by Peter Ponzo
Chapter 50
When Ah gits to the Fuzz’s office, Holstein is still doin' her nails. She smiles 'n points at Fuzz's door 'n I barge right in. The Chief is on the phone 'n waves me to a chair.
"Okay, okay," Fuzz says. "I unnerstand, right away, as soon as I get the funds. Give me the budget and I'll see that it's done. Raise taxes and direct the funds to the Police Department. The good citizens of Toronto won't complain, right? They ask for more police protection so they'll be willing to pay the price, right?"
He stops for a bit, then hangs up without sayin' nothin' more.
"Boone," he says. "I ain't heard much from you. What's the scoop on gorillas in Brazil?"
Fuzz turns his chair and stairs out the winda. He's listenin' but ain't lookin'.
"Hans von Ohshit showed up at Ms. Fleetsmith's house—"
"Ohshit?" Fuzz swings about. "Who the fuck is Ohshit?"
"Sorry, Chief. Ah mean Hans von Oerschott, head of Oerschott Medicals. He's a ape, ya know, and visited the Fleetsmith resident, had hisself a sexual encounter then left afore Ah could—"
"Sexual encounter?" Fuzz had both hands on the desk, leanin' forward, starin' hard.
"Miss Josephine Cowley, his former secretary, she's also a ape. They met in the Fleetsmith basement and done their thing."
Fuzz grinned ear to ear. "Well think of that," he said, very slowly. "This is gonna be an interesting report." He punched the intercom. "Halstead! Hold my calls. I don't wanna be disturbed." Then he turned to me and grinned, happy as a duck fartin' under water, and swung his finger in the air. He means fer me to go on, so I did, tellin' him all thet happened in the last week or two.
Ah ended with, "Ah jest wish thet Josey kin trap the ape—"
"Wish?" Fuzz said. "You can wish in one hand and shit in the other and see which one fills up first."
Ah don't know what he's talkin' 'bout. He turns ag'in to look out the winda. It's time to head out. Mah report is finished. As Ah leave, Holstein is still doin' her nails. Ah stop 'n stare at the instrument. It's a foot long with corners 'n rough edges 'n smooth sides 'n hooks 'n all and she's rubbin' it 'crosst her nails. She sees me lookin', holds up the tool and says, "Handy gadget, eh, Boone?"
"Yes'm. Handy as hip pockets on a hog," Ah says. Then Ah leaves.
Ah drives mah pickup back to Fran's, 'longside the lake. A beauty, this lake, 'n they fixed it up good with trees 'n grass 'n a rock breakwall a ways out. The sun sun was shinin' good 'n the sky was blue, but t'was mighty cold. People say it's hot in Texas, but we ain't got but two mebbe three days o' real heat in Texas. Real heat is when they's a 75% chance o' self-combustion. They say we got killer bees, fire ants, big roaches 'n skeeters, tornadoes 'n hurricanes in the Lone Star state. T'ain't the truth. They's jest a few bitty bugs and bad hair days. They say everythin's twice as big in Texas. Actual fact, it's 1.85, but we round up. 'Nother fact: this here Ontari-o is bigger, but most sits under a mess o' ice, but Ah is gittin' to like it … some.
Ah hits the radio button and gits me some clasical-type music. Ah hits it ag'in and gits more o' the same. Up here, they don't know down home Country tunes. Ah shoulda brought me some. But Ah brought this here pickup. Ah pats the dash. Good truck. Needs an ole change 'n lube. Here, they recycle ole. Down home, recycling ole means moving it from the car to the truck. Ah guess Ah miss down home … some.
When Ah drives to Fran's Ah look at all the homes along the lake. Big, lots o' trees, settin' pretty. Y'all kin hardly see Fran's house, it's far back from the road, past stone gate posts, up a long driveway. Ah hits the brakes 'n slides outta the truck. When Ah gits to the door, it opens.
"Good day, Mr. Boone," Charlie says. "Please come in. I suspect Miss Fleetsmith will be pleased that you are here."
When Ah gits to the kitchen, Fran is snackin'. Seems she's always snackin'. One day she'll be bigger'n a barn.
"Hi, cowboy," she says. "Sit. There's something I want to tell you."
"Tell me?" Ah says. "Ya kin always tell a Texan, but y'all can't tell him much."
The li'l lady smiles. Nice teeth. Looks like she's chewin' on pancakes 'n this maple syrup stuff. Ah look at mah watch. It's 'bout 6:30 pm. Pancakes?
"First, Professor Unger has the … uh, affliction …but I suspect you already know that. However, Charles and I think that we should head down to Atlanta to have a long talk with Dr. Douglas Henderson at the CDC, about genetic alteration. They're working on the problem and may have new information."
"We? Y'all 'n Charlie, Miss Fleetsmith?" Ah say.
"No, we, you and me," she says. "Are you game?"
"Gotta check with Fuzz, but Ah reckon Ah'm game."
"Good!" she says. "Charles has the tickets. We leave first thing in the morning."
"First thing?" Ah ask.
"The plane leaves Pearson International at 7:35 am. It'll take a half hour to get to the airport. Charles will drive us. We'll have a bit of breakfast at 6:00 and leave the house about 6:30, okay?"
Yes, ma'am," Ah says.
"None of this ma'am shit, remember? Fran's my name."
The next mornin' we're flyin' to Atlanta.
Chapter 51
Thet trip to 'Lanta was a waste o' time. Henderson ain't there. Miss Fleetsmith kept sayin' shit all day. We ate at a hamburger joint, with greasy 'n limp fries. It was hot, to fry an egg. When we headed back that night, we was exhausted … from nothin'.
"So, Miss Fleetsmith," Ah said when we was back in Burlington, "how come ya'll didn't make contact with this Henderson fella. He oughta know we was comin'. How come …?"
"Cut the how come crap," she said, leanin' over her coffee. We was sittin' in the kitchen. Charlie had made us coffee 'n toasted something, then headed off to bed. "He should have been at work," she said. "He should have been working on the Dermafix problem. He should have … ah, shit! Another wasted day."
Ah turned the toasted something 'round and bit off a piece. "Cinnamon," Ah said. She was lookin' out the winda, but it was darker'n a fox hole, though the moon was shinin'. Fran started in hummin'.
"If we can contact Oerschott," she said, slow, "… maybe we could get him to the lab … to undergo treatment. Maybe he'd agree to become involved … in finding a cure." She turned to look at me. "It's to his advantage." She jest stared, then started in hummin' ag'in.
TO BE CONTINUED …
