Welcome to Fat Chance, Texas

by Celia Bonaduce

  Everyone stared down at Dymphna’s phone as she powered up.

  Rodney was standing near her. He looked at her screen. “You’ve got the same carrier as we do.”

  Dymphna looked down at the phone. “One bar. That’s pretty weak.”

  “Start walking down the middle of the street,” Rodney said. “You have to find the sweet spot.”

  Dymphna started walking, the group following behind her, quietly in single file.

  “Three bars!” she said.

  “Make a call!” Polly shouted. “Make a call!”

  Dymphna hesitated. These past few days in Fat Chance were unlike anything she’d ever experienced. She felt braver, stronger, and more powerful than she ever had in her life. She faced challenges she would have walked away from at home. She had even kissed a man she barely knew, in her own kitchen! Would this phone, with its offer of a hand back to civilization, change everything before this crazy experiment even started?

  But one glance at the hopeful faces lined up on Main Street and her resolve evaporated. Fat Chance would have to face the twenty-first century. She punched at the keypad.

  “Hi, Erinn?”

  Dymphna had to plug her left ear and press her right ear into the phone as a roar went up. Polly and Wally Wasabi jumped up and down with the realization they were once again connected to the world. They high-fived Rodney and Rock. The euphoria was clearly divided along generational lines as Old Bertha, Powderkeg, Titan, Professor Johnson, and Pappy were not acting as if a life preserver had just been thrown their way. Except for Cleo, who, while more restrained than the younger members of town, was obviously just dying to make a phone call.

  “Dymphna!” came Erinn’s voice from the other end of the line. “We were getting worried!”

  “I know,” Dymphna said, not sure how she could explain that no one figured out there was cell phone reception in town. That admission would not inspire confidence.

  “How are things going?” Erinn asked.

  “It’s amazing,” Dymphna said, surprised at her knee-jerk evaluation. “I have goats!”

  The silence at the other end was so absolute that Dymphna thought she might have lost the signal. “Hello?”

  “Yes, I’m here,” Erinn said. “I think we might have a bad connection. I thought you said ‘I have goats.’”

  “I did! I mean, I do!” Dymphna said. “And chickens, too.”

  “Are you a farmer?”

  Dymphna didn’t like the alarm in Erinn’s voice. She hadn’t called to worry anybody. She changed the subject. “How are the rabbits?” she asked, a pang of homesickness sweeping over her. “Do they miss me?”

  “I don’t actually know the signs of melancholia in rabbits, but I’m sure they are exhibiting them, if one knew what one was looking for. I could ask Mother.”

  “No, that’s all right,” Dymphna said. She had forgotten how difficult it could be to talk to Erinn on the phone. “I just wanted to check in. Everything all right with you? The family?”

  “We’re all fine. Suzanna was just saying the other day that if the baby is just a little late coming, you might be back for the birth!”

  Dymphna smiled into the phone. “You tell that baby to hold on. I’ll bring home a—”

  She was about to say “I’ll bring home a goat”—but she couldn’t bring a goat to a backyard in Santa Monica. She was already testing Erinn’s goodwill with her rabbit cages.

  “I’ll bring home a cactus,” she said instead. “Oh, would you ask Suzanna if I can have some recipes for jam?”

  “Jam?”

  “Yes. I’ve got a crazy amount of berries out here.”

  Neither Dymphna nor Erinn were masters of easy conversation, and their chat came to a halting conclusion.

  “We’ll take care of the rabbits, so don’t worry,” Erinn said. “We can’t wait till you come home.”

  Home.

  Erinn had said she couldn’t wait for Dymphna to come home. But what she meant was Erinn’s home. She looked up the hill at her farmhouse, where she could just make out the outlines of the little goats. She had been a wanderer most of her life—was this home?

  Polly pounced on the phone as soon as Dymphna had rung off. “Can I borrow the phone for just a sec?”

  Dymphna handed it over.

  Polly’s face, full of anticipation, fell as she looked at the screen. “That’s weird,” she said. “There’s no new Mimi Millicent story.”

  CHAPTER 28

  Dymphna, Powderkeg, Professor Johnson, and Wally all had cell phone reception. Professor Johnson called Thud’s vet to ask if Thud’s new diet of “people food” would have any ill effects. Polly, borrowing Dymphna’s phone, wore her Goth makeup and a top hat with a white feather, but her sour façade crumbled as she happily sat in the middle of Main Street using FaceTime and chatting with her friends in New York about the disappearance of Mimi Millicent from cyberspace. Cleo borrowed her nephew’s phone as soon as it had enough battery power for her to take her turn standing in the middle of Main Street. She called Wesley Tensaw to make sure her affairs were in order and to ask if the Beverly Hills Flower Show would be able to schedule the annual show without her.

  It appeared that Beverly Hills was managing to carry on without her.

  Titan asked Wally if he could call his friend Maurice once Wally had checked in with his family.

  “I’m not calling my family,” Wally said, handing over his phone. “I’ll show up in six months and that’ll be soon enough for all of us.”

  Old Bertha sniffed that there wasn’t anybody she was dying to talk to either, and by midday the drama of the cell phone reception was old news. Cleo was glowing as she realized that ordering from the Internet was now a possibility.

  “Don’t forget you’ve only got limited resources,” Pappy said. “Don’t go buying any wicker monkeys.”

  Why would I buy a wicker monkey? thought Cleo.

  Rodney and Rock were sticking around, much to everyone’s surprise. The group had reconvened at Cleo’s and the twins plunked themselves down as if they were part of the Fat Chance experiment.

  “All our problems are solved. We’ve got Internet!” Polly said, her white feather bobbing.

  Pappy said, “I don’t want to throw cold water on that—”

  “Then don’t,” Wally interrupted.

  “We’ve still got to get supplies in town,” Pappy said. “That means a trip to Spoonerville. Internet or no Internet.”

  “You said it’s four miles,” Old Bertha said. “I can’t walk four miles.”

  “You could make a list,” Dymphna said. “And we could shop for you.”

  “I don’t know what they have,” Old Bertha protested.

  “I’m guessing it’s pretty basic stuff,” Powderkeg said.

  Pappy nodded. “You got that right.”

  “I really need some pink peppercorns,” Cleo said. “What do you think my chances are?”

  “Zero to none,” Titan said.

  “Better go back to the Internet for that one,” Polly said. “I volunteer to do all Internet shopping.”

  “We still have to get the supplies from town back here,” Dymphna said.

  Realizing she’d had this very conversation with Professor Johnson last night, right before their smoldering kiss, made her blush.

  “We can help with that,” Rodney said. “I could take Old Bertha on the back of my ATV. And my brother could haul some of the supplies on his.”

  Everyone looked shocked at the offer. Rock scowled but didn’t contradict his brother.

  “Why are you being so helpful?” Pappy asked.

  “You guys are all outcasts.” Rodney shrugged. “So are we. We might as well stick together.”

  “I’m not an outcast,” Cleo said.

  “Misfit?” Titan offered.

  “Don’t help,” Dymphna whispered to Titan, patting his arm.

  “Since you quit the bowling team, I thought maybe you were persona au gratin,” Pappy said.


  “Persona non grata,” Professor Johnson corrected sternly.

  “I know.” Pappy beamed. “I was just making a cheesy joke.”

  “Good one, Pappy!” Rodney said, bursting out laughing.

  “My brother is a total nerd,” Rock said to Polly.

  “Anyway,” Pappy said. “Joking aside, how welcome will you guys be in Spoonerville?”

  “As welcome as y’all are going to be,” Rock said. “Everybody’s heard about a bunch of strangers moving into Fat Chance and they’re dying to get a look at you.”

  “Well then,” Powderkeg said, “let’s give them a good look.”

  After much discussion of logistics, the group arrived at the arching gates of the Rolling Fork Ranch.

  “OK,” Pappy said. “Spoonerville is just down the main road. Everybody just remain calm and stick together.”

  “Why is this such a big production?” Wally asked. “I don’t understand.”

  “That’s right,” Pappy said. “You don’t understand. I figure everybody on the ranch probably already knows we’re here, so there’s no need to try to sneak into town.”

  We were going to try to sneak into town? Dymphna wondered.

  “I don’t like the sound of this,” Powderkeg said. “What aren’t you telling us?”

  “Nothing,” Pappy said. “Sometimes the folks at the ranch are just a little . . . standoffish around new folks.”

  “You can say that again,” Rock said, but was silenced by a look from Pappy.

  “This doesn’t sound like it’s going to be your basic uneventful trip to Market Basket,” Titan said. “Right, Cleo?”

  “I have no idea.” Cleo pointed at Powderkeg. “I haven’t been grocery shopping since I was married to this one.”

  “Well, there’s a first time for everything.” Old Bertha sniffed, patting her hair.

  Pappy ordered Rodney and Rock to leave the ATVs at the gate. No sense half of them roaring up and the others straggling behind. He said that they should arrive together, in a show of solidarity, but Dymphna suspected that he thought they should stay together in case any of them needed backup. Nervously, the little band started down the road. The land appeared flat in all directions, but after a sharp turn in the road, there stood Spoonerville. Dymphna wasn’t sure what she had expected, but Spoonerville looked little better than Fat Chance to the naked eye. The buildings might have been a little straighter and the main road was paved, but for the most part, Spoonerville looked fairly down-at-the-heels. Dymphna actually thought Fat Chance had more charm.

  But Spoonerville has more food.

  Pappy led the way to a store at the very end of the street. The store sat above the road, up a steep set of stairs. At the top of the stairs was a long, wide porch, on which sat several sun-baked men. One of them glanced down at the Fat Chancers as Pappy tied Jerry Lee to a hitching post.

  “Is that you, Pappy?” the man called down.

  “Yep,” Pappy said without looking up.

  “We heard you were babysitting a bunch of city folks,” the man said, leaning against the rail, his arms folded casually across his chest. “But I didn’t know you also took up with Hot and Cold Running Water.”

  Dymphna knew the man was talking about the twins. She could feel all the men in her group tense. A few hours ago, the twins were the unknown terror on Main Street, but there was no doubt, they were all in this together now.

  “Yep,” Pappy said. “Recruited them this morning.”

  “What do you mean, recruited them?” another man shouted down.

  “Starting a bowling league,” Pappy said.

  Dymphna caught Powderkeg’s eye. He winked at her. Powderkeg was clearly enjoying this banter, as menacing as this conversation sounded. Pappy nodded toward the steps, and the little group ascended. With an unspoken understanding, each man walked alongside one of the women—Pappy with Old Bertha, Professor Johnson and Thud with Dymphna, Powderkeg with Cleo. Polly was in the lead with an entire entourage; Wally and the twins all seemed hell-bent on protecting her should war break out. Titan walked alone but was watchful of everyone’s every move.

  “Don’t worry,” Rodney whispered to Polly, although loud enough for Dymphna to hear. “They look meaner than they are.”

  “But they are just as stupid as they look,” Rock said.

  Old Bertha was walking behind Rock and gave him a smack on the back of his head. “Don’t start any trouble,” she said.

  “Just be polite,” Titan whispered.

  The Fat Chancers went quietly into the store. Nobody stopped them. Dymphna worried that someone from the porch was going to make Thud stay outside, but the dog followed the professor into the store without incident. The men from the porch crept in behind them, feigning nonchalance. Cleo stared one of the men down as she stood in front of the vegetables. He moved away and a few of his friends poked each other in the ribs, trying not to laugh. The cowboy Cleo had dispatched glowered at her and at his friends. The little lady had clearly won a round.

  While Wally looked over the post office boxes, the store owner, whose name was Dodge Durham, walked over from behind the counter. His belly strained at the buttons on his plaid shirt.

  “You looking to open a post office box?” Dodge asked.

  “I am,” Wally said. “How often would I get mail?”

  “How often do you want to walk over from your ghost town?” Dodge asked.

  “I’ll walk over when I feel like it. How often does the mail go out?”

  “It goes out when I feel like it.”

  Everyone in the store tensed.

  Wally shrugged. “That’s fair. It’s a deal.”

  After Wally filled out his paperwork, he was issued a number to a little slot on the back wall, which would become his post office “box”—there was nothing as elegant or modern as a key. One by one, the people of Fat Chance finished their shopping and checked out, relieved that Cutthroat’s debit cards worked. Professor Johnson, who’d been talked into strapping Jerry Lee’s extra saddle bags on Thud, made an attempt to load the pouches with his groceries, but the dog was not cooperating. Rather than force a battle of wits with a dog whose breed was known for its stubborn streak, Professor Johnson decided to carry the supplies himself—at least until they got out of sight, where he could negotiate with Thud in private.

  Old Bertha was the last at the counter. Dodge looked distracted. He was keeping an eye on the twins, Wally, and Polly, who, having already checked out, were all trying on sunglasses from an ancient rack, complete with oblong mirror set about a foot too high.

  “Sack all this up,” Old Bertha said.

  The man started loading Old Bertha’s supplies into a paper bag.

  “Is that your girl?” Dodge asked.

  “Pardon me?” Old Bertha looked confused.

  “That your granddaughter?” Dodge asked, nodding toward Polly.

  “Maybe,” Old Bertha answered. “Why do you ask?”

  Everyone in the store was listening to the conversation while pretending not to.

  The man leaned in to Old Bertha. “She’d be pretty without that zombie makeup,” he said. “You should set her straight.”

  Dymphna could see Polly cringe.

  “Oh, I forgot,” Old Bertha said. “I need charcoal.”

  Dymphna and Professor Johnson were standing together and looked at each other. Did Old Bertha not hear him? Was she going to ignore the comment?

  “Large or small bag?” Dodge asked.

  “Oh, small will do just fine.”

  The man put a bag of charcoal on the counter.

  Old Bertha paid for the new addition to her shopping list. “Thank you,” she said, digging in her purse. She pulled out a set of keys. “This should work.”

  She plunged her keys into the center of the bag. A black cloud of charcoal dust erupted over the counter. She picked up a briquette and walked over to the sunglasses tree. Wally, Polly, and the twins parted to let her look at herself in the mirror. She outline
d one eye in a lavish imitation of Polly’s style and turned back to Dodge.

  “She’s not my granddaughter, but she is my girl,” Old Bertha said, turning back to the mirror and finishing her other eye. “And I think she looks perfect.”

  Without a word, she handed the briquette to Wally, who silently drew black smudge lines around his own almond eyes until he looked like a raccoon. One by one, the people of Fat Chance outlined their eyes in charcoal. Dymphna made a mess of her own eyes, but she noticed that Cleo and Titan had actually done a pretty good job with theirs. The twins added lines down their cheeks.

  The people of Fat Chance, Texas, left the store en masse.

  “What do you want to do with the charcoal?” Dodge called after them, picking up the opened bag.

  “You can shove it,” Old Bertha called back.

  As the little troupe made their way back down the street, they were silent, but it was no longer the silence of strangers.

  Polly pressed her fingers to her lower eyelids to keep her tears from ruining her makeup.

  CHAPTER 29

  The group was giddy with their showy display of solidarity, although Dymphna fretted that they certainly hadn’t come in peace—or at least left in peace—to the only source of supplies anywhere near them.

  As they walked down the main road to the Rolling Fork main entrance, several of the Fat Chancers kept turning back to make sure they weren’t being followed.

  “Oh, don’t worry about that,” Rock said. “They’re holding a grudge against Rodney and me—and they’ve never liked Pappy. But they’re happy to have your money.”

  “It’s not just that,” Pappy said. “Ranches in Texas have a long tradition of helping each other out. They know that they might be the only help for miles around.”

  “That’s so sweet!” Dymphna said.

  “Yeah,” Pappy said. “Or, they’re just happy to have our money.”

  At the gate, the twins retrieved their ATVs. As Rodney was helping Old Bertha into her seat, Polly suddenly grabbed the old woman and hugged her. Without a word, Polly hopped on the back of Rock’s ATV with two sacks of supplies and they sped off. Rodney grinned at Old Bertha, who smacked at his shoulder ineffectually.