by James Ross
He fumbled the robot and dropped it. “I hope it didn’t break. You can handle them better than me.” He stooped to pick it off the floor. “I guess that means we’ll have to get the party started.” He watched Shae put the dance game in the cart.
“Now you get to pick out a stuffed animal.”
“I thought we could only get one gift per child.”
“Everyone gets a stuffed animal.” She pushed the cart to a six-foot tall pile of cuddly giveaways. Skip, her friend from Footprints of Hope, had the task of replenishing the pile. He was busy in the background ripping open containers and throwing the animals onto the heap.
“I wouldn’t know where to start.”
Shae reached into the pile. “Get this one.” She grabbed a bunny. “It’s so cute.”
The man examined the face and the whiskers. “You know what little girls want.”
Shae grabbed a duck. She threw it to Skip. “Bury this one. If Pabby saw it he would run forever.”
“He came over here once and hasn’t been back,” Skip said.
Shae reached for a panda. “Here is one they will like.”
“Thank you for being so helpful.” He tossed the panda into the cart.
“When will you see them for Christmas?”
“I don’t think I will.”
“Why not?”
“They’re in Oklahoma.”
Shae stopped the cart. “Oklahoma is a state located in the central part of the United States. Its nickname is the Sooner state. The region is noted for its severe weather and sits in an area called Tornado Alley.”
“You know a lot.”
“The state bird is the Scissor-tailed flycatcher. The state tree is the Eastern redbud.” Shae paused. Her look was distant. “Many people don’t know that the state fruit is the strawberry and the state flower is the Oklahoma Rose.” She smiled. “Don’t tell Pabby, but the state insect is the honeybee!”
Carla had been following acting as a chaperon. “Shae! Let the man alone.”
The man smiled. “It’s all right.”
“I don’t know if it is. She’ll spend the rest of the day giving you every fact about that state. We have a lot of work to do.”
“The state song is “Oklahoma!” composed by Rodgers and Hammerstein.”
“Maybe I’ll get that to put in the dance game.”
“Shae let’s go.” They continued to the mystery prize. Minutes later the man was out the door pleased that he found a young teen that could pick out the perfect gifts.
The hours passed. The deprived were many. The numbers were astonishing.
“We’ve got an epidemic in this country,” J Dub commented to Doc. “Look at all of these people that can’t buy Christmas presents for their kids.”
They watched as Pamela Porter gathered the children to return to Footprints of Hope. She assembled them by the large Christmas tree. “Before we leave I want to get a group picture.”
“How do those kids do it?” Captain Jer asked.
“What?” Julie said.
“Listen to that voice all day.”
“It’s a Disney character,” Trot added.
Over a dozen lined up for the picture. Mrs. Porter whined about their inattentiveness and lack of manners. “Now come on, you’ve been good all day!” Pamela marched to the tree. She tugged at blouses and reminded some to tuck in shirts. “I have a couple of announcements to make.” Pamela raised her hands in the air. “Quiet please.” The sounds subsided. “I want to thank all of you for participating in this very special cause today. If you haven’t noticed we all have a lot to be thankful for.” Images of the underprivileged were fresh in their minds. “In the coming days we’ll discuss the effects that helping others will have as you continue to grow.”
“Agh! I can’t stand listening to that voice,” Captain Jer whispered to Julie.
“Shush.”
“Now, I have some good news and some bad news. Which do you want first?”
“The bad news.”
“We’ve all been part of a special cause today. I’m proud of the effort each one of you made. I want to remind you to leave things the way you found them. There were a lot of toys and gifts earmarked for the needy. Even though you live in a foster home none of you fall into that category.” It was clear who the matriarch was. “I don’t want to see anything that is not yours leave these premises. If anyone has taken something we’ll have time when we gather our coats to leave things anonymously behind.” Pamela paused. “Do you understand?”
Heads nodded in agreement. “That wasn’t so bad. What’s the good news?”
“It involves one person in our group. He has received perhaps the most wonderful Christmas present that can ever be bestowed.” Pamela looked at Pabby. “Pabby, would you come here and join me?”
Pabby, taken by surprise and full of trepidation, inched his way through the other teens. He looked over his shoulder at the others as he made his way to Pamela.
“Pabby, I’d like for you to know that someone else in attendance has gone to great lengths to make this the most wonderful Christmas that you’ve ever had.”
“J Dub already tipped me,” the teen stammered.
Mrs. Porter smiled. “Aside from that he wanted me to deliver some other news.” Pabby looked confused. “As you well know you’ve had an opportunity to meet many new friends this past year. One of them wanted me to deliver a special Christmas gift to you.” Pabby stood attentively. “J Dub and his wife have started adoption proceedings. In a few short months you’ll be a part of their family.”
The teen was stunned. His mouth flew open as J Dub beamed at him and stepped forward from the semi-circle in front of the tree. None of the others at Prairie Winds were aware. A whoop and round of applause went up as they closed in on the pro and shook his hand. The kids moved to join Pabby as he hurried to J Dub, sheepishly bowed his head, extended a locked arm with closed fist and waited for the pro to tap it. After the tap was reciprocated he placed both arms to his side and jumped for a shoulder tap.
Suddenly, Shae stomped off and started crying. “No! I want to go too!” The reaction caught the adults off guard.
Carla reached her first. “Shae, it will be okay. We’ll still be able to go to the golf course.” She wrapped her arms around the girl.
“I don’t care about that.” The sobs increased. “I want parents too.” She pounded her hand on Carla’s shoulder. Her sight line provided a celebratory view of Pabby standing next to J Dub. “How could he do that?”
“Who?”
“J Dub.”
“Adopting a child isn’t a package deal.”
“I want to go too.” She puffed out her lower lip.
“The process has just started. Pabby isn’t going anywhere for quite a while.”
“That’s mean for him to break us up,” Shae said.
Carla comforted the teen the best she could. “Then you can tell him what you think the next time you see him.” She studied Shae’s reaction. “Let’s not make a big scene right now.”
“I don’t like it.”
“It’s time for the picture,” Pamela yelled out. “Let’s get together as a group. The bus is scheduled to take us home.”
Shae kept a frown for the camera and the entire way home. She wanted nothing to do with Pabby, like J Dub’s decision was really his fault. After the bus had emptied the driver noticed something in the seat that Pabby had vacated. Upon closer examination the object turned out to be a stuffed animal in the shape of a bee.
“Uh, Mrs. Porter,” she called out before the head disappeared through the front door. “One of the kids left this behind.”
The immediate shock was numbing especially after the speech prior to leaving. “Whose seat?”
“Pabby’s.”
The shrill should have broken glass. The teen reappeared from the front door at her summons. Inside, Skip and Shae snickered.
“What do you have to say?”
“About what?”
“Stop it! Don’t deflect the topic.” Mrs. Porter studied the confused look. She stopped and put her arm around his shoulder and smiled. “You make it so tough for me to be mad at you. Why did you take this?”
“I didn’t.”
His words didn’t register. “It’s one less gift a needy child will receive. I’m disappointed in you.”
“I didn’t take it.”
“The driver found it in your seat.” Pabby shrugged. “It wasn’t me.”
“You’ve had such a wonderful day and I don’t want to be the one that ruins it for you.” She looked at the helpless face. “But for now I’m going to have to ground you.”
“Why?” Pabby protested.
“You know why.”
Pabby stormed off.
CHAPTER 68
“Hey little brother, I turned up something interesting.”
Curt was positioned at his home away from home, the computer in the office at Prairie Winds.
“Don’t you want to ask me how it went?”
“What?’
“The announcement.”
“About adopting Pabby?”
“Yeah. Shae got real upset. I didn’t foresee that.”
“I’m sure she felt neglected.”
“Maybe I’m doing the wrong thing.”
“You’re doing what you can to help. Don’t worry about things. Good things come to good people.” Curt’s eyes never left the monitor. “Now we have to figure out what to do with this stuff I found.”
J Dub walked over and looked over his brother’s shoulder. “What turned up?”
“It doesn’t look like Uncle Woo is as full of beans as we all think.” He made a couple of keystrokes. “It appears that Bighead and Southstar really exist.”
“As what?” The find was puzzling.
“Actually it appears to be a combination of two entities. Both have roots to the Native Americans.”
“Indians?”
“Yeah. You know they were here long before we came on the scene.” Curt brought up a web page. “Bigheads were demons within the Iroquois tribe. Now I don’t know if that has anything to do with FOBS, but it might lead us somewhere.”
“Tell me about them.”
“If you read about the Iroquois culture these gods basically were large, flying heads that didn’t have a body. I have to do more research on them but I have found out that they found livestock and humans very tasty.”
“And what in the world does that have to do with FOBS?”
“I’m not saying that it does, but it could be a direction that we might want to pursue.”
“Maybe there is a connection. Lawyers seem to want to suck all the life out of a client. Those bloodsuckers think that all humans are prey. I imagine we look pretty tasty to them.” The pair laughed, but not because they wanted to.
“What about the other one?”
“Southstar? That can be traced to the Native Americans too.” Curt made some key strokes and a different web page appeared. “I still need to read up more on this stuff. The Pawnees had a Northstar god that was the creator of life. Indian lore says that it was a beneficiant and forgiving force. The opposite of that was the Southstar god. This force was extremely evil. It was the god of the underworld, very magical and feared.”
“Once again, what does that have to do with FOBS?”
“I don’t know, but we might have to have a little chat with your falconer friend and tell him what we’ve learned.”
“Do you think that FOBS is somehow related to the underworld?”
CHAPTER 69
The holidays were over. The New Year was ushered in.
With cold weather, snow and ice the golf season was shut down. The guys had to hang out somewhere. The regulars wouldn’t come around quite as much, but J Dub and Curt normally killed a few hours each day in the clubhouse.
Doc showed up right after lunch. He usually spent from nine to twelve at his clinic to perform surgery on domestic animals. After that he would clear out for the casinos or golf course or his afternoon nap. With nothing going on in the dead of winter he agreed to stop by with DeWitt Tracy and visit with J Dub and Curt.
“Everett tells me that you’re going to adopt the boy that you brought with you on out hunting adventure,” the retired lawyer said. His eyes were focused on the frozen irrigation lake that was in full view of the clubhouse. Only a very small portion of water was moving in an area that was away from the wind.
“Yeah, after the paperwork is completed,” J Dub beamed.
“Do you have any kids?”
“Three—two girls and a boy. My wife, Marcia, and I have had him to the house several times. It was a big decision but the kids were fine with the idea and we want to share some of our good fortune with those that haven’t had as much. Pabby will be a welcome addition. We’re looking forward to providing a nice home for him. How about you?”
“My wife and I raised one girl. Then after she graduated and married we became empty nesters.” He turned and redirected his attention to the head pro. “But life changes rapidly. All the plans we had changed when my wife died.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
DeWitt shrugged. “I’ve been forced to find another purpose in life.” He swiftly changed the conversation. “Everett tells me you’ve been doing some homework.”
Curt jumped into the conversation. “It was a crazy day around here. All the guys were throwing out ideas for the acronym FOBS.” He pulled up a bar stool, scooted it in close and took a seat placing his elbows on the countertop. “The silliness went on and on.”
“That was until Pork Chop’s old man…”
“The one that is tough to figure out…”
“ . . . because he has dementia,” J Dub concluded, “jumped up and started dancing a little jig.”
“We sort of settled on ‘friends of’ as the start of FOBS.”
DeWitt nodded. “Very good.”
“The booze was kicking in for a few of them and so was their creativity when out of nowhere the old guy started chanting ‘Bighead Southstar.’”
“So Curt did some limited research and found that both were names of gods of North American Indian tribes.”
“Touché.”
“The BS fit. Are we close?”
“Right on the mark,” DeWitt confirmed. “Did you figure out the significance?”
“That’s why we asked you over.”
“The reference could point to the underworld. That got us concerned.”
DeWitt was ready to talk. “You guys are on the edge.”
“And we need help.”
“Fill in the blanks on what you know.”
Doc nodded slightly. “Go ahead DeWitt. They’re good people.”
“Pour me some Grand Marnier.” His tongue swirled around his mouth. “And put it in a snifter.” J Dub scrambled around the back of the bar, located one that hadn’t been used in years and held it under the faucet. “It’s perfect on a day like today.” He looked at Doc. “What else is there to do for a couple of old-timers like us?”
J Dub poured a double dose and placed the drink in front of DeWitt. “Fire away.”
A hearty laugh followed. “Firing away is appropriate for this stuff.” He circled the snifter under his nose and whiffed. “I can feel the flame right now.” DeWitt pounded the center of his chest. “Buchanon Porter was my old law partner.” The stout first sip would have challenged Captain Jer. He exhaled rapidly.
“You’re kidding me.”
“No. We went to law school together; the University of Illinois in Champaign. Way back when the country was taking off in the late fifties and early sixties. In fact our first year together was the year Kennedy got assassinated.”
“Judge Porter started out in private practice?”
“Sure.” DeWitt circled the snifter. There was
no need for another sip this quick. The fire was still burning a hole in his windpipe. “That was the start to how he figured it all out.”
“What?’
“On which side of the fence to sit.”
“Meaning?”
“Why be at the mercy of the judges? If you become one then you establish the rules.” It was time for another sip. “But we’ll get into that later. It started a few years before that.”
“What did?”
“The operation,” DeWitt continued. “It really started back in law school. We were both recruited.”
“By who?”
“There was a secret society. It was called the Cloaks and Gavel. We called it the C and G. It was our fraternity. Just law students. And there was a chapter at all the colleges and universities in the Midwest that had a law school.”
“What did it stand for?’
“At first it was fun. We had some drinking buddies to run around with and get drunk and raise some hell. That was how it started.”
“Then what?”
“It was an exclusive club. Law school was very competitive. We wanted to do better than the other guys. We learned how to lie to the professors, cheat, take shortcuts, steal tests, lift text in preparing briefs and plagiarize research papers and outlines.”
“Those are admirable tasks.” J Dub said sarcastically. “Can you imagine if the golf world acted that way?”
“What we did back then disgusts me now,” DeWitt barked. “What we have are communities of lawyers out there now that believe practicing law is an honorable profession.”
“I know better,” J Dub replied. “They’re nothing but two-faced hypocrites.”
“And we have way too many of the pricks,” Curt agreed.
DeWitt shook his head up and down as he stared inside the snifter. “They grapple for accounts, compromise ethics to generate billable hours and for the most part won’t represent anyone that doesn’t have money.”
“No arguments from us.”
“After several years of being in business together, Judge Porter and I had a falling out over these very principles.”
“What happened?”
“It’s not important. We’ll save it for another day.” That was an answer that J Dub and Curt didn’t want to hear. DeWitt was opening up. J Dub grabbed the snifter for a refill. “As dishonest as we were in law school we quickly found that we had to be more unethical to survive on the streets.”
