The Disillusionists cont'd...

May and I related the events at her parent's house later in the day as we drove towards the coast. Mike and Alexis seemed genuinely entertained, Jay was sullen - shuffling cards at the kitchenette table.

"Sit down Gunt. Can I get you a beer?" asked Buck.

"Sure, thanks. That would be great."

"Pass that salad, May-day."

"So Buck, May tells me you're retired."

"That's right." said Buck, "Forty-six years... cocksuckers."

"Buck!" Gracie stopped ladling gravy.

"What kind of work did you do?" I asked so as to not burst out laughing.

"Shunter."

"Shunter?"

"Worked in the yard. Rail yard. Mule. Somebody's gotta put the trains together."

That was something I never thought about. I liked to think I was a pretty intelligent guy but for the most part I never wondered about how things got done, sorta. I could appreciate the design of a television set but I had no idea how it worked. Or that most things started with a simple idea.

"Hadda fight tooth and nail to pry a package out of 'em."

"A retirement thing you mean?"

"Hadda hire a fuckin' lawyer."

A serving spoon clanged on the table. Gracie glared at Buck.

"Aw, alright..." said Buck quietly.

"He's got that blood preassure he's got to look out for." said Gracie as she picked the spoon back up, "More potatoes?"

"Thanks," and then to Buck I added foolishly, "It must have been upsetting though, to say the least."

Buck set his knife and fork down, "You don't know the half of it son..."

"Here we go..." sighed Gracie.

"Dad..." pleaded May.

"You pay into a plan your entire working life. You expect that money plus, plus their contribution and interest when you retire - that is the law. But when the company has not been paying into the fund like they should..." Buck dabbed at some saliva at the corners of his mouth, "Now don't you worry ladies, it's a matter of public record and I can damn well talk about it all I want."

"Well just don't get so upset is all." hissed Grace.

Buck frowned and looked me in the eye, "Nineteen fifty-eight. I was a kid. Just startin' out. One day, an engine backed over a workmate of mine. Dead. Cut 'em in half. Engine driver? Drunk as a skunk." He paused and cleared his throat, picked up his knife and fork and resumed eating, "Didn't say a god-damn thing. Kept my mouth shut for years. Wasn't until they tried to let me go, forty years and a couple month's severence and bye-bye... Uh-uh, threatened to sue them for post-traumatic stress. They pay up or I go to that poor bastard's family." He looked over at Gracie. "Now we didn't have to did we? Scared the shit out of the company though. Paid up big out of court. Took six years but what the hell. Damn that lawyer was good... What was the name of that guy? We should invite him over for dinner."

"We'll see how you feel in a few minutes dear..." dead-panned Gracie.

"I love you schmuckkums."

"Oh gawd please!" May was gagging again as we fineshed acting out the story in the motorhome.

Alexis yawned, "Ech. The corporate diaspora revolts me."