No, not there… (N6)

Henry Karl dreaded making the decision, but he knew he would have to go back to where it all started, to that far-away country he still couldn’t find on a map (he wasn’t very good with maps, I’m pretty sure). He had to go back, however, because it was the only source of support he still had, after burning a lot of bridges and pockets as well. Support meant money, financial backing, opportunities to go places and do things. It also meant groveling, in his case. He hated getting on his knees unless it was for a good reason, but he’d run through all his assets. He hated feeling poor, so he would go grovel, not certain what that would entail this time, but hoping it would go better than before. (I am doing you a favor by not describing what happened before, and as you may recall from the first episode, it was a lucrative venture. Hank was the malleable sort.)

When Hank landed on the private airstrip, he was immediately hit by a wall of intense heat and humidity, but he took a deep breath and headed toward the compound where he’d been told to present his documents. The papers were removed from his person by an individual with an expressionless face and nondescript clothing, with the promise to return them when it was time to leave. He hated the feeling of being an undocumented alien, but there was no way around it. He also hated staying very long in a place where it seemed few people spoke English. Those who did speak it had accents.

Hank wasn’t sure how long he would be forced to stay, but he hoped it would be less than a week. He had many commitments and also didn’t like the food in that far-away place. Not a lot of details are available regarding the stay, but I was able to ascertain a few things, mostly because (as I always need to point out) I am not human and thereby am subject to fewer constraints. Still, I am discrete and will not provide any graphic or inappropriate details.

We can just say Mr. Karl was led down a corridor with no windows and placed in a room that was not a cell but resembled one. He was given a new set of garments to wear and had a bathroom attached to his suite. It was the bare minimum, and made him squirm with its simplicity. He couldn’t say for sure whether the window in his personal lodgings was real or if the scenery it framed was only a very realistic painting. At least the curtains were nice and the bed was soft. He would be patient until they came to tell him what was expected of him.

Then another person appeared, dressed in flowing garments, and used gestures to indicate what Hank was supposed to do. (He was glad not to have to listen to a foreign language or accented English.) What he was told to do I won’t describe here, but suffice it to say he did not feel comfortable or proud of himself for doing it, especially with an individual who seemed to be male. It was too intimate and felt wrong, although he slowly became accustomed to the ritual. It was a daily occurrence or perhaps more frequent, but he kept his eyes closed and told himself it was all for a good cause: money. Sometimes he could relax and enjoy himself, just a bit. Other times, not so much. It was a sort of slow dance.

The week Hank had been hoping for became two weeks, then three, and finally reached five weeks. At that point, he was made aware that his stay had come to an end. He had counted on reimbursement at the going rate, and thirty five days times three times a day came to one hundred five at five million dollars each time he did what was indicated, provided the required information, meant five hundred twenty five million dollars! Nice! He was anxious to collect the fees and go home. The money would provide some stability.

The problem was he hadn’t known about the taxes. They told him eighty percent of his earnings would stay in the country to pay for his residence and care during those five weeks. He was entitled to a mere hundred four million. After all he’d done to comply! He was furious. Somebody would have to pay, anybody…

Henry Karl returned home and began to put his plan(s) into motion. Nobody would be given all the parameters, although I know them. Because of that, I’ll simply note the most overt aspects. Basically, he started a few companies and recruited managers for them. His goal was to sell a lot and make a lot of profit. He invested in hair items, like sprays, gels, brushed, dyes. Everyone needs hair products and can be convinced to purchase them. Another company involved sports equipment, always popular. Then there was make-up, which can bring in a lot of revenue, particularly if the products are touted as containing special ingredients. (Hank did a lot of touting.)

Well, I’m certain you don’t need much encouraging to figure out how well all these business ventures went. They went almost nowhere. The “brand” as some would call it, wasn’t viable. Meaning, not appealing, not worthwhile, not quality. Most people are smarter than Hank. Too bad he couldn’t figure that out. What most people couldn’t fathom was how he would react to failure, particularly after his sacrifices in that far-away country full of heat and humidity. He had endured so much solely to be able to offer his ideas to others (meaning, to the deserving). He needed to consult with someone else.

Unfortunately, that someone else is a lunatic and is not sane. Hank, who at the moment does not have access to a wife, is in a rage. He needs his world and the love he deserves but has never received. He will kill to get his just desserts.

He will kill. Yes, you heard me correctly. We should talk about that. However, I’m a bit weary tonight, and need to choose my words wisely. When able, I - we - can choose the right ones. I’d like you to be there when that happens.