The Collateral

Part 1: It’s Just a Formality

 

by

Josh Hunter

© 2024

 

Dad and I were having breakfast in his restaurant, but we weren't actually eating anything. We were just lingering over plates of barely touched food. Neither of us was eager to face what we had to do that morning.

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“Do you want something else?” Dad asked. “I could have Alphonse make that stuffed French toast you like. You know, with the pear and the ricotta and... “

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“Thanks, Dad. But I’m too nervous to eat.”

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My stomach was tied up in knots. In all of my seventeen years, I’d never been this scared of anything before.

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“Yeah. I understand,” Dad said.

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We sat there for a while in silence. Dad had brought me here as a special treat. My last meal as a free man.

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I looked around at the other diners. This should have been the middle of the breakfast rush, but there were only three other people in the whole place.

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Finally, Dad looked at his watch. The cheap one that he wears now, since he had to sell the Rolex.

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“Well, the lawyer is waiting for us. So if we’re going to do this...”

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He said it like we had a choice. Like I could still back out if I wanted to.

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“Yeah,” I said. “We should get going.”

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We walked down Main Street towards the courthouse. Some of the businesses that we passed were boarded up, and the rest weren’t doing so well. Soap shops, and candle shops, and art galleries. My family lives in a fancy tourist town up in the California mountains with a river running through it. People used to come to hike, and kayak down the rapids, and enjoy the scenery and the good food.

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But we’d had no rain for the last three years. The water in the river had gotten so low that people couldn’t kayak in it anymore. And then last year we were in the path of a massive forest fire. The rangers managed to save the town, but the forest on all the surrounding hills burned down. And no tourists wanted to come look at a bunch of charred stumps.

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Still, everybody had figured that things would turn around in the spring. There’s always a lot of new growth after a forest fire, and people will come from all over to see the brilliant flowers and rare plants that only germinate after the heat of a blaze. 

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But it was another dry year, and the new growth never took hold. It was starting to seem like Mother Nature had it in for us. The town hadn’t seen many tourists lately, and all the businesses were hurting. Especially my dad’s.

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Dad owned the fanciest restaurant in town. It had always been his dream to run a swanky place like that, and he worked hard his whole life to make it happen. His restaurant had been covered in some of the big foodie magazines. And when times were good, he was making money hand over fist. Rich tech guys were coming up from San Francisco and dropping crazy money on expensive food and wine. For a while, we were all living high on the hog, and Dad was one of the most respected men in town.

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But that all changed when the tourists stopped coming. There aren’t many people in our town who can afford to eat in a place like Dad’s. And he was in real trouble now.

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We got to the courthouse. I was so nervous that I felt like I was going to throw up.

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“You’re sure about this?” Dad said. “I mean...”

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“This was your idea,” I reminded him.

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“Yeah, but... “

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Dad hated that he had to ask me to do this.

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“It’s okay, Dad. I’m ready.”

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He reached over and tussled my curly blond hair, like he used to do when I was a kid. And then he pulled me close.

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“This is what it means to be a man,” he told me, tears welling up in his eyes. “Putting your family first. I’m real proud of you, Wesley.”

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Damn. Dad hadn’t said those words in a long time. I’d been a disappointment to him all through my teenage years, and we’d been having some blowout fights lately. He hated my girlfriend. He hated my indie rock band. Hell, he even hated my hair.

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Right on cue, Dad ran his fingers through my blond curls.

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“Damn, I wish you’d cut this.”

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And then we both burst out laughing. Dad had been nagging me to get a “respectable” haircut for years. But that old fight seemed pretty silly, given what we were about to do.

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I wondered if this could be a new chapter for me and Dad. I was making a big sacrifice for him and the rest of the family. And now that he finally saw me as a man, maybe we could put all those stupid arguments behind us.

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“This is just a formality,” Dad promised me. “Nothing is gonna change.”

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“I know.”

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Dad took his hand off my head. He looked at me for a moment, like he was really seeing me for the first time.

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“We should go in,” he said.

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Dad had reserved a conference room on the upper floor of the courthouse. The lawyer was waiting for us when we got there.

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We all shook hands and then sat down.

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“We’re running a little late,” the lawyer said, “so if you don’t mind, I’ll get right down to business.”

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He pulled some papers out of his briefcase. He handed one short document to Dad, and then a four-page one to me.

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“That’s the petition for enslavement for you, Dominic. And that’s the waiver of rights for you, Wesley.”

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He paused.

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“Wesley, I need to be clear that I’m acting as your father’s attorney here, not yours. Are you sure that you don’t want your own lawyer for this?”

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I laughed.

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“You’re the only lawyer in town, Mr. Cooper. Who else would I hire?”

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“Well, I could recommend some colleagues in neighboring towns,” he said. “And there are several non-profits who might help you obtain pro-bono representation for...”

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“That was a joke,” I explained. “I was just trying to break the ice. And no, I don’t need a lawyer.”