“Poppy, where do you bury your secrets?”
“In dark water, son. Nothing returns from the black water abyss.”
Only in Mississippi could one make such a statement with such certainty. Tall cedar trees lined the bank, grey stringy swamp moss clung to the branches. The moss hung down like wisps of the tree’s beard.
Jayson Grayson watched as his grandfather flung his line toward a treetop that someone had cut and thrown into the slough so bream would use it as a breeding ground. It worked; Jayson could smell the beds of the bream.
“Sit down there, young’un. Let’s catch a mess of fish.”
“I don’t like fishing, Poppy. It’s boring.”
Jayson Grayson woke on the broke down tan couch in his living room. One of his legs rested on the floor, the other was shoved under the thick wool blanket that covered his left foot. He blinked and stretched. His dream of his grandfather was nothing new. He always dreamed of him.
Grayson picked up his phone and checked his messages. He had nine new messages, five reminding him that he had a 0900 meeting with the governor and lieutenant governor. Jayson yawned and looked at the clock. It was 0754.
Jayson showered, shaved and dressed in fifteen minutes. He threw on a brown Carhartt jacket and walked out to his truck. Jayson owned two vehicles, an old Dodge truck that had seen better days, and a semi-new Toyota Camry that saved him a mint in gas.
Of course, in these days of ‘climate change’ and the war on ‘fossil fuels’ neither vehicle received much appreciation. Still, they kept Grayson from walking. A disabled veteran, Jayson had sustained a broken knee and back. Cold weather caused his joints to stiffen. Walking anywhere for any length of time caused immense pain.
Jayson left his cabin at 0830 and headed for the State Building. His briefing, debriefing, whatever you wanted to call it, would happen there. Frustration built up in his neck. “Calm down. You were right to handle it the way you did.”
Regardless, he had been summoned. It was time to pay for his sins.