Abducted

by David R Lewis

  “Uh, two.”

  “It’s who he is, Ruby. And you can’t have it both ways. He has to either hide from the world or participate in it, and his participation ain’t always gonna be nice. He can exist or he can live. And it looks like to me, without any help from you, that he just chose to live a little. What’s got your knickers up your butt is that he made that choice all by himself.”

  “How the hell do you know so much about it?”

  Clete smiled. “’Cause I’m the same way.”

  Ruby started to say something but couldn’t. She watched Clete come around the end of the counter and walk to within a foot of where she stood. When he spoke, his voice was soft and his eyes were shining.

  “And so are you, darlin’. And that can make it awful or that can make it fun, but it ain’t never gonna make it easy.”

  “It scares me, Clete,” Ruby said, tears slowly running down her face.

  He smiled. “You spent years with Crockett on your own terms. You’d see him ever few months, have a good time, get your Crockett fix, then stick him back in the box and put him away until you needed him again. That was fine with Crockett, ‘cause he didn’t want to come out much, anyway. You did that believing that you wanted him to get a life. To come out and play. To live in the world again. It worked, sweetheart. He’s out. Now, he has to live with that and so do you. Crockett made his choice. Plain truth is simple. You take Crockett the way he is, or you get the hell out of his life. Can’t be halfway. All or nothin’. Now you got your choice to make.”

  Ruby’s tears were now coursing down her cheeks. She stood small and fragile, afraid and in pain. Clete touched her face.

  “The good thing is,” he whispered, “is that ya don’t have to choose today.”

  A sob welled from Ruby’s throat and she moved into him.

  Clete held her while she cried.

  The morning dawned sunny and cool. Crockett got up later than usual, fixed his own breakfast, then spent the balance of the morning emptying the gray and black tanks on the Pequod and setting the coach up behind Watkins Inn. Everything he needed except septic was available for hookup and the graveled area was close enough to level the bus’s suspension system easily compensated. He extended the awning and attached insect netting, laid down the padded tarp, dragged out a couple of lawn chairs and the small grill, strung the outside lights, set up the table and workspace, and prepared for several days. As he was finishing, Mazy walked out to inspect his efforts. He handed her a fresh cup of coffee when she stepped through the netting.

  “Thanks,” she said, looking around. “Not bad. Unnecessary, but nice. You can stay inside, you know. Your own bedroom and bath, satellite TV, internet access, all the comforts of home. Heck of a deal, Crockett.”

  “It is,” he agreed. “Please don’t think that I’m ungrateful. I’m just kind of used to the bus. Besides, how do I know that you wouldn’t try to take advantage of me in the darkness of night.”

  “I have amazing self-control,” Mazy said.

  “Yeah, sure,” Crockett sneered. “I’ve heard about you farmer’s daughters. Disgusting the way you take advantage of men.”

  “My daddy was a truck driver.”

  “Right. That’s your story.”

  “Want lunch? Grilled tuna salad sandwiches, German potato salad, coconut cream pie, and coffee.”

  “A trucker, huh?” Crockett said, sidling in Mazy’s direction. “That ain’t so bad. Have I misjudged your intentions?”

  “God, you’re a mess.”

  “Let’s talk about it over lunch, darling,” Crocket went on, gallantly holding the netting aside for her so they could leave for the motel.

  “Fine. Zeb should be done making the coffee by now.”

  “Zeb’s in there?”

  Mazy smiled. “Absolutely.”

  “Rats,” Crockett said.

  After lunch, Crockett loitered around for a while, then drove into Clinton to gas up the H2 and restock the Pequod’s empty larder. His trip was delayed at a local Dodge dealership as he considered trading vehicles and it was late afternoon before he dawdled his way past the campground, his head filled with facts and figures on a new Ram. When he turned the corner and the lakeside of the Inn came in sight, he actually gave a start. There, crouched on the boat ramp parking area, was a black Bell 430 helicopter, its rotor blades drooping slightly in the early evening sun. Beside the helo stood Mazy and Stitch. Crockett accelerated to the aircraft and got out of the truck.

  “Hey, dude!” Stitch said, advancing on Crockett with an outstretched hand. “Nice place ya got here.”

  “Stitch!” Crockett cried, grabbing the hand and moving in for a brief hug. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Like, ah, ol’ Clete called me, ya know? Said you were down here screwin’ around and ya might be, ah, lonesome. Thought I’d buzz down an’ give ya some shit, man.”

  “Good to see ya.”

  “You too, dude. Man, this place is really, ah, pretty, ya know?”

  Crockett turned to Mazy. “I see you’ve already met our hostess.”

  Stitch grinned. “Yeah. Mazy an’ me been, like, getting’ acquainted. Met ol’ Zeb, too. He had to go somewhere, so he, like, split.”

  Mazy chuckled. “I thought the government was coming to get us when that black helicopter came roaring across the lake. Zeb almost went to get a gun.”

  “Sorry, man,” Stitch said. “I didn’t wanna freak you dudes or nothin’.”

  Mazy looked at Crockett. “Can I expect any more of your friends to drop out of the sky?”

  “He’s only got one more friend, man,” Stitched said. “And I brought him with me.”

  Crockett looked puzzled. “Who?”

  “Ol’ Nudge, dude.”

  “Nudge is here?”

  “Yeah. He’s around here someplace. Man! Can that fucker, ah…sorry. Can that cat yell or what? We weren’t fifty feet off the ground, man, when ol’ Nudge started in. There were sounds commin’ outa that cat that ain’t never been heard by human ears before, man. I tried to settle him down, ya know? No freakin’ way. Wow! If I hadn’t a had my headset an’ a couple a CD’s, man, I’d woulda evacuated the aircraft. The Grateful Dead an’ the Doobie Brothers saved my life, Crockett. No shit.”

  Crockett grinned. “Nudge okay?”

  “Oh yeah. Soon as we hit the ellzee he shut up an’ wandered off. I ain’t seen him for a while. Nothin’ around here is big enough to fuck with…damn. Sorry, Mazy.”

  Mazy smiled. “Relax, Stitch. I’ve heard it before.”

  “Far out. Ain’t nothin’ around here gonna screw with ol’ Nudge, man.”

  “That is the biggest cat I ever saw,” Mazy said.

  “Yeah,” Crockett replied. “A vet put him on a scale once and he came in at nearly thirty-nine pounds.”

  Stitch turned to Mazy. “He’s a moose, man,” he said. “But he’s way cool. I knew the dude over twenty years ago. His name was Freaky then. But he like, died, ya know? It was a real treat to run into him again.”

  Mazy blinked at Stitch for a moment and took a step backward. “Ah, I’m gonna go start dinner,” she said. “Meatloaf and stuff okay with everybody?”

  “Far out,” Stitch said.

  “Okay then. I’ll be, ah…” Mazy turned and started up the hill.

  “She’ll get used to me, man,” Stitch said, watching her walk away.

  “That could take some time,” Crockett said. “C’mon, I’ll show you the place and get you a Coke down in the bait shop.”

  Stitch looked around as they walked out to the dock. There, perched on the railing over the carp pool was Nudge, intently watching the fish as they milled below him. Maggie sat a respectful distance away, watching the cat. The footfalls of the approaching humans alerted the carp, and they jammed together, their gaping mouths thrust upward in fishy greed. Nudge hissed quietly and drew back a bit. Crockett called his name and the cat abandoned the watery exhibition and jumped to the dock. “Meaowfff,�
� he said, and trotted to head-bump Crockett’s shins. Chuckling, Crockett knelt down to return the greeting.

  “Whoa! Gross, dude!” Stitch said, peering down at the carp. “All those mouths pointin’ at ya. These fuckers are trippin’!”

  “Yeah. The tourists buy bread and dog food to feed them. Zeb says that people stand out here for hours watching the damn things.”

  “Wow! There must, like, be a million of ‘em in there, man. Maybe more. Big fuckers, too!”

  “Life on the lake,” Crockett said. “You set up a couple of those lawn chairs, I’ll get us Cokes.”

  They sat quietly for a few moments, watching evening slip across the water, before Stitch spoke up.

  “Fuck’s goin’ on, man?”

  “Where?”

  “Ah, Valparaiso, Indiana, man. Where the fuck you think?”

  Crockett chuckled. “Just been offered a job by the folks here at the marina. Thought I’d take it.”

  “What kinda job?”

  “Police Chief.

  “C’mon, man. Gimmie a break. Clete said you asked about some dude that was probably with the mob or somethin’.”

  “That’s what he said, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And he sent you out here to make sure I didn’t get my ass in a sling.”

  Stitch grinned. “Naw,” he said. “He sent me out here so you wouldn’t get your ass in a sling all by yourself.”

  Crockett laughed. “Okay. Nice to have you in country.”

  “Hey, man. Can’t let the best door gunner I ever had wander around in the elephant grass all by his lonesome. What’s going down, dude?”

  “Maybe nothing. A guy affiliated with one of the casinos in Kansas City was down here trying to buy this place. There’s a loophole involved with this property that could allow a gambling boat on the lake. Mazy and Zeb told him they wouldn’t sell. He said they should. They said no. He threatened them a little. I had a drink with him. He’s an asshole. Zeb and Mazy asked me to stick around. Thought I would. How you doin’?”

  “Pretty okay. Ivy sent me to a couple of doctors she knows. They pretty much freaked out at what the VA was givin’ me. Put me on some new shit. I sleep better, I don’t get a sick stomach, my memory is a lot better, and I can concentrate easier. I’m still a little fucked up, man, but now I know I am, ya know? When ya know somethin’ like that, it’s easier to deal with. Like, ya make allowances for yourself. Dig?”

  Crockett smiled. “Yeah, Stitch. I dig.”

  “So, it’s like now I know I’m fucked up, an’ I also know that I’m not as fucked up as I usta be. Cool, huh?”

  “Yeah. How long you gonna be around?”

  “Got no place to go, man. You want me to hang, I’ll hang. You want me to go, I’ll probably hang around anyway. Ha! Clete thinks this could get a little shitty. Plus, he’s kinda concerned about you. Thinks your head might not be on real straight. I told him you were probably a lot better than he thought, man. No offense, but havin’ ol’ Ruby not hangin’ on your gun arm anymore might make things a little easier.”

  Stitch took a slug of Coke and gathered his thoughts. Crockett waited.

  “Don’t get me wrong, dude. I got nothin’ against Ruby, but that chick could break an bowlin’ ball in a marshmallow factory, man. She can raise an eyebrow and fuck you up for days. Chicks like that, man, can take your ass over an’ you don’t even know it! And they don’t either. It’s a lot of that for your own good crap. Now, I like Ruby. Plus, she can just walk in a room an’ make every dick in the joint hard. I mean, the broad has got ammunition, ya know? And that can be really nice, but it can also be a real bitch, too. A woman like that can screw up a dozen men tougher than either one of us when she’s just tryin’ to take care of herself!”

  Stitch stood up and walked to a trashcan to dump his empty Coke can. He returned to his seat and sighed.

  “So, I’m gonna get to it, Crockett. Now don’t freak and throw my moldy ass in the lake, okay?”

  Crockett smiled. “Okay.”

  “I been talkin’ to Ivy and Clete about you an’ Ruby. That motherfucker dragged you around by your dick even when she was a dick-hater, man. Really, she still is a dick-hater. She loves you, dude. But it’d be a lot simpler if you didn’t have a pee-pee. I mean, Ivy thinks you an’ her belong together, an’ maybe you do, but you been thinkin’ it was some kinda partnership, man. Bullshit! It wasn’t no partnership. It wasn’t even management and labor. It was damn near slavery. From what I’ve heard, you an’ Ruby been playin’ some kinda game or other for nearly twenty years, man. Jesus! You a fuckin’ masochist or something?”

  “It’s been different,” Crockett said.

  “Different? It’s been sick. An’ you, you asshole, go off and do whatever it is you gotta do, an’ she flies off the fuckin’ handle and treats you like shit or takes off ‘cause she’s afraid you’re gonna get fucked up or killed, right?”

  “Yeah,” Crockett said, feeling his ears get warm.

  “Crap, man! Absolute fuckin’ crap. She treated you like shit or took off because you did something without her fuckin’ permission. Answer me this, dude. Back when ol’ Ruby was gay, she ever offer to fix you up with some chick to get you laid, man?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ever do it?”

  “No.”

  “Kinda nice when you got a dog that’s so broke that when you take him off the leash he still won’t leave your side, huh, Crockett? Really proves to you how well you trained that fucker, don’t it. Shows your ass how much control you got, huh? That’s what it’s all about for Ruby, man. Control. You an’ her ain’t never gonna get your shit together until you get this control thing worked out, man. Stop an’ think how many times you do what she wants, and how many times she does what you want. Better yet, think about how many times you really even want anything, man, except waitin’ for what Ruby wants. The good doctor is stone fucked up, Crockett. Then again, so are you. But bein’ on your own is some pretty good therapy.”

  Stitch looked at the darkening water for a moment, then grinned.

  “That Mazy is a cute little shit,” he said. “You an her doin’ the wild thing?”

  “Jesus, Stitch,” Crockett said.

  “That’s an honest question, man. She’s a lot of woman. You an’ her ain’t rollin’ around in the sleepin’ bag?”

  “No, we’re not.”

  “Hard to believe. I gotta ask ya a pretty personal question then, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “You ain’t made friends with one a them carp, have ya?”

  Crockett cracked up.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Zeb returned with a new winch for one of his boat trailers a little after five and meatloaf was served a little before six. Stitch shoveled his third helping of scalloped potatoes onto his plate and commented on a photograph sitting on one of the living room end tables.

  “Who’s the Jarhead,” he asked.

  “What?” Mazy replied.

  “The Jarhead. The Marine in the picture. Who is he?”

  “My son.”

  “No shit. Good lookin’ kid. He alive?”

  Mazy gave a slight start. “Last we heard he was.”

  “That’s cool. Lotsa people keep pictures of dead military types around. Had to ask. Where is he?”

  “Afghanistan.”

  “Wow. Nasty place. Don’t seem like we ever get in a war someplace nice, ya know? I mean, the ‘Nam was slimy an’ hot an’ wet an’ shitty with leeches an’ shit, an’ now we’re over in some hell-hole that’s gritty an’ hot’ an dry an’ shitty with camel spiders and shit. Next war oughta be in freakin’ Indiana or someplace, ya know? Somewhere nice. Everybody would be a lot less pissed off. What’s your kid do?”

  “He’s a radar specialist.”

  “Button pusher. Far out. Lot safer than bein’ a sand doggie.”

  Mazy smiled. “You were in Vietnam?”

  “Sure.”

  “That where you and Croc
kett met?”

  Stitch shook his head. “Naw. Ol’ Crockett was a draft-dodger. Ran off to Canada, joined an ashram, sat around and hummed a bunch a shit while I defended the red, white an’ blue, man. Peacenik. You know the type. Besides, back in those days, if you were queer, the army wouldn’t let ya in.”

  The table was silent for a beat before Zeb started the laughter. When things settled down, Mazy turned to Crockett.

  “You weren’t in the service?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  “Stitch’s story is a lot more entertaining than the truth,” Crockett grinned. “I tried to join but I had a common kidhood knee ailment and didn’t pass the physical. By the time it cleared up I was a cop. The way things were at home back then, they left cops alone. We were needed on the front line here. By the time I enlisted Vietnam was over anyway. I missed it.”

  “Ol’ Crockett may not have been in the ‘Nam,” Stitch said, “but he’s a helluva door gunner.”

  “Stitch…” Crockett said.

  “Hey, man. That’s all I’m gonna say. These people got a right to know a little bit.”

  “About what?” Mazy asked.

  “About the fact that I have dropped Crockett’s ass in the weeds a time or two. He don’t fade in the shade, man. He does the job an’ gets back to the ellzee on time. Ask anybody.”

  Crockett smiled. “Air-Cav,” he said.

  Stitch nodded. “In an’ out, never a doubt, man.”

  The room was silent for a moment.

  As it should have been.

  Ruby LaCost and Cletus Marshal sat at a table for two in the Macaroni Grill. As Ruby took another bite of her stuffed shells, Clete looked at her over his manicotti. The candlelight turned her skin to burnished copper and reflected pleasantly off her blue silk sheath.

  “Kinda quiet tonight, Miz Ruby,” he said. “What’s on your mind?”

  Ruby took a sip of her Pinot Noir. “Have I really been that mean to Crockett?”