Beyond Cuckoo

I’ve had a few offers from friends to critique and offer suggestions for my inaugural attempt at a long fictional work. River Agosto is a cocky broad who takes no shit. She has affinity for the bad boys and is regularly screwed by them in traditional and  non-traditional ways–yet she’s magnetically attracted. Her job as an government environmental geologist is a constant annoyance. She bucks the system at every twist and turn, often to her demise. Will she win in the end or be destroyed? So, here’s a quick sketch for the opening paragraphs. I welcome comments, which you can make here, on the contact page, or email me directly at Elaine@mediadesign-mds.com . The payoff for your help? A listing in the credits of the book, movie and/or TV series. 😎

The Setup

River’s fear of attack from behind wouldn’t allow for the use of ear buds to muffle the mindless chatter in the office. In an attempt to control the time wasters, Dusty Cooke and Rochelle Stone regularly circled the area. Their self-imposed deadline for the environmental impact report made River uncomfortable. They had never pushed this hard before. River had the phone signal turned down, but each time it rang, she jumped.

“Something’s wrong here,” Dusty’s voice bellowed from the receiver.

“Wrong?” River said knowing that even if it wasn’t her fault that she would be blamed for anything askew.

“You’ve got to go out to the excavation site tomorrow and check the soil samples. The salt levels can’t be this high. You’ve got to verify that the range is normal, or they’ll never let us finish the canals.”

“I double checked the numbers yesterday and they were accurate,”

“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted a greenie with this. I bet you sabotaged the data for the sake of saving some tortoises.”

The term greenie was Dusty’s slang for environmentalists and River was tired of the constant ridicule; but before she could let Dusty have it, she felt a tap from behind. It was Rochelle.

“Is that Dusty on the phone?”

“Hold on Dusty, Rochelle’s here,” River quipped and handed Rochelle the receiver.

“Hi darlin’, is there a problem with the construction site? Too much salt?  Well, we’ll tweak the numbers. What? A demonstration? Shit, this better not make the news. We’ve got to send someone who can talk green. Yeah, I guess River is it. I’ll talk to her about the money—she’ll do it. Huh? No worries, I’ll come by your office later.”

Rochelle hit end call. “Okay everyone, we need to have a quick meeting,” she announced to the rest of the cubicle row. “Conference Room C, now.”

Sadie, Jack and Opal filed out of their assigned pods as ordered, down the hall and into Room C without a word. They knew better than to question Rochelle, especially if they ever wanted to see bigger paychecks and private offices. River followed reluctantly.

“Okay everyone, here’s the scoop. As usual, it’s all about water and we have to prove that our canals won’t hurt, but help, the area. I’m sending River to personally take soil samples. Sadie, book her a flight to Albuquerque as soon as you can get her there. She’ll need a four wheel drive truck. Jack, pack her a sample bag and Opal transfer all the files to a laptop.”

The group scurried to their assignments. River glared at Rochelle. “This is kinda sudden, isn’t it? You want me to drop my life and run off on this whim of yours?”

“Look sweetie,” Rochelle started.

“I told you, my name is River.”

 “Okay, River,” Rochelle said softening her tone. “There’s money in this, lots of it and some of it could be yours.”

“How much money?” River also softened.

“You help us tweak a few reports, alter a few numbers and come out squeaky clean for the EPA and I’ll make sure you can move out of that hovel you call an apartment.  How would you feel about Cahuilla Hills? Maybe meet a Palm Desert hunk with a bank account and horses? It could be nice.”

River arrived on a flight from Palm Springs to Albuquerque at 9:00 P.M. Wednesday, November 11, 2015.