Race Riot by Carl Ehnis

Author:Carl Ehnis [Ehnis, Carl]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Carl Ehnis
Published: 2016-08-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifty-two

The Quarry

A Dunston quandary: Were Saturday morning runs part of a calculated strategy to diminish Dunston Thurmond’s stature in the eyes of his fellow club members? Even if that were the case, joining the running club, he decided, was a wise decision. Nina’s sister had insisted that Nina join with her because Michelle longed for the president’s attention. And with his divorce in the books, Dunston was further committed to being Nina’s exceptionally supportive running partner. Besides, Jill herself never missed a Saturday morning and Dunston thereby attained precious proximity to an intermediate-term project that continued to require careful and persistent cultivation. He didn’t know why he worked so hard at wooing such ordinary babes. It’s not like his phone had stopped ringing. Old girlfriends from B-school, his gym, from various social meets – even some who had forgotten his name when he was a lowly vice president – left ever-more breathless messages on his machine. Dunston wondered why they called and why they didn’t interest him more. Most were already married anyway. Some even had their own CEO or medical professional for a mate. It was flattering in a way.

The Saturday runs were Dunston’s favorite, despite certain unsummoned memories. Klaus kept a smart pace and, all things considered, the compact community of West Stemper with its contrasting verdant park lands, jewel box town center, tidy avenues chock-a-block with rows of tract homes and of course the extravagant palaces of his own neighborhood – many of which were obscured by last spring’s ferocious rainstorm – could be picturesque and diverting on a clear day. And Dunston also appreciated the great deals Klaus arranged by the Running Store for the latest in form-hugging running apparel that adorned the splendid figures of the three female joggers, not to mention Klaus himself, were Dunston so inclined.

In his role as head sheep dog, Klaus dropped back and let the other runners pass, assuring his flock that their forms were divine, their times respectable and that coffee and bran muffins awaited them at the finish. He lingered by Dunston and casually throttled down.

“You haven’t missed a Saturday run yet, that is good,” said Klaus.

“I guess I’m a creature of habit.”

“The shoes, they seem to be working for you. Your stride is much improved. I bet your splits are too, eh?” Dunston allowed a bashful grin and even poked Klaus on the arm good-naturedly. He picked that move up upon his elevation to CEO. The board members of the Great American, all luminaries in their various professional endeavors, indulged in a lot of poking and grabbing and holding—business as a contact sport. Seemed to set the proper collegial tone, so Dunston introduced a new physicality into his repertoire. He’s been poking Great American vice presidents, town council members, his mailman and he even poked Freeman on his last day in the office. By then the shock of Nick’s resignation had given way to relief that he would no longer have to wrangle with Nick’s exasperating deportment.

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