Mr. Cooter's Bowling Ball

by Harper Harris

  “So, Lonny, John, and I were so sick of seeing Michelle’s hideous artwork all over Appleton. If she wasn’t the mayor’s wife, then no one would ever display her stuff. Everyone in town knows this, but no one says anything because it’s what the mayor wants.”

  Oh, so Cooter wasn’t a fan of Michelle’s painting… That was a little unfortunate for her.

  “So, the three of us hatched a plan in the hopes of embarrassing her enough into stopping. John knew that she was dumb as rock and that the best way to manipulate her was through her massive ego.”

  I had to admit, that was true. A little mean and blunt, but true.

  “So, yeah, John came up with the whole Art Revolt, the streets are the people’s canvas, artists are the beautifiers of the world, blah blah blah. I fed that nonsense to Michelle and she fell for it hook, line, and sinker. We got her to paint the mural and I guess you know the rest.”

  Ooo, that was mean-spirited, but I could understand the desire to bring Michelle down a peg. She definitely thought rather highly of herself even though she hadn’t really earned it. I would wager a guess that people throughout her life just complimented her since she was a part of one of Appleton’s most prominent families and then marrying the mayor added more fuel to the fire because no one wanted to get on his bad side and he’d do anything to please his wife. A vicious cycle. But wait just a second…

  “You said John?” I asked and Cooter nodded. “Are you talking about John Goodstone?”

  “Yeah, we were all bowling buddies and fellow art lovers.”

  I couldn’t imagine John doing something so underhanded. He always seemed so quiet and unassuming. Did he really come up with the entire plan? I wasn’t doubting Cooter’s recount of events, but it was just taking me a bit of time to comprehend it all.

  “Interesting.”

  “I guess,” he shrugged. “The entire thing backfired, anyway. Lonny and I were ready to sweat out the vandalism charge for thirty days or so. We’d been arrested before and we just didn’t think of it as a big deal, but the oily mayor got involved and made everything go away before any of it could go public. John was livid. I mean, he didn’t even get into any trouble, but he hasn’t spoken to me since. And to top it all off, Michelle was actually ‘inspired’ by the whole thing and now even more of her art is on display in the town than before. And I had to keep my promise to her. There was no way Lonny and I would admit the plan and risk the wrath of the mayor or her. So, she rifles through my dang dump whenever she wants.”

  He sighed loudly and rolled his eyes. I found the entire tale to be highly amusing. It made for a great story.

  “I can’t believe you guys went to all that trouble and, in the end, it didn’t even work out. I’m guessing you all learned your lesson?”

  Cooter shrugged. I was sure they did. Cooter seemed to keep to himself.

  “It was whatever. It was meant to be a bit of fun that would hopefully lead to something beneficial for my friends and me. I just try to ignore the statues when I’m in town, so did Lonny. I don’t know what John does.”

  I shook my head. I couldn’t be angry at him anymore. Maybe he didn’t want to tell me because he was embarrassed by how much the plan failed. They were actually part of the reason why Michelle had so many statues in town. She was probably living by the motto Cooter taught her – that artists were here to make the world their canvas and such.

  I wondered how he maintained the lie now. From the way Michelle talked, she really thought they were friends. She probably chalked up his indifference to his oddness. And he still let her go through the dump, a privilege no one else had. I did feel a little bad for her, but she didn’t know about the trick, so ignorance really was bliss for her. In the end, it just ended up being a funny story that I got to hear years after the fact.

  I was happy that I got the full story finally and it was a good retold tale, but it ended up not being helpful really. At least I knew that I didn’t have to explore that avenue anymore, but I wasn’t any closer to solving Cooter’s case. I had to go back to the beginning and reevaluate what I knew in order to know where I should go next.

  “Well, thanks for the very amusing tale, Coot. I have to get going back to work and all. I promise to come and visit you again soon. Enjoy the coffee.”

  He gave me a small salute and I gathered my things.

  I was about to leave, but then stopped myself. “I forgot to ask if you liked the playlist I made?”

  “I did. You really tuned into my kind of music.”

  I got a big smile on my face. I really wanted to impress Cooter and even though he was in jail and even though he had frustrated me to the moon, I still got a bit of excitement from making a great playlist.

  I said goodbye to him and then Shortbread and I left.

  Chapter Eleven

  Friday

  After I left the Sheriff’s station, I ran off to work. I wasn’t late or anything, but I didn’t want to waste any time. I was sitting with Shortbread in my office and I had all the files I needed stacked up on my desk. I realized there wasn’t much else I could do concerning Cooter’s case right then.

  Maybe Cranston was right, and I should just let the cops do their job. Getting Cooter out of jail wasn’t really a priority. He kind of wanted to be there. Like he said, spending a few days in jail wasn’t such a big deal to him. Ash had been another whole story. Every day there for her felt horrible, but Cooter made it seem like a vacation. I could just work on getting the charges dropped or getting Cooter acquitted, which was the job I actually volunteered for. If I focused on that more, I wouldn’t be so pressed for time and I could actually start working on this in my off hours.

  So, I got to work. Or I tried to. I just couldn’t get my brain to stop looking for more insight into Cooter’s case. I liked solving puzzles. Was it a gift or curse? I didn’t know, but I got right back to trying to figure the whole thing out.

  I had the postcard pieces in a baggy in my purse. I got some tweezers out and carefully removed each piece. I didn’t want to disturb anything more than I already had. I did my best to arrange them, but I didn’t have enough to form a full picture. What I did end up with was part of a capital ‘B’ and a piece that matched the font of a lowercase ‘g’ on another. It also looked like someone might have written something on it, but I couldn’t identify the words.

  Who even knew if these pieces of paper meant anything? I’d picked them up because of their proximity to where Lonny’s body was found, and they appeared to have what I thought was blood on them. But was it even blood? I could try giving it to Sheriff Cranston again, but he probably wouldn’t even take me seriously. He didn’t the first time and I hadn’t done anything to make what I had more convincing.

  Anyway, it would take weeks to for a DNA test. I didn’t have that kind of time or patience. And, honestly, with my luck, it’d end up being chocolate sauce or something equally as dumb.

  I took pictures of what I managed to construct and then put them back in the baggy and tucked them into my bag. I really had to get back to work. I didn’t want to have another late night.

  I got through the workday, though it was a long one. I chalked it up to wanting to get everything with Cooter solved. Plus, I’d been working double time on everything. I needed to compartmentalize better.

  Shortbread and I headed home and, like the angel she is, Ashley had dinner ready. We sat and ate and laughed and, when it was all done, I helped her clean up and clear the table and kitchen.

  When everything was done being cleaned, I leaned against the counter and thought about what to do. My head was racing with thoughts of what I could do concerning Coot’s case.

  “What’s going on in that head of yours?” Ashley asked while wiping her hands dry.

  She placed the rag in its designated place and leaned against the island across from me.

  I tilted my head and told her, “I don’t know. I’m trying to figure out what to do about Cooter. I’m not really pressed about getting
him out of jail. I think he actually likes being in there.”

  Ashley made a face somewhere between confusion and disgust.

  “How could someone like being in there. It’s the worst. There’s no privacy and nothing to do except wait for your fate to be decided. And you have no idea if the jury is going to get it right because the American legal system is constantly failing its people and sometimes it takes a little bit of luck like the luck that I got when you ended up being my lawyer and even then it can come down to the wire.”

  Ashley was getting all red in the face and I was worried she might run out of breath.

  “I know how strongly you feel about our jails, Ash, but Coot has been arrested a few times before. He’s used to spending a few days here and there in jail. And it’s not like it’s prison. That’s what I’m really trying to avoid for him.”

  Cooter was probably really calm because he was dealing with something he has dealt with before. All of his crimes had been low-level, so he only had to be held in the local jail, but a murder would get him sent to a real prison or even death row and I knew he wouldn’t like that. He’d probably have to abandon his nonviolence pledge.

  “I’m sure you’ll crack the case. You were there for me when no one else was and now you’re there for Cooter. And you’re crazy smart, Kari. If you keep digging, I know you’ll get the evidence you need.”

  I did need to keep digging.

  “Hey, I have an idea. Do you want to go back to the dump with me?” I asked. “There could still be clues there that we missed on the first go-around.”

  Who knew what I would find the second time around?

  “Well, obviously. I mean what properly raised Southern girl wouldn’t want to spend Friday night at the dump,” Ashley inquired in return.

  I laughed at her response.

  “I’m guessing this properly raised Southern girl would love to spend her Friday night at the dump if it means spending it with her good friend,” I said while doing a couple of finger guns at her.

  She rolled her eyes and nodded. We got the dogs leashed up and into the car before heading over.

  “So, what are we going to do once we get there?” Ash asked while I drove us over.

  Once again, I wasn’t sure what we were looking for. I highly doubted we’d be able to find more pieces of that postcard I had tucked in my work bag and I wasn’t about to hinge our entire trip out on locating more of those.

  “We’re going to try and find some clues. What those clues are, I don’t know, but I’m sure we’ll know them when we see them,” I admitted.

  Ash nodded and accepted my answer. I knew it was weird to take my roommate on what amounted to a wild goose chase at the local dump, but Ashley was really a trooper, going along with my plans.

  And I had to give it up for the puppies. Shortbread got the brunt of it, but Biscotti was a good girl and I didn’t want to forget that she’s been pleasantly agreeable. Everyone, including me, deserved a treat.

  We got to the dump and the four of us got out of the car. I was looking every which way, trying to decide which way to go. Before I made any type of decision, Shortbread made one for me and walked forward, pulling me along with him. Ashley and Biscotti happily followed.

  “It looks like Shortbread is in charge of navigation today,” I announced.

  He seemed so confident leading us all along. He kind of skipped along like we were out for a typical, leisurely stroll.

  “Do you have an idea where he is going?”

  He kept leading us deeper and deeper into the junkyard. I had no idea where we were going, but it was giving me a chance to really look around.

  “I don’t know where this little guy is going, but I trust him.”

  I believed in the wisdom that dogs could sense certain things on a deeper level than us people, so I doubted Shortbread would lead us astray.

  As we explored the dump, I looked down a cleared pathway and saw something that looked kind of interesting.

  “Hey, guys. Look.”

  We all stopped, and I pointed at the object that had caught my eye.

  “What does that look like to you? Anything?”

  Ashley squinted her eyes and tilted her head.

  “I don’t know,” she answered while shaking her head. “Is it supposed to be something?”

  “Come on,” I said, motioning for everyone to follow me. We got a little closer and I asked again, “Doesn’t it look… like something?”

  I actually wasn’t totally sure what exactly it was, but I had a general idea and I was trying to lead Ash to a particular answer but may have been a little too vague. Plus, I wasn’t even totally sure if I was actually seeing what I thought I was seeing.

  “It looks like… junk?” Ashley offered.

  It was junk, but it was also more than junk.

  I turned to the dogs, “Do you guys see it? It’s a sculpture. It’s one of Cooter’s art pieces!”

  Ashley furrowed her brow and got a little closer to the art piece. She walked around it, Biscotti following her. Shortbread watched the two of them analyzing Cooter’s sculpture. Michelle was right when she said they were hard to find. I wouldn’t say I was an art expert or anything, but something about this garbage looked like it was arranged.

  Ashley got back to standing next to me and slowly started nodding.

  “You know, it does look like something. Maybe a person? I’d say he’s done a better job than Michelle.”

  I had to agree. I could see this maybe being in the town square and people actually liking it. Cooter really was a secret artist. How cool!

  I didn’t want to spend all our time staring at the sculpture, so we restarted our stroll. Biscotti walked further forward and joined Shortbread at the front. It looked like the two of them were having a little conversation as they led us around. It was one of the cutest things. I was so happy the two of them had hit it off so well.

  “Look at the siblings. They’re going to be best friends!” Ashley exclaimed.

  It was nice when siblings got along, and I was glad these guys weren’t the squabbling kind. I’d seen them spending a lot of time together in the backyard, entertaining one another and enjoying all the space. Moving in with Ashley was one of the best decisions I’d ever made.

  “What do you think they’re talking about?”

  “They’re probably gabbing about how crazy their owners are, bringing them to a dump on like three separate occasions in one week. Biscotti just left the country and Shortbread has been off the farm a little longer, so he’s more accustomed to that realness of the suburban South, but this big, wide world is also a bit new to him. They had heard of such places from their parents, but never expected to have the chance to come to them so often and now they want to see as much as they can before it’s too late.”

  I was found a little speechless by how prepared that narrative sounded. I felt like Ashley had really thought this thing through.

  “Writing a book, are we? If you did, I’d totally read it.”

  “I don’t know, maybe. I’ve thought about writing a children’s book before, but I’d need to gather more field notes. See what else Biscotti and Shortbread get up to and then if any publisher gets interested, we’ll see what happens.”

  We kept walking for a little longer, but I had realized our walk through the dump was a little futile. Nothing was popping up. Maybe because nothing was there or maybe because it was simply too big with too much clutter for me to be able to make a meaningful discovery. New junk was being added every day, so there was a high chance that potential evidence had already been buried, unfortunately.

  “I think that’s everything we’ll find even though we didn’t even find anything…”

  I was a little disappointed that this impromptu trip out didn’t bear any fruit. I really wanted to help Cooter out, but I needed more. The only bright spot was that I didn’t have to worry about getting him out of the local jail quickly.

  “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”r />
  Ashley trying to make me feel better made me feel a little better. We started to walk back to the front so we could leave but I got to thinking. I hated feeling like I came here all for nothing. I didn’t want to leave with absolutely nothing, so I thought maybe a look into Cooter’s mail might bear some fruit. Even if it didn’t, I could declutter his mailbox.

  I told Ashley, “Let’s go up to Coot’s place on our way out. I want to check his mail. Maybe something’s in there?”

  Ashley agreed to go with me and I peeked into the box. There were a few pieces, bills, and the usual. I took out the junk and spam and, close to the end of the pile, I found an invitation to the ‘Bowling Ball.” Huh, cute pun.

  “Ash, look at this.”

  She looked over my shoulder at the invitation and lets out a laugh through her nose.

  “That’s funny. Bowling Ball. Clever.”

  I loved how much she was into it. Ash found every joke about ten times funnier than it actually was, but it just meant she had a wholesome sense of humor.

  I read more of the invitation and saw that it was in a bowling alley called Ten Pinz and it was one town over in Jasperville. In fact, it looked very similar to the torn-up card I found near where Lonny’s body was discovered, assuming that was even a clue. It wasn’t a revelation that Cooter went bowling in Jasperville. There was no bowling alley in Appleton, so he had to go somewhere. That one was probably the closest. It was new information, but big deal, right?

  I turned the invitation over and saw there was an ad on the back for a dance instructor, Gustavo French. I also showed this to Ashley. “Have you heard of this guy?” She looked at the ad and shook her head.

  “No. Gustavo French is an interesting name.”

  It was. It could be a pseudonym. Some of the artistic types liked to use them to make themselves sound more interesting. Plus, the number accompanying the ad was an Appleton one.

  “Hey! He’s based here!” Ash said, noticing the same exact thing I did.

  “Do you think I should talk to him?”

  Ashley looked at me like she had no idea what I was talking about.