Bubba and the Curious Cadaver

by C. L. Bevill

  Bubba was hopeful about that, too. “You mean, you ready to—” he glanced at his mother—“call those folks I was hoping you would call earlier and all?”

  “I mean buying this place from Bob,” Bam Bam said. “He said it was a producer, that the girls were like happy little chipmunks playing in the park when they danced, and that money would rain down on me. He also said that he needed a break from all the financial security he had and was simplifying his life down in Mexico, or maybe it was Brazil?”

  “Bob Shufflebottom told you all that,” Miz Demetrice said and then laughed like she had never heard something so hilarious in all her life.

  Bam Bam pulled up a chair and waited with obvious irascibility while Miz Demetrice wound down.

  “The truth be that folks got their computers, their laptops, and their smartphones,” Bam Bam added. “Don’t be needing to come down to Bazooka Bob’s to see pretty girls dancing. They can watch it on YouTube for free.” He frowned. “I need another shot of scotch. You ready to give me back that key, Bubba?”

  “No scotch, Bam Bam,” Bubba said.

  Bam Bam glowered. “Later.”

  Miz Demetrice’s laughter finally died away as she obviously comprehended what Bam Bam had said. “You mean you’re having problems staying in business?”

  “HVAC system needed to be replaced,” Bam Bam said. “There were termites on the back half of the place that needed treatment. I had to get three special permits to add on structural sets for the girls. They need their little booths and mirrors to get changed and keep all their stuff in, you know. Then I had to hire Leslie, and he wasn’t cheap because he is that good of a chef, so I been living in the back room because I can’t afford to keep a separate place.” He glanced around them. “Don’t be telling the girls because they would offer a spare bedroom or such. Or worse they would start bailing the sinking ship.” He paused to briefly glare at Miz Demetrice. “Then there’s all this union business. I got nothing against a union, mind you, but if these girls ask for a pay raise then I might as well go shut the BB sign off and smash the neon lights to smithereenies.”

  “Oh dear,” Miz Demetrice said. She ran her manicured hand over the table as if judging its worthiness. “Is it a done deal, then?”

  Bubba knew what his mother was asking Bam Bam; was Bazooka Bob’s about to close up forever and more? He knew the answer. Bob had sold Bam Bam a bum steer and hauled his keister for southern climes where the beer was cheaper and the extradition laws nonexistent, so the IRS couldn’t touch him. Bam Bam had fallen for it like a fish going after tempting bait. The employees were just collateral damage. The final outrage was the body in the bathroom. Sure it might have once been John J. Johnson the Third, possible relative to an adopted Bam Bam Jones, but it was also the last straw that broke the camel’s G-string.

  Bam Bam looked at Bubba, who shook his head slowly. Then Bam Bam shook his head slowly. “I’ve been trying to keep it afloat, but I reckon I need to tell all the girls and Leslie to start looking for a job. I can keep it going for a bit longer, but I—” he glanced over his shoulder toward the entrance into the kitchens and the office area where the locked bathroom clearly loomed over him like the spinning, electrified, tassel-encrusted sword of Damocles— “don’t think it’s going to keep for very much longer.”

  Miz Demetrice pursed her lips. Bubba had a very good idea what his mother was thinking: Did I cause this? If yes, was I primarily the cause? If no, then can I skip the feeling guilty part? If yes, can I go ahead and see what to do about all these poor soon-to-be-unemployed girls? “Obviously, we need to see if we can maintain employment or find new occupations for these poor girls.”

  “Ain’t poor girls, Ma,” Bubba said. “I think that kind of denigrates them and their lawful employment here.”

  Miz Demetrice shrugged delicately. Bubba was secretly happy. If his mother was otherwise occupied on keeping everyone employed, then she wouldn’t be wandering in the back to see why it was that no one was allowed in the men’s bathroom. His mother abruptly stood up and extracted her cellphone from her purse. As she strolled off he heard her speaking into the phone, “Joe Bruce? You still working for that employment agency? Wunderbar! Let’s chat about some folks who may be out of work soonest.” Pause. “Their qualifications? Well, they’re very hard working. Night shifts are not out of the question. They are used to specialized uniforms. Some of them might be interested in the theater, for example. Dancing would be an option.”

  His mother went out of range of Bubba’s hearing, and Bam Bam said urgently, “What are we going to do, Bubba?”

  “Tell me who has keys to this place,” Bubba said, eying the buffet again.

  “Everyone. The girls, the cooks, the previous owner, his ex-wife. Did you know I caught that woman in here a month ago trying to steal the D.J. set up? She couldn’t figure out how to unplug it. It was just a damn good thing I was sleeping in the back. I couldn’t afford to change the locks, so I started getting up to patrol every couple hours.” Bam Bam threw his hands up in the air. “I’m losing hair. Folks seem to park in the lot in the middle of the night, and I can’t chase them off because they don’t seem to be hurting anything. Then one of the girls needed a place to stay for a week, and she got the back room while I slept in the Gremlin. God and everyone could have a key to B.B.’s. I should just leave the door open.”

  “And no one else was here with you last night?”

  “No, just me. And the paperwork. And I think there’s a rat who’s taken a liking to me. He comes out when it’s real quiet and steals my Cheetos. I tried to sell the place to him, but he doesn’t seem interested in becoming a proprietor of a gentlemen’s club. You wouldn’t want to buy it, Bubba, would you?”

  “I don’t think so,” Bubba answered. “I know I asked you about this, but Bam Bam, are you shore no one would want to kill you? Don’t seem likely that someone came all the way from D.C. to kill that John J. Johnson fella. Seems more likely that they might want to kill you.”

  “John J. Johnson the Third,” Bam Bam corrected. “I tole you. Ain’t no one out to get me like that. I was just talking to our friends David Beathard and Daniel Gollihugh about the benefits of karma and all that. I’ve been trying to make amends for all the bad things I’ve done. There’s a list, but I think I can whittle it down, and none of it serious enough for someone to kill me.” He scratched the top of his head. “At least I don’t think it is.”

  The fact that Bam Bam was now friends with David Beathard, who was an on and off again resident of the Dogley Institute for Mental Well-Being and had a multitude of personas such as a psychiatrist, super hero, and pirate, and Dan Gollihugh, who was a seven-foot-tall born-again Buddhist and former terror of the county, did not particularly surprise Bubba.

  “Bam Bam!” Granny Goodbang yelled. “The girls’ potty has gone to hell in a handbasket!”

  “I gots to take care of that,” Bam Bam said and rushed off.

  Bubba was about to hit the buffet again when the front door slammed open and there was a rush of sunlight that threatened to blind all the occupants. That wasn’t nearly as disconcerting as the beauteous and pregnant sheriff’s deputy who stood in the doorway looking as if she was about to pull out her official weapon and start shooting.

  Chapter 9

  Bubba and Willodean and

  Then Not Willodean

  Tuesday, August 22nd

  What was it that folks say about when something is too good to be true, then it can’t possibly be true? Bubba had often thought about that in terms of his life. He had sterling shining moments where he felt like he had it good, awfully, wonderfully, tremendously good, in a way that was tempting fate to even it up. He was healthy, married to the woman he desperately loved, and his life wasn’t terrible. True, it had been interspersed with the odd dead body and with people who felt it was their destiny to frame or kill Bubba, or in some cases both in whatever order suited the evildoer, but he had persevered. Perhaps it was God’s way of levelin
g the field for Bubba, but then came moments like this one, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the gravy train had ceased its journey on the way to the land of milk and honey…and more gravy?

  Truly, Willodean Gray Snoddy was a magnificent sight to behold. Her black hair was the color of the 1982 Pontiac Trans Am from in the 1980s series Knight Rider. Her lips were as red as a stop sign on a beautiful country road on a bright sunny afternoon on the way to the old fishing hole. Her skin was as creamy as the birch handles of his grandfather’s antique bearing-scraper. Ah, she was incredible. Clever, lovely, and he was married to her. (At least he was married to her for the next five minutes and the continuation of which was contingent upon how well he explained himself to her.)

  Pros: Miz Demetrice was front and present, so how could he be up to chicanery? Also, Kiki Rutkowski was present, and Willodean knew that Bubba looked upon the dreadlocked college student as his little sister, a sister who had once helped Bubba locate Willodean when she had been missing. (Willodean had been briefly jealous of Kiki until he’d explained.) Finally, no music was blaring, and no exotic dancer was dancing exotically, and he especially wasn’t the eager recipient of a lap dance, which would have been forever known as the lap dance of doom, if such an unlikely thing had been occurring.

  Cons: Bubba was standing in Bazooka Bob’s, an exotic dance club, without Willodean’s prior knowledge. (Willodean wasn’t the kind of gal who wanted to know his every location every minute of the day, but this was a big deal and not in a good way.) Furthermore, Bubba was standing in Bazooka Bob’s, an exotic dance club. Additionally, Bubba was standing in Bazooka Bob’s, an exotic dance club. Lastly, Bubba was standing in Bazooka Bob’s, an exotic dance club. Why, a piece of frozen pee falling from a passing airplane should just shoot out of the sky and bean Bubba’s head because that would have been a better scenario.

  “Bubba!” Willodean yelled because why would she not yell? He froze into place as if an ice age had abruptly descended upon the eastern half of Texas in close proximity. His feet were icy appendages that were stuck in the thickest plate of a recently formed glacier, and there was no way to move or to escape the situation. “Where…” she said slowly and carefully, “…is the buffet?”

  Whereupon Bubba showed Willodean the buffet because, not only was she eating for two, but she seemed to have a hollow leg.

  * * *

  While Willodean ate, most of the employees and remaining customers of Bazooka Bob’s fled into the nether regions of the club. This was probably wise considering that Willodean was, in fact, armed with several types of lethal weapons, and of which she was considered an expert user. (The local tavern, Grubbo’s, often celebrated her supreme capability with mace. There was also the time where she reputedly shot the wings off a fly that was bothering a pet goat, but Bubba hadn’t personally witnessed that one.)

  “You helped one of Bam Bam’s dancers,” Willodean stated between bites. She paused. “These armadillo eggs are absolutely mouthwatering.”

  “She said her name was Cayenne Pepper,” Bubba said and then wished he hadn’t squealed on the poor woman.

  “I know her,” Willodean said, noticeably searching through her basket for the best armadillo egg. Bubba thought, Why does Willodean know Cayenne Pepper? Do I really want to know why?

  “She had a stalker who would follow her from the club,” Willodean explained after avidly rifling through the basket and scoring with the largest armadillo egg. “I had to dissuade him with mace and also my billy club.”

  “After I dropped her off, I noticed she’d left her purse in the truck,” Bubba explained. It sounded bad to him, but it was definitely better than, “She’d left her panties in the truck.” Much better than that. Well, she had left her purse in his truck.

  “Uh-huh,” Willodean said. Her green eyes managed to glitter at him even in the gloom of the club. Did they never put on lights in here?

  “Try some of those parmesan garlic wings,” Bubba suggested. Over Willodean’s shoulder he could see his mother still talking on her cellphone. She was in deep conversation with Joe Bruce and seemed as if something was truly intriguing her. He vaguely remembered a Joe Bruce from somewhere, but he was drawing a blank. Although, he seemed to recall that the man owned a vintage Porsche. (Bubba tended to remember people by what car they owned. The mechanic in him, of course.) Maybe it would come to him, after he discovered if his head would be remaining on his shoulders on this particular day.

  “That stupid Smithson couldn’t wait to tell me he’d seen your truck in the parking lot here,” Willodean said matter-of-factly. “Some people are such horrible gossips. I told him to stick the moving violation up his hoo-ha. Then I wrote him two more tickets for his broken taillight and for having one of those frames around the license plates. That’s illegal in this state if it obscures the words on the plate. Can’t be obscuring information, you know.” She seemed indecently satisfied with herself.

  “Mebe one of those Hawaiian BBQ Zing wings there,” Bubba advised.

  “Did you get the wood for the baby crib?” Willodean asked as she found one of the wings Bubba had recommended.

  “Yep,” Bubba said. “Good wood. Recycled wood. It was once in the floor of a church, plus I got some stuff from old pews. I figured it will be good to use something like that.”

  Willodean nodded. She had a dreamy look on her face. Bubba couldn’t understand where he stood at the moment.

  “I’ll get started on that when I get home,” Bubba said. “I was hoping to have it all planed by the time the sun went down, but stuff done happened.”

  Behind Willodean, Bubba could see Bam Bam striding nervously back and forth in front of the buffet, obviously trying to overhear what was happening between the married couple. Bubba had a very good idea that Bam Bam was afraid Bubba was going to let the falsie-covered cat out of the sequined silk bag.

  Bubba didn’t care to tell lies. It went against his nature, and often all it accomplished was to get him into trouble later when someone caught him trying to backpedal. Bam Bam wanted Bubba to lie to his own wife, and Bubba wasn’t going to do it.

  “Why haven’t I eaten here before?” Willodean lamented. “This fried okra is heavenly,” she added, wiping a little drool away from the side of her perfect mouth. “We have to come back for this food.”

  “Free buffet on Tuesdays,” Bubba said.

  “I didn’t pay the cover charge,” Willodean said with a little frown.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Bubba said. “I need to pay for Ma, too.”

  “Oh, whatever is Miz Demetrice doing here?”

  “Unionizing the labor?”

  Willodean nearly choked upon hearing that. When she chewed and then swallowed, she said, “Wait until I’ve finished my food before telling me something like that.” Bubba saw her eyes settle upon Precious getting pets from the twins, Destiny and Diamond. He realized that some of the employees had grasped that the advent of WWIII had been averted and were coming out to see if there might be secondary fireworks to observe. “You brought your dog to a strip club?” she asked.

  “Gentlemen’s club,” Bam Bam interjected from some distance away. “Maybe I should go call a plumber on account that someone flushed a cellphone down one of the toilets in the ladies room.” However, he didn’t move.

  “I couldn’t leave her in the truck,” Bubba said. “It’s just about 100 degrees out there, and the humidity is close to 90 percent.”

  “101,” Willodean corrected. “The next time we have a baby, we need to make sure the due date is in the winter time. Just saying.”

  It didn’t sound like Willodean was angry. That was good. In fact, she was talking about their next child as if it was a done deal. Bubba nearly smiled. “The chef’s giving me a to-go box for you.”

  “Late evening snack,” Willodean nodded approvingly, “but I am not sharing with Precious.” A woeful whine emanated from Precious as if she understood that she was being excluded from the food bounty.

&nb
sp; “Yep,” Bubba said because he’d run out of words that he could say without losing the ability to be able to look at himself in the mirror the next day. “I mean, nope. What do I mean?”

  “So what were you doing to help Bam Bam?” she asked with those magnificent green eyes locking on him in a way that meant he didn’t dare look away.

  Bubba couldn’t help himself. He said the very first thing that came to mind. “Dead body,” he said matter-of-factly. Bam Bam was in Bubba’s line of vision, so Bubba saw that Bam Bam had snatched an armadillo egg from the buffet and was stuffing it into his mouth just as he said the words that he shouldn’t have said. Bam Bam immediately began to thump his chest with his fist.

  Willodean laughed a deliciously wonderful sound and patted the roundness of her belly. Bubba couldn’t help himself in that regard, either. He reached over and covered her hand with his much larger one. He could feel the child kicking with one of his fingers. “She/he is a busy little person,” she said with a contentment that Bubba couldn’t mistake.

  “Shore is,” Bubba agreed. He caught sight of Bam Bam and realized that the other man was truly choking on the armadillo egg that he had just eaten. It had been Bubba’s turn earlier, so what was good for the goose, was good for the gentlemen’s club-owner gander.

  Miz Demetrice put her cellphone on a nearby table, took Bam Bam in a firm hug from behind so that her tiny clenched fists pressed at the part of his diaphragm where all the good books said they were supposed to go. Then she jerked sharply back and upward.

  Bam Bam coughed once, and the armadillo egg flew out of his mouth across the room and hit Granny Goodbang in the side of her head. Then it dropped to the floor where Precious promptly pounced on it.

  Bubba’s eyebrows lifted as he watched. Willodean turned to watch, but she’d missed most of the action. When she turned back to him he shrugged ruefully. It was just another day in Pegram County.