The Scams of the Father

Harvey Carter exited his limo and gazed up at the blue and red striped tent. “Keep the car running, I don’t want to be here any longer than necessary,” He said to the driver. He took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders before moving the entrance flap to the side and entering.

“Harvey, it’s so good to see you,” A soft, melodic voice called out. A tall woman approached him, her curvaceous body poured into a tight fitting black and white corset. Her chestnut hair shone under the spotlights.

Even with all of that, the only thing Harvey could focus on was her thick brown bush of a beard.

The woman opened her arms and moved in to embrace the smaller, business suit clad man.

Harvey took a quick step back and extended his hand to shake. “Hello, Martha, it’s been a while,” he said.

The woman sighed before shaking his hand. “I guess it’s too much of a stretch to think you’re here just for a visit?”

“Hardly. My lawyers informed me that my father left some items for me before his passing. I would have sent one of my assistants but,” he scrunched up his nose as he saw a several cockroaches scurrying along the wall, “I thought it better that we keep this matter private.”

“Yeah your dad has some stuff for you in his dressing room. I’ll go get it.” she walked out of the tent and returned a few minutes later carrying a hefty, wooden chest. She placed it down with a grunt.

“What is it?”

“Some of your old stuff, baby toys, race cars, all that junk.” She snatched a vanilla colored envelope off the top of it. “It also came with this.”

He took the envelope. “It’s probably full of his dirty money”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“Everything is wrong with that. I don’t want money that my father lied and cheated people to get. It’s deplorable.”

“You know your father may have been a con man, but he was the best damn con man I’ve ever met.”

“And I suppose I should be proud of that?”

“You should be thankful for that!” she said, pointing at him. “Open the damn envelope.”

He broke the wax seal on the envelope and pulled out a stack of papers. “It’s a list of a bunch of his scams. He recorded how much money he got off of each one.”

“Yes, and on the other side he lists how every single dollar of that was spent on you,” she said, pointing back to the chest, “and the crap in that chest.”

Harvey flipped the list over and scanned it back and forth.

“You wanna know something kid? I never liked you. Ever since you were little I knew you’d grow up to be an ungrateful little shit.” She snatched the papers out of his hands. “But your father loved you enough to work himself into the grave trying to give you the best life could offer. You got no right to judge how he did it!”

Harvey averted his gaze and scratched his wrist. “I-I’ll send my people back to pick up the chest,” he said. He turned around and quickly exited the tent.

“Where to sir?” the driver asked.

“The cemetery…about 3 miles east from here,” he said, taking one last look at the tent before rolling up his window.