by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner
This is not quite what you think it is. This is actually something that shows up later in the new version of the novel I’ve been working on. But, originally, this was the opening chapter of the novel.
But after a lot of struggle, I realized there was a new, different novel that I should write as the first novel in the series. So, I still have six novels I want to write.
Anyway, I am so obsessed with my Webstats — I have no life, clearly — that it might make my day if someone with a cool URL pinged this Website to take a look at this rough draft.
C h a p t e r 1
New Year’s Eve Night
Union Pang shrugged at the stunned people in The Feckler Hotel lounge while she struggled to bring in her overnight luggage. The ominous and constant raging of white terror slamming against the outside of the hotel was alarming.
Pang got into it with her ex-boyfriend David Mohlenhoff the moment she reached their hotel room where he was waiting for her. Mohlenhoff secured them tickets to the party set for that night at the hotel lounge despite initially saying he could not.
“I want the truth, David. Why did you change your mind? You went from not getting me a ticket to getting us both tickets — even though this means giving up DJing at Hades tonight. Something you’ve been looking forward to all year. Something doesn’t add up.”
Hades Bar was a dive bar just outside the town limits of the town of Coleburn that Pang had a personal vendetta against. The fact that Mohlenhoff would go from touring the world with his New Wave band We Need Surgery to DJing at a dirty rock bar in the middle of nowhere did not sit well with Pang.
Rolling Stone Magazine did an expose on the sexual excesses of We Need Surgery during their heyday in the mid-1980s. The piece claimed Mohlenhoff had sex with his young groupies. Mohlenhoff denied any wrongdoing. Pang remained unconvinced.
“I just gave the situation some more thought. I then realized how important going to tonight’s part was for you and I pulled some strings. When I could get two, I then decided to come with you for emotional support.”
Bullshit, Pang thought.
“Oh, come on, there must be more to it than that. What happened to you being terrified of the historical society driving you out of town like they did me? You didn’t just change how much you love Hades Bar out of the blue. Something must have changed your mind.”
“I swear nothing happened.”
“Ok, who got you the tickets, then?”
“I got them myself. I’m very well-connected because of DJing at Hades.”
They had the whole night to fight over this issue. Her attention turned elsewhere.
“What are we going to do about sleeping arrangements?”
“Yeah. About that. I’m willing to sleep on the floor if need be. I don’t mind.”
“Jazignah,” Pang said in Korean. “You’re not sleeping on the damn floor. We’re two adults. We can sleep in the same bed without having sex.”
Pang whipped her long raven hair over one shoulder for emphasis..
“You’re right, but…”
“No buts about it. I’ll sleep with my gun under my pillow if need be.”
Pang lifted up the hem of her dress enough to show Mohlenhoff the holster attached to her inner thigh. Her little black dress was tight and slinky with a plunging neckline that was a minor scandal unto itself. The dress worked hard to keep her ample cleavage contained. .
“Ok, Ok. I get it. But you’re smoking hot, babe, and it would be an insult if I didn’t at least make one pass at you during the night.”
“Oh, I have some bad news for you,” Mohlenhoff added.
“What is it this time?”
“Word on the street is that the price for The Old Free State is pretty exorbitant — three or four times what you might expect. It’s so expensive that I doubt you could afford it, even with your best-selling-novelist money.”
Pang mulled this over. Pang’s rome a clef Somehow about how the Coleburn Historical Society driving her out of Coleburn after forcing her to get married and give birth at 16 currently lingered on the New York Times Bestseller list.
“Maybe, maybe not. I just learned in Richmond that Landpark Media wants to buy Richmond City Limits. I might be able to leverage the sale of one to buy the other.”
Selling Richmond City Limits would be a major boon not just to herself, but her employees. Being a part of the Landpark corporate empire would allow for some much-needed financial security for the alternative weekly. Some of her peers would accuse her of selling out, but Pang was prepared to endure such criticism.
“Wow! Congrats. That’s incredible news. But there is an obvious complication.”
“What?”
“The founder of Landpark is tight with the historical society. He is famous in these parts because he went to Blackstone Military Academy and made a real success out of himself. He knows the membership of the historical society because so many of them were his peers at the school. No way he would buy your paper if you somehow managed to cross the CHS.”
Something occurred to her. Pang rummaged through her high-end purse. Pang found a mysterious postcard she got in the mail. One side showed the last living picture of John Lennon as he signed an autograph. The other side was a mystery. A full-figured blonde woman was holding a darker-skinned baby in her arms. The expression on the woman’s face was wry and knowing.
Pang kept looking at the baby’s face. The infant was just a few days old in the image and shared a complexion that was similar to her own exotic mixture of Chinese, Korean and Hawaiian. The infant girl herself was beautiful.
“Ok, know anything about this, then?”
Mohlenhoff looked at both sides of the postcard for a moment then finally handed it back to her.
“Yeah. I don’t know what it means — exactly –but I know who sent it to you.”
“And who would that be?”
“This chick I work with at Hades Bar, goes by Ahssa. Real name is Annie Gun. That baby is hers. She just had the baby — Baby Sasa — a few days before Christmas.”
The mention of the young woman’s nickname made her flinch. It was very curious. “Ahssa” was a Korean expression of joy used by children similar to the English word “cool.” That Annie Gun would go by “Ahssa” was strange and ominous to her.
She kept searching her mind for an innocent explanation of all of this and kept coming up blank. She tried to keep her cool.
“But what does the postcard mean?” Pang said.
“Ahssa has a Serbian-Turk background. A Serbian prophecy that says, in part, that if Serbia doesn’t adhere to the true path that it will one day exist entirely under the shade of a plum tree. It’s assumed this predicts the breakup of Yugoslavia. In Ahssa’s mind the warning is a personal warning — careful in your pursuit of The Old Free State, you may end up losing everything — including your life.”
About an hour later, Pang and Mohlenhoff were sharing some alone time. Her head was on Mohlenhoff’s chest and they were reading a magazine together. Mohlenhoff’s free hand grew closer and closer to cupping Pang’s backside.
“Do you still think I’m a delusional bitch with a good heart,” Pang said.
The mood in the hotel room changed suddenly. Mohlenhoff shot up straight in bed. After a moment, he laid a hand on Pang’s shiny black hair and tried to sooth her.
“Where did that come from? I said that ages ago. And I was really mad when I said it, too. I hope you don’t still think about that comment.”
I still think about that comment, Pang thought.
“I know what people say about me.”
“And what is that?”
“That I’m a slut. That I’ve slept my way to the top. That any success I’ve had comes from being promiscuous within the management ranks of Media General and the Times-Dispatch.”
Media General owned a number of dailies and weeklies throughout the southeast quadrant of the country. The Times-Dispatch was the Richmond paper of record and the chief competitor of Pang’s alternative weekly.
“I don’t know if I would go that far,” he said, “but people do talk.”
Such talk always frustrated Pang. A Third Wave feminist, she was sex-postive and embraced her sexuality, rather than felt any shame about it. The men in her life continuedto shame her for her sexual exploits.
Before the founding of Richmond City Limits a decade earlier, Pang was a stereotypical stripper strung out on blow. Events reached their nadir when Pang began to spend weekends in Las Vegas turning tricks as a high class call girl. Pang and Mohlenhoff were dating at the time and that was the thing that broke them up once and for all.
Pang eventually went to rehab and started Richmond City Limits using a sizable nestegg she had accumulated from her wild lifestyle. Before their conversation could continue there was a knock at the door.
She jumped off the bed and looked through the peephole to see none other than the head of the historical society himself — Coy Feckler. After a bit of intense whispering between herself and Mohlenhoff they finally decided to open the door. Once they opened the door, Feckler had his hand against the door well with his body leaning in and his head down. He looked up at Pang then gestured with his hand.
“May I come in?”
According to legend vampires will only come into a home if they’re invited. Her past interactions with Feckler were disturbing to say the least. The two dated briefly as teens with disastrous results.
When she tried to break off their relationship, Feckler threatened to kill them both by driving his car off the side of the county rock quarry. It was only because of the direct intervention of the historical society that Feckler was not charged.
Ever since then, Feckler had made it clear to Pang how interested he remained in her. This interest only grew when Feckler’s wife died tragically, leaving him with a young daughter about the same age as Pang’s 16-year old son Yongsan. His real name was Kirk Esselstyn, but he went by his middle name because he “thought it sounded cooler.”
“Do I have any choice in the matter?”
“Not really.”
Feckler came in and Pang shut the door behind him. The three of them stared at each other without knowing who would speak first. Feckler said something.
“Ok, look, Union, I don’t know how you did it, but you’ve managed to get this far in your delusional belief that if you just talk to the CHS membership that you can get, what, a vote from them about you buying The Old Free State? Well, I’m here to tell you that you’re wasting your time.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Yeah,” Mohlehoff said, “don’t tell us what to do. If Union believes she can get permission from the CHS membership she can.”
Feckler — his tongue a bit out of his mouth — almost charged Mohlenhoff, but thought better of it.
“Boys, cool it,” Pang said. “Thank you for your concern, Coy, but nothing you can say at this point is going to stop me from going down those stairs and talking to the CHS membership about buying The Old Free State.”
There was a standoff between the three of them for a moment until it became clear to Feckler that Pang was serious.
“Ok, well, I guess I’ll see you downstairs then. You need to talk to your woman, David. Put her in her place. She’s totally off the reservation right now.”
Feckler left, leaving the couple in a tense situation.
“Maybe he’s right, babe,” Mohlenhoff said. “Maybe we should just stay up here. Maybe watch the ball drop together on TV. It’s not like we can go anywhere for the time being, what, with the blizzard and all.”
Pang threw her hands up in the air.
“Say, David, you still haven’t told me why you not only changed your mind about getting me a ticket, but were able to forgo DJing at Hades tonight to come along with your own ticket. What gives?”
Mohlenhoff ignored this statement for a while. Suddenly, all of his attention was devoted to futzing with his overnight luggage. Pang had to admit to herself that Mohlenhoff was quite handsome in his suit and tie.
“Like I said before, babe,” Mohlenhoff said, “I…had a change of mind.”
“Uh huh. And yet you’re pretty ready for me to give up without much of a fight. I find this equivocation suspicious.”
“Everything is fine, I swear. No need for you to be suspicious about anything. I do think, however, that maybe we should wait until after New Year’s happens? Maybe let the membership get liquored up some?”
“Nope. I’m going down now. I was prepared to do this by myself at the start and I’m prepared to do it by myself now.”
Pang grabbed her purse and headed out the door. She steeled herself for what she was about to do.
Meanwhile, Ahssa was returning to her apartment after doing yet another round of putting items in her car. The blizzard was really slowing her down and Ahssa was growing worried about being late. She looked down at her infant daughter and cooed.
“You’re my little Bullet, you know that, don’t you.”
Ahssa was so into the process of moving her luggage into her Volvo that she did not notice the woman now standing on the platform in front of her apartment door. Ahssa attempted to do her best to protect her infant daughter Sasa she was carrying.
“What the…” Ahssa said.
Ahssa was stunned for a moment. She struggled to figure out the woman’s identity. She searched her attacker’s face for a moment and it finally dawned on her who she was — Alice Wilcot.
“You deserve so much worse, you whore,” Mrs. Wilcot spat.
The woman was a generic Southern woman with nothing of note that distinguished her. Her husband, Jerry Wilcot, was one of the more pathetic men Ahssa sexually conquered over the last year.
Those few times they met after she first seduced him, he was nothing more than a simpering fool for her. He kept offering to leave his wife and family for Ahssa, claiming she was the best sex he ever had.
“Look, Mrs. Wilcot, I don’t know what your husband has told you, but it’s not true. We were just friends.”
Mrs. Wilcot spat in Ahssa’s face. Her face was contorted into a scowl of hate and rage. Ahssa grew more and more concerned about the safety of the baby in her arms.
“I know what you did, harlot. My husband was a God-fearing Christian before he met you. Now he’s an addict. You’ve ruined not just my husband’s life, but the lives of his children. How do you look at yourself in the mirror? You have no soul. I can’t believe the world you’re bringing that bastard child of yours into.”
My little Bullet is not a bastard, I got married specifically to prevent that, Ahssa thought.
For the moment, Ahssa was trapped. She struggled to distract Mrs. Wilcot long enough for her to get away. Not only was the safety of Baby Sasa was growing in her mind, but how urgent it was that she leave immediately if she was going to make her midnight appointment.
“Lady, I can’t help that he developed a drug addiction after we hung out,” Ahssa said. “It’s not my fault.”
“Yes, it is your fault and you know it. Jerry has told me all about what you two were up to. Is he that bastard child’s father? I need to know. That’s the least you can do, is tell me that.”
The outside door opened. A pair of footsteps could be heard rushing up the two flights of stairs that led to Ahssa’s apartment. The two women soon found themselves staring at Ahssa’s older sister TAS and her daughter Layla.
Thank Prophet Lennon, Ahssa thought.
“Hey, Ahssa, I…” TAS said.
They all stared at each other for a moment. Then Mrs. Wilcot yelled and ran down the stairs. TAS hugged a grateful Ahssa. Within a few moments, TAS’ daughter Layla also appeared on the platform. She closed the door behind them while making sure Baby Sasa was safe. Ahssa placed the infant in a nearby crib then turned her full attention to TAS .
“That was really scary. Thank you so much for saving me.”
Her apartment indicated Ahssa might be leaving town on some sort of midnight run later that night.. Clothes and luggage strone about everywhere. Layla looked at Ahssa for permission to pick up the baby out of her crib. Ahssa nodded her approval and soon Layla was walking around the apartment with Baby Sasa.
“What did you need me for, honey?” TAS said. “It sounded urgent.”
It is urgent, but it’s a secret, Ahssa thought.
“Oh, I just wanted to chat. I’m getting a little nervous because of the huge snowstorm attacking the town at the moment.”
“Honey,” TAS said, “I’ve been reading alt.religion.zemian and there’s all this talk there about how you need someone to cover you for your New Year’s Eve gig at Hades. What’s going on? Are you leaving town or something? You would tell me if you were leaving town, wouldn’t you?”
Alt.religion.zemian served as the heart of the Zemian community. It was part of the online distributive communication system known as Unsenet. Zemians were a group that Ahssa co-founded in the last year with her new husband Orisis. Devoted Zemians went by their Usenet usernames offline as well.
“Of course, TAS, if I was leaving town, I would tell you. You’re my closest relative and a fellow Zemian. And why would I leave town?”
“I don’t know. You tell me. It sure does look like you’re going to leave Coleburn tonight in all of…that.”
“The Zemian movement is growing in leaps and bounds. So what if Osiris and I had a little disagreement about the state of our marriage. Every newly married couple has differences.”
“It wasn’t just ‘a little disagreement!’ The man struck you across the face in full view of the entire coven. I wouldn’t hold it against you if you left town, but you can at least tell me where you’re going.”
Ahssa made it clear she was not prepared to do that. She turned away from her sister and looked out her apartment window. The blizzard outside in the darkness did not show any sign of abating.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Noona,” Ahssa said.
TAS flinched. Ahssa’s use of incidental Korean aggravated her older sister.
“Well, you’ve got to tell me what’s going on with you DJing at Hades. DJing there on New Year’s Eve is all you’ve talked about for months.”
“Something came up, is all. I just can’t make it. It’s no big deal.”
“Honey, I’m your sister. Please tell me the truth. For once. This is really important. I just want what’s best for you.”
Rather than yell at her sister for accusing her of being a liar, Ahssa closed her eyes and made a waterfall motion with her hands in front of her face. After this ritual was finished, Ahssa went to her door and opened it.
“So you want me to leave?” TAS said. “Is that what you want? I love you, honey and I’m really worried about what you’re about to do.”
Ahssa said nothing. She continued to stand next to the opened door with her hand on its doorknob. TAS sighed loudly and threw up her hands in dismay. She motioned to her daughter that they were leaving. TAS grew impatient and left the apartment with the door open behind her. Something occurred to Ahssa as all of this was happening.
I almost forgot, Ahssa thought.
The amount of time it took Layla to lay Baby Sasa back down in her crib, Ahssa dug out of her purse something that she considered her “insurance” going forward.
“Hey, Layla,” she said, “can you give this to Yongsan next time you see him? It’s really important. Top secret. His eyes only. I’m trusting you not to tell your mom about this. Or to look at what’s on it. Can I do that?”
Layla was silent for a moment before answering. She held out her hand and Ahssa placed a CD in it.
Union Pang spent the next 40 minutes chatting with Coleburn Historical Society members about how she might get their permission to buy The Old Free State. The tension in the room surrounding her presence was making Pang sweat.
In real terms, the membership of the CHS was small — less than a dozen people. Pang began to make her through the small crowd at a random place. As the schmoozing began, the drinking began.
Once she was done talking to the them, Pang walked over to Mohlenhoff at the bar. She gave him a hug. Pang reviewed in her mind the conditions the CHS laid down. She decided to go from easiest to most difficult to meet.
“Ok, well, the first condition is that I move to Coleburn as soon as possible. I think that’s probably pretty easy for me to do. You won’t mind if I crash at your place until I find my own place, do you?”
Mohlenhoff took a deep gup off of his double whiskey before answering.
“I do have a furnished basement apartment in the house where my mom lived before her death. I have more than enough space for you, but the question is — do you really want to be in such close proximity to me?”
Pang leaned back and contemplated this question for a moment. There was a real risk that their relationship, such as it was, would collapse if they actually had to see each other every day. And, yet, in the end, Pang did not believe that was too onerous a condition, especially given the nature of some of the other conditions they were going to go through in a moment.
“I think I can handle living with you, no problem,” Pang said “But the conditions get a lot more difficult from here on out. The next general condition was some sort of statement of contrition on my part. They want me to say, like, I’m sorry and stuff for writing Somehow.”
“But you’re not sorry.”
“I know, but if I have to say I am to get the permission I want, then so be it. I don’t mind standing up and saying I’m sorry for writing Somehow even though, well, you know.”
“Jesus Christ, woman. Is there anything you won’t do to own that damn paper? You’re obsessed. I’m really beginning to worry about you, you know that? You have so much else going for you. Yet, you’re willing to be a huge hypocrite just to own the newspaper. It truly does seem rather bizarre to me, I have to say.”
Pang did not say anything for a moment. She put a finger in her mouth and mimicked biting a fingernail while she was deep in thought.
“Whatever.”
“What are the other conditions?”
“Ok. Well. This next one is going to be tough. In general, the membership wants me to get married. Can you believe that? They want me to make an ‘honest woman’ out of myself.”
Mohlenhoff spit his whiskey out of his nose in shock.
“And, who pray tell, do they want you to marry?”
“Who do you think — Coy Feckler.”
“Of course it would be Coy. Well, that’s not going to fly.”
“I was thinking maybe you and I could get together. Maybe work our way towards getting married? I am going to live with you already, you know? It would make logical sense to take things to the next level.”
Mohlenhoff made a loud noise. He stood up without saying anything and walked over to the nearby bar to get himself another whiskey on the rocks. Pang kept looking at him anxiously as he did this, wondering what was going through his mind. Mohlenhoff finally came back.
“Ok. This is going to be a tough one. I will admit that I find you very, very attractive — you’re hot as hell — but…I think even you will admit that we have something of a turbulent relationship at the moment.”
“Yes, yes, I know. But at least think about it. I got them to agree to have a vote early next week about giving me permission to buy the paper. If I can give them a concrete effort on my part when it comes to this condition, I think it will help a lot. Please think about it? All we have to do is start dating again at this point.”
“Oh boy. You’re really asking a lot, I have to tell you. Let me think about it. The idea of dating you again is enticing, but…I dunno. It’s also going to require a few days of thought on my part.”
“The last condition is the most difficult for me to grapple with. But it’s something I have to take seriously.”
“Ok. What is it? I hope it’s not having another kid, ‘cause that’s not even physically possible for you at this point.”
“Haha, very funny. No. They want me to become a Christian. It’s really important to all of them, in fact. It’s going to be really tough. I’m going to have to grit my teeth and have some sort of faith for once in my life.”
Mohlenhoff sighed deeply.
“Are you sure you’re prepared to do something so drastic? I’ve heard of being a hypocrite, but this is next level.”
“‘Paris is worth a Mass,’ as the old saying goes,” Pang said. “So, yeah. I think I can probably manage to square this particular circle.”
She called a waitress over and ordered a round of tequila for her and Mohlenhoff.
As the night wore on, Pang demanded that Mohlenhoff take a series of tequila shots with her. Pang rarely got intoxicated. But she needed some way of smoothing her anger over what she felt were ridiculous conditions to buy The Old Free State.
It was soon midnight, and, as such, the couple prepared to kiss for New Year’s Eve. As the countdown to midnight began they were both wasted. Pang continued to struggle with what she was going to do about the paper.
When midnight finally came and she kissed Mohlenhoff, she wished that despite everything, she would figure out some way to own The Old Free State at last. It was just after the party’s crowd stopped singing Auld Lang Syne that all the alcohol Union Pang had consumed began to kick in.
Ginger Hust came down the hotel’s stairs. Pang was pleased that she would have the opportunity to chat up the owner of The Old Free State now that the paper was almost hers. The couple counted down the last remaining moments of 1994. She kissed Mohlenhoff hard on the lips. The next year was going to be hers, she just knew it.
As the ringing in of 1995 began to die down, Pang walked over to Ginger Hust to tell her the good news — she was on the cusp of getting the permission demanded. The two women locked eyes. Hust pursed her lips and rolled her eyes.
“So good to see you at tonight’s event, Ginger,” she said. “I had no idea you actually planned to attend.”
Hust was in late middle age. Pang estimated she was probably pushing 60 at this point. The owner of The Old Free State wore a collection of gaudy jewelry that Pang assumed was meant to distract people from the ravages of time. Hust’s strawberry-blonde hair was cut into a casual, fashionable bob.
“Neither did I. But then I heard through the grapevine you actually managed to get not one, but two tickets. I had to be here to see what happened. I ultimately decided to just celebrate New Year’s Eve. But I suppose the night is young.”
“Yes. Indeed. I’m so glad you’re here. I now know the conditions I have to meet to buy the paper. Should have them met pretty soon. Give me a few weeks.”
“Well, you haven’t officially gotten that permission. You need it not in a few weeks, but more like tonight. I’ve been bombarded with people wanting to buy the paper.”
Pang sucked in air. The idea of getting permission that fast was difficult for her to process. Coy Feckler would have to call for a vote of the membership on the matter before the end of the night. Pang was prepared to do that just yet. She was going to have to psych herself up some. She noticed that Hust was saying something.
“I’m impressed with your spunk, Union. You’ve managed to get yourself into a pretty exclusive party managed by an organization that hates your guts.”
Pang smirked and looked over at Mohlenhoff.
“Can you tell me why the paper so expensive? It’s something of a mystery to me at the moment.”
There was a long pause. Finally, Hust spoke.
“It’s the paper’s new building. The one we’re building on a side street near here at The Feckler Hotel. There have been…cost overruns. And such, I’ve been forced to include the completion.
Pang reviewed in her mind what she might glean from a new building being so important to someone like Hust. It definitely seemed as though Hust wanted a monument to her own ego to the point that she was willing to risk the very existence of the newspaper to build it.
“But there is something else you need to be worried about,” Hust said. “Something just as important.”
“Oh, what’s that?”
“The editorial staff of the paper will quit if you do manage to secure permission to buy the paper from the historical society. They all really, really hate you for what you wrote in that awful novel of yours.”
A chill ran down Pang’s spine. This was yet another complication, another obstacle in a never-ending series of problems she had to face to simply secure The Old Free State — something she felt was rightfully hers.
But it was worth it. Totally worth it.
Pang had a real buzz going on, which was unusual for her. She focused her eyes well enough to walk over to the bar to ask if she could talk to Feckler about buying the paper. Soon, was escorted to a room marked “Private.” After a knock on the door, Pang walked into an expansive apartment. Feckler was waiting for her.
She grew alarmed, however, when she realized what Feckler was wearing — an open robe without anything underneath. Suddenly, Pang began to game out some nightmare scenarios. She was grateful that she was packing heat.
“Please get comfortable,” Feckler said.
“No, I’m cool.”
“Whatever.”
Pang sat down on a couch. Feckler sat across from her in a chair. He sat with his legs spread as if he was trying to draw attention to his exposed genitals. She rolled her eyes, then closed them and sighed heavily.
Every so often, Feckler would grab his penis as if to give more emphasis to what he was saying. Pang kept her eyes focused on his eyes. Feckler opened his robe totally and leaned back in his chair as if he expected Pang to know what to do next. Pang forced herself to stare at Feckler’s crotch long enough to do a gut check.
But before she knew it, Feckler was sitting next to her. He grabbed a breast and stuck his tongue into her mouth.
“I’m going to cum all over your face,” he said.
Pang came to her senses. In one swift move, she pulled her Glock out of her thigh holster and pointed it square at Feckler.
“Don’t you ever touch me again,” Pang said.
Pang turned to leave, hoping that Feckler would be in too much shock to stop her.
“Where are you going,” Feckler said. “You’ll never own the paper now.”
Pang didn’t say anything.
“Your son is DJing at Hades Bar at the moment. You don’t seem like a very good mother, letting such a thing happen. ”
“What the hell are you talking about, Coy?”
“You heard what I said. Your 16-year-old son came down from Richmond tonight — in the middle of a blizzard no less — to DJ at Hades. You should be thankful Child Protective Services doesn’t look into that situation.”
Pang’s mind was so clouded with alcohol that she struggled to process what she was learning. Given her hostile relationship to Feckler, she assumed he was lying. The more she thought about it, however, the more Pang began to fear that what he was saying was true.
“I don’t believe you, Coy. How would you even know such a thing?”
“Well, I found it very curious that David was with you tonight, so I made some calls. It did not take too long for me to learn what was going on. I’m afraid your love keeping an eye on you for some reason.”
This would make sense in the context Mohlenhoff abruptly deciding to come with her to party
Pang could feel rage beginning to build within her. Thankfully, the door opened without a problem. She stepped out into the lounge. She could feel the blood draining from her face. Pang needed to collect her thoughts. She headed to the women’s bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. She leaned over the sink in shame.
It’s over, Pang thought.
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