by James Ross
“You go ahead and use it,” D. Wayne said. He was helping his friend considerably by letting him borrow it. “It’s used. Jus’ take it and give it back when you are through with it. Pay fo’ all of the other stuff.”
“Wit’ some bullets?” Tuey asked.
D. Wayne nodded his head up and down. “Why not? You need something that will make some noise.”
“Can I get it now?”
“No, but you can have it in three days,” D. Wayne said. “You have to file some papers with the state.”
“Oooooooo, weeeeeee,” Tuey said, “I be shootin’ up da sky at midnight on New Year’s Eve.” He went down an aisle and grabbed a bottle of guava flavored Cruzan rum, 100-proof Southern Comfort as well as papaya flavored DeKuyper liqueur and buttershots burst. “I’s guess if I’s gittin’ dat, den I’s betta git some presents fo’ LeVournique.” He picked up a box of grape-flavored Swisher Sweets and threw them on the counter. “Dat’s enough fo’ today.”
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
The next day Tuey hurried back to the offices of Dennis K. Sneed. He was anxious to see if the new lawyer had utilized his contact inside the fortress of city hall. “Did’s ya have any luck?” Tuey asked the lawyer.
“Yeah. It’s confirmed. They want you to pay them to go away,” Sneed answered.
“Wells, hell no, I’s ain’t goin’ ta do dat,” Tuey complained. “I’s hasn’t dones nuttin’ wrong.”
“It does kind of sound like blackmail,” Sneed followed.
“Sho’ it be,” Tuey agreed. “Ya knows, I’s not da smartest guy in da world, but sumptin’ jus’ ain’t right ’bouts what’s dey’s be uh doin’.”
“They are sending a message to you Tuey. They don’t want you to do business in their city,” Sneed put into plain words.
“But dat jus’ ain’t right,” Tuey complained. “An’ now’s I’s got’s ta pay fo’ da lawya an’ den I’s got’s ta go down dere ta da city hall an’ pays da peoples down dere what’s dey’s want jus’ fo’ dem ta goes away. An’ dat’s on top uh da fines fo’ aw uh da dem dere tickets. Dem peoples is uh holdin’ me up!”
“I feel for you,” Sneed said. He shrugged his shoulders as if to indicate that he was powerless to go after the powers-to-be at city hall. He was incapable of going against Mayor Leavitt.
Tuey stared defiantly back at the attorney. “What’s can I’s do?” He paused and waited for a reply. “I’s mean aw uh dem peoples down dere is uh drivin’ me inta bankruptcy. Dere ain’t enough money to pay da fines. Dey’s wants aw uh da money dat’s I’s be makin’. My wife’s money ain’ts bein’ enough fo’ us to make it. An’ now dey’s be tryin’ to deprive me of uh opportunity ta makes uh livin’ in deir city.”
“Well, maybe if you document everything perhaps I can file some sort of civil rights claim,” Sneed suggested.
“But what’s dere ta documen’?” Tuey asked in frustration. “Dem’s peoples will hide behin’ deir desks an’ da stupid laws of da city.”
“There’s no doubt that it’s a longshot,” Sneed conceded. “Plus it’s very tough to prove, and takes a lot of money, and eats up a lot of your time.” Sneed looked like he was about to soil his boxers. “Unless, that is, you can get federal law enforcement to take an interest in the case and do your dirty work for you. Then we can come in behind them and file a civil claim.”
“But dere’s gots ta be uh betta way,” Tuey maintained. “I’s mean, I’s be runnin’ out uh da money cuz I’s can’t git da jobs dat I’s want, an’ my wife . . . she be goin’ ta go down ta da state uh Texas, an’ my frien’s don’t wanna have nuttin’ ta do wit’ . . .” Tuey broke down.
Sneed got up, walked around his desk, and patted Tuey on the shoulder as the hunk of a man sobbed openly in front of him. “I feel for you. I really do.”
“But’s you’s not livin’ it. I’s don’ts know how much mo’ uh aw uh dis crap I’s can take.”
“It’ll get better,” Sneed assured him.
“How’s aw uh dis crap gonna git betta?”
“Time has a way of settling scores,” Sneed said trying to comfort him. “Now we have to wrap this up. I’ve got another appointment.”
“But dat’s sumptin’ dat’s I’s don’ts have enough uh anymore,” Tuey said.
“What’s that?”
“Time,” Tuey answered. “My time be uh runnin’ out.”
“I’ll try and get something done for you,” the lawyer said as he escorted his new client to the door. “But don’t hold your breath. It’s too big of a mountain to climb.”
“Jus’ give me uh li’l bit uh hope Mista Sneed.”
“You got it. But it’s only a teeny weeny bit.”
CHAPTER FIFTY
J Dub pulled his pickup to the side of the maintenance shed. His breath was visible in the cold temperature. The brisk wind hit his cheeks as he exited the vehicle and entered. Tuey had stopped in the metal building to pick up a compressor and grease gun. As he gathered the items Puddles brushed against the insulated camouflage jumpsuit.
“Are you having problems again?” J Dub started as he squeezed through the opening between the door and the jamb.
“Dis cole weatha be tough on da boys an’ my ole equipment,” Tuey mildly complained.
J Dub rolled out the plans on the job. On the blueprint was the golf course and detailed drawings of Tuey’s course. “You’ve been out here about two months and Harold is getting anxious,” J Dub explained. “I’ve got to give him a status report.”
“Tings is uh goin’ slow,” Tuey agreed. “Dere’s da roots an’ da sprinkla lines an’ sometimes some ice an’ . . .”
“It’s not easy,” J Dub interrupted. “This is a dirty job.”
“Oooooooo, weeeee! I’s say it be,” Tuey said.
“He wants to have the job done in ninety more days and you’re only to this point,” J Dub said as he pointed to an area on the map that was a mere quarter of the way through the job. “By this time the banker wanted you to be here.” J Dub pointed to a different spot on the drawing farther down the creek line.
Tuey looked solemnly at J Dub. “Can’s we blame it on da weatha?”
“That would be the easy way out,” J Dub said as he reached down and rubbed his hand across Puddles’ head. “The bottom line is that I’ve got to speed you up a little.”
“Dat could be tougha if da weatha gits worsa.”
“This time of year can be nasty,” J Dub said. “That’s why Harold wanted you to be farther along.”
“Tell ’em dat’s I’s doin’ da best dat I’s can.”
J Dub shook his head up and down. “I did and he said that you’re costing him money.”
Tuey grabbed his brown paper sack lunch. “Den I’s betta git on out dere so dat he quits axtin’ aw uh da questions.”
J Dub rolled up the plans. “I know that you’re trying. I know and you know that you had to work around the golfers when you started,” J Dub said. “But if you can turn it up a notch, then I’ll try to keep the banker happy.” He gave Tuey a “thumbs-up” sign and headed out the door. A few seconds later J Dub drove the pickup back to the warmer confines of the clubhouse.
Tuey remained in the maintenance shed and fiddled with the grease gun. Puddles bounded onto the couch, sprang up and walked along the top of the sofa, jumped down to the gravel floor, and continued to the opened door. The cat stopped and looked at Tuey. “Is ya gonna goes out in da cole weatha?” Puddles darted ten feet out onto the gravel parking lot. “You’s oughta be uh lookin’ fo’ some hot sunshine ta be takin’ uh nap in.” Tuey grabbed his lunch and walked after the cat. “Or betta yet maybe you’s oughta stay in here an’ catch some uh dose mice dat’s bin uh runnin’ ’round.”
Tuey had almost reached the spot where the cat was standing when Puddles dashed off in a different direction. “Where you be uh goin’ now?” The cat ran to a cluster of trees, suddenly put on the brakes, and strolled three times in a circle . . . its tail erect and pointing straight u
p into the sky.
“Duz ya tink dat you’s be uh dog or sumptin’?” Tuey said as he watched the cat’s behavior. He took his hand off of the door handle on his pickup and walked over toward the group of trees.
When he got within two steps of the cat it bounded into the trees, ran another twenty yards, and stopped on the side of the creek. Tuey ducked his head as he stooped to clear the lower branches. “I’s guess dat one uh dese days I’s git my backhoe down dis far in da creek,” Tuey said as Puddles tiptoed along the edge of the water. “Where you be headed now?”
Puddles jumped up the bank, darted between a few tree trunks, and reappeared another thirty yards down the creek along the edge of the water. “You’s bein’ uh li’l bugga,” Tuey said as a gust of wind almost blew the skull cap off of his head. He tiptoed through the water, reappeared on the opposite bank, and inched closer to the cat. “Dis ole man gonna be outta breath if you’s gonna take me’s much furtha.” He looked into the cat’s eyes.
Puddles had gorgeous markings. The cat wore a gray coat with white paws and a patch of white around its nose. Normally quiet, it let out a gentle mew then darted off into the trees. “Where ya be takin’ me?” an exasperated Tuey asked. “Do you’s got’s some milk an’ cookies ova dere or sumptin’?” He followed after the cat.
Tuey tried to stay within ten yards of the animal. The fallen leaves crunched under his footsteps. Wind gusts blew more leaves through the air. Occasionally he had to duck under low tree limbs. Dormant underbrush would occasionally block his view from the feline as it dashed through the woods. “Don’t you’s git me lost in here.” He noticed that Puddles was circling again near a different part of the creek. The brook had meandered and looped back around.
A stone arch that looked like it had been constructed in the Civil War days spanned the creek. The rocks were covered with moss. Spider webs clung to the angles of the stones. Wooden slats provided a platform over the stream. “Is dere uh troll livin’ underneath dere dat you’s wants me ta meet?” Tuey asked as he turned to Puddles. The cat tilted its head, raised its paw to its mouth, and licked its leg. After several strokes across its jaw Puddles jumped slightly in the air and darted down a foot path.
At some point in time the trail had been traveled. Now the overhanging tree limbs and thorny underbrush almost made the path impassable. Puddles disappeared amid the ruts, pebbles, and weeds that now occupied the passageway. As curious as a feline, Tuey continued on until Puddles stopped at a spot where the water cascaded down a small rock formation.
When Tuey drew near, the cat approached him and rubbed up against the leg of his overalls. “What duz you’s wants me ta do now?” he asked as he reached down and rubbed the cat behind the ears. Puddles rubbed against the back of his leg and circled around to rub against the front of his leg. Its tail pointed toward the sky. For a split second it looked like the cat was content to scratch itself. Then it darted five yards away as if it quickly changed its mind.
“Is you uh womin or sumptin’? Da way’s ya bin changin’ yo’ mine . . . ya sho’ be axtin’ like one.” Tuey took a couple of steps and the cat bounded down the creek bank to the edge of the water. Then it hopped up to a rock outcropping and disappeared into a three foot by four foot hole in the shale. Tuey slid down the slick bank and peered into the hole. Two green eyes shined back. “You’s come on outta dere befo’ some mean monsta be grabbin’ ats ya,” Tuey said as the cat let out a series of meows. Tuey gazed at the cat and sized up the situation. “No. No ways am I’s gonna follow you’s inta dat hole.” Puddles meowed some more. Its rhythmic mews put Tuey under a spell as their eyes locked.
Tuey stared at the cat. Puddles blinked. Its green eyes had a soothing appeal that beckoned Tuey to continue the journey. “Duz ya tink dat I’s crazy?” Imaginary or not, Puddles shook its head from side to side. Slowly it blinked its eyes again. “Is dere sumptin’ dat you’s wants me ta know ’bout dis creek an’ dis hole?” Puddles nodded then blinked three times.
Tuey reached up to brace himself on the rocks. He pulled his body into the opening, got on his hands and knees, and crawled after the cat. Puddles turned. The eyes disappeared. Daylight faded. Tuey was petrified. In a few feet the gray sky overhead turned into total darkness.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
“Where’s you be takin’ me?” Tuey repeated as his eyes had not yet adjusted to the darkness. He patted the rock floor and felt his way along. A musty odor permeated the dim setting. The damp base suggested that a spring was close by. Inside the cavern the air felt warmer than the cool breeze outside. In fact, the temperature in the cave remained at a constant fifty-eight degrees.
Tuey’s ears were alert as he followed Puddles’ mews. In what seemed like hours Tuey crawled down a passageway and entered a separate chamber. Thousands of fireflies provided faint, yellow light in the cavern. As Tuey’s eyes adjusted to the soft illumination scattered noises could be heard as various critters cleared out of the opening. He rose to his feet careful not to bang his head on the low ceiling.
“Back to the rear chamber,” the fox said to a couple of his trusted friends. The different species scattered. Moments later a raccoon, a rat, and a squirrel joined the fox in a smaller chamber separated by a narrow passageway between the rock walls. Out of breath, the quartet scrambled to breathe.
“What are we going to do?” the rat asked as his nose sniffed the air.
“Run as far as we can,” the raccoon suggested.
“Hold on! Give me some time to think,” the fox said as he paced the floor. A few anxious seconds elapsed as the others in the group calmed down. “We don’t want an intruder in here. This is our turf,” the fox reminded the others. He raised his snout in the air and sniffed. “But we need his food.” He raised his upper lip, let out a stifled growl, and flashed his teeth.
“How are we going to get it?” the squirrel asked.
The fox was deep in thought. “We need the others to help do our dirty work.” He paced the floor and circled back around to the rest of the critters. “Let’s send Mr. Slime and Ms. Slither out there to check things out. They can slide around and not bring any attention to themselves.”
“Good idea!” the rat agreed as his whickers moved with every nose movement.
“He shouldn’t be afraid of Bucky and Burp,” the fox suggested as he referred to the beaver and the frog. “They’ll get his trust.”
“That’s clever,” the squirrel said.
“I’m glad you think so, Nuts.” The fox wore a sly grin. “Someone needs to be the brains of this operation.” He slowly turned his head and looked at all of the others. “Then we’ll send you and Nose Twitch and Snapper out to divert his attention.” The fox referred to the squirrel, rabbit, and turtle.
The squirrel nervously worked its jaws back and forth. “I don’t know why we have to go out first.”
“He’ll trust you too,” the fox explained. “That will distract his attention from what we’re going to do.”
“What’s that?” the raccoon asked.
“Steal his food!” the fox declared. “Do I have to do all of your thinking for you?”
“Oooooo, that’s a good idea,” the rat confirmed.
“This is our place. If he’s going to come on our turf he better have value.” The fox was in control. “Now Nuts, you go gather the gang and let them know what to do,” the fox encouraged the others. The squirrel ran out of the chamber. “Bandit, you and Deputy Matt stay here with me. When the time is right we’ll pounce.”
“I’s don’ts know ’bout dis place, Puddles,” Tuey said. He was standing in an inch or two of water. “But it sho’ is diff’rent.” He looked around to see etchings on the walls of the cave. He stooped slightly to not bang his head on the roof of the room.
A loud splash of water suddenly startled him. He looked to see a beaver slapping its tail on the water. A second later a frog hopped up against his leg. “Lookee dere, Puddles. Dere’s some regular animals livin’ in here.”
&n
bsp; Just as quickly as the words came out of his mouth Tuey jumped suddenly to his right. Two snakes slowly swam through the layer of water that covered the floor of the cave. “But I’s sho’ don’ts care fo’ dose types uh animals. Dose tings scare me.”
Behind the snakes crawled a turtle, followed by a rabbit and a squirrel. “So dat’s why you’s likes ta come in ta dis place,” Tuey said as the innocent looking crew came into view. “Are aw uh dese crittahs yo’ frien’s, Puddles?”
The sound had barely echoed off of the walls when a fox darted by Tuey. Startled, he dodged out of the path of the quick animal but slipped on the wet floor. As he tried to catch his balance the raccoon suddenly grabbed his sack lunch, taking a chunk out of Tuey’s finger in the process. “Ow!” Tuey yelled as he shook his finger violently.
The brown bag of food found its way to the floor of the cave. The fox, rat, and raccoon as well as the others had gathered around the contents to devour a banana, peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and two hard boiled eggs. The turtle was using its beaked jaws to open the can of spam. “So dat’s what you’s peoples wuz up ta,” Tuey said. “If you’s jus’ would uh sed sumptin’ den I’s would uh brought ya’s some real good eatin’.” He smiled an infectious grin at the band of scavengers. “Come on Puddles. It’s time fo’ us ta git out uh here.” The animals were having a feast. “Look at dem’s aw uh chowin’ down.”
“Boss, wake up,” Fanbelt said as he shook Tuey.
“Where’s ya been?” Asia asked.
“Yeah, we need that grease,” Fanbelt added. He went over and turned down the boom box that was blaring music from Shriek Caramel U-Hop.
Tuey shook his head to gather his bearings. He was sitting on the couch in the maintenance shed with Puddles curled up in his lap. The space heater was spewing heat. “I’s guess dat I’s musta fallen ta sleep,” Tuey surmised as he rubbed his forehead and pinched his temples. I’s can’ts let J Dub know dat . . . ’specially afta what he’s sed ta me. Blood dripped from his finger and dotted the insulated camouflage suit that he was wearing. Now how did’s dat uh happen?
