Crowding the Plate Part II

[Chuck V]

Tumbling Dice

Chuck exited Michelle’s office and headed for the elevator, grabbing a radio on the way and switched to the Concession channel and pressed the transmit button.

“Anybody seen Will Moubler?”

*STATIC* “Try the third base concession stands.” *STATIC*

“What about Rickie Jeidakis?”

*STATIC* “Haven’t seen him since the last homestand. He’s been out sick.” *STATIC*

Chuck tapped his chin with the radio’s antennae. “That sounds like a promising direction to go.” He murmured to himself. He called up HR and got Rickie Jeidakis’ address and headed to the lot. On the way he passed Derek Morgan.

“Where are you going? We have a game in three hours.” said Derek.

Chuck replied, “I just left Michelle’s office. She showed me those figures. Somebody is stealing beer. Normally, I couldn’t care less. For all I care Concessions can take a long walk off a short go-fuck-itself, but I hate thieves. This Rickie guy hasn’t shown up all homestand. Maybe he’s scared, maybe he’s hiding, but I’m going to find that little prick.”

Derek looked at Chuck for a moment. “Hell with it, I’ll come with you. I haven’t seen you go off on anybody in a while. It should be fun.”

“What about the game?” said Chuck.

“If they don’t need you to open the gates and present the lineup card, they definitely don’t need me. Besides, that is why we have a radio contract to broadcast the game.”

On the way there they listened to the pre-game and sports talk radio station KFNZ. It was the usual nonsense about UT and more than a few pointed barbs at the Austin Shredders and their pitching staff. Afternoon host Johnny B Tokken was in rare form.

“What the hell are the Shredders doing!? bemoaned Tokken, “They have a ton of corner outfielders, but no true centerfielder, not much defense up the middle and this staff is putrid! What they should do is trade some of these deadbeats. I’ve talked with a bunch of GM’s around the league about this, but if I were the GM, I would trade Glenn Hargrove and Socrates Kazantziakis to the Charm City Jimmies for Hector Silva! I’m sure the Jimmies will take it! We get one of the best pitchers in the league and they save a little money! It’s a win-win!” the exuberant host continued. “Yeah, Hargrove kind of sucks and Socrates is well past his prime, but they don’t HAVE to tell them how old he is…”

Chuck turned off the radio.

“If that guy were any dumber, they’d have to water him twice a week. I’ve got more baseball brains in the head of my dick than that idiot has in his entire body.” said Chuck.

“No IQ test to host a sports talk show I guess” replied Derek.

They pulled into an apartment building off Menchaca and drove to the address Chuck had gotten from HR. It was the second floor of an apartment building that looked like every apartment building in Texas. Two stories, beige, windows with blinds, balconies with grills. Probably built in the 80s, probably had silverfish roaches and a dishwasher that only worked part of the time.

Chuck and Derek walked up and knocked on the door. They could hear somebody moving inside. After a moment the door opened and a pudgy woman in her late 30s stood in the doorway. She had a skillet in one hand and looked like she was ready to use it for something besides making pancakes.

“What do you want?”

Chuck and Derek looked at each other and Chuck turned back to the woman.

“Does Rickie Jeidakis live here?”

“Yeah. Who wants to know?”

“I’m Chuck Valenches, I run the Austin Shredders, this is Derek Mason, he’s my Assistant GM. Is Rickie here?”

The woman’s face narrowed and she poked her finger in Chuck’s chest.

“You have some nerve coming here! My Rickie is in the hospital and it’s your stupid team’s fault! If he hadn’t taken that job, he’d be here with me now instead of laid up in the hospital with broken ribs and a busted arm!”

She reared back with skillet as if to strike Chuck, but Derek stepped in and grabbed her arm.
Derek shook her until she stopped struggling. He then took the skillet out of her hands.

“What happened to Rickie?” asked Derek.

“He got caught up working for your dirty business is what happened!” She was beginning to get upset again. “He came home from work saying that he was going to quit the Shredders and that the place was just bad news. He said we should go visit my mom in Midland for a couple of weeks.” The woman started to weep.” Then three guys showed up that night and tossed Rickie off the balcony and told him to stay quiet. They said this was just a reminder of what could happen if he didn’t keep his mouth shut. They lifted him over the balcony railing and tossed him over it! Then they gave me a good smack” at this the woman pointed to a red mark on the side of her head near her jawline, “Now Rickie is in the hospital! And all because of you crooked assholes”

Chuck held up his hand and the woman shut up. Not because she was afraid of Chuck, but mostly because she had shouted herself out.

“Do you have any idea who they were?”

“Nah., I think one of them is named Billy. One of the others called him that when they were leaving.”

Chuck thought for a moment.

“Could he have said ‘Willie’?”
“He could have sung ‘Enter the Sandman’ for all I cared! My face hurt and Billy was lying on the sidewalk outside hurt even worse!”

Chuck leaned down towards the woman. “Think carefully. Could he have said Willy?”

“I guess” replied the woman.

Derek played with his cube until he called up a screen. He showed her a picture.

“Is that him?”

“THATR’S HIM! THAT’S’ THE ASSHOLE WHO HURT MY RICKIE!”

At this point the woman began to sob. Chuck handed her a business card.

“Tell Rickie to call me when he is out of the hospital. In the meantime, forward me the medical bills. This shouldn’t have happened to Rickie or anybody. We’ll make sure he gets the best care.”

With that Chuck and Derek turned and left. Chuck leaned on the door jamb of the car and looked over at Derek.

“Fuuucccckkkk.” Said Chuck, drawing out the last half of the word. “This is looking like its more than just some guy stealing beer. That attack on Rickie may mean this is bigger than I thought”

Derek looked down, deep in thought.

“This could involve more than just a concession manager. Three guys showed up to work over Rickie. He was not alone.” Said Derek.

They got back into the car and returned to the ballpark. Derek turned to Chuck when the car came to a halt.

“You want to go talk to Willie now? It’s almost game time.”

“No. Hargrove is pitching tonight. I want to have a bit of anger built up before I talk to Willie. Watching Hargrove should accomplish that.”

Chuck went back to his office overlooking the field. He had the office light off. He didn’t want to be bothered. Below he watched Hargrove give up five runs in four innings. Austin stayed in the game, aided by a Jorge Herrera home run in the sixth, but Edward Pfeiffer came on in the 8th with Austin leading 7-5 and proceeded to walk the bases loaded before giving up a bases clearing double. The Shredders would go on to lose 10-5.
Chuck figured he had enough anger and bitterness to go deal with William Moubler. He grabbed two security guards on the way and went down to the concessions stand on the third base side. Entering the stand, he saw concessions employees cleaning the floor and the counters and he saw one-man, late 20s with greasy hair and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, at the register counting the money.

Chuck approached the register.

“You Willy?” said Chuck.

“Yeah”, replied William Moubler, “Who are you and why are you in my concession stand?”

Chuck began to walk around the counter towards Willy. An alarmed look appeared on Willy’s face and he began to back away.

“What do you want?” a clearly nervous Willie said.

“Put the money down and step away from the register.” Said Chuck.

“Why the fuck would I do that? My bosses would kill me! Who the hell do you think you are?”

“My name is Fuck You, and I’m the fucking GM of this ballclub! You, you dumb asshole, are Willy Moubler and you attacked another manager, Rickie. You have also been stealing hundreds of thousands of dollars in beer you fuckwit, and now, you’re fired. Now put the money down and step away from the register.”

“Do you have any idea who I work for?” stammered Willy.

“Up until 15 seconds ago you worked for me and that situation has changed. I’ll tell you one more time. Put the money down and step away from the register.”

Willy slammed the money down and put his empty hands in the air.

“You have no idea who you are fucking with Mr. GM. I know people. People that you do not want to mess with. If you don’t believe me, ask Mr. Leonard. He’ll tell you. You are going to be one sorry SOB.”

“Blah blah blah.” Chuck made the jawing motion with his hand. “Give me your keys and leave and don’t ever enter this stadium again or I’ll hang you from the right field foul pole.”

Willy made to move past Chuck who put out his hand.

“The keys, Willy.”

“Fuck you!”

Chuck motioned to the two security guards.

“Help this gentleman find his keys boys.”

The two guards grabbed Willy and turned him upside down, shaking him until the keys fell out of his pocket. Along with a pack of cigarettes and a small pouch with powder. Chuck bent down and grabbed the keys and the powder. He held up the powder.

“You dropped this. Floors wet, you don’t want that”

Chuck then emptied the powder into the sink and ran the water.

“Hey you…”
Chuck didn’t even look at him as he held up a finger.

“We do things by the book here. Your last check will be mailed to you. Again. Don’t ever come back here.”

Chuck motioned to the guards.

“Please walk Mr. Moubler to his car and make sure he exits the property.”

The two guards each grabbed one of Willy’s legs and flipped him on the ground. They then dragged Willy out of the concession stand by his feet.

Willy cursed the guards and Chuck until he was out of earshot.

When Chuck walked out of the concession stand, he started to walk towards his office but stopped when he noticed Austin Shredder’s owner Jim Leonard hiding behind a pillar on the concourse. Chuck stopped and stared at the sight of Jim Leonard; owner of the most popular team in Austin, TX. The man who brought professional baseball to the state of Texas (unless you count those idiots in San Antonio, and who does?). The Shredders owner looked like he would rather be anywhere but where he was. Cowering behind a three-foot-wide pillar on the open concourse of the ballpark.

Chuck grew tired of waiting.

“Jim?”

From behind the pillar came a quiet nervous voice.

“Yes?”

“Jim, why are you hiding behind that pillar?”

Jim Leonard stepped out from behind the pillar, looking behind him and to the left and right.

“Chuck, what a surprise to see you here?”

“Jim, we both work here. You’re the owner. I’m the President. We see each other almost every day.”

“Yes, yes! So we do!”

Jim, looked nervously around the concourse.

“Ummm, Chuck. Did I hear right, that you fired the Concession Manager, Willy?”

“Yes, I did” replied Chuck. “He was stealing beer, hundreds of thousand of dollars of it. We have yet to track it down. I was just going to my office to call the police and see if they can help us find out what happened to it. They will probably arrest Willy and bring him in for questioning.”

Jim’s face went pale.

“No.No.No.No.No. No need to do that Chuck. I’m sure he’s learned his lesson.”

“He cost this team over $400,000 dollars! This is well past ‘lesson learned’."

Jim looked around and motioned for Chuck to lower his voice. “I don’t want to press charges. It’s my team and I don’t want to press charges and not only that” Jim said as he straightened up and tried to look tall, “I want you to rehire Willy immediately! I’m sure he is very sorry.”

“Jim, what the hell are you talking about. I’m not rehiring that piece of shit. He’s a thief and that is the end of the story. He is also in his 30’s, so I don’t think a trip to juvie is in his cards. He needs to be in jail, not running beer concessions and stealing hundreds of thousands.”

“Chuck, you have to rehire him. I took Willy on as a favor to…a friend I guess you could call him. And I don’t want to disappoint him.”
Well Jim, your friend is going to have to learn that life is disappointment…”

Jim fell against Chuck, grabbing the lapels of his coat.

“Chuck, you HAVE to hire him back! Some people will be very angry with me if you don’t! And they will first be angry with me! Please Chuck!”

Chuck pushed the Shredders owner off of him.

“What the hell are you talking about? What did you do?”

“C’mon Chuck, buddy? Pal? You know I like to have a little action going. Well, after we moved the team here the debt service on the ballpark turned out to be a little steeper than I anticipated. I was personally on the hook for it! So, I reached out to somebody who could loan me the money…”

Now Chuck grabbed Jim by the lapels.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Are you keeping current on the debt loan service payments for the ballpark by borrowing from a loan shark! Are fucking serious?”

“I didn’t know what else to do Chuck! I was leveraged up to my eyeballs after moving the team here! I didn’t have a choice. Then when I was at the country club one day this guy I knew from the club said he could put me in touch with some people who could help me out. They might want a favor or two, I thought they were talking about season tickets for Christ’s sake.!”

Chuck took a deep breath and looked toward the stadium canopy.

“Who did you borrow the money from.

“Marcelo Rizzi” Jim cringed as he said it.

“How could you do something so biblically stupid as to borrow money from Mario Rizzi?”

“What can I say? I needed it and he had it. I was able to keep up a bit, but then when I started to come up short…”

“Come up short? Jesus”

“When I came up a little shy, he started asking for favors. Tickets, no problem, access to the Shredders VIP Club, easy enough. Then he asked me to hire Willy as a beer concession manager. He said it was to make sure I was as poor as I was crying. These guys are serious Chuck. They don’t screw around. If you don’t hire that Willy back, I might be throwing out the first pitch next Opening Day in a wheelchair.”

Chuck grabbed Jim and brought him nose-to-nose. “Jim, I’ve known you for a few years now and always suspected you were a hopeless twat, but now I am convinced that you are a complete and utter fucking moron. You have put the financial viability of this team in danger. Forget about trying to get a top flight shortstop or hire an extra scout. I’m talking the league shuts us down and gives our place in the league to somebody who doesn’t owe the mob!”

“Chuck, I know I’ve put you in a bad spot, and I swear I’ll make it up to you, but you have to hire Willy back. My kneecaps are begging you!”

Chuck shoved Jim away.

“Hell with this. I should quit right now you goddamn crook!”

Chuck closed his eyes and pinched his nose.

“I need to think about this. I didn’t hire on to be some character from the fucking Godfather. I’m going home. I’m not making any decision while I still want to strangle you.”

With that, Chuck turned and walked away towards his car and drove home.

The next day looked a bit brighter. Chuck hadn’t slept well. He knew he couldn’t go to the cops. If the cops were involved, everything, including Jim Leonard’s Tom Fuckery would be in the open and the league could yank the franchise and the mud would get on him.
Chuck parked his car and made his way to the office. His secretary, Katie wasn’t in yet as he walked past her desk so he made his own coffee before entering his office. Inside his office sat two large men, behind his own desk sat an older man. With an olive complexion and a three-piece black suit. The older besuited man sat in Chuck’s office chair, smoking a cigar that looked rather expensive.

“Sign outside the ballpark says there is no smoking”, offered Chuck.

The older man blew a circle of smoke towards Chuck and didn’t say a word.

“Okay then, how about you at least get out my chair.” said Chuck.

“No.”

“Well, if you’re going to sit there doing nothing but stinking up my office. I’ll go somewhere else and work. Then when you’re done you can fuck off to wherever you came from and hopefully we’ll never see each other again.”

The man’s face reddened and he pointed to a chair in front of the desk.

“Sit”

“Rather not. You see, I chose these chairs specifically, as they are not very comfortable. That way, obnoxious doofuses wouldn’t sit around my office all day wasting my time.”

One of the larger, younger men near the door grabbed Chuck by the shoulder and shoved him roughly down into the chair.

The older man blew another ring of smoke towards Chuck, who had to acknowledge, it was a pretty good cigar.

“Did you know you have a big mouth Mr. Valenches?” Big mouth’s sometimes get shut suddenly. Sometimes with a nail gun, other times with superglue.”

“Well, you know my name. Probably because it’s on the door. But who the hell are you?”

The older man leaned back in the chair, his eyes never leaving Chuck.

“My name is Marcelo Rizzi Mr. Valenches. And it’s time we had a talk.”

[RonCo]

You had me at Tumbling Dice.

[Chuck V]

I need to go back and edit it.

[Trebro]

This is phenomenal work!