Lavender

Daniel Henderson

Description

Set in the early 2000's before cellphones and social media ruled the world. Lavender is an examination of an unlikely insurance agent sweating from the night's excesses, haunted by the memory of his dead wife and forced to face the realization that she committed suicide within the first two years of her insurance policy and thus did not pay him anything.

In addition Dave is haunted by visions of his dead wife and strange surrealistic flashes that seem to indicate that what he believes is real may not be.

Lavender examines the world of insurance and annuities from the perspective of a grieving unbalanced individual who is not capable of taking care of himself, much less helping anyone else. A touch Catch 22 with a bit of Ellis and Palahniuk blended into a simple story that asks is surviving worth it.

Sujets

• Policier & Thriller
• Thriller
• Thrillers
• Supernatural
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: eBookIt.com
• Date de parution: 14 février 2018
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781456630522
• Langue: English

Extrait

Lavender
 
 
by
Daniel Henderson
Copyright 2018 Daniel Henderson,
All rights reserved.
 
 
Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com
http://www.eBookIt.com
 
 
ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-3052-2
 
 
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
Table of Contents
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1
Slowly Dave stood up, sweat beading down his forehead and along his beard stubbled face. He pushed the image of Kate away, swallowing tremors and steadying his feet. Grabbing his coat he threw it on, then grabbed his yellow notepad and closed the door. Slowly his feet began to move, one in front of the other. The scent of her body lotion was on his lips, his hair wet with perspiration. With each small movement he saw that the country club was getting closer. He stepped in front of a car but it did not hit him. He felt her arms around him, holding him, caressing him, arousing him even now. Dave kept his eyes trained on the ground, watching each black leather foot move slowly in front of the other until he was at the door. Reaching with his right hand he gripped the door handle and pulled, he felt her touch his arm, felt her skin, her warmth, her fingernails dig in a little. And then the door was open and she left. A flood of cool air enveloped him as he stepped into the building.
He turned to the left, facing down a small hallway full of pictures and old paintings. Oriental rugs guided him to the conference room he assumed the meeting was going on in. The hallway opened into another room, to the left a conference room with closed doors and hapless muttering going on. To the right what looked to be the beginnings of a rehearsal dinner, or reception, or something. Kate glanced at him quickly through an old photograph of her in her white wedding gown. Closing his eyes he turned and opened the door to the convention room. He stepped inside and in front of what must have been the speaker. For a moment Dave froze in front of the audience of insurance salesman. The speaker stopped talking and stared at him. Dave willed his feet to move and he searched for a seat. As soon as he began to move the salesman began to speak again on what must be a lecture on why annuities are the most important piece to one’s financial success, and thus the key to happiness.
“So, I tell you an annuity is the place you need to put your clients in right now. With this kind of market you need insurance, you need to insure your client’s money.”
Dave scanned the room quickly and found a seat next to a round pink man who sat smiling.
“And you need to tell your client, Mr. Client, you have a money making machine in your basement, and you have no guards. You need guards, you want guards, to protect this money making machine in case someone tries to hurt it. Imagine, Mr. or Mrs. Client, that the money machine breaks down, wouldn’t you want insurance to fix the machine so that your wife and children could live happily? Wouldn’t you be concerned about their current lifestyle, their current wants and needs. Would you want to take away from them their way of life simply because you didn’t think you needed insurance on your money making machine?”
“Hell no.”
Someone actually responded to that, I thought it was rhetorical. Can I get an Amen?
“That’s right, you wouldn’t want to live without insuring such a valuable piece of equipment. Hell I would have armed guards around it all the time. Well, Mr. or Mrs. Client. You are the money making machine.”
This shit is getting really deep.
“I say you are that machine, and you are walking around without insurance. What if on your way home tonight you are killed in a car wreck, well if you don’t have life insurance your family is out of luck. They can say thanks for nothing. But if you insure your money making machine, that is you, Mr. or Mrs. Client, then your insurance man will bring your family a check to the funeral and give it to your family. Can someone in the room tell these younger associates what it is like to bring a death benefit check to a grieving widow?”
“Yeh, I can tell you that it is probably the single most greatest thing you can do in our profession, bringing a check to a woman who just lost her husband can be very powerful and moving. The tears of joy she sheds and the thank you’s you get when you give her that check are enormous. It’s like in some important way you have changed this lady’s life, that she will always remember you and you hold a special place in her heart,” said a short man in the front of the room.
And I bet it’s a lot easier to get her in bed once you’ve given her a check that pays for her husband. Maybe put it under the pillow when you leave, or if that’s too forward just stick it on the nightstand. Course you can come back and take it back if she doesn’t send you a thank you note.
“David.”
What, huh, fuck, surely not me.
“David, could you please tell some of the people in the room what it was like to lose your wife and be able to get a check that would buy you time. A check that helped you bury her and move on with your life. Maybe even pay some bills and some debt that otherwise would not have been paid?”
Who the fuck is this guy?
“I, umm, didn’t receive a check.”
“I’m sorry, you didn’t insure your wife?”
“No, I mean yes, she killed herself within the two year period.”
“Oh, I see, well let that be a lesson to everyone. Be sure to tell your spouse to off herself after the two year waiting period.” Quiet laughter filled the room. Dave stared ahead.
“Ok, well, can you tell us how it would have helped you if she would have killed herself after the two year waiting period?”
Dave stared at the man for a long time then responded, “It would have helped.”
“Can you go into it further, tell us how it worked, how long it took to get the check and how you felt when you received the check.”
Dave stared at the annuity man, wondering if he remembered that he had actually never received a check. Then he closed his eyes and imagined the wonders and beauty of making money off of his wife’s suicide.
“I, well, it took less than a week from when she died to receive the check. I was sitting on the floor in my house when someone rang the doorbell. My manager, Mr. Mirer, was standing there with a check in one hand and a bottle of what looked like wine in the other. I welcomed him in and we walked to the kitchen. It was when we reached the kitchen that I realized that he was carrying sparkling water, and not wine. It wasn’t even good sparkling water, Sam’s club or some shit like that. If I can recommend anything bring liquor with you, or at least Pellegrino.”
Dave remembered Mr. Mirer showing up with a bottle of sparkling water and no check.
“David, please avoid using profanity. We have ladies in the room.”
Ladies? What the hell does that mean.
“Uh, sorry. Anyway he said I have the check for your wife’s insurance. He handed me an envelope and I opened it, inside was the full 300k of insurance that I wrote on her. The first thing I thought was that I had 600k on my life.”
“So in the midst of your sorrow you thought that you should have insured her for more money? I think this is common in these types of things, no matter how much insurance we sell there is never enough.”
Actually I was thinking she should have waited two fucking years.
“No, not really. I mean, yeh, more money would have been great, more than 300k and I don’t think I would be here with you now. But that’s not what I was thinking, I was thinking I wish I had died so she was getting 600k. But that’s selfish and I would never put her through that.”
If she’d waited two fucking years I would be in a comfy heroin den and away from all of this.
“I see, well please go on and tell us how the money helped you and how it made you feel.”
“I paid off my debt, my house, just about everything. I paid for her funeral, I paid to have my car that she was driving towed back to my house and put in my garage. I spent money on a lot of things, good drugs, alcohol and loose women.”
“What was that?”
“I’m sorry, I’m rambling. If you had called on me to talk in front of everyone three weeks ago I would have muttered a bit, then thrown up in my lap, maybe just shot myself. Now I’m here talking in front of everyone, rambling at that.”
“So the money gave you confidence? Gave you the ability to move on with your life, to find new strength?”
Losing it, end this thing.
“Uh, sure. Yeh it was great, insurance saved me.”
This was surely some sort of blasphemy. I’m starting to believe I received the money.
The room echoed with applause, a couple of people stood up and clapped, Dave felt a few hands caress his shoulder. The room went black and began to spin, the clapping echoing all around him. Opening his eyes black stars danced around him and the man in the front of the room had gone on to talking about something else.
Gotta get out of this fucking place, shit. Going to throw up.
Dave fumbled out of his seat, lurched forward and into the closed door of the conference room. The man in the front of the room stopped talking and must have stood there for hours, looking at the door, not understanding what Dave was doing, when another associate, Todd I think his name is, stood and opened the door for Dave.
“Thanks.”
“Sure, you ok.”
“Nah, I’m fine.” Disoriented Dave spilled out of the room and into the bright white room where surely a reception would be occurring soon. But it is Friday so maybe a rehearsal dinner. Maybe it didn’t matter, maybe he should just get to the bathroom before he throws up on the floor.
Running down the hall Dave made it to the bathroom. He ran into a closed stall that mus