On a Cold Kentucky Night

By Meggie

The rain fell softly upon the black car, creating a rhythmic sound beckoning calmness and tranquility after the day’s earlier media and legal spectacle.  It had been a very long day.  State police cars escorting him to the Pascagoula, Mississippi courthouse where even more of them waited outside.  Cameras flashing and microphones and recorders shoved in his face as questions were shouted by reporters covering every inch of space around him as he entered the courthouse.  Once inside, the circus of events continued.  His deposition provided “insider information” detailing his time working as a Vice President for Research and Development at Brown & Williamson, where he thought he could help develop a “safer” cigarette.   

Safer, he snorted.  Whatever “good” he thought he could offer B&W with their mass production of cigarettes quickly turned into a cat-and-mouse game.  He told the truth that day, inside an overcrowded and hot Mississippi courthouse, determined not to be forced into silence any longer with death threats, a smear campaign, and other ludicrous forms of intimidation against him and his family.  No, he would not be forced into silent submission any longer.  So Jeffrey Wigand, in extensive details, divested information how B&W and other tobacco companies were manipulating the nicotine level in cigarettes by adding cancer causing agents, along with including addictive substances, all to keep the smoker addicted and buying more and more. 

He sighed deeply, sinking into the plush backseat where his mind continued to play over and over every sound, sight, smell, and touch during his deposition.  Off to his right, Jeffrey tried to focus on something else to ease his rambling thoughts.  Highway and construction signs, bridges, other passing cars, everything, yet nothing seemed to help.  He could still see and hear the tobacco lawyers, like hounds from Hell, ranting and foaming at the mouth, each one eager to rip and shred his integrity while silencing the truth.  The tobacco lawyers continue their assault, bombarding Jeffrey with threats, with trick questions, and with insidious accusations, all the time reveling in the fact they could intimidate him to remain simply silent.    

Simply.  An understatement, he thought.  Passing through downtown Louisville, his attention was suddenly drawn to the site of a burning car on the shoulder of the freeway.  Flames engulfed the entire vehicle, the blaze flickering and stretching high into the night air.  For some reason, this image captured his attention, not allowing him to turn away from the hot flames.  Could this be a possible omen of things yet to happen?  Of how his world would soon become engulfed by a fire so strong, so devastating, that no one would be left untouched or unscathed?  

Nearing his home, a slight smile spread across his face and remained while the dark sedan rolled to a stop.  Home.  His body and heart ached to have his two girls in his arms, their small and beautiful faces looking up into his.  And Liane, whose support and love he so desperately needed.  Upon entering the front door, Jeffrey instantly could feel a sudden coldness in the air.  Quickly, he started towards the back bedrooms, searching for Liane.  Instead, he discovered she had taken all of her belongings except for the framed photograph of Barbara and Deborah on the dresser table.  Turning around, he next checked the girls’ bedroom to discover no toys, no clothes.  Nothing.   

Jeffrey whirled around, this time heading straight to the kitchen area where a white envelope addressed “Jeffrey” sat.  What was this?  His hands snatched it up quickly, starting to shake from fear and apprehension.  As he began to read the note, Jeffrey quickly became overcome with loss, desperation, and helplessness.  Sitting down in a nearby chair, the note still clutched in his trembling hands, he tried to make sense of the words in front of him.  But the words kept tumbling over and over in his mind, each time slicing deeper into his heart until total coldness and silence consumed his soul.  

Jeffrey, 

I don’t know how to make this situation right or even what to say or do anymore.  By time you read this letter, both I and the girls will be gone. I would say I’m sorry, or, let’s try one more time…but, you know we both have been down this road together.  You can’t fix what’s already broken and shattered into a thousand pieces.  And that is how I see our marriage and relationship.   

I tried, oh I tried to stand by you and support you, to save our marriage.  The stress and danger you chose to put us through cannot be erased from my heart and mind.  You promised more time for us, with the girls.  How you’d be happier with your new teaching job and how everything would be better.   Well, you lied, Jeffrey, you lied to me about it all.   You only thought of yourself, not us, not the girls.  Jeffrey, they threatened to kill us!  And you still insisted on doing “the right thing” at the expense of our family.          

Your inability to confide in me after 10 years of marriage and the birth of our two beautiful daughters breaks my heart.  But what hurts even more is the deception, this “all-or-nothing” game you played because you felt it was more important than anything, even our family.  Like dinner at New York.  You lied yet again! You never said a word about that damn CBS interview until at the table that night.  My God, Jeffrey, I had to hear it from a stranger what you planned on doing.  What about us?  Did you ever stop to think how this final stunt of yours would affect us? 

No more, Jeffrey.  Please, for the sake of the girls, do not try to find us.  I need some peace, some stability and safety.  And the girls do, too.  If you ever loved me, love Debbie and Barbara, then leave us alone.  Fight this battle on your own, but leave us out of the way of wreckage and danger.  

I have already contacted a divorce attorney to begin the process.  Please, Jeffrey, for once think of me and sign the papers.    

~Liane 

Looking up, the image of the burning car reappeared in his mind, like watching a scene from a movie in slow motion.  The fire had spread into his life, his heart, and soul, consuming everything important in his life.  And yet, how funny it still felt like one cold Kentucky night.