The Adventures of Normal Ii: In New England

By Joe Turner

Normal, having sustained the loss of his surrogate grandfather, has trouble dealing with it. The chance to take a little bite of retirement, as he calls it, presents itself, and he travels to New England.

To his surprise, people recognize him as his new identity. He learns that his new identitys parents where not married, and he only has the mothers DNA. They tell him he has been murdered in New York City. When he finishes his business with the natives of Bangor, Maine, and leaves the reservation, he passes through the Eastern states and ends up in Boston, where he defends Marios cousin, who is suspected of murder. After clearing her of the charges, he tours the area in his quest for knowledge of the history of the nation of which he is proud.

By the time he gets home, he finds much work and intrigue has found him. It seems he is not the only one who has secrets. He becomes a surrogate brother and uncle all in one swoop. He thinks to himself, I may need another bite of retirement.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Oct 21, 2013
• ISBN: 9781490812168

Joe Turner

Joe C. Turner studied the Bible at a religious school from the seventh grade thru high school. Religion has been a big part of his life. He doesn’t seem to be able to leave it out of his writing, nor does he want to. After serving in the navy, taking him to places like Japan, China, Taiwan, and Korea, he worked for TVA and the US Army Corp of Engineers for thirty-four years. He now lives in Ozark, Missouri, where he is pursuing his dream of writing.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Before I begin this adventure, I need to tell you who I am and how I came to be me. I tell you this because it is important you know why I do what I do. When I was twenty-three, I found the need to change my identity, and I became William Nathaniel Case. This thought occurred to me in Philadelphia, where I was employed by an attorney, George Jefferson Talbot, who became the person I refer to as my surrogate grandfather. I was at that time a true orphan, living with a name that turned out to be a medical condition. Mr. Talbot pointed this out to me and told me I needed an identity change rather than a simple name change.

Mr. Talbot gave me not only a new identity but also gave my life purpose. He became my reason for doing many things. He took me into his home and his life without asking a lot of me. Soon afterward, I found I wanted to please him in every way because I had never had a real family, only foster parents. If you have never been a foster child, you have no way of understanding this feeling. I have had numerous friends who have meant a lot to me. I have known quite a few who have told me how empty it felt to lose a father, mother, brother, sister, or grandparent. I had never felt that emptiness until I lost Mr. Talbot, because I had never had the enjoyment of a family I could claim as my own. When he was killed, I felt what they felt and had tried to convey to me.

He convinced me to go to the University of Pennsylvania and obtain a degree in law. This accomplishment was to be my present to him. However, the day I received the news that I had passed the Pennsylvania bar exam, tragedy struck. I came home, and my excitement turned to sorrow. To my dismay, while I had been at the gym that morning, some men broke in, surprised my surrogate grandfather, and beat him to death. They ransacked the house.

Although they have been dealt with, it has been a rough six months since the incident, and I am still not over it. Nor am I at ease considering the house I live in as mine, although I have inherited it. This has been hard for me to accept. Not only did I inherit the house, I also inherited his law firm and two other houses. That’s a lot for a twenty-six-year-old to get used to overnight.

I’ve noticed lately I’ve become short tempered. One might even say I’m self-centered, thinking the whole world is against me. However, as I contemplate this, I am reminded of an educational program I watched on television one night recently. One of the premises talked about on the show was very interesting: at any one moment, approximately sixty to seventy thousand people are in the air over the United States. Assuming I don’t know any of them and they don’t know me, how can they be said to be against me? I concluded that the problem was not with the world, but as one of my foster parents told me, it was my attitude that needed adjustment.

By the time I came to this conclusion, Mrs. Hiroshima, my housekeeper, had checked on me several times to find out to whom I was talking. I tend to talk to myself when I am trying to work out a problem. She called me to breakfast. If there were only one thing I could say about my housekeeper and cook, it would be that she is very good at her job. I didn’t want to miss one of her meals, and I certainly didn’t want her to be mad at me.

When I arrived at the breakfast table, a full breakfast menu was waiting for me. She asked me, as she did every morning, what I would have to drink. I told her, as I do every morning, I wanted a pot of Oolong tea. This particular morning, she went into a tirade in a Japanese dialect I did not understand, so it would have been no use asking her to slow down so I could understand her. Oolong tea is considered very commonplace, and she was of the opinion I should try some of the more exotic teas. I have no idea where I picked up the habit of liking this tea, and I tried to explain this to her several times, but that morning, I kept my mouth shut, and almost immediately she brought the pot of tea. She already had it fixed, as she did every morning.

It might be appropriate at this time to explain about my housekeeper. Mrs. Hiroshima had come to my law firm after her husband and son had been killed in an automobile accident. Someone told her I spoke Japanese, and since she did not speak American very well, she came to me. She was broke and needed help. Since Mr. Talbot’s housekeeper had quit right after he had been killed, I was in need of a housekeeper. I asked her if she would be interested, and in exchange for her taking the job, I would take her case. She readily accepted my offer, and the rest is history.

Just as I finished my last cup of tea, the phone rang. As luck would have it, I was closer to it than was Mrs. Hiroshima. This just saved time, because the call was from Sally Marconi, my secretary and irreplaceable assistant. Without any preamble, she asked me if I was coming to the office that morning. I informed her I was and in fact would be there as soon as I finished my tea and could drive in.

Do you have a pencil and paper? she asked.

I got them from next to the phone, where Mrs. Hiroshima kept them to make notes when I was not there and someone called. She was very good at numbers, but sometimes the names were hard to make out. I told Sally I had pencil and paper in hand. She gave me a long-distance number and said I needed to call this potential client before I came in to work. Before I could ask anything, Sally informed me that the person was going to be at this number only that morning and would be leaving the state, traveling west on an airliner. She told me he was in New Jersey and could not come to the office, again insisting I call him. With that, before I could ask any questions, she abruptly hung up.

My assistant and I are going to have a little chat about her phone etiquette. On second thought, that would probably just make her angrier than she apparently already is, I thought.

I informed my housekeeper I was leaving for the office. She asked me if she could clean the office, since it was the only room in the house she had not cleaned. I told her that I had not gone through the desk or any of the papers and really wanted to before I allowed her to clean the room. I dialed the number Sally had given me to see what this potential client had in mind and why it was so very important for me to get in touch with him.

CHAPTER 2

I gave my name to the man who answered and asked him if there was anything I could do for him.

If you’ll hold a moment, please, I’ll get the boss, he said.

The next man who came on the line asked me my full name, and I told him my name was William Nathaniel Case.

I was given to understand your name was Normal, he said.

I told him everyone called me Normal.

I’ve never heard that name used as a nickname for Nathaniel, he said.

I told him I had always gone by the name Normal, but if he wanted to call me Nathaniel, that would be fine. He told me not to worry; Normal would be fine with him. I asked him if he would tell me his name and give me a synopsis of what I could do for him.

"My name is Harold Jay Fulbright. I’m in the business of building and operating casinos. I’m calling from one of my businesses in Atlantic City right now. I have people in my research department trying to find places where I might build businesses here in the United States. As you might surmise, Indian reservations are some of the most prized and sought-after locations. The US Government and the Bureau of Indian Affairs have given rights to the natives to have and operate gambling facilities built on their reservations.

"About eight months ago, after some research, my people advised me to go to Bangor, Maine, to talk to the Penobscot Indians about building a gambling facility on one of their reservations. The law firm I use in New York City made arrangements for me to meet with them. When I presented their council with my proposal, they seemed to be in favor of my building a facility on the reservation. On the advice of my attorneys, I presented them with a check for $500,000 as earnest money.

"I turned the matter over to my construction unit, which started the plans for construction this past month. However, when the construction superintendent went to the reservation to find out where he could put his equipment, he was informed they had rejected my offer.

I contacted my attorneys in New York, and they had just received the rejection in the mail, along with half of the earnest money and promises of the other half this next week. We attempted to contact the tribe’s representatives to see if there was anything we could do to resolve the situation. As it turns out, when the full council met, the proposal was defeated by just one vote, but they won’t tell us who cast the negative vote. I hired a law firm in Bangor, thinking that possibly local attorneys would have better luck, but it appears this approach has hit a dead end as well. I would very much appreciate if you could fix this problem.

I told him I had partners in my law firm who have dealt with real estate and business contracts and was sure they could tell him whether it was possible to do anything about this. I also told him I would be very pleased to have them look into it if he would send the paperwork to my office and would get back to him at the earliest possible time.

He said, Normal, I wasn’t even aware you were a lawyer. I was given only a phone number. I had one of my people call and tell whomever answered I needed to talk to you. They told your assistant why I would be available only today. I’m flying out west, and I don’t know whether cell phone access on the plane is possible.

Mr. Fulbright, would you tell me who told you I might be able to fix your problem?

Do you know a man by the name of Jako Bilbo?

I informed him yes, I knew Mr. Bilbo, and if he was an associate of that man, I wanted no business dealings with him.

Rest assured, I have no business ties with this man, he said. I was at a fundraiser in Atlantic City, and this man and I were at the same table. I was telling some friends about this little glitch I was having when he broke into the conversation. He told me he knew a man who could fix anything. He gave me your phone number and told me to ask for Normal. I thought the man was very rude to interrupt a conversation in which he was not included, but since I had exhausted all other avenues I knew to use, I thought I’d give you a try. Normal, I need to tell you I’m just a businessman. I’m not affiliated with the Mafia or anyone affiliated with them.

He asked me if I would take him on as a client and wanted to know how much of a retainer I required. "I’d be glad to pay your transportation