James Ross - A Young Adult Trilogy (Prairie Winds Golf Course)

by James Ross

  “I drank some beer with Stud the other night. I think that caused it.”

  “Not sex with God knows how many other people?”

  “I’m real cautious about that,” Kitty said. “I thought cranberry juice would help it but I think it made it worse.” She scratched her crotch. Her innocent face attempted to cure his bruised feelings.

  “What about the money?” The businessman in Tanner sprang forward.

  “You’ll have to talk to Stud about that.”

  Tanner looked at the imposing site of his new acquaintance on the couch. One hand was manipulating the pad. The other hand was on his left knee. He looked up occasionally to stay updated on the progress of the wrestling match. Stud nonchalantly shrugged.

  “You two are what is wrong with society today!” Tanner started into a diatribe. “You knew all along that you weren’t going to do anything!” He stopped and thought back. “How long have you been playing me?”

  Kitty’s tears began to flow. A large drop rolled down her cheek. “No.” The sobs increased. She looked at Stud. “Rent is due. We need the money.”

  Buchanon put his pants on. Tanner paced the room. “I think that I’ve seen it all, but the performance you two just put on tops the list!”

  Kitty inched toward her conquest. She got her mouth close to Tanner. He pulled his head back. “It’s not just us.” She fiddled with his shirt collar. “It’s takes two to tango.”

  Tanner pushed her away. “Screw you.” He turned to Buchanon. “Let’s go.” The defeated pair exited.

  Five seconds after the departure Kitty turned to Stud. “Did you get it?”

  Stud endorsed the innovative video phone service. “This new Presto site is neat.” Kitty edged to the TV room and looked over his shoulder. The rewind had finished loading. Stud pressed the play button. The actions of the group were replayed in living color.

  “That’s beautiful! You can even hear the crispness of the money.”

  CHAPTER 74

  “Where’s the green beer?” Captain Jer said as Julie placed a can of his favorite brand in front of him. March 17th had arrived. The snow had melted.

  “At the tavern.” She popped the tab and poured the brew into a frosted glass. “We don’t have enough volume to dye the keg green.”

  “It only takes a few drops of food coloring.”

  “Yeah and you can’t drink a keg in one day.”

  Jer flashed a devilish smile. “But I can try.”

  “No thank you. We’ll have green beer for a month.”

  “Trot and I stopped at the Landing and had green eggs with cabbage and corn beef.”

  “What time was that?”

  “We got there at six this morning.”

  “Didn’t want to miss any drinking time?”

  “I paced.” Captain Jer was smug. “I can when I want to.” He licked his lips. “Why don’t you get me a shot of Irish whiskey? My taste buds feel activated. We need to commemorate this wonderful day.” Jerry circled his index finger in the air. “Get a shot for everybody else.”

  “Trot’s the only other one in here.”

  “Momma didn’t raise no fool.”

  “I’m the designated driver,” Trot said. “No thanks.” Jer grinned. The early brews were starting to kick in.

  Like revolutions of the earth the boys filtered in. Within thirty minutes the gang was laughing and joking. Doc and DeWitt came through the door. Even though he didn’t golf, the retired lawyer liked hanging with the crowd. Because of his profession the fellas accepted him with guarded skepticism.

  Aieshia and Carla arrived with Pabby and Shae.

  Doc gave a racing form to Pabby. “Guess what’s getting ready to start?”

  “The horses?”

  “We can try to figure out some winners at the parks down south or out west. The racing won’t start here for a few more months.” Doc threw around the word “we” like he had a lot of input.

  J Dub walked across the room and shook Uncle Woo’s hand. Pork Chop had dressed him for the holiday. He wore a green four-leaf clover beret. A “Kiss Me I’m Irish” badge was attached to his shirt. Green suspenders held his pants in place. He waved at the guys and yelled, “Merry Christmas.”

  “I need to thank this young man for helping us with FOBS,” J Dub began.

  “What is it?” Fred asked.

  “Friends of Bighead Southstar.”

  “After Uncle Woo’s chant Curt found it on the computer. We’re still digging for more info.”

  “What’s the significance?”

  “It’s a secret society of some sort.”

  “How did it get its name?”

  “Bighead and Southstar are two dark forces from the Native Americans.”

  “The Indians?”

  “Yep. And the society has something to do with lawyers. Keep your ears open. We need to find out all we can.”

  “Tap DeWitt for some information,” Fred yapped. He was not aware that J Dub had already met with the retired barrister. “He is one of them.”

  “Then he might appreciate this one,” Trot suggested. He advanced to BowTye’s corner and grabbed a broom.

  “Uh oh,” Julie blurted. “We better be ready whether we want to be or not.”

  “How does an attorney sleep?” the comedian barked. Blank looks were abundant. “First he lies on one side and then the other.”

  Groans were followed by silent chuckles. “Trot, spare us this morning. Pleeeeease,” Julie begged.

  Trot looked in her direction. “I mean it was soooo cold last month that…” He prompted Julie by rolling his hand in her direction.

  “I give up, Trot. How cold?”

  “So cold that I saw a lawyer with his hand in his own pocket.” More groans followed and then a hearty belly laugh came from Pork Chop.

  The performer was in his element. He loved playing to the crowd. “Why do lawyers display a copy of their bar association card on their dashboard?”

  “Why?”

  “So they can park in handicap zones.”

  “I know one that did that!”

  Trot turned to Julie. “Did you hear about the lady lawyer that dropped her briefs and became a solicitor?” A dumbfounded look followed.

  He was just starting. “What do lawyers use as contraceptives?”

  “That one is really ooooold,” Julie complained.

  “Their personalities.” He turned to Julie and gave her a high five. “Yeah, I know but it is true.” He paused and thought for a second. “If one useless man is considered a disgrace, what are two useless men?”

  “You’ve got me.”

  “A law firm.” The guys erupted.

  “Don’t stop now,” Captain Jer prompted. He was holding his side.

  “What’s the ideal weight of a lawyer?” Blank looks were abundant. “About three pounds including the urn.”

  DeWitt laughed heartily after that one.

  Trot turned to his drinking buddy. “Hey Jer, did you hear about the lawyer that said his last good case was Budweiser?”

  After the laughter had subsided Trot continued. “Did you hear about the lawyer that took Viagra?”

  “No, what happened?” Julie asked.

  “He grew taller!”

  Aieshia about fell out of her seat. “Because dey are all…” She looked at Pabby and Shae.

  “I’ll say it for you. Dicks!”

  Trot turned to Scottie P. “Have you ever wondered why you don’t see lawyers sunbathing on the beach?” A shrug of the shoulders followed. “Because cats keep covering them up with sand.”

  Aieshia grabbed her side. She had the giggles. Her belly was shaking. The eyes were watering.

  “Hey YouWho, you’ll like this one. Did you hear about the new sushi bar downtown that caters to lawyers?”

  The Japanese immigrant shook his head.

  “It’s called Sosumi.” Before the amusement had subsided he was on to the next one. “Why did the post office recall all the lawyer stamps?”
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  “Why?”

  “The public didn’t know which side to spit on.”

  “We have to let him go for a few more,” Captain Jer pleaded. “He brushed up on his material for the Irish pubs.”

  “Hey, Jer! You’ll like this one. What do you call a lawyer gone bad?” The pilot was speechless. “Your honor.”

  Trot turned to Paul who was grabbing his side. “Liked that one, did you? What do you call a judge gone bad?” Paul had a blank look. “Senator.”

  “Hey Curt, do you know the difference between a good lawyer and a great lawyer?” Curt shook his head. “A good lawyer knows the law. A great lawyer knows the judge!”

  Trot turned to Aieshia. “How do you get a group of lawyers to smile for a picture?” She had no idea. “Just say ‘Fees!’”

  Aieshia lost it. “Trot, you gotta stop.” She clutched her side.

  Trot looked at her, crazed. “What’s wrong with lawyer jokes?” The whites of Aieshia’s wide eyes matched her teeth. “Lawyers don’t think they’re funny and no one else thinks they’re jokes.” He took a deep breath.

  “You know that there are only three lawyer jokes.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “All the rest are true stories.”

  “Are you done?” Julie asked.

  “Done! Give me a beer.”

  CHAPTER 75

  Willard Butts had a drive of about eighty miles from Springfield. After driving for two and a half hours from Chicago Jake Russell had seventy-five miles left from Peoria. It was “old home” week for him. Their destination was Macomb—the home of Western Illinois University.

  “We got a little bit of a bonus,” Willard Butts said to his professional acquaintance. The two were forced to spend a few spring days in Macomb during a criminal justice conference on the college campus.

  When in Rome do as the Romans do. A downtown watering hole named Max’s was good for cold beer and hot wings. It was a nice respite from monotonous meetings and boring seminars.

  “What did you get?”

  Willard, whose personality was stifled by working for the ARDC, let his hair down. “Check this out.” He shared some laughs and several sips while his laptop booted up. The pair studied the pair of figures. “Recognize anyone?”

  “Is that Judge Porter?” Jake asked.

  Willard’s broad smile could have lit up a Hollywood screen. “He fell into our laps.”

  “At least he could wear fashionable boxers.” The duo chuckled. “He’s old enough to be her grandfather.”

  “There wasn’t any sex, but you can see the money change hands. The intent was there.”

  “She’s good, isn’t she?”

  Butts nodded. “How did you find her?’

  “I’m glad you could use her. Morgan first worked undercover trying to catch sexual predators. It was an Internet sting. A mom found out her daughter had invented an alias online. She panicked when it had progressed. The girl had been posing as a college student. An older guy scheduled a meet-up. He didn’t know anything. Mom was going to pose as the girl but thought twice about that. Instead she went to the cops.”

  “It’s an epidemic with girls that need attention.”

  “And a possible prison sentence for a guy that doesn’t know.”

  “But when they meet it’s a different scene.”

  “Yeah, but these fourteen-year-old girls can look like college coeds.”

  “And the guy gets nabbed when mom finds out.”

  “They should know better.”

  “Yeah, but you know guys. Have you had a chance to meet her?”

  “No. That’s the irony of the thing. It was an online connection.”

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “I can see that thanks to Presto.”

  “She worked for a 1-800 number through college. It was one of those pull-a-credit-card-out-and-pay-for-three-minutes type of phone sex services.”

  “That’s a creative job for a college girl.”

  “That job taught her the lingo and it carried over to her fingers. She knew the right things to type. We were LOL at some of her IMs.” Willard took a drink of beer. “What really distinguishes her is her voice. Have you heard her speak?”

  “No, only what’s on this video.”

  “Her voice is hot! It’s seductive. Soft, breathy, enticing. When you throw in the Southern accent I can see how guys melt over the phone when their imaginations run wild.”

  “Yeah, it’s tough to walk away from that,” Jake said as he circled the wagons for another beer. “Anyway I’m glad you could use her. She’s a great PI.”

  “It was simple. Tanner hit on her months ago. She kept him on the string. The guy was relentless.”

  Jake watched as Willard picked the recording up from the beginning. He laughed as the judge dropped his pants and tried to kick his feet free, almost tripping onto the bed. They would watch it many, many more times as the beers went down. “Presto has great resolution.”

  “And we still have some more work to do.”

  CHAPTER 76

  Shae had the colored pencils spread out on the table in the clubhouse. She was busy, but the mood was melancholy. The simple task of picking up a writing utensil and holding it was a challenge for her. With her two middle fingers practically attached to the palm of her hand she managed by holding the pencil with her thumb and index finger with balance from the pinkie.

  “What did you do with your hair?” Julie asked.

  Shae stopped, looked up and pushed her black rimmed glasses up higher on her nose. Seeking acceptance she asked, “Do you like?”

  “Yes. That’s a trendy look.”

  The teen had dyed strands of her hair green, yellow, purple, red and orange. Just a few strands were colored and they blended in well with her dark hair color. The customary yellow band was present causing a poof of hair on the top of her head. “Thank you. I saw it in a magazine.”

  “You look as bright as a rainbow.”

  Shae smiled and continued working on her project. “Do you think this is nice?” She held up a Mother’s Day card.

  The moment struck Julie. She turned her head. The thought of making a card for a woman that wasn’t her mother was almost too much. “Shae, it’s beautiful.”

  “I’m giving this to Mrs. Porter.” She picked up another card and held it for Julie to see. “This one is for Carla.”

  “You’ve got hidden talents. These are precious.”

  “Here’s another one.” She held it up. “Pabby wanted me to make one for Mrs. J Dub. He’s really excited to finally have a mom.” The formal adoption date was only a few weeks away.

  No words seemed appropriate. Julie was choking back tears. She stumbled out, “Shae…”

  “Do you have kids?”

  Julie still couldn’t speak. She nodded her head up and down.

  “Can I make one for you too?”

  “That’s so thoughtful, but it looks like you have your hands full here.”

  “You can help me,” Fred barked from the back booth. He had a large piece of poster board out and was struggling with the lettering. “We’ve got to get this scorecard up for the boys to post their scores on.” Names were misspelled, the lettering inconsistent and the overall format looked sloppy and out of place. He rocked back and forth then huffed himself to his feet. He waddled to Shae, arms swaying a foot from his side and slapped the poster board down. Frustrated, Fred said, “Here’s the back side. We have to start over. I’m no artist. You do it. Help me out.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Make it real pretty. Put the spaces for the dates at the top. The names go down the left side. Give recognition to last year’s winner somewhere high on the board.”

  “Pabby?”

  “Yeah, Pabby.” Fred brushed his hand over his flat top. “But don’t give any recognition to J Dub and Doc. Even though they backed him, Pabby did all the work.” He turned and returned to his seat at the back booth.

  Sh
ae turned to Julie and asked, “Where are all of them today?”

  “J Dub and Doc took Pabby out to the lake to get him ready for the big race.”

  “That reminds me,” Shae said as she dug in her bag. “I have to put the final touches on the finish line.” She pulled out a decorated string that had been braided with multi-colored threads. “The race is this Saturday. I hope he wins.”

  “If he doesn’t, it won’t be because J Dub and Doc don’t have him prepared.”

  On the course…

  The green and yellow Gator was parked underneath a towering cottonwood tree. J Dub and Doc watched as Pabby worked up a good sweat running along the perimeter of the woods.

  “Let’s have you sprint along the dam wall down here to the finish line,” J Dub said as he pointed to where he wanted Pabby to start. “One last sprint before the big race.”

  Pabby’s lumbering frame jogged down to the far end of the lake. He stopped to catch his breath.

  “I’ll yell for you to start and we’ll time you.” Pabby nodded. “Did you catch your breath?” With open mouth Pabby inhaled deeply and nodded.

  “On your mark. Get ready. Go!”

  Pabby burst into full speed. For a kid with an oversized body he was surprisingly fast. As J Dub and Doc watched it became obvious that the kid had a realistic chance of winning his age bracket. Eyes were on the stopwatch as Pabby crossed the finish line.

  “Well done!” J Dub screamed.

  Pabby slowed to a halt. He bent over and placed his hands on his knees. As he caught his breath a commotion came from the bushes. A male Canada goose attacked. The wing span was at least five feet. It was hissing and honking, flying less than three feet off the ground. In an instant it struck Pabby and nipped at his neck.

  “Get it away! Get it away!” He flailed his arms. With knees up to his chest and arms swinging wildly, Pabby took off across the fairway.

  “Damn,” J Dub yelled.

  “Get it away! Get it away!” The goose circled and made a watery landing.

  “It’s okay!” J Dub hollered. “Everything’s all right.”

  “No, I’m scared!”

  “Stay there and we’ll come get you.”

  “Quick!”

  “Don’t worry, the goose is in the lake.”