There was a very old window air-conditioning unit in his apartment, which hadn’t worked in years. The apartment manager had told him that if he got a replacement, his rent would increase. That ended the conversation.

Chang’s salary as the foreman was twice that of his workers. Since he was a hand-to-mouth citizen, he marveled at their survival.

He dreaded the biannual visits of a governmental inspector. One was due in the following week. They always found fault and threatened to demote him. He had never killed a man, but he thought, if he chose to do so, he’d start with the inspector.

Their work time was six days a week and ten hours a day. Sundays were precious! It wasn’t what he did then. It was what he didn’t have to do.

Walking back to his apartment one Saturday, he saw a chicken on the uneven sidewalk. It wasn’t full-grown, and if a chicken could look bewildered, this one did. Chang rushed to her and picked her up before adjacent people could invite her to dinner. She rested comfortably in his arms and gave a few happy clucks to thank him.

He took her to his second-floor apartment and set her down on the floor. She immediately began going around the room as if she were inspecting what would become her new home.

Chang heated rice and gave her some as he ate his own. She didn’t hesitate. She pounced on the rice and devoured it. He put down a little more with the same results.

Where to put her at night? He thought he’d wait and see what she did. He went to the community bathroom, which was unoccupied, and had a brief cold-water shower. She was just inside the door when he returned.

He put on his antiquated pajamas and turned out the light in the other room. The chicken roamed around for a bit, then ensconced herself on the floor right by the head of his bed.

What to name her? How about Ching? Ching and Chang. Had a nice sound to it. They both slept well that night. Fatigue prompted him, and the avoidance of a cooking pot quieted her.

Morning. Where would she go to the bathroom? With a cloaca rather than a bladder, her stool would be mostly solid. He didn’t see any excrement anywhere. He put some old newspapers on the floor in the corner of the front room, picked her up, and placed her on them. She relieved herself promptly there. She would replicate this from then on.

He carried her with him when he went for a walk that afternoon. Her clucks suggested that she approved. When he settled down for a nap later on, she went to the exact location she had the night before and went to sleep.

What should we have for dinner tonight, Ching?

She clucked an ambiguous response.

How about some rice?

More clucks.

Rice it is!

The next morning, after another cold shower, he returned to find she had used her papers in the approved manner.

Would you like to see where I work?

She clucked as if in answer.

"I take that as a yes.

* * *

"Gentlemen, may I have your attention. I want you to meet my new assistant, Ms. Ching.

CHAPTER TWO

Four o’clock, Saturday. The inspector should have already been there. Four ten. He was.

He was short and thin. His little round face included lips that were too prominent, which accentuated his persistent scowl. Thick glasses. Pockmarks on his cheeks. Slicked-down hair.

You are Mr. Chang? It almost sounded like an accusation. I am Inspector Lin Wu. I’ll get right to the point. You have not met your mask quota for the last six months. What do you say to that?

I thought we had.

Well, you thought wrong. Masks are easy to make. Your sister shop up the street made their quota.

They do have new machines, and ours are very old.

Are you acquainted with the saying, ‘A poor workman blames his own tools’?

Yes.

Well then, we will give you this stern warning. If you can’t make your quota by the next inspection, we’ll just have to find someone who can. Do you understand?

Yes, sir.

And get that chicken out of here! They belong in pots, not workplaces.

Chang thought that might have been the last straw that caused his response to crystalize.

Mr. Wu, thank you for your supervision. I have a favor to ask of you.

Irritated, Mr. Wu asked, What?

I have this silver ceremonial knife, which my grandfather gave me long ago.

So?

I want to sell it, but I don’t know how to do such things.

Any student of facial responses could have easily seen Mr. Wu’s thoughts. Chang did.

I can take the knife, sell it, and keep the money, or I might just keep it, he thought.

All smiles. I could help you. Where is this knife?

At my apartment, which is only three blocks away.

Very well. I will look at it.

On their way, they had to go by the dumpster, which was polluting the air as usual.

What a horrible stench!

It’s those dead bodies over there.

Chang enjoyed it as Mr. Wu retched and almost vomited.

Just up one level.

As they entered the room, Chang let Ching down. She promptly went to her bathroom site and did her duty.

Mr. Wu gagged again.

Where is the knife?

I’ll get it right away.

Mr. Wu could see right away that the knife was silver-plated, not pure silver, but he didn’t have time to give his derisive response.

Ching suddenly leaped into the air and flapped her wings. That distracted him so that Chang had no trouble getting to his back and placing the razor-sharp knife against his neck.

CHAPTER THREE

The silver (plated) knife was indeed razor-sharp. With only moderate pressure, it transected Mr. Wu’s carotid arteries and his trachea.

Chang held him tightly from the back and marveled at the twin spouts of blood that came pulsating and pouring out on to the floor. With a transected trachea, screams were not possible.

The flailing of the arms and legs only lasted about two minutes. The body was then limp, with only a trickle of blood coming out of the neck.

As he eased the body to the floor, Ching began investigating the edibility of all that red stuff on the floor. With protein and fluid together, it was worthy, and she pecked away at the clotting mounds of blood.

Chang hadn’t considered the impact of five pints of blood on a rug. He’d tend to that later. Right now, he had to wait patiently for darkness. Placing the body in the dumpster would need to wait for the infrequent pedestrians to disappear.

He would need to take the man’s clothes off so that he would match the other occupants of the dumpster. He would put the clothes in ahead of the body. If he had a wallet, he didn’t need it anymore, so he fumbled with the bulging back pocket where it was located. He was stunned when he saw why it was bulging. It was completely full of large-denomination currency. As he was extracting the money, he figured there was more money there than he could earn in a lifetime. He was stunned again when he began to empty the other pant pockets. They were stuffed full of more money! He had several bags, the largest of which could hold the stash.

In the two hours remaining before dark, he could hardly think of anything but his newly acquired horde. After placing a few bills on his own wallet, he remanded the rest to his bedroom, beneath his pillow, for lack of better place. He fashioned a pitiful disguise for the trip and departed.

He was strong enough to carry the body, which by then was showing signs of rigor mortis. As he descended the steps, he encountered no one. Slowly opening the outside door, he peeked out and saw not a soul. He had two blocks to negotiate to