In the months that followed these incidents, things happened that were all too predictable given the trajectories all the players were on.<\/p>\n
For a fortnight, Scott bivouacked at the \u201cshed.\u201d He did not, as Lana had sarcastically predicted, sleep under his Cub. He set up a cot in the office and, having gotten his car back with its sizeable stash of necessities, he made a life. Having had a taste of prison, these digs were doable. For that first week, he did not repeat his drinking incident. He turned his attention to selling and trying to gain the ground lost by lost time and additional expense. <\/p>\n
Bruce negotiated with Scott about the sales trips. Scott was persuaded by the argument that at this point they both needed to be selling. They would divide up the paperwork and maintenance chores. Parts acquisitions also would be shared. It was agreed that they would now make a fifty-fifty effort to dig themselves out of the slight pit they were in. It was only a dip, really. They should regain altitude in short order.<\/p>\n
This noble plan was derailed by the arrival of another process-server. Scott saw the man drive up and get out of his car. He was so unlike the last one, that Scott missed the import. He was wearing ordinary cold weather gear topped by a ski cap. His well-worn boots crunched their way down the walk to the office. Scott got up and went to the door, and opened it.
\n\t\u201cScott Andrews?\u201d
\n\t\u201cYes?\u201d
\n\t\u201cI\u2019m Tom Johnson.\u201d
\nFor a moment, Scott thought that he was going to hold out his hand to be shaken, but instead, out from within the parka can an envelope of some heft.
\n\t\u201cOh no. I\u2019m not taking this. You fucking asshole.\u201d
\n\t\u201cI\u2019m just doing my job, sir.\u201d
\nScott shut the door on the man, who wedged the envelope into the storm door, went back to his car, and drove away. Scott\u2019s divorce papers had been served. When Bruce arrived that morning, he brought the package in. A glance at the envelope, from the Circuit Court of Wood County, West Virginia, told the sad story plainly enough.
\n\t\u201cI don\u2019t think you can duck the server that way, nor should you,\u201d Bruce said, to Scott\u2019s indication to \u2018throw that shit out.\u2019<\/p>\n
Scott eventually got around to reading Lana\u2019s terms. She wanted the house. She wanted a quitclaim deed. He could have his car, and all of his personal property. She was asking for temporary support, help with the bills and mortgage until she could get on her own two feet. She renounced any claim in his business, and apart from the temporary support, she indicated that she would not seek alimony per se. The red flashing light in all of this for Scott was, by acting so aggressively so quickly, he understood that he had irrevocably destroyed his marriage. Lana, he knew, at least on some level, was utterly finished with him. This realization ripped through his mind in one direction, while the realization she was the love of his life and that he couldn\u2019t live without her ripped through going the other. They passed in the middle of his head and shouted, \u2018fuck you!\u2019 He hopped in the car, peeling out in the direction of the package store. He bought himself a bottle of the active ingredient in the martini: gin. He returned to the office, slapped an old tumbler down on the desk, still sporting yesterday and today\u2019s unfinished paperwork, and he poured. It was about 3:23 in the afternoon. <\/p>\n
By the time Bruce touched down and hangared the Cessna, Scott was totally awash.
\n\t\u201cGoddamn,\u201d he slurred by way of greeting.
\n\t\u201cScott, what are you doing? It\u2019s the middle of the afternoon.\u201d
\n\t\u201cMiddle of bullshit.\u201d
\n\t\u201cYou looked at your divorce papers, I gather.\u201d
\n\t\u201cBuddy, she\u2019s killing me.\u201d
\n\t\u201c(\u2026)\u201d
\n\t\u201cShe\u2019s killing me I tell ya.\u201d
\n\t\u201cI think the technical term is divorce.\u201d
\nBruce was woefully inadequate at dealing with this level of plastered and heartbroken. A sob burst from his partner\u2019s throat. He\u2019d never heard that happen before. This was some bad juju.
\n\t\u201cWhy doesn\u2019t she understand how much she means to me?\u201d
\n\t\u201cMaybe because you hit her?\u201d
\n\t\u201cI am so sorry about that. I didn\u2019t mean to do it. I was just pissed off. It was just a moment of stupid. Just one, tiny, tiny moment!\u201d He held up his hand and showed how tiny that moment was by pinching his fingers together. He then stood up, very shakily, and grabbed the bottle. He held it out to Bruce.
\n\t\u201cC\u2019mon, brother, join me! Less have a good old-fashioned chick flick style date with destruction!\u201d
\n\t\u201cOK, let me see if I can find a glass around here without too many dead flies in it.\u201d Bruce rummaged and came up with an old shot glass. He poured himself a shot of gin. The bottle was seriously depleted. Scott snatched it and held it up.
\n\t\u201cHere\u2019s to heartbreak of earthquake magnitude!\u201d Bruce had never heard Scott be so poetic. He wondered whether Lana had ever heard him do this. If she could see him now, perhaps she\u2019d soften up. Then he remembered that she was who she was and would find this whole scene either ridiculous or revolting or both. Bruce took his shot down in one gulp. He had some catching up to do.
\n\t\u201cHere\u2019s to a temporary set back.\u201d
\n\t\u201cShit fuck. Can\u2019t ya jush go tell her I love her? Isn\u2019t that what a buddy should do?\u201d
\n\t\u201cI promise to try it.\u201d
\n\t\u201cYou\u2019re a good man, Bruce.\u201d
\n\t\u201cSo are you, Scott.\u201d
\n\t\u201cNo I\u2019m not. I\u2019m fucked up.\u201d
\n\t\u201cThat\u2019s true at the moment, but it\u2019s just a temporary state of affairs.\u201d
\n\t\u201cNo. I mean, without that woman, I\u2019m worthless.\u201d
\nThis was \u2018got it bad\u2019 of a magnitude Bruce didn\u2019t think Scott had in him. It wasn\u2019t good.
\n\t\u201cScott. Watch it!\u201d There was nothing he could do. Scott tried to sit back down, but missed the chair by a few feet. He sat down hard on his ass, and fell over backwards, again upending the trashcan. Bruce watched to see if he\u2019d get back up, or was down for the count. Scott writhed, but fell still. After a moment, Bruce observed that Scott\u2019s breathing was deep and convulsive. His back was heaving. At first he thought he was vomiting, but then he realized that his \u2018buddy\u2019 was sobbing. He thought he ought to go and put a hand on the man\u2019s back. Show him some humanity. Old wounds held him back. The present predicament had no remedy. At length, Bruce left Scott passed out in the office and went home to his own wife. He told Annie all about it. Annie could only say,
\n\t\u201cWow. I feel bad for him. She\u2019s never going to go back to him. She just isn\u2019t.\u201d
\n\t\u201cI know. I don\u2019t even feel like talking to her about it.\u201d
\nBruce never did. <\/p>\n
Soon after this, Scott got a small apartment not far from the airfield. Now, hidden from view, he began to drink hard liquor in earnest. He was worthless most evenings, and his ability to perform as he had on sales calls began to falter.<\/p>\n
Scott sobered up for the restraint hearing. Her attorney was before the magistrate with his. He sat at the defendant\u2019s table in ha rumpled suit. She sat at the plaintiff\u2019s in a lovely dress. She looked radiant and beautiful. The harsh words coming from the lawyers and eventually the Master made permanent Scott\u2019s inability to get within shouting, much less whispering distance of Lana. Bart, his attorney, took the tack that a slap across the face was not the same as a punch. It, therefore, was not battery. It was not deniable as aggression and assault, but the mitigating circumstances were that she\u2019d been dishonest. Bart also tried to do something with the idea that Scott had never before raised his hand against her, that it was an isolated incident. Had he so much as ever yelled at her before the night in question? Yes, came the answer. Had he yelled at her before that? Was there a pattern of verbal abuse? Stephen outlined all of the abuses. The Master of Divorce scolded Scott for abusing his wife, and said that it was unforgivable to have hit her. The distinction over the force of the blow or the uniqueness of the incident did not persuade her that Scott should be granted access. The order was extended indefinitely. Scott was also required at this time to support Lana, as he had been doing up until the time of his arrest. Following the hearing, Scott went home and got drunk. <\/p>\n
Early in February, not too long after Lana had agreed on the text to her Harper\u2019s Readings debut, she got an email from an editor at HarperCollins about making a book out of \u201cAmy Tells All.\u201d The email asked if she was \u2018interested,\u2019 and if so, would she accept an advance on royalties of $3,000, 1\/3 payable immediately, 1\/3 payable upon delivery of an acceptable manuscript, and 1\/3 to be paid out at publication. The editor suggested that between the two of them, she was sure they could produce a very sellable book. Her temptation was to accept this offer immediately, but she decided to run it past her father. Her father would know whether this was a decent offer from both a publisher\u2019s and a writer\u2019s perspective.
\n\t\u201cYou\u2019re kidding!\u201d Was her father\u2019s explosive reply to this bit of news.
\n\t\u201cNo, Dad, that\u2019s what she wrote. I can read it to you verbatim.\u201d
\n\t\u201cNo, no\u2026 I mean that\u2019s just fantastic. The advance offer seems low to me, but for a first time un-agented writer, that\u2019s maybe as good as you can do. They must be expecting this thing to at least sell in the mid-list. That would not be a good figure for a trade book.\u201d
\n\t\u201cTrade books\u2026 remind me again what that is?\u201d
\n\t\u201cA book you buy in the bookstore. Not a limited edition. Not academic or literary.\u201d
\n\t\u201cI rather thought Amy was somewhat literary.\u201d
\n\t\u201cIt doesn\u2019t mean it won\u2019t be \u2018literary,\u2019 it means it will sell a few copies. They obviously think that, or they wouldn\u2019t be betting on it.\u201d
\n\t\u201cSo go for it?\u201d
\n\t\u201cGo for it!\u201d
\n\t\u201cYippee!\u201d
\n\t\u201cLana, I can\u2019t tell you how proud I am, and once again, so incredibly jealous. My baby sold a book!\u201d
\n\t\u201cAs you said, Dad, let\u2019s see if it does in fact sell.\u201d
\n\t\u201cI have faith.\u201d
\n\t\u201cDad, you are da bomb.\u201d
\n\t\u201cTick tick!\u201d
\nWhen the contract came in the mail, she looked it over. She took it in to the firm and had David Weinstein take a look at it.
\n\t\u201cI think you need to have an entertainment lawyer take a look at this. Also, how do you know that this deal is at the appropriate price-point?\u201d
\n\t\u201cAs usual Dave, you get right to the heart of the matter.\u201d
\n\t\u201cLet me contact some people I know in the book agent business.\u201d
\nSo Lana learned that HarperCollins was low balling her. Dave\u2019s friend the agent did some snooping, and discovered that \u2018Amy\u2019 had been a popular blog, but memories were short, and urged Lana to put the blog back up and do some more writing on it. That said, the agent remarked, she thought that a visit to a few other houses might be in order. Once HarperCollins got wind of any other offers, they might try a different figure. If another offer could be garnered, let her take that one if HarperCollins balked. When the agent reported back, it was to say that she\u2019d pitched the book at two other houses and gotten favorable responses. A blog with that sort of readership might make a very sellable book. The agent informed HC that she was representing Lana Andersen. She informed them that a low-ball offer was not going to float Lana\u2019s boat. Another offer arrived that added a zero in the thousands place. Lana took it, and signed the paperwork.<\/p>\n
Lana buckled down and hit the law books hard. At the end of February, she took the Bar Exam in Charleston on the last Tuesday and aced it. She was now a lawyer. Weinstein and Fetterman took her on, since those guys loved her like a daughter, and they had her name stenciled on the door along side theirs. They put her right to work doing the domestic violence cases she had now had direct personal experience with, but could now argue in a court of law. Her first case involved some loony bird down out in the sticks who had pulped his wife so bad she was in hospital for a week. She got him the maximum, six months in Greenwood. She was the bane of the batterers in short order. She was known as a bitch on wheels. <\/p>\n
Scott continued to slide. Nightly drunkenness led to daytime fuzziness. He began to mess up his checklists. He was forgetting things. He was repeating himself. Behind the yoke of the Cessna, he was becoming dangerous. Bruce had to continually monitor him. He had lost much wait. He was gaunt and shaky. They were hanging on by the slimmest of margins. They were one mistake away from ruin.<\/p>\n
Dana and Julian, in mid semester, had traded places. Julian\u2019s sessions on Nabakov became a hit with the students. The story, in verse, of the ugly duckling daughter who kills herself in her humiliation and loneliness resonated with them and took over where \u2018Amy\u2019 in her brief moment had left off. Part of it had to do with Julian\u2019s reinvigoration. He was just \u2018on,\u2019 and the students ate it up. The material was so superb that it was hard to go astray with it. It had it all; homosexuality, insanity, beautiful verse, and murder. Dana on the other hand, with her six trends, was having a hard time. The students were repulsed by the neuroscience. They eventually convinced her that only the last item on her list, the idea that physical and psychological problems were intertwined, was relevant. They even convinced her that it was obvious. At home, things were similar, except that they had made a concerted effort to get a grip on their drinking. They were able to work on projects later into the evening, and therefore, they got more housework done. Julian had not heard from Lana for quite some weeks. The weeks extended to a month and then it was spring. His mind had gone quiet about her. He still occasionally would recall the intensity of her attention, but without fresh words, she faded.<\/p>\n
Amy had never worked so hard in her life. She was proud of her appearance in the magazine, which her circle of friends crowed about, but the casework by day and the creating and editing of her book in the evenings was a new level of labor for her. Sometimes the casework got the upper hand, but she was determined to do right by those taking a chance on \u2018Amy.\u2019 She loved having an editor. The editor would rewrite something, and while Lana could see that it was better in terms of a tighter piece, Lana would invariably need to take the editing as a springboard for a rewrite in her own language. As a result, the book was so much better than the blog had been. It grabbed you by the heart and smacked you in the face with its truthiness. The poetry was much better in the book, too. She was happy to have an editor that knew what the hell she was doing. The book was submitted in its final form for the apparatus of publishing to get to work on it. April was dawning and the month and a half of effort was at an end. She turned her attention back to restarting and refreshing \u201cAmy Tells All\u201d as a sales strategy. She re-did the blog as an author\u2019s site. Then came the ten months it took for the book to come out.<\/p>\n
In those ten months, Scott and Lana were once again in the courthouse. It was July 10th Lana was granted a divorce. She abandoned her suit for support, because she\u2019d been doing very well at Weinstein, Fetterman, and Andersen. The $20K from HarperCollins didn\u2019t hurt. As they sat at their tables as adversaries, she could plainly see how wasted Scott was. He\u2019d been a robust man, and now he was a shadow. The adversarial approach did not work so well for Scott. His lawyer did his best with what he could get out of Scott, but Scott refused to play along. He asked for the right to address Lana in court, and she granted this request. It was to be a simple statement to her, supervised by the court. It did not require any sort of swearing-in. It was not sworn testimony. He rose from his seat and standing beside the table, he turned to Lana and looked at her for a moment. She also rose from her table and stepped towards Scott. She returned his gaze, her thin lips relaxed, her eyes wide open, and her hands at her sides. Her composure was exquisite.
\n\t\u201cLana, I am so sorry for what I\u2019ve done to you. I was a fool. I kept you away from things you loved. I have had to learn, the very hardest way there is, by losing\u2026\u201d
\nHis voice cracked. He struggled to resume.
\n\t\u201c\u2026By losing the one thing that mattered most to me. I have had to learn of my mistakes. I did not realize I was so wrong. I had a wrong idea about the way it was supposed to work in marriage. I\u2019ve learned. It was wrong to lose my temper, but I\u2019m only human. It was so completely wrong to hit you. I will regret that moment\u2026\u201d Again, he faltered. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he made no effort to conceal it. She felt herself flush. She recalled that she had been a bird among the cats. She had labored much on brining out the music in her words and the harmony of her soul. She had not written an evil book; she had a heart of gold, though it had a steel shell by now.
\n\t\u201c\u2026 as long\u2026 as I live. I am begging now, before the court, for your forgiveness.\u201d
\nThere was a long pause now, and Bart asked Scott if he was finished. He said,
\n\t\u201cYeah. I just want her,\u201d and now he turned back to her, \u201cI wish you could forgive me, Lana.\u201d Lana was now also beginning to cry. She did not cry continuously, or much, but it was clear to all witnesses, the attorneys, and those in the benches scattered about, waiting their turn before the court, that she was moved.
\n\t\u201cScott, I need you to hear this and believe in it. It is my forgiveness that you need, but your own. Forgive yourself.\u201d With that, she sat back down. The gavel signaled the end of their marriage.<\/p>\n
Bruce went around and around with Scott during the next year. He would get into benders the likes of which only hell can top. He was negligent, belligerent, and ineffective. He hardly sold anything. He rarely flew anymore, which was good. When he did, Bruce had to watch him. He\u2019d forget to test the fuel. He\u2019d test it twice. He\u2019d space out when approaching airspace. He violated rules of protocol and been lectured by airport managers hither and yon. Many in the local aviation community became aware of his struggles. They tended to avoid him, if possible. He felt the general rejection. Bruce was holding him together with baling wire, it seemed. Scott lived on the false hope that Lana would come back. He\u2019d enter some grim despairing zone where the knowledge that this would never happen, and then he\u2019d talk himself back into some sort of hope. The duration of his misery was a marvel to Bruce. Bruce Sibley related all of this to his wife, of course, and Annie passed it along to Christine and Lisa.<\/p>\n
Out at Spats one evening in September, the \u2018evil sisters\u2019 gathered to dine and wine.
\n\t\u201cHey, Lana,\u201d said Christine, Anne Sibley is reporting much despair at Scott Airstrip.\u201d
\nLana shrugged.
\n\t\u201cIt\u2019s as if you two have traded places. Scott\u2019s fallen all apart, gotten all emotional, become a drunk, and you are like the frosty queen with it all together.\u201d
\n\t\u201cWe\u2019re divorced. That\u2019s all there is to it.\u201d
\n\t\u201cYeah, but the man\u2019s a human being.\u201d
\n\t\u201cI know he is. He\u2019s very human, that being. What can I do about it? I can\u2019t give him false hope. Whenever I think about him I can feel his hand print on my face again.\u201d
\n\t\u201cYeah,\u201d said Lisa, continuing her line of thinking, \u201cbut it\u2019s kind of a small town and Bruce is also struggling.\u201d
\n\t\u201cYeah, Bruce. I feel sorry for Bruce. If I were Bruce, I\u2019d be looking for another gig.\u201d
\n\t\u201cHe\u2019s got so much time, effort and money invested in Aviation Synergies.\u201d
\n\t\u201cYou gotta know when to hold \u2018em,\u201d Lana quoted. \u201cListen girls. I have a restraining order in place. Still. I can\u2019t just go have a chat with Scott, even if I wanted to. I don\u2019t want to, because until he forgives himself, he can\u2019t move on. He\u2019s just wallowing in emotion. I\u2019m emotional; I\u2019ll admit it. But I\u2019m ok with who I am. Scott is not. I understand that it\u2019s messing him up, but his absolution has to come from within.\u201d
\n\t\u201cHe needs help,\u201d said Christine.
\n\t\u201cI would agree,\u201d said Lana. \u201cPerhaps Annie or somebody could recommend a good counselor for him. Though if I know Scott, he\u2019d be about as likely to go to that as to a ballet.\u201d
\n\t\u201cYou\u2019re right about that,\u201d said Lisa.
\n\t\u201c\u2019If I know Scott\u2026\u2019 That\u2019s really interesting. I don\u2019t know him anymore. I\u2019d never seen him cry ever before our day in court. I\u2019ve thought about it. He\u2019s lost to himself, and therefore to me. Even as a memory. I almost never think about him.\u201d
\n\t\u201cWhat ever happened to that professor?\u201d Asked Christine.
\n\t\u201cI don\u2019t know. I think about him quite a bit, but I felt like a huge disruption in his life. I hated feeling guilty about it. He could make contact if he wanted. He doesn\u2019t. Perhaps he\u2019s forgotten about me. He always said it was about the words. I don\u2019t have any product out at the moment.\u201d
\n\t\u201cDon\u2019t you have a book deal?\u201d
\n\t\u201cYeah. It takes forever for a book to be published. I had no idea.\u201d<\/p>\n
Julian hadn\u2019t forgotten about Lana. She was right that he was unable to bring himself to resume the conversation. He and Dana had reached a good place, and that\u2019s where he wanted to keep it. His students informed him that \u201cAmy Tells All\u201d was showing signs of life. He couldn\u2019t get himself to look at it. His reticence was a result of his sense of himself and his need to maintain his equilibrium. He cherished the memory of his moments with Lana, and they warmed him when he took them out of the box in memory where he housed them. She was still his muse; she simply filled this function in absentia and from a distance.<\/p>\n
Another winter fell upon the Appalachians.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
In the months that followed these incidents, things happened that were all too predictable given the trajectories all the players were on. For a fortnight, Scott bivouacked at the \u201cshed.\u201d He did not, as Lana had sarcastically predicted, sleep under his Cub. He set up a cot in the office and, having gotten his car back with its sizeable stash of necessities, he made a life. Having had a taste of prison, these digs were doable. For that first week, he did not repeat his drinking incident. He turned his attention to selling and trying to gain the ground lost by lost time and additional expense. Bruce negotiated with Scott about the sales trips. Scott was persuaded by the argument that at this point they both needed to be selling. They would divide up the paperwork and maintenance chores. Parts acquisitions also would be shared. It was agreed that they would now make a fifty-fifty effort to dig themselves out of the slight pit they were in. It was only a dip, really. They should regain altitude in short order. This noble plan was derailed by the arrival of another process-server. Scott saw the man drive up and get out…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-143","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-chapters","comments-off"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/bloggers\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/143","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/bloggers\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/bloggers\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/bloggers\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/bloggers\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=143"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/bloggers\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/143\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/bloggers\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=143"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/bloggers\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=143"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/bloggers\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=143"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}