CORK DANCER

By Michael George Bailey

Experience the drama that unfolds from a single fateful moment of decision. This is the story of what follows from that decision - the protagonist pushes himself to and beyond his limits. Les Savage, 38, started out as one of the golden boys of his generation. Somehow he wasn't able to parlay his Olympic achievement into something more sustaining. Then suddenly his fortune changed. On impulse, he agrees to go to Africa and compete on behalf of a safari club. His Golden moment has arrived. This is the account of what happened when he met his toughest adversary. Often it is when we feel most sure of our situation, when life is most dependable, we let our guard down.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Sep 29, 2023
• ISBN: 9781665750691

Michael George Bailey

Mike grew up in south Florida. Received his Bachelor of Arts in Literature from the University of North Florida. He has sailed extensively. These days he resides in Merritt Island, Florida.

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CORK DANCER

MICHAEL GEORGE BAILEY

Copyright © 2023 MICHAEL GEORGE BAILEY.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Archway Publishing

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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.

ISBN: 978-1-6657-5070-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6657-5068-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6657-5069-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023918570

Archway Publishing rev. date: 10/19/2023

CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

It’s extraordinary how we go through life with eyes half shut, with dull ears, with dormant thoughts. Perhaps it’s just as well; and it may be that it is this very dullness that makes life to the incalculable majority so supportable and so welcome.

—Joseph Conrad, Lord Jim

CHAPTER 1

Les Savage was reading the newspaper in the cockpit of his sailboat two months ago and came across an article that startled him. The headline read, New Top Dog, Terry O’Reilly. The president of the United States had appointed his boss the new director of the Fish and Wildlife Service, an agency of the federal government within the Department of the Interior. The article went on to say, The president wants Mr. O’Reilly to attack wildlife crimes and shred the current tactics being employed by the poorly regulated wildlife trade.

Toward the end, the article said, Terry O’Reilly was a vicious rugby player in his youth. That statement reminded Les that he had once seen Terry open a beer bottle with his teeth. It wasn’t that Les felt Terry was undeserving of the Top Dog position. It was that, for the first time, Les felt pigeonholed.

The Florida Wildlife Department had plenty of employees with strong work ethics. His was not what set Les apart; his stellar record of positive results was what separated him from the pack. However, he’d be the first to tell you he made no effort to market himself. He wasn’t the sort of man to laugh at his own jokes, and it didn’t take long for people to figure out he had an attitude. His scarred and chiseled facial features pointed to it. His attitude wasn’t so much a bad attitude as an abrupt one. There was no silly bone in his body. Terry O’Reilly once told him, Les, your no-nonsense approach works perfect when setting up a sting. That’s something that can’t be taught.

Les knew firsthand that the criminal element in the animal and animal parts trade continued to be evasive and persistent. Standing up for wildlife, and protecting natural habitats and the creatures that lived there, was what he loved to do. He was proud to say his neighbors were dolphins, sharks, manta rays, and turtles. But after reading that article about his old boss, Les took a deep breath and hoped for the day he, too, could be part of something bigger.

The marina’s water taxi, a twenty-two-foot center console with twin outboards, made a special trip out to mooring ball 44 so the driver of the taxi, Christian, could hand-deliver a brown package the size of a legal pad marked, LES SAVAGE. MOORING 44. DINNER KEY MARINA. RUSH. OVERNIGHT. Christian didn’t bother calling on the radio first because through binoculars from his perch in the harbormaster’s office, he had seen Les’s dinghy Baby Bird tied to his stern.

Christian brought the taxi off its plane about twenty yards short of mooring 44 and pulled back both engines. He nestled up to Yellowbird’s starboard beam, as soft as a prairie butterfly, and called out, "Captain, you below decks? Got a package marked rush for ya."

Les stepped up into the cockpit from below decks. Yer the man, Christian. Owe you one. They made the exchange, and seconds later, the center console throttled up and whined back down the mooring field.

Returning with the package to his seat in the salon, Les opened it. A handwritten note from Terry O’Reilly was wrapped around a cell phone. Terry instructed him to type his password into the enclosed phone. After Les did that, an image of Terry populated the screen. He addressed Les on the recorded video while seated in an office with a portrait of a roaring lion behind him.

Hello, Les. Hope this message finds you in good spirits. I now have eight thousand employees in the field. Why am I still looking to you for help? Two reasons: One, I need to impress my boss. And two, your ability with a bow makes you the ideal person for what I need done. What you’ll see on this video took place recently at a ranch near Houston. You’ll be given a little tour of the hunting club’s annual party. Pay particular attention to the end, where the club president mentions a bow-shooting contest. The video was produced by one of our undercover agents out of the Texas field office. The video will only play once. Toss the biodegradable phone off your bow when done. And Les, be sure no neighbor out there sees you toss it. I’ll call you sometime tomorrow. That was Terry. He had to get in a jab.

Immediately following Terry’s intro, a female agent began to narrate while the phone displayed an image of a buffalo grazing in a corral. She spoke very softly, almost in a whisper.

What looks to be a healthy bison grazing in a Texas corral is about to be shot dead by Don Weiss, the Texas deputy secretary for fish and wildlife, with more than a hundred people watching. Nobody looks to be troubled by the impending kill. It’s hard to believe. I’m here to record it. It will get reported. Grotesque, beyond cruel, it’s pathetic, and apparently done purely for entertainment purposes at the Houston Safari Club’s annual party, according to its president. I was able to sneak onto the grounds, whereas most other people attending this party are members of the HSC. It is a private hunting club outside of Houston, Texas.

I will say, several people standing around me uttered something to the effect that it didn’t seem fair to shoot the bison. They even mentioned the bison looked so beautiful. But they concluded it must be okay since the guy that was going to shoot it is the deputy of wildlife in Texas. When asked if they knew the shooter, some said they recognized Mr. Weiss from his long career on the rodeo circuit but didn’t really know much about how he sees things. Apathy seems to be the prevailing attitude around here.

The female narrator continued speaking softly.

That very same deputy has been giving keynote speeches this past year at civic luncheons, colleges, and seminars around Texas. A clip of him roping and riding, accompanied by a blaring soundtrack, gets projected on a big screen before every speech he gives. The deputy arrived earlier today to set up. He has a little stand for his brochures. He’s running for Congress. He explains his career path in here.

The woman filming held up one of the brochures. She began reading from it.

After twenty years getting bucked, slammed, thrown, and stomped by pissed-off broncos and steers, my body demanded I move on from the Greatest Show on Dirt.

She closed the brochure and continued her narration.

He got the Texas deputy of wildlife assignment almost two years ago—says he enjoys the work but wants to do more for all Texans. What about more for wildlife?

Here you see the lanky deputy, Don Weiss, positioning himself to greet the largest number of members on their way toward a big tent and barbeque pits over there. These railroad ties formed a path that led from the parking area to the correct egress. Everybody had to funnel past here. He placatingly offered handshakes, shared bellowed laughter, and occasionally slapped members’ backs. The stream of new arrivals began to ebb. Mr. Weiss walked away.

I am filming live now. Weiss has returned from retrieving a rifle from his state-issued pickup. Sporting a noticeable claudication, he’s heading toward the main corral. You see lots of people gathered there, shoulder to shoulder. [As the crowd becomes louder, the woman speaks louder.] The prattle is growing like when a prizefighter makes his way toward the ring. He sets foot in the corral. As you can see, the bison is paying no attention to him. He pumps the rifle above his head as though he were back in a rodeo. [Sounds of cheering are heard.] He’s wearing a smirk. If I bring the focus in close, now you can see the thick lateral walls of the bison’s nostrils expand and contract. Weiss looks through the scope … shoots.

The shot hits the bison in the head. We all watch the animal drop awkwardly in a heap. The grazing semi-domesticated bison, whose proud image graces the seal of the U.S. Interior Department, just got shot dead by the Texas deputy of wildlife. Nothing could be more appalling and reprehensible. Some standing around actually started clapping and whistling.

I’m going to continue filming and narrating at this function a little longer in order to get a feel for what else we might learn about these people and their agenda. There could be more surprises.

Attendees loiter around several open bars in and outside this huge tent. Multiple barbecue pits are sending up aromatic plumes from sizzling steaks. Most people are wearing jeans, boots, and lots of cowboy hats, of course. Directly below the sway of Old Glory on the flagpole near the entrance of the tent is the HSC flag, its unabashed motto well displayed: Seek the wild. And then what? Kill it? How can this deputy of wildlife gun down this beloved endangered creature in front of all these American adults and then sit down and enjoy a meal?

It doesn’t seem to have curbed anyone’s appetite. The club members are mingling, and some are sitting to dine on linen-covered picnic tables as the band begins to parrot another Waylon song. [Music is playing.] Caterers continue bringing in enough food to feed a small army. Some patrons sit at little octagon tables with battery-operated candles lit in glass globes.

The cigar-chomping Houston Safari Club president stands up at the head table and looks to be about to address the group. According to some attendees I spoke with, he’s widely known for his garish office and bombastic monologues. He just crushed out his cigar and began tapping on a microphone, now signaling the band to stop and allow him a