This story is purely fictional and is based solely on the author's imagination. Any connection between real people, or situations is purely coincidental. It depicts a love relationship between two men, both being of legal age.
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Chapter 9
"Wait. What'd I miss?" I asked, trying to catch up to Kenny and Thomas.
As we rounded the corner toward Steven Jackall's new cubicle, Kenny's smile only widened. Thomas, always the professional, did his best to curb his enthusiasm, but I could see a spiteful spring in his step as well.
"Good morning, Steven! How wonderful that you're getting a jump start on the day!" Kenny was beaming with a glow that was almost blinding.
Jackall looked up from one of his law books, already set on the defensive. He knew Kenny only called him by his first name when trouble was soon to follow. "Morning, Kenny. What can I do for you?"
"For me? Ha ha...it's not what you can do for me, Steven." Kenny leaned closer to his desk, whispering, "It's what I can do for you!" He quietly set the settlement letter in front of Jackall.
As Jackall read the letter, his eyes widened, surprise clear in his eyes.
"Sweet, huh?" Kenny sniped. "And you thought there wasn't a case. Or, maybe...just maybe..." Kenny sat down in a chair in front of Jackall's desk. Planting his feet up on the desk quite disrespectfully, Kenny said, "Maybe you did think it was a case...a rather solid case. But you knew if you pursued it, your girlfriend would get fired. And maybe, just maybe, Mr. Stills knew about you and Ms. Stacey Adams. Or, shall I say, MRS. Herbert Townsend!"
Jackall's eyes widened further. "That nigger's got nothing on me, and neither do you! You can't prove a fucking thing, you hear me?"
Thomas' face grew from pleasure from the moment to instant anger! "Why you Son-of-a-Bitch..." He darted toward Jackall, but I managed to step in, holding him back.
"What, Nigger-Lover? You want a piece of me too?" Jackall screamed as he stood from his desk, his fists clenched, ready to defend himself.
Kenny had stood up as well, but rather than scream, he lowered his voice even further. It was a tone I had only heard once before. "You're through, Jackall. I'm going to see to it that you never practice law again. You'll be lucky to get a job cleaning toilets when I'm through with you. Now get out! Get out of my offices and don't come back. I'll forward your last check!"
Jackall's face turned from anger to fear almost instantly. "Now, Kenny, wait. Let's not be rash here. I've given your father's firm a lot of good service."
Kenny paused for a moment. He wasn't really ready to spill everything his private investigator had dug up on Jackall. But the anger in his heart overruled his logic. "Good service? Really? How about Wilson vs. Taxton? How about Smith-Klein vs. Orderly? Ace Commons vs. Ralph-Tenley? Shall I go on, or do you see where this is leading?"
Jackall's face turned again. The anger reappeared. "You Fucker! You can't prove anything!"
Kenny smiled and sat down. He knew he'd won. "It's over, Steven. I won't let you hurt another innocent person. Now go."
"I...this...you..." Jackall stumbled, trying desperately to find the right words. There weren't any. He simply closed the law book, grabbed his sweater and car keys, and moved toward the hallway.
"Not yet," Kenny stopped him, rising from the chair. "Your office keys?"
Jackall fumbled with the keys, removing them from his ring, slapping them in Kenny's hand.
"And your Bar-Card." Kenny held his hand open.
"It's mine! I don't have to give that to you!" Jackall protested.
"I take it, or Judge Wilkens takes it...your choice."
Jackall pulled out his wallet, and produced the Bar Card with his name on it. He looked at it for a moment and then, begrudgingly, gave it to Kenny.
"Good boy. Now get out of here!"
Jackall walked past Thomas, whom I was still holding tightly. Thomas would have given anything at that moment to take a swing at Jackall, but I wouldn't allow it. Kenny smiled at me in agreement.
It was done. By 3:00 PM that afternoon, almost all evidence of Jackall's presence in the Schilte Law Firm was removed. Cases were reassigned, most to Toledo, who gladly took them on. Managers were informed and assigned duty watch over the firm for retaliation. And Kenny and I enjoyed the luxury of watching Thomas, in all his 'legal glory,' present Mr. Brian Stills with his settlement arrangement.
Brian sat in the dark leather chair, nervous of what the conference was about.
"Holy Shit!" Brian exclaimed. "Is this real?"
"Very real, Mr. Stills. All we need is your approval, and we'll accept the settlement, and you can move on with your life, hopefully a little better off." Thomas patted Brian on the back.
Brian paused for a moment, and then set the letter on the large dark oak table. "So, how much of this do you guys take?"
"Well, it's customer for the firm..." Thomas started.
"Not a cent, Mr. Stills," Kenny interrupted. "It's yours and yours alone. And please, accept my apologies that you were treated so poorly when you first visited my firm." Kenny stuck out his hand.
Brian grasped it, his head swirling from the settlement and Kenny's generosity. "Thank you, Mr. Schilte. Thank you so much!"
"You're welcome." Kenny stood back from the table and nodded at me.
As we left Thomas and Brian in the conference, we walked down the hallway toward Kenny's office.
I stayed silent as long as I could. "Why?"
Kenny stopped, turned to me and smiled. "Are you kidding? We dodged a huge bullet on this case, Russell. Things could have gone really badly, and worse. Jackall could've buried my father's firm in one simple stroke. He spent 20 years of his life building this firm. I couldn't let Jackall piss it away!"
I nodded softly. It all made perfect sense. For Stills, it was a chance to begin life anew. For Kenny, I saw the same chance. And he grabbed the chance, held on with both hands, and was proud of what he'd accomplished in such a short period of time.
I was proud of him. I couldn't help myself. The rush of joy and inspiration I felt in my heart was more than any man could take! I kissed him, dead on the lips, right there in the hallway. I didn't care who saw, it didn't matter to me. "I love you, Kenneth Schilte! Your parents would be proud of you!"
It was then that I saw a single tear in Kenny's eye.
It wasn't for him that he came back to Birmingham. It was for his father. It was for his mother. It was for Lester Jackson. It was for Robert Franklin. It was for Brian Stills.
In that moment, I knew why we were standing in the hallway of a small, but highly reputable law firm in Birmingham. There was a sort of...code, if you will. A set of principles that transcended simple right and wrong. It was in his blood, and whether or not Kenny knew it consciously, he was in this firm to make the world a better place. He was home, in all its many definitions.
And I was lucky enough to share it with him.
"What's this?" Judge Wilkins asked, as Kenny handed him a single manila envelope. The Judge opened the envelope and Jackall's Bar Card slid into the Judge's hand.
"Some people just aren't cut out to be attorney's, Judge." Kenny smiled.
"You're a good boy, Master Kenneth. You're Daddy did right by you! I'm very proud of you." Judge Wilkins hugged Kenny tightly to his large barrel chest. As they broke their embrace, Judge said, "You'll come to the Country Club, Kenneth. We'll have lunch and shoot a nine-hole." Judge Wilkins patted Kenny on the back, not taking 'no' for answer. "And bring that fine partner of yours...what's his name? Oh, yes, Russell. Yes, bring him too. You two make a fine pair!" Judge Wilkins winked at him.
"Thank you, Your Honor. I'll do that." Kenny shook his hand and let himself out of Judge Wilkins chambers.
Kenny found himself alone in the marble hallway of the courthouse. He looked up at the grand painted ceilings. "Thanks, Papa!" he whispered. Then, he choked back a tear and made his way from the courthouse.
Kenny and I stayed in Birmingham. Kenny made it as much my home as his own. I loved that about him.
Oh sure, we yearned for the warm shores of California on occasion. But there were always vacations and holidays.
In fact, on one particular Christmas holiday, we'd be blessed with a new person in our lives.
Ahh, but that, my friends, is another story...
Look for "Timothy's Second Wind," the sequel to Cabin in Paradise, coming soon to Nifty Archives!
I hope you're enjoying my story of Russell and Kenny. I welcome comments and questions, so email me at mycandlelight_dreams@yahoo.com I also have other stories posted on Nifty. If you'd like the titles, just ask me.