From: Clark Hartman
To: Darcie West
RE: West Property
August 18, 2015 at 10:15am
Automatic Reply:
I will be out of the office starting Tuesday, August 18th to Thursday, August 20th with limited access to email. If this is an urgent matter, please contact Cindy at the front desk at stewart.cindy@hlassociates.com.
Thank you,
Clark Hartman
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Confidentiality Notice: Content in this message may not be forwarded without the express written consent of Clark Hartman. This email is confidential and may be protected by attorney-client privileges. If you have received this message in error, please notify the sender by replying and then deleting message.
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On Tue August 18, 2015 at 10:14am, Delia West
Clark,
I’ve attached the scanned and signed copy of the form. I’ll be eager to hear what they find, as I’ve already found some surprising items on the property myself.
Out back, I watched a bunny giving birth in a pile of old grass clippings and yard waste. She looked completely shocked, as if she had no idea what was happening. Maybe she didn’t. Maybe she has no idea how procreating works. Do you think other bunnies have explained it to her? Or do all species inherently know about that stuff? I’ll have to look it up. I’m sure it’s baffling enough to give birth, let alone not knowing that all these beings are going to come out of you. I felt bad for her. I wanted to help her but I didn’t know how.
I’m sorry if this is too much. I’m infested with sensibilities. Growing up I made sure to include every stuffed animal during my make-believe time so as to not hurt any of their feelings. And even now I take the price tags off my bargain used books because I feel they should not be subjected to their supposed monetary value, especially not right there on the front cover.
Anyway, besides the bunny, I found a completely intact set of stairs (?!) in the thickness of the backwoods (within property lines). As you might already know, my Grandpa didn’t have another house back there, not even the skeleton of a shack nearby, in order to explain it. I think this might be a good omen. If you know anyone who needs extra stairs, tell them to email me.
Thirdly, there was a large receptacle found on the edge of the property by the highway. It looks like it rolled off of a semi and was intended to eventually belong on a train. I haven’t even tried to figure out how to open it yet. I have enough freight, so to speak, to deal with already. Or maybe it’s more like my mind is a cement truck constantly spinning and making me dizzy with sludge. That’s probably a better analogy.
Am I “on the clock” with you while you read these emails? Please let me know.
I’m sorry if I’m all over the place. I obviously loved Grandpa and I’m also a bit rankled right now because a complete stranger walked by me in the office parking lot and touched my face without saying anything. His palm firmly cupped my cheek. I know that’s really nothing but it sort of disrupted my whole day. He just walked away after that. He had those teardrops tattooed on his face so he definitely murdered several people. Other than that, he seemed like a rather polite individual. I’m just trying not to think about it.
Let me know if you need anything else and please keep me updated on what they find!
Thanks,
Darcie
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On Fri August 14, 2015 at 3:33pm, Clark Hartman
Ms. West,
Please complete the form within the next week to ensure expedient leasing procedures. It is with your benefit in mind that I write this.
Regards,
Clark Hartman
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Confidentiality Notice: Content in this message may not be forwarded without the express written consent of Clark Hartman. This email is confidential and may be protected by attorney-client privileges. If you have received this message in error, please notify the sender by replying and then deleting message.
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On Mon July 27, 2015 at 11:53am, Delia West
Mr. Hartman,
I still can’t get over all this. It was good to meet with you, but since then I’ve started repeating myself a lot. I was worried at first about early onset dementia, but then I accepted that is’ just my mind’s way of taking in reality, a way to let the facts sink in that couldn’t possibly be true (but are actually true).
I’m a bit frantic as the scorched breakroom coffee burns a deep pit into my stomach and sends little shoots of adrenaline down the line of veins in my forearms., but has also somehow sedated me, numbed my brain even.
To organize my thoughts, here are some things I remember about my Grandpa, or Cole West, as you call him:
1. He was very sick for such a long time, but not quite sick enough to die, that I just got used to him that way. I forgot that things could get better or worse for him. I’m sort of rueful about not asking him more questions about himself and Grandma Joan now that I can’t anymore, which I guess is pretty typical.
2. He had this melancholy jockey statue holding up a lantern in his front bed by the hydrangeas, and the lantern always creaked when it swayed in the violent gusts during the spring. The wind can get so strong up there that it becomes more ominous than the worst thunderstorms, since it leaves no marks of its presence or warning of its starting up again. The air the wind brings in always has a yeasty, sweet, almost taunting smell to it from the distillery.
3. He was missing the tip of his right pointer finger. Here was just a scabby stub at the end of it. He would point at things for me to get him while he was sitting in his Barcalounger and I would just stare at the stump, completely frozen. I would also stare at Grandma Joan’s smile. She had an excess of gums that made her teeth look like little white pebbles in comparison, like the afterthought of a riverbed.
4. They lived across from the Pattisons. Are the Pattisons still living there? I went to school with Jake Pattison. I think they moved but I’ll always remember Jake because in 2nd grade he had many “accidents.” Then in 3rd grade, we were in the same class again with this girl who at 8 years old had (excuse me) already fully developed and she had a thin but complete mustache above her lip like a furry isosceles of hormones. This girl beat up poor Jake on the playground swiftly and without remorse. It was tantalizing to watch the blood flow from the cracks of his chapped lips. He was always licking his lips so it’s no wonder they were chapped all the time. He picked mulch and shredded tire from his hair with great shame. I wonder how he’s doing.
I’m so distracted. My desk is right beside the bathrooms and I hear the constant whirring of the automatic paper towel dispenser. Plus, the automatic soap refuses to acknowledge my existence when I’m in there. Why does everything have to be automatic these days? Last time I was in there a woman was vigorously rubbing at a stain on the crotch of her pants, blocking the only paper towel dispenser. I know it’s a restroom but have a little decorum, you know?
Thanks again for meeting with me. I’ll get that paperwork filled out right away.
Sincerely,
Darcie
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On Mon July 27, 2015 at 9:47am, Clark Hartman
Ms. West,
Thank you for meeting with me regarding the recently inherited property of your grandfather, Mr. Cole West.
Please complete the Natural Gas Lease form attached and send a signed copy back if you have decided to go through with the request for natural gas exploration on the property. I will contact you regarding the damage to the driveway from unauthorized vehicles shortly. Since your grandfather put up a sign discouraging motorists from using his driveway as a turnaround at the dead end of the street, there may be something we can do.
Let me know if you have any questions or concerns.
Regards,
Clark Hartman
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Confidentiality Notice: Content in this message may not be forwarded without the express written consent of Clark Hartman. This email is confidential and may be protected by attorney-client privileges. If you have received this message in error, please notify the sender by replying and then deleting message.