My Mind is Made Up

© 2014 Mr. David R. Dorrycott

Chapter Nine

Three weeks after I mailed my sample pages and outline an answer came in return. ‘Though we are very interested in your project, we have been notified that you have already sold the rights to your local newspaper The Lafayette Journal and Courier. When you create a new idea please do contact us first. Sincerely...’

Shock? Stunned? Horrified? Yes, all these and more. Mother and father read the letter, taking it from my shaking hands, then father asked me to please get the contest paperwork that I had signed. It was in my drawer of the desk I shared with my sisters so, numb, I soon returned with it. Now mother and father are simple farmers, but both are very used to reading the fine print in contracts. They noted that I had allowed ‘first publishing rights,’ a statement that I had to explain to them. Yet no where in that contract did it say anything about selling my rights to the idea.

By the next morning I was simply coldly angry, I wanted to gut someone. Father and mother kept me from school for the day, sending a note with my sister Charollett explaining that I was needed to deal with a legal problem in town. This time I paid the bus fare for all three of us, father took us first to a lawyer he had used often, getting him to look things over as a favor. He to came to the same conclusion, offering to see us through the problem for ‘three dollars and lunch.’ Hard work had earned me that money, hard grungy work and now I understood exactly why poor people rarely went to a lawyer, but I paid and I still owed my father half that as was the family agreement. So the four of us went to the newspaper office where it took half an hour to meet their lawyer.

“Miss Baker sold her rights when she accepted the ten dollar prize” the newspaper lawyer explained. “It was in the paper she signed to receive her money.”

“What ten dollars” I asked after my lawyer looked at me.

“Why, when they had the awards ceremony Miss Barker, were you asleep? I explained it myself.”

Very, very carefully I kept my temper. “I was not invited to any awards ceremony sir, I received not one penny from this newspaper and other than the initial first publishing rights contract I have signed nothing here.”

That set him back on his toes, he buzzed his secretary and had her bring in the files, which he went through until he found the one that had my name on it. “Yes you did Miss Baker, here is your signature.”

Heather Baker had at least one thing going for her before she gave it all up, her handwriting was a thing of beauty. What was on that paper looked to be a child’s scrawl, add to that it was slanted for a right handed writer and Heather, now I, was left handed and you had an obvious forgery.

“Mother, I think that we may now know where Mrs. Lanteen found that ten dollars that she offered me.” Opening the ragged little purse that I owned, a hand me down through both of my sisters, I took out several school papers, showing them first to my lawyer, watching the smile blossom on his face before he took them and laid them gently on the newspaper lawyers desk.

“One page is her copy of the entry contract Miss Baker signed” he explained, “The other two are English papers that she had to sign before turning them in for grading, now tell me sir, do any of these signatures look like the hen scratching on your contract?”

I think that the newspaper lawyer swallowed a raw rotten egg as his face went very, very pale. “But we have already printed two chapters of Mrs. Lanteen’s story using these characters, we can’t retract them.”

“Then you admit a forgery, yes?” my lawyer asked none to gently.

“Obviously, but who would do such a thing?”

My lawyer shook his head no, “That is for you and this newspaper to find out. We though are headed to Judge Mason’s offices to file a cease and desist order on those stories to start. Why, by the time I am through Miss Baker will probably own this newspaper.”

The other man simply looked sicker, “Let me talk to the Editor first...” He stopped talking as my lawyer, then we three stood. “Front page top banner public apology for stealing this young ladies copyrighted idea, being as you published her work it thus became copyrighted. Fire every and anyone involved, a telegram followed by a certified letter signed by the editor and owner of this paper sent today to the publishers of Most Interesting Stories explaining the truth and relinquishing any and all claim upon her work. To Miss Baker a check for damages, theft of intellectual rights and public humiliation, I think that two thousand dollars should be about right.”

“Two... Five hundred.” the other lawyer countered. His secretary, who had not left the room seemed to be paying quite a bit of attention to our conversation I noted. More than likely she was a gossip, I wouldn’t take bets that Mrs. Lanteen wouldn’t be getting a phone call very soon. I did note a very predatory look on my lawyers face, I knew that, from the paper I signed that he would get one third of any settlement, my parents knew that as well.

“Come Ladies, Mr. Baker.” my lawyer announced. “Judge Mason is a friend of mine, we might even get this building as well.”

“A thousand!” the other lawyer, who’s name had yet to be given announced.

“Fifteen hundred” my lawyer countered.

“Done, let me get Mr. Hilbron, he has to sign this off.” Turning to his secretary the newspaper lawyer waved towards her desk. “Get a contract typed up, in triplicate. A certified letter as well, you know as much now as I do and see if you can get Mrs. Keeling on the phone, she is going to want to know why her newspaper is paying someone fifteen hundred dollars and she isn’t getting anything out of it. And get me Mrs Lanteen’s contract, she’s probably going to be fired because of this.” He paused a moment, “And the runner up, see if you can get hold of him today, we are going to need a new story for Sunday’s paper.”

With a signal from my lawyer the four of us sat. Fifteen hundred dollars, there wasn’t a national tax yet, the King had vetoed the last three tries. Oh yes, no President, King Jones, a descendant for the first King John Paul Jones ruled. Anyway, fifteen hundred dollars minus my lawyers thirty three percent was one thousand dollars. Giving my family five hundred dollars, half of what the farm brought in a year, this left me with five hundred dollars. That was two years of college tuition, not that I qualified but I’d need to go eventually. It did insure that I would not have to buy a used typewriter, why I could even afford a phonograph for the family as a gift. Meanwhile we sat and waited, waited until the door flew open and a heavyset man wearing thick glasses stormed in.

What followed was a short, harsh argument between the newspapers head editor and the papers lawyer. Papers were shown, the editor stared at me a few seconds then back to the lawyer he went. It was an interesting conversation, what I could understand and it was fast. Then the Editor turned to face us. “I’m Mr. Hilbron, chief bottle washer for this place. A first retraction will be in tomorrow’s paper, front page Miss Baker” he explained. “I truly apologize for what has happened, though we don’t know yet who did this I don’t think that Mrs. Lanteen was involved, at least not at first. You say that you sent her a letter refusing to allow her to use your work?”

“I have a carbon copy with me sir” I allowed, pulling an envelope from my purse and offering it to him. He opened the unsealed envelope, read the signed carbon copy and nodded to himself before returning letter and envelope. “Paul, unless Lanteen can come up with an explanation she is fired, notify her by phone immediately then send me a letter to sign, I’ll mail it myself.”

“Yes sir” the newspaper lawyer answered quickly. Well, his name was Paul, it was a nice name even if wasted on a lawyer.

“Get those legal papers written up, signed and a check on my desk for me to sign by ten pm, that’s an hour. This is the last writing challenge we do until better, clearer rules are worked out.” Turning back to us the Editor-in-Chief smiled, though there was little humor in his eyes. “If you will excuse me, I have to go to my office and call the newspapers owner. She is going to be very angry, she and Mrs. Lanteen go all the way back to the third grade.” Then he was gone, as full of energy as he had been when he arrived.

“What will you do with your part of the settlement” my lawyer asked while we waited, the Newspaper Lawyer still at his desk.

“I want to go to college” I answered softly, “This will be a big help as I understand that I need about four thousand to complete four years.”

“Smart woman” my mother whispered, causing my lawyer to laugh.

So it ended that before school was out I had eaten lunch at a very expensive restaurant, at least for my family. I had been in a bank where the double signed cheque was cashed, my lawyer walking off with one third, I gave my father a third which he immediately used to pay off his latest farm loan and I kept the other five hundred, no farmer trusted a bank. We made one stop at a stationary store where I bought envelopes, paper, carbons and a brand new and very heavy Underwood. Then we went home in a taxi, none of us had ever been in a taxi.

Of course my grandmama demanded that I give my earning to the Church, her church, to thank God for his guidance in my terrible problem. My father looked at her and simply said “Bridget, I give you a place to live and food to eat because I love your daughter. But one more time you try to make me or mine do something for your church and by God I will horsewhip you.”

Grandmama looked at my mother, her daughter, only to have my mother say “I agree, now leave us raise our children.” You could have started a war with the hate in Grandmama’s eyes, I wouldn’t doubt that she would bag and baggage be gone in a month to ‘visit her youngest son’, a preacher Heather’s memories informed me. It turned out that she would stay, but I would no longer exist in her world.

Father showed me the best place and way to hide my money, warning me to never have more than two dollars on me at any time because people would want me to buy things for them. “Just tell them that I took all of your money and it will be better for you” he said as we reset the attic board. That I understood, having resource credits left at the end of a month always made you the best friend of certain people, it was certain that money would act the same way. At least Grandmama couldn’t get into the attic, she both had a fear of ladders and wasn’t strong enough in the first place.