Parker's Folly Read Online Free PDF Page B

called to JT, then pressing the button and speaking loudly into the box: “Hello, anyone there?”
    “Hola, who is there?” came the answer in a female voice with a pronounced Spanish accent.
    “Hola Señora , this is Susan Write with KWTEX news. I called earlier and made an appointment to see Mr Parker.”
    “Si, please drive up to the house. I will tell Señor Parker that you are here.”
    “Thank you,” Susan said, but the only answer was a burst of static. “OK, now what happens?” she shouted to JT on the other side of the still idling van. With a clank, the gate opened and swung smoothly, almost silently aside.
    “That gate may look like crap, but it is obviously well maintained,” JT observed, adding with mock seriousness, “perhaps things around here are not what they seem.”
    “If you mean a broken down ranch in the middle of the West Texas desert scrub, I reserve judgment until we see the inside of the house. Now drive, before the gate swings back shut.”
    * * * * *
    As they pulled up to the front of the ranch house the front door opened. A middle aged Hispanic woman wearing a kitchen apron appeared in the doorway and beckoned them in. Exiting the van, JT went around to the back to get his camera rig. Then, together they approached the portal.
    “Hi, I'm Susan Write and this” Susan said, motioning to her partner, “is JT, my camera man.”
    “Welcome,” the woman said, “I am Maria, Señor Parker's housekeeper and cook. Please follow me. Señor Parker is in his study.”
    Maria led them through the living room, past a breakfast nook and adjoining family room and to the door of Parker's study. The house was much larger than it appeared from the outside, probably around 4,000 sq ft. They also noticed that all of the doors were  wider than normal and that all the sills in the doorways were almost flat.
    Knocking on the study door, then opening it without waiting for a response, Maria announced them. “ Señorita Write and party, Señor Parker.”  Smiling, she turned and motioned them inside.
    An old man with an unruly shock of white hair looked up from the papers on his desk and waved with one hand. “Welcome” he said. There was a muted whine of electric motors and the man pivoted sideways. Then he smoothly moved around the heavy wooden desk, rolling forward to greet them. If that was not enough of a shock—they had not been warned that TK Parker was wheelchair bound—when the chair stopped in front of them Parker, wheelchair and all, stood up and extended his hand.
    Susan, news professional that she was, didn't miss a beat. She grasped the proffered hand with a firm grip and shook it, the way Texan's do. The firm handshake was something she had learned early in life. Some women just stick their hand out like a limp, dead fish when shaking hands. Susan shook hands like she meant it, like she was the other man's equal. She could see Parker sizing her up, with a twinkle in his pale blue-gray eyes.
    “Mr. Parker, I'm Susan Write from KWTEX News, and this is my cameraman Jim Taylor,” she said motioning to JT who was standing  behind her, camera dangling from his left hand.
    “Nice to meet you, Jim,” Parker said. As he leaned forward to shake JT's hand the motorized chair, now balancing on two wheels, moved closer to him as if by telepathic control. “Welcome to my spread, have a seat. As you can see, I already have one.”
    As he uttered the last sentence, his wheelchair collapsed on itself, lowering him back to a seated position. Parker whirled about and reclaimed his position behind the desk.
    “Call me JT, Mr. Parker,” said the camera man. “That's some wheelchair you have there. I've never seen anything like it.”
    “Call me TK, son, everybody does. Yeah, this little beauty is an iBot. It was design back in the 00s by Dean Kamen, same guy who designed the Segway.”
    “Segway, that two wheeled, standup scooter you see mall cops whizzing around on?” asked Susan, trying to