You're Clear Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Acknowledgements

  Glossary

  About the Author

  You’re Clear

  JL LeGerrette

  © 2017 by JL LeGerrette

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the author. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and dialogues are products of the authors imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Febronia Publishing

  Contact the author at [email protected] or visit her blog site JLLeGerrette.com.

  Cover design by Cheri Lasota CheriLasota.com | [email protected].

  Dedication

  To the ones who loved me most and taught me how to love

  To the one whose blood lives within me, Mickey Jean Dodson-LeGerrette

  To the one who loved me as if hers did, Matilda Jane Dodson-Costa

  And to the one whose blood lives within my children, Theresa “Marie” Irwin-Fontyn

  I hope I’ve made you proud... on the other side

  Chapter 1

  The Beginning...

  of the

  Best, Worst Day of Her Life

  Jahnni pulled out of her driveway, popped in a CD, made the familiar turns out of her neighborhood, and cruised down the freeway—not thinking about anything in particular, just whatever came to mind. She liked the sweet respite of time alone with her thoughts before work.

  She’d set the clock on her dash five minutes fast to fool herself into never arriving late for anyone or anything. She’d also drawn a red line on her gas gauge at the one-third mark in permanent red marker. She had never run out of gas before and she didn’t plan to... ever. A little box in the center console held a journal with extra pens and sticky notes to record reminders and thoughts. Her glove compartment was stocked with a flashlight, a fog rag, deicer spray, a tire gauge, and winter gloves (with matching scarf), plus a small expandable umbrella. The trunk held a plastic roadside emergency kit she’d owned for years but never had a need for.

  Maybe it’s time to recheck it and get ready for winter, she noted to herself since the trunk popped into her mind. Summer is a great time to buy winter items, before supply and demand causes the price to go up. Another sticky note was added to the journal. Everything in her life was orderly, just how she liked it.

  An old CD of Jack Johnson sent notes dancing into her soul while the sun sparkled happiness into the car. The window was rolled down halfway, and she breathed in the fresh scent of another new, summer day. She smiled as she felt the gentle, rhythmic, ticking of life keeping time like a grandfather clock in the sky.

  Jahnni happily checked off her pending to-do list in her head. Her weekly supervisor report would be ready to submit after logging today’s events however they played out. The roster for the upcoming end-of-summer music bookings was ready for final approval with the Port of Portland. She enjoyed being on the committee that booked local musical talent to entertain passengers as they scurried through the airport. Four baby grand pianos were placed in different concourses, and there were stages for soloists, duos, and full bands who played classical, jazz, or even light rock. Jahnni was on the committee every season. Music in her ears was like blood to the veins. Life flowed and healed because of it.

  She loved her job and appreciated being at the airport with all its ever-changing, daily airline events. Every day was different and started out with controlled promise, but things always changed and Jahnni felt she couldn’t leave work on any given day if she wasn’t caught up, or if she was being honest, ahead of things.

  Jahnni parked in the airport employee parking lot and caught the employee bus to the terminal. When she arrived, she immediately exited the bus and walked briskly across the little roadway that lined the airport entrances. Before she entered the rotating doors, she paused to glance around and gauge the passenger loads by the number of cars and people-traffic hugging the curb. She wondered what fast-paced adventure they all might be embarking on.

  Jahnni felt proud that Portland International Airport, better known as PDX, was a favorite airport among travelers. Conde Nast magazine had named it the “favorite airport among business travelers” in the U.S. for several years in a row. Although part of the reason was the easily navigated concourses, she knew the real reason was that it was a beautiful airport. It was designed above a former underground water purification system, which incorporated the original skeletal framework into the airport’s underlying structure. This allowed the architects to design a beautiful, enormous, outdoor fountain that erupted, sending water into three cascading waterfalls that fed into three ponds. As did others, Jahnni liked to sit by the fountain during her breaks to take in the serene peace of the falling water.

  Jahnni started to walk past the Cart Man as he stepped toward a cart that had been left on the sidewalk. Called that because of his job tending the carts at the airport, Carlton was always dressed neatly in his uniform, and his kind gestures made him seem almost regal yet also approachable. She usually noticed him by the fountain in the early morning or late afternoon after his “cart runs.” Throughout the day, he always seemed to have a cart ready for some hapless person burdened by overstuffed bags, though his real job description was to gather up previously rented carts to return to the kiosk for the next number of passengers to rent.

  “How are you today, Carlton?” Jahnni asked, glancing at her watch as she slowed down to talk to him.

  Carlton smiled and ran his fingers across the escaping ribbons of salt and pepper curls, trying to push them back into the ponytail secured at the back of his neck. He used his kerchief to wipe the perspiration off his forehead.

  “I’m at the top of my game. The sun is gracing me with its company, and I can smell the bacon cooking in the food court,” he chuckled. “Why are you in such a hurry?”

  “I’m always in a hurry it seems,” Jahnni answered. “But, I’m loving the sunshine today too.” She squinted as she glanced up at the warm sun. “Hey, remember that story you were telling me about—the big airport renovation in the ’70s, and h
ow the huge water fountain in the food court was a result of what remained of the previous company that owned the land?”

  Carlton answered with an even bigger smile than he greeted her with. “Of course, what’s on your mind?”

  “Well,” Jahnni said, “I was thinking about that guy you mentioned, Zale Baptiste, the guy who owned the water purification plant that was first built here. It seems strange he isn’t mentioned in the chronological PDX transitions over the years. I stopped to look at the mural in the food court more closely, and in the first photos of just the land purchase that guy isn’t mentioned at all, yet there’s a picture of his water plant. If he was so important in the beginning, especially since it’s because of him we have the fountain’s plumbing, why would they leave that information out? Seems odd.”

  “There is always more to any story, Miss Jahnni. After working here and watching people day in and day out, you should know that!” He winked, his deep chuckle bubbling up and infecting people around them like a virus. Carlton continued, “At the time, the system was developed to run the water from the Columbia River, or use the water from the nearby underground well-field being tapped and developed. These waters were pumped directly into his underground water system. By the time the water snaked through the plant until it reached the final testing and containment site, a mere day could produce enough water to send out to all of Multnomah County and keep storage tanks filled, and he wasn’t even operating at capacity at the time.”

  Carlton dabbed at his forehead again and continued. “His long-term plan was to produce enough purified water to send shipments to areas in the United States that were perpetually hit by drought, or to areas with contaminated groundwater. As a follower of the Austrian naturalist and inventor Viktor Schauberger, he believed he could someday purify severely contaminated waters as well.”

  Jahnni glanced again at her watch. She looked up as another employee bus pulled up across the roadway and watched airport and airline employees spill out as they began their march through the crosswalk like busy ants with purpose. Her mind began to wander, I better tell Tammy she has a run in her tights. Oh look, the bus driver is changing buses. Hmmm... he must be taking the Long-term parking lot run now. I should ask Carolyn if she still needs me to write up the new security updates for the employee bulletin. I forgot my lunch! I can’t believe that! I forgot my lunch! I guess I’ll just grab something in the food court. Jahnni popped to attention when she realized Carlton was still talking.

  “...wanted to heal. Most poverty, he felt, could be eradicated, starting with clean water technology. You may have noticed that every nation mired in poverty does not have clean water,” Carlton finished saying as the words just now began to float into Jahnni’s ears.

  “Oh, yes, clean water. Always important,” she added. “Wait, I thought you said last week he was creating water for joggers? You know, because the 70’s were the enlightened era of jogging... and Jazzercise.” Jahnni swirled her hands in front of her like a dancing marionette and they both laughed.

  “Yes, that was his first level of business. But long range, he wanted to help resolve some of the water issues here in this country and then he hoped to, over time, export his water or the technology to other countries that had a shortage of healthy drinking water, but politics and greed forced his company to shut down.” Carlton explained further, “But what he truly wanted was to teach the people in these impoverished countries how to purify their own water, empowering them to build, and be self-sustaining. And then...”

  Jahnni started to worry about the time. She raised her arm and glanced at her watch. The to-do list in her head was growing longer, the closer she got to the airport door. Her foot began tapping with the tempo she used to alphabetize and memorize things until she could get to paper and pen. She noticed once again Carlton was still talking. “I’m sorry Carlton, I better get going. My mind is a flood of lists and the sooner I get started, the sooner I will complete every dot and tittle.”

  “Every dot and tittle?” Carlton asked teasingly, cocking his head forward, “That sounds like something from Sunday School.”

  Jahnni had turned to walk away but stopped and answered with jovial seriousness, “So that’s where I got that saying. You know me, dot every i and cross every t.” Jahnni enjoyed talking to Carlton when she had the extra time, which she really didn’t have right now. She often wondered why such a knowledgeable man spent so much time tending carts for the airport.

  Chapter 2

  And the Day Begins...

  Rather Normally

  Jahnni waved goodbye to Carlton then resumed her fast-paced stride into the entrance of the airport. As soon as the rotating door plunged her into the lobby, she hand-pressed her shirt, checked her belt, I.D. badge and work keys. Jahnni always presented herself with polished finesse. Her dad had always told her, “To be successful, you must dress the part,” and his advice, now that she was older and could appreciate it, had never let her down. I sure miss them, she thought, as the twang of their wonderful memory floated to the surface.

  She enjoyed all the perks that working at the airport gave her. Even though the free travel was available to her, there was always some reason or another why she wouldn’t follow her deepest longings and travel to the destinations she watched others embrace. Oh sure, she took the occasional hop to Disneyland for the day with a friend, or a quick jaunt to San Fran or Reno for a day or two. But not the long getaways that made you forget about the difficult things in life so a person could refuel. She longed to hop a plane, and go away... far, far away. She always told herself there would be other opportunities, and she would go soon enough. Besides, she couldn’t go alone, and all her friends were married or attached to work, kids or relationships. So, who could she go with anyway?

  She walked toward the ticket counter and glanced at her watch, again. She still had about ten minutes to spare to get clocked in for her last shift of the week. Suddenly, she found herself dancing back and forth to avoid being run over by a cart piled high with boxes labeled with the owner’s name and addressed to Taipei. She cleared the cart, only to look forward as another man in front of her pivoted in place, reversed his direction, and plowed right into her chest, head first. Caught unaware, it knocked the wind out of her for a moment and she staggered a bit to catch her balance. It surprised her when a loud breathy Ooof blasted out of her.

  They both started muttering ‘excuse me’ as she watched him step back. “Oh, my goodness. Are you okay?” she laughed as she backed up slightly. She extended her hand in case he needed support while he too caught his balance.

  “Ah, no. I mean yes. Of course, I am fine, thank you. I, ah, did not see you... or rather I did not know anyone was behind me when I realize I was going wrong direction. Please excuse me. I beg your pardon,” he stammered, a foreign accent revealing itself.

  And there he stood, in his brown-plaid suit, mumbling under his breath as he stepped back and forth trying to avoid another dance with her. His eyes wore the signs of anxiety, she thought. It was hard to tell. The lines in his face looked as though he used to smile and smile often, but time and age must have erased the opportunity for such a festive emotion. His silver hair was perfectly groomed as if he’d just returned that day from the barber. It was slicked back with pomade that was only slightly detected under his brown hat he was quickly replacing on his head.

  She couldn’t help but notice that the top of his head barely cleared her chin. Then again, she had been a little taller than most girls all her life. Glancing down before they waltzed apart, she noticed his highly polished brown leather shoes. She watched him hurry away and wondered about the slight twitch in his shoulder. A nervous traveler? she wondered. She turned and walked towards the offices behind the ticket counter to ‘clock in.’ Being the next supervisor coming on duty for First Class Air, tardiness won’t be tolerated. Especially in herself. Jahnni believed that she was tardy if she wasn’t ten to fifteen minutes early.

  As she walked through th
e door into the break room, she heard her name being called.

  “Oh, Jahnni,” Samantha screeched as she shuffled quickly toward her. Her eyes were sparkling and her lips were closed so tight, Jahnni wondered if a bird would fly out if she opened her mouth. “Guess what I’m going to do when I get off and get cleaned up tonight at 1700? Oh, don’t bother guessing,” Samantha said with a wave of her hand, dismissing the opportunity to play the guessing game. “I’m going on a date and I have to be ready by 1830. I think I’ve met the one.”

  Jahnni laughed as she glanced up and down at Samantha’s perfectly curled long blonde hair, fitted uniform and expensive work shoes. Like she needs to get cleaned up. She already looks like a perfect replica of Barbie, she noted. She looked at Sam’s pretty smile and sunshine eyes then answered teasingly, “Gee Sam, you’ve really managed to morph into an airline geek and wear the verbal uniform very quickly.” They both smiled, remembering the struggle Samantha had learning military time. “So, is this the pilot you rode with when he taxied the plane to the hangar last week?” Jahnni added.

  After thinking for a few moments to place his name, she began to explain, “Oh. No. That was, ahh... he was... hmm...” Samantha thought as she rolled her fingers across her chin several times before she gave up and said, “not Mr. Right after all. We just didn’t, I don’t know, click.”

  “Wait,” Jahnni said when something jogged her memory. “Is this the guy you dumped because he had a big... big toe?” Part of her didn’t want to know, but the curious side of her wanted to know everything. Jahnni knew Samantha always found something wrong with every guy she dated. Tonight, would be no different. She was sure of it. Since she had started working here about a year ago, her accumulative date total had more digits than a math test. Samantha was desperate to find Mr. Right. Jahnni worried that someday it was Sam that was going to get hurt instead of being the other way around. She only hoped Sam would find the one soon, so that ‘getting hurt’ didn’t happen to such a great person.