Saving Grapes

by J. T. Lundy

  “No, this is not Eustace. This is Jason Barnes.”

  “Oh—the famous Jason Barnes.”

  “Yes, well. I’ve been informed my conviction has been revoked and I’m calling to see if you could mail my passport to my apartment.”

  Mary spoke crisply. “Mr. Barnes, how are you in Europe without a passport?”

  Stumpy came down the stairs. Holy shit. I covered the phone. I whispered to Stumpy. “I’m busted. She knows I’m in Europe because of the caller ID. What do I do?”

  Stumpy’s eyes went back and forth rapidly and then stopped as he hopped on an idea. “A solar flare has disrupted and scrambled all cell numbers.” Stumpy nodded and looked proud.

  I uncovered the phone and took on a calm deep voice befitting an international vineyard owner. “Ms. Mary. I travel extensively and I am using an international cell phone with an international number. I am currently at my Illinois estate and I am in need of my passport. Could you kindly mail it to me?”

  I heard a giggle. “I see you live in Glenview apartments. That’s right next to the Sunnyside trailer park, right?”

  “Um, yes. It’s very nice. I’m in the executive row.”

  “Mr. Barnes. I don’t really care where you live or where you’re calling from. I’m not mailing you a passport.”

  “Not, what?”

  “We don’t have your passport.”

  “I had to turn in my passport to the court. I couldn’t leave the country.”

  “Not in this case. You weren’t a flight risk. We didn’t ask for your passport.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “Whom did you give your passport to, Mr. Barnes?”

  I slapped my fist on the counter. “Hammersmith!”

  “That lawyer who skipped town?”

  “Yes. Thank you. Goodbye.” I slammed the phone down. “Jesus Christ.”

  Stumpy put his fingers in his mouth. “What’s wrong?”

  I walked out to the patio and paced. Stumpy followed close behind, flustered. We ran into each other when I turned.

  Jacqueline walked up and handed me a glass of St. Sebastian wine. “Have some wine. Goodness, you are stressed. Is everything all right?”

  Darkness had almost set in. The crickets had begun their nightly symphony.

  “Inheriting a vineyard is tougher than you think.”

  Headlights came up the drive. It was Laura’s rental. Shit. I thought she had left.

  Laura stepped out of the car.

  I looked to Jacqueline and her mother. They were both alert, somewhat shocked.

  “I thought she was gone, honest,” I said.

  “So did we,” Marjette said.

  Jacqueline and her mother glared at Laura. I could see their capacity for politeness toward her was over. “She’ll never be gone,” Jacqueline said.

  I stood up. “Yes, yes. She will,” I said with confidence. “She’ll be gone and forgotten, soon. I promise.”

  Jacqueline seemed somewhat mollified by my determination.

  I walked off the patio toward the drive, meeting Laura in the front of the house. She could see that I was angry.

  “Relax, Jason. I just came to say goodbye.”

  I suddenly remembered. “Laura! You told me about Hammersmith splitting. Where do you think he could have gone?”

  Laura shrugged.

  “But Sheila worked for him, right? We could ask her?” I started ushering Laura into the house. “You have to call Sheila. We have to find Hammersmith.”

  Laura looked skeptical.

  “Please. Just try.”

  We walked into the kitchen. Stumpy stood washing dishes while Laura used the old wall phone. She connected with Sheila and small-talked for a while before asking about Hammersmith. She then mostly listened. She hung up and looked in no hurry to tell me about the conversation.

  I could hardly stand it. “Well? What did Sheila say?”

  Laura savored her newfound knowledge. “I talked to her.”

  I opened my arms wide. “And?”

  “And Sheila is not supposed to say anything.”

  “Say what? Come on, Laura. She told you something.”

  “All right. Sheila has been secretly reporting on Hammersmith to the District Attorney’s office. She might have to go before a grand jury.”

  My eye twitched. “Okay, okay. And?”

  “Hammersmith has been doing some shady things for years.”

  “I never liked that guy.”

  “Sheila says Hammersmith and Eustace convinced your aunt to put that Good Character Clause in the will. They were working together to scam this vineyard. You getting arrested right before your aunt died was the best thing that could have happened for them.”

  “The grapes were cooked!”

  “Does Sheila know where Hammersmith is?” Stumpy asked.

  “She doesn’t have a clue.”

  I pounded my fist into my hand. “Damnit!”

  Stumpy pounded his fist into his hand. “Damnit!”

  “But …” Laura said.

  “But what?” I said.

  “But what?” Stumpy said.

  I looked at Stumpy to let him know he was annoying me. He looked at me the same way.

  Laura was driving me crazy, too. She loved watching us dance like fools while she parceled out morsels of information.

  “But, she knows where your passport is.”

  Stumpy and I put our hands on each other’s shoulders and jumped up and down. “She knows where the passport is,” we both said. We looked at Laura, salivating like ravenous bloodhounds.

  She smiled at us.

  I could have bitten her.

  Finally she spoke. “Eustace has your passport.”

  “Eustace!”

  “He took it with him to ensure you couldn’t leave the country. Obviously he had no idea you had already left.”

  Stumpy and I let go of each other. A determined look rocked his face.

  I felt the same. A fury of Eustace-hate bubbled inside me. “We have to make a plan.”

  We rattled back and forth recapping some of our more famous pranks.

  “The snow cone blizzard.”

  “The corn cob crunch.”

  “The right field fence smackdown.”

  “The mac ’n’ cheese slingshot attack.”

  Stumpy grabbed me by the shoulders. “The pillow. The pillow—”

  I grabbed his shoulders and we shook each other and shouted together. “The pillow corpse coffin stuff!” We slapped and bumped each other as we bumbled up the stairs quick as we could.

  “Pillows. All the pillows.”

  “Scissors, tape, and belts—what else?”

  I stopped. What were we doing? I wanted to be a vineyard owner and I was planning to attack someone with pillows and duct tape? There had to be a better way. I tried to think, but the bedroom wall suddenly twirled with red and blue light. I looked outside and saw three, four, or more police cars. Officers surrounded the house. The doorbell chimed.

  Stumpy’s head was buried in a closet.

  “Keep working. I’ll take care of this.”

  He stood up and bumped his head. “Ow. What?”

  “Just stay up here.” I walked into the hall and down the stairs. This was it. The cops were here to bust me for stealing the cup. I felt shame. The sisters would be devastated. I didn’t deserve the vineyard; perhaps Eustace would be a better partner for the nuns, after all.

  I walked down to face my fate when the gendarmes entered the house from all entry points. The national police force captain walked in and nodded to me with authority.

  I was scared to death inside. This was it. Everything was going to come to an end. Still, I was good at this sort of thing, so I calmed my nerves and prepared for evasiveness. “Bonsoir, Capitaine,” I said, feigning innocence.

  The captain walked right by me.

  It all happened so fast.

  “Get your hands off me,” Laura yelled.

  The gendarmes had
Laura in a tangle and handcuffed her.

  I ran to the captain. “What is going on?”

  “After obtaining fingerprints from around the convent, we’ve determined that this lady’s fingerprints are on the relic cabinet.”

  “I didn’t steal anything,” Laura said.

  “Lots of people’s fingerprints must be on the relic cabinet,” I said.

  “Yes, but hers were everywhere inside.”

  I thought back to how I had just grabbed the gold chalice and shut the door.

  The captain looked at Laura with a mystery-solving eye. “Particularly the chalices. Her hands were all over the them. She must have inspected them searching for the Joan of Arc chalice.”

  “She can’t keep her hands off anything.” Jacqueline stood inside the patio door. She looked at Laura angrily. “You’re the enemy of France.”

  Laura looked crazed. “I’m not the enemy, you Paris bitch. You’re the one trying to get your hands all over this vineyard, pretending to like this country bumpkin from Illinois.”

  “Hey.” I looked at Laura, but she was in cuffs because of me, so I didn’t say anything else.

  “Pretending?” Jacqueline said in a calm voice. “I like the vineyard. And I like Jason. The vineyard is good for Jason, and I believe he will be good for it, but money is not my goal. Money will never be my objective.”

  “Blah, blah, blah,” Laura spat. “Aren’t you high-and-mighty? Don’t believe her, Jason. I know her type. Don’t fall for that fake righteousness.”

  “Enough!” The captain walked in front of Laura. “You talk a lot. Are you ready to confess? Tell me how you stole the Joan of Arc chalice.”

  Laura looked steadfast at the police captain. “I admit—”

  The room became silent.

  I waved my hands. “Don’t admit anything, Laura.”

  Jacqueline looked at me shocked that I had defended Laura. I shut up.

  Laura’s eyes filled with greed. “I touched them all. I admit that. I couldn’t keep my hands off them, but I didn’t know anything about any Joan of Arc chalice, and I certainly didn’t steal it. I mean, the case was unlocked. Anyone could have taken it.”

  “We’re taking you in for further questioning.” The captain gestured to his men and they started to leave, taking Laura with them.

  Laura looked at me pleadingly. I wanted to scream, Stop. I did it. I really did—but I couldn’t. I couldn’t give it all up. I still had hope, and besides, a part of me enjoyed seeing Laura hauled off by the police. God knows I went through enough pain because of her.

  I spread my hands and shook my head. “I’ll go to Aceau. Don’t worry, we’ll get you out.”

  Jacqueline shook her head. “You certainly stick up for your former wife, the thief.”

  “I really don’t think she did it,” I said.

  The police left with Laura and all was quiet.

  Jacqueline looked hurt. “I’m leaving.”

  “Leaving? Please, no. Don’t let this bother you.”

  “It’s been a long, strange day, Jason.”

  “No, no. Please stay. Let’s talk. Stumpy and I will be outside in a second. We’ll entertain you.”

  “Uh, no thank you.” Jacqueline looked out to the patio. “Mother is tired—to say the least. We have to go.” She turned and walked out without a kiss, a handshake, or a goodbye.

  Stumpy stood at the top of the stairs.

  “They arrested Laura for stealing the chalice.”

  “I saw. You just let them take her?”

  “What could I do? Jacqueline was here. I thought they were going to arrest me. It was kind of convenient, actually.”

  Stumpy walked down the stairs. “Convenient for you. That should be your motto.”

  “Laura’s my ex-wife and she put me through hell. She can handle a little questioning.”

  Stumpy sat on the couch, defeated. “I’m done. I’m going to confess. I’m sick of harming innocent people—the Sisters, Laura, the insurance company.”

  “The insurance company!”

  “We wrecked that car on purpose. We robbed them!”

  I put my head close to Stumpy and moved my face back and forth in front of his face looking into his eyes like I was searching for a sane person. “Stumpy! We’re so close to packaging up this place. Come on, Stumpy, don’t get all fucking philosophical on me now.” I paused to let him think. “Let’s go get Eustace.”

  Nothing.

  I slapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, man, let’s go.”

  “Go yourself.”

  “You’re abandoning me now?”

  “You’re abandoning me.”

  “Fuck you, Stumpy, and all your honorable shit.”

  Stumpy looked hurt. I’d never been so mean to him.

  “Fine. I’ll go it alone.” I walked out of the house and slammed the door. I’d do this my way.

  CHAPTER 27

  I parked the rental car in the alley and walked with determination around to the front of the Hotel Duras. The night was chilly, and the outdoor café was empty. Mounted iron and glass lamps burned a gas flame on each side of the castle-esque wooden entrance door.

  I burst into the hotel lobby. An old man sat on the couch. Peter stood behind the registration counter. “Bonsoir, Peter.”

  Peter looked worried. “Bonsoir, Monsieur Barnes.” He came around front.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not delivering room service today.”

  “No trouble, Monsieur Barnes.”

  Peter looked to be trying to head me off but I was halfway up the stairs before he could get close. “No trouble,” I called.

  I walked down the second floor hallway and paused at Jacqueline’s room. I had to fight the urge to knock. I had to stay focused. I had to find Eustace. I walked to Eustace’s door and knocked. “Open up, Eustace. It’s Jason.” I didn’t have a plan. I would just have to take him man-to-man.

  No one answered. I knocked again and waited. I tried to think where Eustace would have gone. I decided to get back in the car and drive slowly around the town to look for him. To save time I walked down the back stairwell and cracked open the alley door.

  There sat Eustace in our Toyota rental car. He was rifling through the glove box, most likely looking for evidence of my illegal entry into France. That grape rustler was watching my every move. He had probably watched me enter the hotel and figured I’d be spending time with Jacqueline. Thankfully my Mike McCreedy passport was back in my room at the house.

  The car trunk popped and Eustace got out to open it.

  I slowly opened the door and stepped quietly onto the square stone alley. Eustace had his head in the trunk searching, moving his hands through empty wine bottles and vineyard tools.

  I put a finger in his ear and grabbed the back of his pants.

  “Ah!”

  I shoved his head down and pushed his body against the car’s open trunk. I lifted him up, knocked him into the trunk, and slammed down the lid.

  “Help. Help!” he screamed.

  I got in the car and blasted the stereo and drove. I drove back to the vineyard, past the house and into the vines. I followed the gravel road and rounded the ridge and climbed the chapel hill until I reached the cemetery.

  I got out of the car. The cloud-covered night cast a darkness heavy and complete. The still air created an eerie silence. I could only imagine the gravestones and my family tomb in the blackness. I walked around to the back of the car and popped the trunk. I reached in and grabbed Eustace. He was trying to jump out so I used his momentum to pull him onto the ground.

  I jumped on top of his back and shoved his face into the moist grass. We struggled, but I had the advantage. Eustace was wiry tough and stronger than I remembered, and I was out of shape, but I still handled him.

  Eustace’s cell phone had fallen out of his pocket. I grabbed it and pressed it into his back. “Don’t move or I’ll shoot, and don’t think that I won’t”.

  “We were brothers, once.”

/>   “Shut up!” I grabbed him by the hair and pulled him up until we were both standing. I still held the phone pressed to his back.

  I pushed him over to the vault and knocked him down on top of it. I held his face against the copper plaque. “You see all those names. That’s my family. Not yours! You were trying to steal my family, and this time I’m not going to let you.”

  “Clara put me in the will.”

  “Shut up. You pressured her. I know all about you and Hammersmith and your scam.”

  Eustace wasn’t expecting that I would know this. He gasped and his body relaxed.

  “You’re going down, Eustace.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to let my ancestors take care of you.” Eustace had always been afraid of ghosts as a kid. “I’ll bury you right in the back of this cemetery and you can plead your case to four hundred years of Barnes’ souls.”

  Eustace flexed. I pressed down on him harder and pushed the cell phone against him. “Or maybe I’ll let you go after you give me my passport.”

  He relaxed again, and I could tell he was thinking. “Give it to me now or tell me where it is. I’ll have to tie you up, though, until I find it.”

  I heard music. The Star Trek theme song played from my hand. Eustace figured out the gun was really his phone before I realized it. His arms swung out and he rolled, catching me in the jaw with the back of his hand. I fell off the vault onto the ground. I pushed up and was halfway standing when Eustace kicked me in the balls. I bent over and he cross-hooked me in the jaw. I fell. Eustace ran.

  Eustace ran to the car, but I still had the keys. I rolled to my side and pressed the small red panic button under the door lock. The car alarm blared and the headlights flashed. Eustace backed away from the car and ran down the hill into the vines toward the vintner’s house.

  I sat up and gathered my bearings. My jaw hurt and I felt dazed. I pushed up on the vault and tried to gather strength from my family.

  I jumped in the car and drove down the hill. When I reached the grassy lane that cut through the vineyard, I stopped the car, got out and ran, thinking I could head Eustace off. I ran straight down the lane across the vine rows. My jaw throbbed. Sweat dripped down my cheek, and my side began to ache. The vines were rustling down a row on the side of the vintner’s house. I stopped. I had missed him. Damn Eustace. I used to be the athlete. He was the geek. What happened?