The Clash of One Mind

By Douglas Usiak

Andrew Wolf was known as the greatest humanitarian and philanthropist, a superhero of the world who helped change the course of medicine and ecology while attaining peace in the Middle East. Yet the great man was also an enigma to the same world he was saving. No one really knew where he came from or what drove him to this planetary mission, until the most unlikely candidate and his partner began to unravel the mystery of Andrew Wolf.

Enter Ernie Churchwell, an insecure, bumbling but earnest reporter for a small-town newspaper who is sent by default to cover a major tribute to Wolf and in the process, together with the ex-wife whom he would desperately like to win back, uncovers the scoop of the century.

The journalistic sincerity of Ernie and the aggressive charm of partner Cathy Jean captivate the aging Wolf to the point where he allows them to look into his life as far back as he can remember—a 10-year-old invalid who can only speak German.

Through intrepid snooping and astute interviewing, Wolf recalls the youthful influences that built his life’s work. Poignant episodic experiences with a Holocaust survivor and a doomed relationship in the segregated South deeply illustrate how Andrew Wolf became determined to change the world with all the power he had.

Still, there remained a big gap in the origins of this great man who created an empire in a Midwest town so small that it’s called Minnow. What ensues is an exciting search for discovery within a newly-found underground vault and a diary that provides a startling glimpse into an alternate life which incredibly links the world’s greatest humanitarian with the world’s most evil force of destruction.

The Clash of One Mind weaves a spellbinding blend of human drama and science fiction intrigue—and the world as we know it may never be the same.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Douglas Usiak
• Release date: Jun 13, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476496528

Douglas Usiak

“I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.” ― Douglas Adams, The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul

Book preview

The Clash of One Mind

By Douglas J. Usiak

Published by Douglas Usiak

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 DouglasUsiak

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Chapter One

The Beginning

In the offices of the J&MB Wolf Foundation, Minnow, Nebraska

"What the hell have I done? My fucking desire to find out just who this great man was has led us both down a path to where neither one of us will ever come out of this the same...

I never, never meant to do this to you, Mr. Wolf; I never meant to do this to you... and the world. You look so pitiful - nothing like the confident, senior philanthropist that was honored by the international foundation association, World Change. You have to believe me! But then again, I can’t believe myself with all of this! It is just too much, just so very much. All I wanted to do was bring people the story of Andrew Wolf, a country boy, the product of small-town America, who rose to become a world power, sought after by university presidents, national and international research laboratories, autocratic and democratic countries from around the world. And now look at what the hell I’ve done!

We sit there in silence across from each other, in mutual quiet, anguished despair, staring at the lone highway that cuts through Minnow, Nebraska. I just can’t believe it, you look so very, very old, all caught up within yourself. Your slumping posture and the twitching muscles distorting your face into overwhelming misery.

My God, I never meant to do this to you; I only wanted to tell your story, to share with the world how one small person from nowhere can make a difference. I never knew, you never knew, and now what? Now what do I do? A reporter with the greatest story ever - a story that is so big that it will be argued over and debated for years. I have achieved what every investigating reporter wants to do. The story of a lifetime, the story that will rock the world, a story that will, and probably has, destroyed a great man’s life and heritage. A story that if I write it, will make me regret that I ever wanted to be a reporter, to seek out the truth, and to bring that truth to the readers. And the most ironic aspect of this entire rotten situation is that I am not even a good reporter. I don’t work for the Times, or Wall Street Journal, or even one of the large city papers. I just happen to be a reporter from a local weekly paper with no aspirations or inspirations, but had the luck to be given tickets to the World Wide Organization fundraiser, where the great foundations of the world take a few minutes to honor their own. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time - to be given the assignment to cover this particular story, since the publisher’s wife had a serious car accident on her way to pick her husband up from the airport.

Not wanting his newspaper to miss the biggest event of the past 100 years in Lincoln, Nebraska, he called the small office on his way to the hospital, and instructed the evening editor, Sam Dutchinberg, an old time reporter now one step from skid row, to find someone - anyone - to represent the paper. I was selected since I was the only staff person in the office who owned a tuxedo and had a date that could be ready in less than an hour.

Less Than One Month Prior

Looking beautiful, Cathy Jean jumped into my modest hybrid, as we had less than fifteen minutes to get to the Hyatt Regency to make it to the most prominent social event in Nebraska in the last two centuries, the World Change Gala, a semi-centennial event traditionally hosted by the honored foundation’s hometown to recognize their contributions that advance and promote the mission of the World Change Foundation Association. This year they were recognizing a real live Corn Husker, Andrew Wolf, CEO and founder of the J&MB Wolf Foundation.

However, since Minnow, Nebraska, the home to Andrew Wolf and the J&MB Wolf Foundation headquarters, is the smallest town in the state, they did the next best thing by moving their extravaganza to the closest large city, and so it came to Lincoln. That is how I found my way to what would probably be the most impressive event that I would ever get to cover, yet alone attend and, not to mention, impress the hell out of Cathy Jean, my friend, my girl and my ex-wife.

I pulled up to the front door of the Hyatt Regency, threw the keys to the valet, ran around to the passenger side and opened the door for Cathy Jean, grabbed her arm and half dragged her into the well-lit atrium. My own head was in a swirl, knowing the men and women we were passing were some of the most influential in the world. I was in the zone, being in the midst of that particular aspect of our society that had the ability to prolong life, advance technology, and even eradicate our own planet. The power, the knowledge, and the awareness of such right here in this building around me, touching me, was nothing short of intoxicating. We were shown our seats, somewhere in the vicinity of the emergency exit, but since the Hyatt’s largest banquet room wasn’t all that large, our view of the head table and most of the participants was fairly good from our table in the peanut gallery. Good enough to see and hear what was happening, but far enough away so as not to be able to rub elbows with the real movers and shakers of our world.

Cathy Jean, looking as if she was made for this kind of activity, wore a full-length, over-the-shoulder cream colored gown, gracefully outlining her more than ample breasts, her attractive image heightened by her lightly-painted lips framing her grin and exhibiting her perfect smile. While I’m sure that I was nothing short of looking like an ecstatic jerk, looking and feeling like a small kid let loose in a computer game fantasy. I took out my electronic notebook, introduced Cathy Jean and myself to our fellow table companions, and sat down to drink in the night’s entertainment. It really was something, to be sitting with the mayor and his wife, several of the city- and state-elected leaders, and thinking, I have no time to talk to you guys tonight, the world is all right there before me, and you are nothing more important tonight than the baby’s breath around the centerpiece. I knew that the biggest story of my life was going to be as a result of this event, I just didn’t know how big it really was going to be.

We sat in this luxurious room, lighted with revolving multi-colored chandeliers that were broadcasting hypnotically orbiting colorful points of lights gliding carelessly over both the inanimate and living, bringing a surreal effect to the ceaselessly moving hundreds of people anxiously awaiting the main event. I was on the edge of my seat, craning my neck, swinging my head in all directions, taking in all the movers and shakers of the world, with their frantically scurrying security teams also caught up in the electrified atmosphere, waiting for the unexpected to happen. As the minutes seemed to drift into hours, the room’s rumbling noise generated by the constant talk, laughter and the occasional clinking of glasses appeared to automatically and simultaneously cease to exist. As if at once, the hundreds of heads collectively turned their attention to the head table where the guest of the evening sat, spotlighted against a black velvet curtain. Spontaneous applause erupted through the hall, then the colorful points of light winked out, the room fell into darkness; the room fell into a soundless hush just as quickly. An orchestra began to play, a very large screen dropped from the ceiling just in front of where Andrew Wolf sat, and a booming Mr. Goodvoice came from nowhere and yet everywhere to announce to all in attendance, that "we who have assembled here tonight - the world’s greatest scientist and educators, researchers and politicians, ordinary and extraordinary citizens - have come together tonight as one to recognize this man’s many contributions, celebrate together his tremendous achievements.

It is my pleasure to introduce to you the recipient of the World Foundation’s semi-centennial award to Andrew Wolf, chief executive officer of the J&MB Wolf Foundation, the World Change Foundation’s choice for its third honoree as the world’s greatest philanthropist.

As Andrew Wolf’s face suddenly appeared on the large screen in vivid color, with both the American and Nebraska state flags waving smartly in the background, the entire room erupted with thunderous applause and cheers. The hundreds of attendees rose as one, expressing their delight in being at the event of the century, being seen by everyone in the room, and certainly to show their appreciation of the man who has done more then anyone else in the last 100 years to advance the field of medicine, to push the hardest to get the countries of our world to reverse the contamination of our fresh waters, to facilitate the greatest progress in reversing global warming through climate change technologies, and to become the most singularly responsible person for total peace in the Middle East. The ovation went on for at least ten minutes, with Mr. Goodvoice attempting every minute or so to get the crowd to sit down and be quiet. Quiet came only after Andrew Wolf stood up and bowed to recognize the ovation, and mouthed the words Thank you, Thank you over and over and over again. There was a notable hush as 1,000 people sat down at once.

Then, on the large screen and simultaneously, albeit quite a bit smaller, live, Dr. Robert van Willington, CEO and President of the World Change Foundation, stood up, vigorously strolled over to his right about twenty feet, to a golden trimmed black walnut podium with a circular brass plaque a foot in diameter mounted on the front. The logo of the World Change Foundation – an image of a giant dove flying over the planet Earth accompanied by the inscription When we decide to change, we make the difference - had been cast into the large medallion.

When he reached the podium, he immediately began to welcome all who had come today to celebrate in the many accomplishments of their guest of honor, Mr. Andrew Wolf. Then one by one, Dr. van Willington introduced the various heads of State, beginning with the President of the United States and leading scientists who were funded by, or who had been brought into various research projects by, Mr. Wolf. He concluded with the introduction of a short video that included a series of presentations from the men, women, and children who have benefited from Wolf's work giving thanks to the man whose efforts provided them education, medicine, or food, in various languages, subscripts in English. Each story tore at your heart, wrenched your emotions, and brought both tears and smiles to everyone; all were quite inspirational, touching, and enlightening.

However, throughout these arousing stories it struck me as strange that there was no family - no friends who either would have given praise, spoken about how proud they were, or offered small stories of when Andrew Wolf was as a wee little lad. It was common knowledge that his grandparents raised him as a result of a car accident that killed his parents, yet I still couldn’t get over the obvious exclusion of the missing loving message from a wife or gratitude from grown children - and not even a single story from a childhood best friend.

This started my brain cranking. Would it be possible to write a story about the man of the hour - his story, his history? Where did he come from? Why and how did he get here tonight, the man of the hour, being celebrated by all for his lifetime work? It was a great idea, and I was pretty sure I could get permission to write this story.

I worked feverishly that evening putting down as much as I could from the stories that the dignitaries were relaying to the crowd. Stories on how money was brought forward to stimulate one project or another, and I was very impressed at the number of times that Mr. Wolf actually put himself into the fray. Using what was obviously his skills as a negotiator, arbitrator, and mediator, he was able to draw opposing views together to deal with one issue or another, resolving many times an elimination of a country’s policies on race, or even genocide. His willingness to utilize his foundation’s influence and substantial wealth to take on very large problems was nothing short of being considered providential. He was willing to run national and international public relations campaigns on environment and social issues. He had purchased controversial technologies to eliminate ceaseless debate in order to make a point and demonstrate the efficacy of supported projects. He committed his personal time and talent into mobilizing millions, and sometimes billions, of people behind a cause. He certainly was a leader, an organizer, and one hell of a nice guy to have on your side when you needed a friend, a benefactor and a worker.

After about an hour, Dr. van Willington came back to the podium, and this time introduced Andrew Wolf. The introduction was very brief after all the accolades that had previously been bestowed. He simply said to the mostly illustrious crowd, It is with personal admiration and great respect that I present to you now, Mr. Andrew Wolf.

The crowd went nuts, all rose as one, applauding and cheering as if a small-town college had just won the NCAA championship. Then the elder statesman, Andrew Wolf, slowly but steadily stood up. He scanned the crowd, turning his head from one side of the room to the other, looking as if he was gazing into each and everyone’s face. He was seemingly acknowledging every one of us individually. He turned to his right and walked stiffly and slowly to the speaker’s podium. Dr. van Willington put out his right hand and clasped Andrew Wolf’s right hand, while very prominent grins developed across both men’s faces. A mutual bear hug and multiple slapping on each other’s backs then immediately followed this formal reception.

This conspicuous display of mutual affection and friendship only caused the already jubilant reception to jump into higher gear. You could feel the emotion in the room through your feet as the vibrations ran up through the floor an up into the tables, vibrating the delicate petals of the centerpieces.

Andrew Wolf let go of his long-time admirer, turned to face the hundreds of cheering supporters, placed his hands on the podium, and looked straight out into the crowd that immediately went absolutely silent. Without saying a word, Cathy Jean and I, along with the thousand others, sat down to hear whatever this long-time benefactor of mankind was going to say.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I am overwhelmed at the signs of appreciation that you exhibit toward me. I will admit to all of you, that when Bob first approached me - by the way, he came to my office with a cup of Momma Pearl’s coffee and two peanut doughnuts - to inform me that the World Foundation wanted to give this most prestigious award to the J&MB Wolf Foundation, I immediately refused. Bob, true to form, waited until I drank half a cup of coffee, and finished my first doughnut, before letting me know just how stupid my first reaction was.

Before I finished the second doughnut, Bob had convinced me that it was the right thing to do - to come here, to meet all of you, thank you for your support, your kindness, and most of all, your love. I am absolutely totally glad that I am here right now and have no wish to be anywhere else.

With that introduction, the crowd once again went nuts, clapping and laughing and knowing that we all were sitting in front of the most genial, empathetic, highly skilled diplomat that the human race has ever created. As the initial reaction to his opening words began to dampen, Andrew Wolf continued.

"I thank each and every one of you for this great honor. However, I in no way believe that I deserve of all this praise and blessing you all place upon me. I am nothing more than a country boy who happens to have the opportunity and resources to share my values. This country that I love, in the world that I adore, embraced me as I struggled through my life with a disability. At first I was met with ridicule, torment, and sympathy. It felt as if I could never be anything to anybody, and when I looked outside of myself, I saw many, many others who had it worse than I. Millions upon millions of people were far worse off than I was; people were left starving, unemployed and murdered because of their race, color, and religion.

"Very early on I understood that if you were to survive in this world you could not be isolated and withdrawn. One needs the support, the belief, and the love of others to truly succeed. We need to embrace our brothers and sisters, listen, share, and support mutual respect and understanding. Then - and only then - does the world truly open up to show you her real glory. It is then that you begin to realize the true depths and wonder that the people, their places, and our environment offer.

I learned that lesson, lucky for me, early enough so that I could dedicate my life toward making sure that our succeeding generations can share it as well. I really have done nothing but take that wonder of our planet, the inspiring stories of its people, and the adventure of the scientist, and try to share it with all throughout the planet. I am nothing more than a messenger - not from God, but from Nebraska.

This last statement got a loud chuckle from the audience, who were otherwise mesmerized by this humble but firm-voiced and strong, wise man.

"I am a messenger from and for all. I seek the knowledge from all to share to the ignorant; I look for the research that will solve our man-made problems and deliver it to those who can implement it; I search for the medicine that can cure our ills, and I seek the common ground that can resolve our differences.

I will not mislead you or myself; it is with my grandparents’ wealth that I was able to help. It was with their encouragement that I grew to love my community, my country, and my planet, and it is with your faith in my abilities that I am here in front of you tonight. I thank you for your faith, your trust, and most of all your love, in working together to see that we are responsible for this world and all that is in it. We have the knowledge to destroy this beautiful world, but we also have the strength and the love to save it. I know that each and every one of you here tonight will work with each other to insure that the beauty and life around us will continue, for our sons and daughters and their children’s children as well. Thank you for the opportunity to share this evening with all of you, and I hope I will have the pleasure to meet and re-meet each and every one of you. Good night, and stay well.

With that closing he turned back toward his chair, stiffly walked to it and sat down among throngs of applause and cheers. The orchestra began to play again and the lights were brought up to full illumination. With military precision the multiple security teams escorted many of the national and international leaders out. Without a word or gesture given, it was very clear to all who was to leave first, and that was quite all right with me. I was not done for the night, and if I could judge the look on Cathy Jean’s face, neither was she.

Chapter Two

Introduction

I was very surprised to see how many people cleared out of that room in just a few minutes. Even the mayor and the local politicians gave their goodbyes and left promptly. I just couldn’t believe it. Probably the most influential people ever assembled in Nebraska’s history were in this room, and when the festivities were over people just couldn’t get out quick enough.

I looked at Cathy Jean and asked her if she wanted to leave now. Well, if you wish, she replied, glancing over to where a cluster of people gathered around Andrew Wolf.

No, I really didn’t want to go, was my reply. I was hoping that you might want to hang around and try to get to talk with the man of the hour, I suggested, knowing that she would grab the opportunity.

I would love to meet him, Cathy Jean blurted out. I have never been in such a distinguished group of people before - not to mention having the opportunity to meet a billionaire and an international statesman. But, how do you plan on getting through that crowd? she inquired.

Pulling myself up to my full six-foot, two-inch height, I smugly answered, I thought I’d do the old newspaper technique.

What the heck is the old newspaper technique? she suspiciously queried.

Well, it's like this, I began. You and I walk up to the outer perimeter of that group of people, and then you fall. Once you fall, all the gentlemen will go to the aid of the beautiful damsel in distress. When several of the men go to help you up, I quickly step in and begin my discussion with Mr. Wolf.

That’s no old newspaper trick, that’s just a stupid diversion in order for you to get to speak with him. Where do I get to have a chat, with a dozen hands reaching for the opportunity to grope and cop a feel? Cathy Jean said with a hint of annoyance.

That is true, I admitted a bit embarrassed. Other than that simple plan, what great idea do you have that can get us into that inner circle? I have a great idea for the paper, and if I can get the opportunity to interview Mr. Wolf, it might lead to a series of articles for the Daily, and put me in a better light with Sam and the publisher.

She scrunched up her face and smiled, looked into my eyes, and said, Why don’t we just walked up there, wait our turn, and introduce ourselves?

Without a better plan, I quickly brushed my hair, re-tucked my shirt, straightened out my jacket, turned to Cathy Jean and waited for her to complete her fine-tuning. Once we were both reasonably satisfied with our appearances, she took my arm and we confidently --I hoped we looked confident — strolled up to the circle that surrounded Andrew Wolf and patiently awaited our opportunity to speak to the great man.

The wait wasn’t too long; most of the people around him were people like us who were there only to shake his hand, give him a quick congratulation, and move on. However, when we got to an arm’s length away, Mr. Wolf surprised the heck out of both of us. He straightened up, looked at Cathy Jean and then at me, smiled and said, Well hello, aren’t you the two that were sitting in the back by the emergency door along with the mayor?

My mouth dropped open, then I closed it, and then opened it again to say something, but nothing came out. Cathy Jean was much better at this than I was. She simply smiled, offered her hand and said, Why, yes, Mr. Wolf, I am so surprised that you would even notice us with so many people, and so much going on. I am Cathy Jean Fuller, a local elementary school teacher, and this guy here is Ernest Churchwell, a reporter from the Daily.

As Cathy Jean elbowed my side to stick out my hand, Andrew Wolf’s face grew concerned. He reached out his hand, and as we grasped each for the formal shake, he asked, Is something wrong with Scott?

Once again my mouth fell open and nothing came out. I didn’t have a clue as to whom he was talking about. The confusion, not to mention the open mouth/enter flies look I was giving him, must have been apparent when he repeated himself.

Scott Micklebank, the publisher of your paper, the Daily?

At that moment I felt like a total jerk, not knowing the publisher’s name, not even thinking that of course, he must know Andrew Wolf. He had tickets to this once-in-a-lifetime event. I stammered I-I-I-I’m sorry, Mr. Micklebank’s wife had a car accident on her way to the airport this afternoon…

Is Beth all right? Is she in a hospital? Do you know where? he rapidly interrupted, looking gravely concerned.

What I understood as of about 5 o’clock this evening is that she was released from the hospital with a broken arm, whiplash, and a very sore face as a result of the airbag. Other than that, I have no word on her condition. Then, acting as if I just remembered, I added, I was asked to give you the publish... I mean, Mr. Mickelbank’s ,congratulations and compliments to you.

Andrew Wolf’s face immediately changed, smiled and responded, That’s good to hear. I must get over to Scott’s house to give my best to Beth. I think she still likes chocolate-covered nuts. But as far as the compliment from Scott, I don’t really think so. I appreciate your conveying his sentiments, but I know Scott too well to believe it. If he were to convey anything it would be a practical joke, not a series of inconsequential words. Don’t get me wrong, son, Scott is a wonderful friend. He just wouldn’t pass on that type of message. I appreciate you covering for your boss, but if I know Scott, he wouldn’t have said anything, but would’ve made sure that his paper was here.

I began to feel as if my mouth was becoming a repetitive yawning cavern when it fell open again. Cathy Jean once again came to my aid by replying, You are absolutely correct, Mr. Wolf; Mr. Micklebank was very concerned for his wife’s safety, and as he was rushing off to the hospital, he called the office to make sure that someone would represent the Daily and himself at this special event.

Raising his left eyebrow noticeably and smiling, Mr. Wolf chuckled and replied, Well, that sounds more like the Scott I went to school with — Daily first, even before himself. Anyway, I am very glad to meet both of you, and thank you for attending J&MB Wolf Foundation’s jubilee.

Cathy Jean, without hesitation and taking advantage of the moment's emotionality, asked, Would it be possible for Ernie here to meet with you and work on a story about you and the work of the Foundation for the Daily?

Well, I don’t know about that. We like to keep the Foundation’s work quiet and work as a partner for our causes and not be the focal point. We like to make sure the real credit goes to where it is deserved — the inventor, the scientist, the country, not the machine that only works to nurture the issue, he clarified.

Um, well, you see, it would be a great opportunity for the readers of the Daily to get the inside story about the best-loved Corn Husker in the last 100 years. Not to mention, well…umm... that is, aaah... well, the Daily could certainly use a break. The Daily does struggle in this environment. It’s not too often that a weekly can catch an exclusive, I stumbled out. I don’t mean to push you into the interview, but we sure could use the boost.

A sly smile grew across the face of the short octogenarian, as he responded, Yes, you do, and if Scott were ever to hear you ask for this favor he would throw you right out of the newspaper business. But, you know, I like your forwardness, although you could use a little help on how you make the request. Maybe you could take some lessons from Cathy Jean here. Cathy Jean giggled lightly and kept her sparkling blue eyes on Mr. Wolf. So in consideration of my long-time friend and favorite fishing partner, I will give you the opportunity to interview me. Here is my card, call my assistant tomorrow morning at the home office. Looking at Cathy Jean, he continued, "Please bring Cathy Jean. We can all have dinner when you come. I am sure that we will all have a wonderful time.

Give my best to Scott, and feel confident that I will not let Scott know how you got this interview. It will be a secret between the three of us. Scott would have my head if he thought for a moment that I am doing this for him. I ask you also to keep this quiet, for your job and for my friendship. You are getting this interview because of your forcefulness, your ability not to let a story go. When you see the opportunity, you seize it, he offered with a conspiratorial smile. He then once again gave Cathy Jean and me a goodbye handshake and a wink then turned to the next person waiting to meet him.

Cathy Jean took my arm, spun me around and escorted me out of the room. As we entered the lobby, she looked at me with those sparkling blue eyes, smiled and said What a jerk you are. The big bad reporter, not even knowing the name of his publisher. I can only imagine what Mr. Wolf thinks of you. I sure hope...

I interrupted, Wait a minute; just because I had a senior moment shouldn’t reflect on my ability as a reporter.

She giggled and gave my arm a little hug. No, it doesn’t, but it sure looked funny watching you give him your impression of a fish out of water. I bet he took sympathy on you and decided to give you the opportunity of your lifetime. Gosh, when you think of it, Ernie, this really is a chance of a lifetime. Think about it: you, the only reporter in Nebraska getting the opportunity to capture Andrew Wolf’s story of success for the paper.

Feeling the heat of embarrassment rise all the way to the top of my head, I managed a smile and replied, It’s not the successes of Andrew Wolf that I want. It’s more of ‘who is Andrew Wolf? Where did he come from? What made the man we see today, the most influential citizen in the world?’

The automatic doors swooshed open as Cathy Jean and I walked arm and arm through the small foyer and into the chill of the night. I gave my car receipt to the valet and continued, It struck me as strange that in all the recognition, accolades, and honors given to him, there wasn't any mention - not a single word said - of his youth, his teenage years, his parents or grandparents. Nothing from a childhood buddy, a teacher or even the local grocer where he might have worked. Usually, well, at least from my limited knowledge of such prestigious ceremonies, there is something mentioned about the person’s origin.

My car pulled up in front of us and the valet got out, left my door open, and scurried to the passenger side to open the door for Cathy Jean. He then lightly closed her door once she had pulled her legs inside, turned to me and smiled. I started to walk around the front of the car to my side when Cathy Jean called me back to her. I turned, ducked my head into the window to inquire what was wrong, and Cathy Jean whispered, Tip the man, you fool.

Oh, yeah, of course. I pulled out my wallet, opened it and reluctantly grabbed the only bill I had, a wrinkled fin, and offered it to the impatient valet. He took the bill as if it was contaminated, thanked me, and promptly spun on his heels for the next patron.

I slid into the car, put it into gear and continued as I began to drive, "You know, as I think about it, there really isn’t anything I’ve ever heard about Andrew Wolf’s childhood. In all the years living in this state, I hear a lot about his exploits, new initiatives, and even his occasional sighting by the local Wolf Watch groupies, but never once anything about the boy he