1 april 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2693: another closed polling station

Image by Virgo Gem from Pixabay

“See, none of this would happened if Cousin Astor had said 'gottagobye' to his own brain before calling here.”

“But, Grayson, it's kinda hard to hang up on your own mind.”

Six-year-old Grayson Ludlow pointed to the live news feed playing on his eleven-year-old big sister Eleanor's phone, on which their big cousin Astor Ludlow was raving like the lunatic he had just become, footage courtesy of the Lofton County Free Voice.

“Well, he's obviously done it now, so why couldn't he do it then, Ellie?”

“You do have a point, Grayson.”

“Ain't it the truth,” eight-year-old Gracie Trent said as she came to check it out while her eleven-year-old big sister Velma got the feed on her phone.

“It's really sad,” Grayson and Eleanor's seven-year-old sister Amanda said. “I wanted to save him, but, noooooooooooooooooooooo, he just wanted to act a fool some more!”

“It's September 4,” Amanda's ten-year-old brother Andrew said, “but Cousin Astor is out here like it is April 1.”

“Some people,” Velma said, “are on Michael Jackson time when it comes to April Fool's Day: they don't stop 'til they get enough.”

“But it's September 4 – that's five months and three whole days!” Andrew said.

“Look, Andy,” Velma said, “please get real. What kind of person do you have to be to know your grandfather and still call and pick a fight with him?”

“You do have a point there, Velma.”

“I don't know half the words y'all's cousin is using,” nine-year-old Milton said as he checked it out, “and I'm not supposed to know the other half, but his sentences aren't even working around his cussing any more! This man is literally having a complete meltdown!”

“He should have voluntarily grounded himself like we did and he would have been fine,” nine-year-old George Ludlow said.

“That's what I was trying to tell y'all!” Grayson said. “You just gottagobye and go sit down somewhere, and you don't end up like this!”

“And I. AM. HERE. FOR. IT!” eight-year-old Edwina Ludlow said, clapping her hands on every word. “Papa broke so bad on him Papa doesn't even have to be there – our own relative, threatening to take food out of the mouths of his own little cousins – he got what he deserved and I. AM. HERE. FOR. IT!”

“And so is just about everybody else in Lofton County – Tom's live feed is being picked up by all the local news channels,” nine-year-old Vertran Stepforth said as he came out of the Trent house. “But y'all turn all that screaming off and come in here to the big screen and get these comments – the comments are where it's at!”

Astor Ludlow had made his share of enemies with his high-handed ways, and many, many, many people were rejoicing at his reaction to really could have been a private matter had he not lost his mind in his wounded pride. Vanderbilt Ludlow, his own brother, the CEO of the Ludlow Winery, had convened the board that morning and informed them of Astor's calling to threaten their cousin, Capt. Robert Edward Ludlow Sr., with theft of recipes to shut the Ludlow Bubbly down, not knowing that Cousin Robert had the patents to both the Ludlow Bubbly and the Ludlow Winery's recipes. Cousin Robert, in turn, had shut the Ludlow Winery down in three hours with a cease-and-desist order that would not allow them to create or bottle their wines, and was demanding that Astor be dismissed from the board and two-thirds of the available cash to sell the Ludlow Winery the patents to the family recipes!

Astor, as a board member, was present, and let loose with an angry tirade about how their whole branch of the family was rolling over to the less important branches in the modern age, and how they all should refuse to cower down to a “soda pop vendor” on just the principle of the thing.

The other board members had looked on in horror and then asked Vanderbilt, as CEO, for his recommendation.

“In all honesty, the winery is probably gone either way,” he said. “We probably can't survive the year in these Covid conditions, but there is an outside chance that if we market right, we could still catch the holiday bump because we know folks are going to gather no matter what the rules are. But if we don't get out from under this cease-and-desist letter, we won't survive the week.”

Then, Vanderbilt Ludlow set his jaw.

“According to the bylaws set up by Tarquin Ludlow, a board member may be dismissed for conduct unbecoming of a Ludlow gentleman, in addition to conduct that endangers the winery itself. I think we have seen one example just now, and in providing that example, Astor has not denied the second one.”

“Vanderbilt – how could you!”

“Not my fault you don't read or check in with anyone before you run your mouth, Astor. Mama always told you it would be your undoing.”

The board voted, 15 votes to Astor's 1, to remove Astor from the board – so, it was done, effective immediately. Astor refused to leave.

“Security!” Vanderbilt called, and had his brother removed from the winery building, where he was raving outside, Tom Stepforth from the Lofton County Free Voice following him out … the 16-year-old reporter had gotten in as a delivery boy and had captured audio of everything, and then just perched himself in a nearby tree and gone live to also catch Astor Ludlow's spectacular meltdown.

Meanwhile, the board authorized Vanderbilt to negotiate with Capt. Ludlow, first to ask for a long lease of the patents and then to buy them at the named price if necessary.

Hence, Capt. Ludlow was not on the live feed watching Astor's catastrophe; he was holding his sleeping baby grandson, five-year-old Robert Edward Ludlow III, and waiting for Vanderbilt's call. The call duly happened, and went well.

“The main portion of what I required is done, Vanderbilt. With Astor no longer on the board, the Ludlow Winery is no longer an enemy. Take the amount I demanded for the sale and divide by 20; pay me that amount per year to lease the patents for the next 20 years.”

“We're struggling to be here in the next 20 weeks, Robert,” Vanderbilt said, “but this gives us a slim chance.”

“I'll also go in with the Ludlow Winery on your excess capacity of grapes … shall we call it Grape Crush Soda?”

“Are you serious?”

“I told you it was a delicious idea, Vanderbilt, and my partners like it too.”

“That gives us a fighting chance – I'll draw it all up and have it to you in three hours!”

“I'll be here, Vanderbilt. A pleasure doing business with you, cousin.”

Capt. Ludlow called Sgt. Vincent Trent, his main business partner in the Ludlow Bubbly, to let him know the Grape Crush Soda deal was going through, and Sgt. Trent took down the details and then walked out into his living room and saw every kid but Lil' Robert Ludlow watching the comments fly by on Astor Ludlow's fall … and then the sergeant started laughing as he went into the kitchen.

“Melissa,” he said to Mrs. Trent, “it must be something in the September air – you know how that supervisor who was about to get our neighbors killed was flipping out on Tom's live the other day? It must be catching – too many of these big wigs are going down!”

Mrs. Trent shook her head.

“It's about to get worse – that growing sinkhole hasn't stopped moving, and just ate the polling place down there, so you know Pop-Pop is on the phone with James Varick about to put the whole history of voter suppression in Lofton County out there in the Free Voice and talk about 'another closed polling station in Lofton County – because they who dig pits are falling into them!'”

Sgt. Trent shook his head.

“Oh, Astor Ludlow is just the warmup, then – it's about to be a whole bunch of people his age and type raving in the streets!”

“Well, daughter Velma called it,” Mrs. Trent said. “Some people have been on the foolery like Michael Jackson's 'Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough.' A whole lot of them are overdue to get enough, and I guess it's all happening this week!”

“Say, Vanna,” Sgt. Trent said to his eldest daughter, “are we good on popcorn?”

“Yep,” she said. “I'm just getting my seasoning ready because you know Col. Lee is going to that supervisor meeting tonight, right?”

“Yes, daughter, that's why I was checking,” the sergeant said. “New soda, popcorn, and good deals for some, and falling into pits dug for other people for some others – like my father always said, it pays to live right!”