Chapter 4, Building the dream - rewrite

George paced nervously oustide the the General Manager's office at Petro-Chem's state headquarters in Charleston, West Virginia. After the "town hall" meeting he'd driven the eighty miles back home and poured over the map of Happy Valley spread out on the kitchen table until early morning. He felt it was within grasp yet something nagged at him. He couldn't catagorize it, but woudn't concede the fight to some flimsy unknown either. He started by pencling in the spot that Mr. Hilcock showed him then followed the road to where the current gas station, grocery, and post office sat astride Happy Valley Road and State315. The residents and the maps called it Happy Valley Township, but even township was a stretch as it only boasted seventy five residents.

There was a three mile distance along Happy Valley Road from the chemical plant to that cross roads, something George knew would be essential for both safety and asthetics. The township sat atop the valley rim as it dipped down into a two and a half mile journey to the opposite foot hills. All around was farm land; stretching down the length of the valley for thirty miles running east to west and then up the other side of the plataue and outward onto every piece of airable land. George began pencling in residential and commercial areas along the roadway. He counted on grabbing up only a small percentage of the land from the area farmers who, after finding they are unable to buy back the excess from the state, would be in sour mood to give up much more. But, if he could find one or two others who would be willing to cash in he could build up better plots for more houses.

Charlene, George's wife, found him slumped over the map at five thirty that morning as she woke to get coffee and breakfast started. Waking, George hustled to get cleaned up, eat breakfast and get to work early before his nine am appointment with the GM, Mr. Townsend. Once at work, he had to resist doing anything more to the map and leave it coiled next to his desk in a hopper holding schematics for drilling platforms, geological studies, and other minutia of Petro-Chem's engineering requirements. This was side show, side buisness and not his primary responsibility; not yet. Try as he might, he could barely concentrate on the plans for an improved drilling device that lay before him in schematic. It was his specialty and his skills had already in three years taken him out of the Engineers Work Room where they sat with thier desks in an open bay. He had his own coveted office now and the privacy to work a little less if he chose.

Before he left Charlene kissed him on the cheek and wished him luck with his meeting. With a whimsical flicker of his pencil she had even quickly marked with an X where thier house should be built on the map. It was seperated from the other areas he had marked residential and sat upon a prominence that overlooked the town as if to rule over its growth. George smiled and kissed her back before dashing out the door. As nine neared, George gave up all pretense of doing his job and uncoiled the map once more to study it before the meeting.

The double oak doors to the GM's office where a dark stain that matched the outer waiting room. A couch sat against a wall and a nice faux persian rug lay before the doorway. George batted the map back and forth against his palm as he walked up and down the rug and thought about how he would start the conversation, what he would say, and how he might counter any questions to the negative. He didn't know Mr. Townsend at all, his normal work day and activities only took him to middle managment circles. To hedge his bets he had started with the manager of the Sales Department to get a feel for what he might be up against. To his surprise he found Mr. Walford to be receptive and willing to arrange for a meeting with Townsend.

It was now or never from here on out, he told himself. George had greased every wheel he could think of to get things rolling; but it all came down to the good word of one man and that man was the dark horse to his schemes.

The double doors swung open and Mr. Townsend's secretary exited the office, looked George over quickly and in her best guardian tone exclaimed that Townsend would see him now. Smiling curtly, George entered the office and felt the breeze against his neck as the secretary closed the doors behind him. George's eyes grew wide. Arrayed before the GM's desk where several other men and none that he recognized. He hadn't counted on having to talk to an audience of more than one.

George figited and quickly took in the decor. It was as he always imagined his own office to be one day. Plush furniture, dark oak book shelves, a gargantuan mahogony desk, large bay windows with veranda portico, private bathroom, and most coveted of all: the visual prestige that such furnishings accentuated. And they were doing their job as George's mouth went dry and he felt his prestige shrinking in comparison.

Mr. Townsend was speaking with one of the men arrayed before him when George entered. Townsend gave George a quick once over before finishing his conversation. Standing there at the entrance, George definatly felt the power play. Exhaling quietly to steel his nerves he felt naked and awkward. With a non-challant flick of his wrist, Mr. Townsend motioned for George to come forward.

"Mr. Pembrook here has an idea for putting one of our processing plants along a new road route and wants to convince me of the wisdom of such a move," Mr. Townsend said with a wry smile to the men sitting in front of him.

"Uhm, yes, thank you gentleman for seeing me. I'm an engineer working for Mr. Beagle in the Petroleum development office but I'm here today to ah, to show you, Mr. Townsend, an area just eighty miles from here where Petro-Chem can establish a much needed processing plant for our Petroleum and chemical products and do it along the new state road routes being planned by the state." Hearing his own words echo in his mind after leaving his lips he inwardly cringed at how pedestrian he sounded, not the clear headed oratory he had imagined himself giving.

"Ok, go on," Mr. Townsend interjected.

"Yes, uhm, do you mind," George unfurled his map and motioned to Mr. Townsend's desk.

"Go on."

"Yes," George unfurled the map but had it facing upside down from the area he wanted Mr. Townsend to scrutinize and quickly reversed it. "Here sir, here's where I would like to show you. This whole area has been small farming community forever. But the new State15 road project that will expand and connect this whole network of roads is being planned to run through this area," George unruffled another map, this one of the road network connecting the states of Ohio, Pennsylvania, Virginia and West Virginia, "making this a major thoroughfare to Charleston and up into the markets in Ohio and Pennsylvania, shortening the transport time for our manufacturing concerns spread throughout the midwest."

"Uhm, as you can see," George continued, "it would also put Petro-Chem in a position to help in developing a new community. There is not much here currently save for a small cross roads with a gas station and post office. With a plant here and the empolyment opportunities, uhm, you can see that we would be at the forefront of this new community."

"Irrelevent," Mr. Townsend said with a wave of his hand, "show me the land; how much and for what price?"

"Uh, well there's a farmer there who seems interested in selling a ten acre plot that would give easy access to the roadway, I didn't talk price with him though. Uhm, he seemed like he'd take what was offered."

"What did you tell him of Petro-Chem," Mr. Townsend asked.

"Uhm, what do you mean?"

"You know, how big of a company, how much in revenue, what the land might be used for, that sort of thing. Don't want the hayseed getting any ideas as to holding a price over our heads later on."

"Uh, well the topic never came up really, I told him I worked for a company that might be interested in estabilshing a processing facility here and would he be willing to sell a parcel of his land for it," George said.

"So, that is it?"

"Yes, that's what I told him."

"No, that is all you have to tell us?" Mr. Townsend scrutinized George closely and tapped his finger upon the desk. "Roberts," he said to one of the men seated in front of him, "contact our lawyers and have them draw up a proposal for this Mr. ..."

"Oh, uh Mr. Hilclock," George stuttered.

" ... Mr. Hilcock and get his address from Pembrook here, the standard format will you," Townsend finished.

"What's in it for you Pembrook?" Mr. Townsend folded his hands upon the desk and looked at George.

"Uh, for me sir?"

Cracking a wry smile Mr. Townsend said, "Yes, for you Pembrook. You're not doing all of this out of the goodness of your heart or for the sole benefit of Petro-Chem now. Let's say we go to this little patch of paradise and like what we see and make this Hilcock an offer for his land, what is it that you are expecting to gain from this?"

Flustered at the sudden and unforseen questioning, George froze.

"I would expect that you have some professional designs on advancement in the company, perhaps fancy yourself for upper management even. So, what will it be?" Mr. Townsend leaned back into his chair.

"Uhm, well Mr. Townsend, I had thought some about management, yes."

His grin broadening, Mr. Townsend nodded. "Ok, just so that I know who I'm working with here. I'd imagine you'd do a little speculating as well, State15 is going to attract lots of attention here pretty soon and a Petro-Chem plant there will certainly bring civilization to the locals quick."

"Uhm, yes, yes it would," George stammered.

"Ok, Pembrook, you leave Roberts here the address and how to get to this Mr. Hilcock and your part in all of this will be finished if we take advantage of the opportunity. Good day," Mr. Townsend said with a abrupt wave of his hand.

George hesitated a moment then quickly rolled up the maps and strode for the doors.

"Oh Pembrook, not to worry, I'll keep you in the loop on this, just in case you are interested in advancing your career. Good day."

George stopped, nodded in consent to Mr. Townsend then quickly exited the office. After the doors where closed he took a step and exhaled loudly. His hands were still shaking from the ordeal and the audible sigh caught the attention of Townsend's secretary who looked up from her typing and scowled. Tipping his hat to her, George smartly strode out of the receptoin area and down the hallway to his own office. Dropping the maps back into his schematic hopper he sat down heavily in his desk chair and tried to relax. George had a good feeling about the meeting and felt confident that Townsend would follow through, enough so that he drew up a quick teletype message and walked down to the mail room and handed the paper to the typist. Soon the message would be carried to Benton in Raliegh, it read: Benton, first stage complete, regard success - Pembrook.

****

Five hundred miles away in Raliegh Benton read the teleyped message and let the strand of tape fall to the desk. A mixture of relief and fear hit him at once. He now had to tell Theresa and he had to start greasing the company wheels if he was going to get what he wanted out of it. Some small part of him hoped that George would not be able to pull it off and he could forget about his promises, recoup his investment in the realators, and ease his way out of it before it got to far along. That was not to be however.

He read the paper once more and wadded it up. "'There's going to be hell to pay tonight," Benton sighed and returned to the plans for the delivery system he'd been working on.