“That’s mighty nice of you, Doc. I sure do appreciate that.”
Doc gave a dismissive flutter of his hand while looking hard at some items on the shelf behind the cash register.
“Pedro, I almost forgot. I also need a couple quarts of beer, a bottle of Meyers rum, and some rolling papers.” The grinning merchant held up a pack of Zig Zags. “Yeah, a dozen of those, and a couple of those long wooden pipes.” Doc stood on his toes and looked up for a second, then at the counter again. “No, the ones in the glass case by the hand grenades. Yeah, those. Two.” Doc went back to reading his journal and pointed. “And better give me one of those big hookahs up on the top shelf.” Pedro pulled himself up a ladder and reached. “Might as well make it two while you’re up there.”
Taco Bob went around the counter and took the big pipes from Pedro and set them on the counter. He gave the water pipes a good look, then gave Doc one as well.
“How are things going over at the lab, Doc?”
“Oh, the same, I guess.” Doc furiously scribbled notes in the little journal which he always carried. Taco Bob ventured a probe.
“Business holding up?”
Doc looked up for just a second. “Business? Lord, yes! Busy as a cat covering up shit. Got a big order from Hollywood. Got to fly out there soon for a few days.”
“I heard you might be moving. Seen the sign in front of your place.”
“The ‘For Sale’ sign? I just did that to try to get a date with that lady realtor.” Doc looked up from his notebook and saw the concern on the possum rancher’s face. “Don’t worry. If some fool with more money than sense should buy the place, I’d just build a bigger house on the land I bought down the road where that old flophouse used to be.”
Doc gathered up his purchases and headed across the street. Taco Bob gave the paperback bookrack a cursory glance for anything new, then eased around back to check on the loading of the possum feed.
♦
Ranch hands Horse and Hazel were helping Mumbles load hundred pound sacks of possum pellets into the van when Taco Bob came out of the store. Mumbles took a small crossword-puzzle book out of his pocket and handed it to his boss who nodded his appreciation. But before Taco Bob could say thanks, they heard a car horn and looked up to see Doc drive by and wave. They all waved back. Taco Bob took a moment for reflection as he watched Doc’s car going down the road. “That Doc sure is a fine fella.”
It never took much to distract Hazel. The tough little man with the odd name took the opportunity to stop dragging sacks of feed up into the van.
“I reckon he is! Remember the time I took sick real bad and Doc was the one figured out I had a bad case of worms?”
“Mhmn mm mnm mhn m.”
“Yeah, but at least it got rid of the worms. You might ought to try a dose yourself, Mumbles. You been looking a mite wormy lately.”
“Mmhn? Mm m mnn!”
Mumbles punctuated this last by taking the next big sack of feed Horse tossed up in the truck and dropping it on Hazel’s foot. Hazel couldn’t believe it and stood there slack-jawed staring at the heavy feed sack on his foot.
“You two mind behaving a few minutes?” Taco Bob looked up from the open crossword book. “This bickering ain’t helping me get done with this crossword puzzle Mumbles was kind enough to loan to me.”
Mumbles smiled big from under his dusty old slouch hat. When his boss looked back down he stuck his tongue out at Hazel. Taco Bob wrote something in the book that seemed to satisfy him.
“Y’all get that sack of feed off Hazel so we can see what’s going on back at the possum ranch.”
They drove by Doc’s place on their way out of town. All eyes gave the sign in the front yard a wary look – and an idea germinated in the fertile mind of Taco Bob.
∨ Possum Surprise ∧
3
Nightfall
He was rarely seen, and then usually just as night came from the east spreading across the town. The old Indian man with a walking staff and empty sack would appear on the dusty streets of Possum Row and plod along slowly in the direction of the distant mountains.
Dogs that normally wouldn’t hesitate to jump a fence and run blocks to chase a stray possum or possum rancher would watch cautiously from their own yards as the white-haired man in peasant clothes passed by.
Sometimes in the faint light of dawn he could be seen coming back carrying the sack full over his shoulder. No one knew where he came from or how long he’d been in the area, and no one ever tried to follow him. Most were afraid of him without knowing why. When the old Indian man was mentioned, it was only in reference to something else and usually whispered. No one tried to talk to him or even look at him – except for one very small person; and a few of the people in Possum Row did talk about her. They said she was more wild animal than human.
∨ Possum Surprise ∧
4
Doc Seymour
Western Musings Inc. sits snugly up on the hill across the street from Pedro’s Fine Liquors and Guns, and just down the street from Humberto’s Easy Nickel. Taco Bob parked his truck in the dusty driveway, then ambled up to Doc’s front door and gave it a knocking.
He’d been inside before, plenty of times. Doc was always willing to lend a sympathetic ear or a couple bucks to Taco Bob or anyone else in town.
From outside, the place looked like your typical old redwood and stone mansion, but Doc had done some remodeling inside. Taco Bob opened the door when he heard Doc yell.
“Come in, Taco! You still want that crossword book?”
Most of the interior walls had been carefully knocked out, leaving one very large room with high ceilings. Doors led to one bedroom, a small kitchen, and a bathroom. The main room was ordered chaos. Doc sat in the middle of the room behind a large desk covered with computers, electronic gadgets, laboratory equipment, stacks of important papers, and unopened mail.
“I’d sure be proud to borrow it if you don’t mind.”
Doc spun out of his swivel chair and attacked a stack of books on the floor. Hundreds more books filled the bookshelves that covered every wall. Tall windows with billowing white curtains looked out on the town and countryside. On one side of the room an enormous television screen loomed over a cluster of overstuffed chairs and couches. The only other furniture in the vast room was a large filing cabinet stuffed with research folders filled with page after page of facts, lies, and secrets. Taco Bob leaned against the back of a chair and looked around the huge room.
“I did happen on a crossword book from Mumbles, but it was mostly finished, incorrectly.” Doc held up a book for a closer look, grunted, then dropped it over his shoulder onto the floor. “Doc, you ever see anyone cheat at crosswords? Put in extra spaces and block out others to make words fit?”
“Sure, do it all the time. Here it is. Looks like you’re in luck, too. None of the puzzles have been solved yet.”
“Thanks, Doc.” Taco Bob took the book and gave it a quick glance – beauty.
The floor of the room was strewn with more stacks of important papers, overflowing wastebaskets, and a working model train set that ran the course of the room.
“Taco, I’m glad you stopped by, maybe you can help me out.”
“Be proud to help any way I can. In fact, I’ve been thinking – ”
“Good. I’m working on another of those screenplays for some people out in Hollywood. Probably won’t ever get made into a movie. Why, I bet there’s more money paid out every year for screenplays for movies that never get made than the whole annual budget for NASA.”
“Really?”
“At least. Anyway, I’m working on a character towards the end of the story and I need some ideas. I was hoping if I asked you some questions I might get some inspiration so I can get this baby wrapped and in the can.”
“Sure thing. Be happy to help. Like I started to say – ”
“Here’s the deal. I just want to ask you about yourself, and maybe some things about possum ranching.�
�
Doc looked up from scribbling in his pocket notebook. He put it down and picked up a bigger notebook from the desk.
“Okay, I know you’re a straight-shooting, hard-working, responsible man who’s been known to favor strong drink on occasion. You got a good attitude that always manages to get you through the things life throws at you, though sometimes there’s stuff going on close by you seem totally unaware of.”
“There is?”
“And I know you bought that old worn out ranch from the government a few years ago, and with a lot of hard work, luck, and more hard work, you got your possum stock built up enough to take advantage of the Blackened Possum craze that was sweeping the country awhile back. Then, after the bottom dropped out of the possum market, you started raising alligators as well as possums for the European market to keep the ranch afloat.”
“Well, yeah.”
“And it’s no secret that possum ranchers and cattle ranchers don’t get along except for brief periods during natural disasters or inter-ranch marriages.”
Doc continued to make notes as he talked. “And, of course, the few single women in town tend to go for the cattlemen since they’ve got the money and social status.”
Before his guest could say anything Doc held up a hand and scribbled furiously.
“Those women who don’t hook up with a cattleman around here usually marry one of the big-time farmers. What was it you call farmers?”
“Tractor worshipers?”
“That’s it.” Doc finished his writing with a flourish and slammed the notebook closed. “That should do it!” He stood and shook Taco Bob’s hand. “Thanks so much for the help.”
“Hey, no problem.”
Taco Bob started to say something else, but Doc was already typing up a storm on his computer and oblivious to all else.
“Thanks again for the puzzle book, Doc.” The man at the desk gave a slight wave as Taco Bob headed out the door.
∨ Possum Surprise ∧
5
Plans
“You been to Pedro’s?”
Taco Bob eased back in his favorite reclining chair and looked at his inquiring foreman, then at the rest of the roomful of rough characters that made up his ranch crew. He’d called a meeting in the ranch house.
“Actually, I been over to Doc’s, helping him with a screenplay.” A smattering of approving grunts and murmurs emerged from the motley wranglers. “He’s heading out to California for a few days, meeting with some movie folks.” Several awed whistles. “Which is why I called this meeting.”
“Mmnm mhn mm?”
“Exactly. You know how we’ve been talking about doing something nice for the man since he’s forever helping out others? Well, with him gone for a few days this might be the time to come up with something to let Doc know how much we appreciate him being such a all-around good fella.”
One-Eyed Pete spoke up again.
“Man’s smart too. Smart as a tree full of owls.”
Hazel couldn’t let the opportunity pass. “I reckon he is! Hey, remember the time I took sick real bad and Doc was the one figured out I had a bad case of mange?”
“I thought it was worms?”
“Turned out, it was both.”
Hazel scratched his head and the men sitting on each side of him moved their chairs a little further away. Taco Bob resumed.
“Anyway, seeing that damn sign in Doc’s yard made me realize how much we’d miss Doc if the man ever did move away. We need to put our thinking caps on here and come up with something nice we could do for Doc.” Everyone in the room nodded their whole-hearted agreement. “I mean, something other than helping him with screenplays and such.”
Horse – a man big on size and strength, but a little slow on the uptake since a childhood mining accident – had an idea.
“We could get him a pet.” The big man held up his own pet possum. Hazel, who had a pet chicken, seconded the notion.
“Hell yes! Man living there in that big house all alone could use some company!”
This line of reasoning was well received but quickly forgotten when One-Eyed Pete spoke up. “In that case, maybe we could fix him up with a woman.”
This got everyone’s attention. One of the new men, Smith, cleared his throat.
“Pete’s the man can do it, too. He’s knows pert-near all the women in Possum Row and even a few in Armadillo. Ain’t that right, Pete?”
The handsome yet modest foreman dismissed the compliment with a wave of his hand. Taco Bob took it.
“That ain’t a bad idea, but I reckon he’s good in that department. I think he’s got his eye on that realtor woman, and there’s a good path worn down in the weeds between his place and Hummer’s.”
This caused a few moments of hard thinking, then Hazel jumped up, his eyes wild.
“I got her! We could get Doc a big sack a frogs!”
“Frogs? Why would Doc want frogs?”
Hazel’s enthusiasm quickly fizzled.
“I don’t rightly know. It just come to me, all of a sudden.”
The wiry little man sat back down in the room full of slowly shaking heads. Jones, the other new man, had an idea.
“We could get him a new car!”
Taco Bob rolled his eyes.
“Doc’s got a nice car, and we ain’t none of us got the kind of money for buying a new car anyway.”
“Well, I didn’t exactly have in mind buying no car.” Jones held up a small satchel of burglary tools. Horse thought this hilarious and gave the man a good-natured slap on the back, which knocked him out of his chair and got everyone laughing and snorting. Taco Bob held up a hand to get everyone’s attention.
“What I was thinking is, since Doc’s pretty much got everything he needs already, we could throw him a party.” An outbreak of smiles spread like wildfire through the room. “And not just any party, no sir. We need to come up with the Bull Moose of all parties – a party that folks around here will remember for years to come – the kind folks will sing songs about, and write about in books.” You could feel the excitement in the room. As usual, Hazel was the most excited.
“Can we have music, boss?”
“I don’t see why not. I think Pedro’s nephew just got paroled. We might could get his Kiss tribute-band to play.”
Smith was squirming around in his seat and had his hand up like he was in school. This was odd since he was one of the many locals who’d pretty much avoided school as a youth and gone straight to work or prison.
“Can we have food and drinks and girls?”
“We can have all that. Maybe even games and contests. We work this thing out we can make her the biggest blowout Possum Row has ever seen.”
Everyone was really excited now. Horse stood up looking truly perplexed, his head close to the ceiling.
“But Taco Bob, ain’t all that going to cost a lot of money?”
You could have heard a pin drop. All eyes went to Taco Bob.
“I reckon it’ll cost a pretty penny all right. We need to put our heads together here and figure out a way to make a pile of money in the next few days.”
∨ Possum Surprise ∧
6
Full Night
It wasn’t just the townsfolk and ranchers of Possum Row who benefited from Doc’s kind and generous nature, the man was known to have a soft spot for the wild critters of the area as well. Many’s the orphaned squirrel, possum, or bird that received care at Western Musings. And hanging around the backdoor of Doc’s at night could often get you some tasty table scraps if you were a raccoon or skunk.
It was rare for anything to bother with Doc’s trashcan, which is one reason he was surprised to find the top knocked off the can one night. He crept up quiet and slow, then shown his flashlight. Inside was a young girl gnawing on a pizza crust.
“What are you doing in there?”
Doc jumped back as the girl exploded out of the can and ran off into the night.
♦
The ne
xt day Doc made some discreet inquiries around town, but he didn’t learn much. A few other people had seen the fleeting image of a young girl, one person thought she might be Indian, or at least part. Doc started setting food out back where the critters couldn’t reach, but a small person could.
One morning the food in the special place was gone. Trial and error over several weeks showed she favored corn tortillas and would cautiously come for them, sometimes even when he was close. But only at night.
Once when he spoke softly to her she responded in a chopped language he’d never heard before. Even in the dark he could see she was thin. Ten, maybe eleven, tough but small for her age, always barefoot and wearing rags of leather and cloth. He caught a glimpse of her eyes only once in the moonlight. The eyes made Doc sad because he knew then that there was nothing he could do. The girl’s eyes were large, bright, and very crazy.
∨ Possum Surprise ∧
7
Ideas
The men took a break in their strategy-planning session for Doc’s big party long enough to mount a full-scale attack on one of Hop’s outstanding dinners. Afterwards they retired back to the living room with toothpicks and loosened trouser belts.
“Mmnhnm hn mnm!”
“You got that right, I’m about to bust. Maybe we can get Hop to throw together a little food for Doc’s party.” And with that suggestion by Taco Bob, everyone was again excited about the party – except Hazel, who started holding his head with both hands like he was trying to keep it from exploding. The little man was moaning, and that got everyone in the room looking his way.
The new guys didn’t know what was wrong and looked worried, but everyone else knew what was going on: Hazel had an idea coming. Taco Bob patted him on the back.
“Hazel, you got something you want to share?”
The little man held up a hand for quiet. The moaning stopped and Hazel jumped to his feet.
Possum Surprise Page 2
