Basement Bar (Blogophilia 12.10)

I have a number of characters that I have developed over the years. Kari Summers, Jerry Goldstein, Jeremy Allen: they all represent a piece of my personality. I’m going to pull one out of the vault I haven’t worked with in about 30 years: C. Hartridge Heath IV, Esq., Attorney to the Rich and Useless.

 

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“Glad to meet you on this beautiful Atlanta day. But you can’t tell it in this dank drunk tank. The name is Hartridge Heath, most everyone calls me Hart. Glad to meet you. As you can tell by the ‘esq.’ behind my name, I am a bar certified attorney. What kind of law, you ask? Any law that supports the American Pie way of life, Son. And don’t you forget it. Truth, justice and estate loop holes for the right folks, like me. My family tree comes with ties to Nobility! Why I can trace my lineage on my mothers’ side to William the Conqueror when he raped some local lass on his way through. At least that’s what the Parish directory said.”

 

“Why yes, Son, I have never left the south. Daddy sent me to military school when I was seven and stayed there until was time to go to Athens, and with a few strings pulled, did law school at Emory. Such a shame they let the liberals in there, I finally had to stop my contributions. Of course, ol’ Georgia has changed a lot, and not for the better.”

 

“Hey, Hope! Can I get another mint julep? And another martini for the young man, here.”

 

“I’m a stick in the mud, you say? Hush your mouth. My ancestors were always right, even when they weren’t. They were paid to leave Britain by the Crown, that meant something. Then we carved out the greatest agricultural economy anywhere. Slavery? Now, I admit they got too attached to it. And more than a few of the farms were lost when the Yankees invaded. That’s when my Great Great Great Grandfather Elias found there was more money in juggling words than worrying about cotton. You always got at least a fee, if not a cut of the crop, when you wrote the contract right.”

 

“This tradition continues as he fleeced all the Yankee carpetbaggers trying to pick up land for cheap. Elias realized money really was God. And it was a God you could work mostly to your advantage. His sons, Jackson and Bryant continued this trait when they moved into Savannah permanently and set up the firm. They cemented their place in society down there when Bryant, how to I put this delicately, had to marry Cecilia Hartridge. Now we have offices there, here and in Nashville. All cities with like minded clients interested in preserving our lineage from the savage threats we see on the outside. People with very old assets tied and ways.”

 

“Oh, I’m aware we are dinosaurs. And many think it is evil we still exist and will go to lengths to eliminate us from the world. What those fools don’t realize is they are just like us in most ways and you cannot separate the just from the unjust, or the good from the wicked. They stand together as black and white thread. When one thread breaks, the weaver will check the loom.”

 

“What? That was too deep for you? Well, if you must, go on. I don’t have court today, or any clients to worry about, so I’ll just stay here in Hope’s Dungeon. Don’t like the sun anyway”

 

“Hope! Can I have another one? I’ll get you a check for the tab when I get back to the office.”

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Blogophilia 12.10-American Pie

Topic-Michael Todd

Pic- Sallon Newlove

Pic Guesses: Basement Bar (in blog)Hope’s Dungeon (in blog) dank (in blog), drunk tank (in blog), tavern, cabin, closet, storehouse, wine cellar, workshop. 

 

Hard Prompt is a paraphrase to fit the narrative.

 

You cannot separate the just from the unjust

And the good from the wicked; 

For they stand together

before the face of the Sun 

Even as the the black thread and the white

Are woven together.

And when the black thread breaks,  

The weaver shall look into the whole cloth

And he shall examine

The loom also.

Khalil Gibran- On Crime and Punishment-The Prophet. (c) 1923.