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Xeno's Bookshelf now brings you:
Miasma Archives Previously: The relationship between Francois and William are discussed and some of the investments that Francois has made are detailed. At the age of 24, Francois is worth one hundred, ninety-eight million dollars. He uses some of that money to make a purchase, as he says, of his future. Next: After purchasing the land that the caverns were on and all of the land that he could see from the top of the large hill that housed the caverns, Francois sat on top of the hill and wondered what he would now do with this immense expanse of land. His desire for having a vineyard was still burning in his heart, but he reasoned that it was still too soon to start this project. This was his day off from the Santa Margarita Supermarket where he worked as a stock clerk. The next day that he was scheduled to work, he was asked to work overtime. Francois' work schedule began at midnight when he would unload the truck bringing goods to the store. Normally he would get off at 8:30 in the morning and go home and catch some sleep before he would have to get up and attend classes at the community college. It was March 15 when he was asked to stay later. Francois was working in the canned vegetable aisle, kneeling on the floor as he placed the store brand vegetables on the bottom two shelves. From above and behind him he heard a beautiful accented voice of a woman ask where the hominy was kept. Francois looked at the brown-haired beauty that stood at least a foot shorter than his 6'4" frame. He was speechless at first. This woman, if taller, could have been a model. She appeared Hispanic, but Francois could not see her eyes, as they were covered with dark sunglasses. "Yes ma'am, they're right here," Francois stated as he pointed to the various cans of hominy. The woman reached for one brand of hominy and began to put it in her cart when Francois interjected, "If I may be so bold, ma'am. It is my understanding that one producer makes all of the hominy, and various companies put their own labels upon the cans. You're just paying for the label. The store brand is the same product, but it is less expensive." The lady took the can that she had selected, and exchanged it for the store brand upon Francois' recommendation. She said, "Thank you, a…" she was grasping for a name to call him. "Francois. Francois Charboneau," he awkwardly said. "Thank you for the advice, Francois," she replied with a smile that made Francois' heart feel warm. "What's goin' on here?" a voice from behind Francois asked belligerently. "Uh, this nice young man was telling me which one of the cans was the best bargain," she said nervously to the man. "We're not squabbling over a few cents per can. Get your hind moving before I put my foot in your backside," the bully intoned. "Sir, I was just trying to help your wife," Francois tried to explain. The man spun around and came toward Francois and grabbed him by the shirt collar. "Two things, bagboy, she's not my wife, and two, if I ever see you talking to her again, you both can carry on a conversation while waiting to see if the dentist can re-attach your teeth." Francois said nothing in reply to the bully, but he realized that here was another abuser. He noted that the man was wearing an orange shirt that said 'Cal' something. He could not make out the other word, but he did notice a nametag above the shirt pocket. It read 'Hempton.' As Hempton and the woman were checking out of the store, Francois walked over to his supervisor and asked, "Mr. Lewis, what business does that man in the orange shirt work for?" Mr. Lewis was in the middle of paper work and curtly said, "Francois, I don't have time for…" Francois interrupted, and assertively stated, "Mr. Lewis, this is very important to me. Would you look please?" Mr. Lewis had never heard Francois express himself so assertively. He took off his glasses with his right hand and held them, twirling them around. He finally noticed the man that Francois was referring to as he was walking out of the store. "That man works for Cal-Trans, they work on the roads for the state of California. Haven't you ever seen them working on the roads, grading them, laying down asphalt, cleaning up around the roadways?" Francois did recall seeing these workers before. He asked Mr. Lewis one last question before he went back to work. "Do they have this company, Cal-Trans, throughout California, or is it just here in Santa Margarita?" "No Francois, Cal-Trans works throughout the state," Mr. Lewis answered. Francois thanked his boss and went back to work and finished his extended shift. It was around ten o'clock that morning when Francois got home to his apartment. He called William Howell and discussed a matter with him. William was uncomfortable with carrying out Francois' request, but in the end, relented. In the latter part of April, Francois was now working the day shift at the market. He was stocking bags of potato chips when a familiar voice asked him, "Can you tell me sir, if the store brand potato chips are made by the same company that makes the name brands?" Francois turned around and looked up at the beautiful woman looking down at him. Francois stood, towering over the lady and replied, "No ma'am, they are made by different producers. I personally like this brand's Barbeque potato chips the best." She took the bag that Francois had recommended and began to walk away. She then stopped and turned around, looking at Francois. "It's Francois, right?" Francois nodded. "Francois, I'm a having a little party at my place this Saturday. Would you like to come?" she asked in a sensual manner. Francois asked, "What will your husband say if I am there?" She smiled and walked closer to Francois so she wouldn't have to speak loudly. "Francois, he was not my husband. He was a boyfriend." "Will he be there?" Francois inquired. "No, he moved to Bridgeport, California, which is funny," she stated. "Why is that funny?" Francois asked. "About two weeks after I first saw you, he was transferred there. It is a very cold place in the winter, and Larry hated the cold," she finished. "If he hated the cold, why would he transfer to that place?" Francois asked with a smirk on his face. "Well, it's like this. His supervisor found him with some dope, you know drugs, this marijuana stuff, and he gave him an ultimatum; either transfer, or be terminated. So, he's there, eight hours away, and I don't expect to see him again. Funny how things work out," she said. "Yes it is," Francois smiled as he thought about how powerful wealth could be. Previous Page Next Page Friends, How about giving a Gift Subscription to Miasma to your friends, relatives, and workmates? It's easy. Just send me their names and e-mail addresses. 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