by Vicky Jones
“Yeah, she loves you like her own. Maybe we should invite her to stay sometime? Would you like that, honey?”
“Of course, I’d love to see her again. But I doubt she’d be able to drive this far, not with her eyesight the way it’s been going lately. And it’s not as if we can go back there in in plain sight in a hurry, not after how I left,” Shona added.
“You really think they’ll still remember?”
Shona stared down at the table. “Folks always remember the bad stuff.”
“Well, I think you should invite her. Maybe she’ll get the bus or something?”
“Maybe,” Shona said. “You know what, I keep thinking how I always seem to end up in the wrong place. I got run out of Louisiana for who I was, or who people thought I was; then I got run out of Mississippi, through no fault of my own, then I end up in Alabama, a place that damn near almost killed me. Now here, I got Bertie already sniffing around, not happy with me muscling in on her territory.” She paused and let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know, maybe we shoulda gone to a bigger city? We might have blended in a bit better.” Shona began to pick at the skin on her index finger.
Chloe walked around the back of Shona and wrapped her arms around her. Nuzzling her mouth into her neck, she kissed her. “We just need to try harder to get to know folks around here. That takes time. Honey, I can’t imagine one decent person not liking you when they get to know the real you.” She spun Shona around on her stool to face her then cupped her face in her hands. “You, Shona, are the kindest, most beautiful person I know.” She stroked away the strand of blonde hair that had fallen across Shona’s face, then kissed her on the nose. “And not all bad things came out of your visit to Alabama.”
“You not at work today again?” Marion asked her husband who was still in his underpants eating a bowl of cereal while watching morning TV.
“Suspended for two days, remember. Let him see how the department manages without their finest deputy,” Lawrence replied through a mouthful of Sugar Smacks.
“Yeah, well, at least you like your job. I hate working for somebody else,” she grumbled as she tied the straps of her white nursing shoes. She stood up and began straightening the collar of her crisp white nurse’s uniform in the mirror. “If I’d have got that garage I would have been working for myself and running my own business. But then those two lousy interlopers come into town flashing their dough around like it’s nuggets to them, buying up whatever they feel like it. I mean, where are their husbands, huh? You can’t always go around the place doing what you feel like. Women have responsibilities.” She stared at the back of her husband’s head, him not even bothering to turn around to listen to her ranting on. “Jake, I think something’s not right over at that garage. I mean, they just came in and undercut everyone. That ain’t fair now, is it? Something’s going on. Can you find out? Get it closed down, unpaid taxes or something? Anything you can pin on them. Can you do that? For me, honey?” Marion waited for a response from her husband but all she received was a grunt. “I’ll see you after work.” She turned and left Lawrence to gaze at the TV, lumps of cereal drying on his sweat-stained undershirt.
“Well, good mornin’ there. You must be the new girl around town everybody’s talkin’ about.” The young light-brown haired girl behind the bakery counter smiled at Shona, her eyes wide.
“Yeah. I guess. Say, could I have a slice of that pie over there and a coupla bakehouse rolls, please?” Shona dug her hands in her pockets and pulled out a dollar bill.
“Oh yeah, sure thing. My name’s Alice, by the way. My family run this place.” She turned to the shelves behind her, picked up a small cardboard box and placed Shona’s overly generous sized slice of pie inside it, then bagged up her rolls. She looked back at Shona with earnest eyes.
“Thanks. How much?” Shona asked with a hint of impatience.
Alice’s eyes glazed over. “What? Oh, um…well, don’t you worry about payin’ today. Call it a ‘new member of the Sunnybrook community’ discount.” She blushed and swept away a lock of hair from her cheek. “But come in again soon, OK?”
“You sure?” Shona asked. After a vigorous nod from Alice, Shona accepted the food and said her goodbyes.
“Yep, she’s definitely gonna cause some waves around here,” Alice whispered to herself, feeling the flush of red in her cheeks.
Shona found herself with not one but two police cars at her garage. One needed to have the brakes tightened up, and the other needed an oil change. Jobs that wouldn’t take too long but she’d spent most of the time sharing a joke with one of the cops as she collected used oil in a bucket under the car.
“I can’t believe your wife puts up with you doing that, Officer Gibson.” Shona laughed at the joke, looking up at the rotund figure of the cop. He laughed back and removed his hat to wipe his brow with his sleeve.
“I know, but she’s used to it by now,” he replied, stroking his thick fingers down over his handlebar moustache. “And anyways, I have to put up with her shoe collection. I swear she spends my pay before I’ve even earned it.” He replaced his hat and leaned down to help Shona to her feet from the creepers she’d been lying on.
“Thanks,” Shona said, reaching up her hand after wiping it on her overalls. “All done. Just gotta top you up, then you’re good to go.”
“Gee, thank you Shona. It’s awful nice of you to do all this for free for us guys. I just wanted you to know that the guys really appreciate what you’re doing over here.”
“No problem,” Shona replied. “I know you get the big stuff done over at the fleet garage, but if I can help in any way then I will. I had a boss once who, well, he woulda done the same so…”
“You’re a welcome addition to this town, young lady,” Dennis replied, before tipping his hat and letting Shona finish up the job.
“I’ll second that,” a new voice piped up behind the two of them. Sheriff Everett walked up to them and tipped his cap to Shona. “Ma’am.”
“Good morning, sir, I don’t believe we’ve met yet. I’m Shona Clark.”
“Yeah, I heard all about you,” Everett began, his blue eyes warm and smiling. “Done quite a few good turns around here for my men. I thought it was high time I come over here m’self and say thank you.” He held out a strong, tanned hand to Shona who shook it firmly.
“No problem, sir,” she replied. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I just gotta finish this job off.” She walked around to the front of the car and unscrewed the oil cap.
Dennis and Everett raised their eyebrows at each other and smiled. “She’s a good one, that girl. So anyway, you figured out what to buy Shirley for your anniversary yet?” Dennis asked. “You can’t go home tonight without anything.”
“I know. Especially after last time.” Everett shook his head and hung his hands on his hips. “We said we wouldn’t spend too much this year, with the house renovations and everything, but I just can’t seem to think of something that’ll make her realize how much I love her.”
“Um…pardon me for overhearing sir but, well, if you want something real personal like, then you can’t go too far wrong with some hand-picked wildflowers. There’s some out back, you’re more than welcome to go see if you like?” Shona piped up from underneath the hood.
Everett’s face softened into a relieved grin. “You know what, that’s an excellent idea. She loves poppies. I’ll go take a look.”
“She’s making quite the impression over there with our friend, the sheriff,” Edie said as she prized open the blinds in the bar and stared over towards the garage.
“I know. I can’t work out if that makes her a threat or an ally to us,” Bertie replied from behind the bar.
“I guess only time will tell,” Edie mused.
Sheriff Everett reappeared from his exploration behind the garage, his hands full of a mixture of wild poppies and clematis. “These are perfect. Thank you, Shona, Shirley’ll love ‘em.”
“I hope so, sir,” Shona replied, smili
ng.
Over her shoulder, Everett caught sight of something that made his brow wrinkle all of a sudden. “Say, you been over there yet?” He flicked his head towards Bertie’s bar. Shona turned around to look.
“Yeah. I’ve met a few of the locals,” she replied with a wry smile.
“What are your thoughts?” Everett asked, his eyes keen.
“Well, they ain’t too happy with me having this place. Bertie said she was after buying it too. But the others seem OK, I guess.”
“I’ve been trying to set up a meeting with the women in there. They seem to think we’re always trying to catch them out or something. I mean,” he leaned into Shona, “we all know what goes on inside those four walls, what kinda place that is, and the last sheriff here would have closed it down, but I don’t see the need for all that.” Everett watched Shona’s reactions carefully. “I wanna talk to them, understand how to make everyone’s life around here a little more peaceful.”
Shona nodded. “Well, I think they probably feel a bit worried. Especially because of your deputy—Lawrence, is it?” Everett nodded. “Well, he’s been throwing his weight about the place, rattling cages, and I guess Bertie and the others just feel a little…” she searched for the right word. “Unwanted.”
“Well, that’s my next aim. To sort him out, believe me,” Everett affirmed. “But thank you Shona, I appreciate your insight on this. And your secret stash back there,” he added, looking down at the flowers he was holding.
“You’re welcome,” Shona said, waving him off.
“Yeah, she’s definitely cooking something up with ol’ Everett. They look mighty pally over there,” Edie noticed, still with her thumb and index finger prized between the slats of the blind.
“Come away from that window. I know that girl’s hot but you’re turning into some kinda Peepin’ Tom,” Bertie chastised. “We need to go through our attack strategy. It’s about time this town had itself a little rumble. Shake up the feelings a bit. We’ve been taking Lawrence’s shit for far too long. Those cops need to know we won’t be pushed around.”
“Look, I told you before I don’t do anything that involves tearing up the place. I read, I plan, I advise. That’s it. I don’t get involved in no violence,” Edie said after removing her finger from the blind and pointing it at Bertie.
“Who said anything about violence? We’ll only retaliate if they start anything,” Bertie replied.
“Yeah, well, you’ll have to go without me.”
“Honey, what are you doing here?” Everett asked, his hands clasping the bunch of flowers he’d hoped to surprise his wife with later.
“You forgot your lunch bag, sweetie,” Shirley Everett replied, standing outside his office. She was in her late forties with dark brown wavy hair loosely tied in a gingham ribbon. Her flowing summer dress hugged her where it needed to, yet was loose enough to look casual. She walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek, then passed him a small brown paper bag containing his sandwiches. “And Eric wanted to talk over a few things for his last assignment.”
Everett’s son flashed his father a bright white smile. He was twenty-one years old and in his senior year of college. When standing side-by-side with his father, they were near identical, both with the same athletic, six-foot physique, kind blue eyes and fine sandy colored hair, receding slightly. “Hey Pop, it’s just a few questions about some legal procedures. Shouldn’t take too long, if you have the time?”
“No problem, son. I got time now if you like?” Everett held out his arm to lead Eric into his office.
Spotting the flowers, Shirley broke into a beaming smile. “Well now, are those for anyone special?” She put her hands on her hips in mock interest.
“Only for the most special woman in this whole town,” Everett replied. He handed his wife the flowers.
“They are beautiful. You, sir, are very thoughtful.” She kissed him again and gazed deep into his eyes. At that moment Everett’s assistant cleared her throat.
“Um…sir? I have someone on the line for you,” she said.
“Take a message, Julie, I’m busy right now,” Everett replied, then gazed back at his wife’s deep brown eyes.
“It’s important. I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid it’s bad news.”
Everett looked over at his assistant. Julie had been with him since he became sheriff five years ago and in all that time he’d never seen her face make the expression it was making at that moment. Following her pointed finger, he walked into his office, with Shirley and Eric closely behind, and picked up the receiver that was lying off the hook on his desk.
“Hello, this is Bill Everett,” he began. Seconds later his face turned gray. Slowly lowering himself down in his seat, he thanked the person on the end of the call and replaced the receiver, his hand lingering on it for a moment.
“Honey? What is it?” Shirley asked.
“Pop?” Eric’s eyes filled with concern.
“There’s… There’s been a car accident. Dad was driving and…they hit a tree.” His voice choked, the words catching in his throat. “Mom’s gone,” he murmured. He placed his hand over his face and rubbed his eyes.
Shirley strode around the back of his desk and threw her arms around him.
“I gotta get back up to Portland. Dad’s in a bad way. Someone’s gotta take care of the business while he’s…” Sheriff Everett looked lost for a moment, before Shirley looked over at Julie.
“I’ll call Headquarters, get some relief down here. Sir, you go home and sort out what you need to. Don’t worry about things here, we’ll be OK,” Julie assured.
Everett allowed himself to be shepherded out to his car by Shirley and Eric, the latter climbing into the driver’s seat. In a second they were gone, just as Deputy Lawrence sauntered through the station doorway. Looking around the room, he tried to make eye contact with each cop standing in a daze around him, each man with his hat now held against his chest. Finally, Lawrence’s eyes rested on Julie, who wiped away a tear.
“So, what did I miss?” he asked.
Deputy Lawrence picked his ‘acting sheriff’ badge up off his new desk and pinned it to his shirt pocket. Straightening his belt, he checked himself in the mirror on the back of Everett’s door and smiled. “This is my town now,” he whispered to himself. He took his baton from the hook by the door, then walked into the already crowded police station breakroom.
“Now y’all listen up. I know some o’ you ain’t exactly on cloud nine that Headquarters refused to send relief and decided to put me in charge around here instead,” Lawrence began, pausing at a small pocket of mumbling and groans from the corner of the room, “but facts are facts. Bill spent the last few years trainin’ me in his ways, and now he’s got some stuff he needs to take care of back home. I know Headquarters has agreed to keep his job open for him, but we have to start acceptin’ that he might not ever come back. So I need to know I have your loyalty and support.”
Lawrence hung his hands on his hips, his watery speech less than convincing, especially to the small crowd of officers standing pouring a second cup of coffee and sniggering. He rose himself up to his full height and set his lips. “You over there. Barnes.”
Officer Barnes looked up from his cup and looked from side to side. “Who, me?” he replied. The three officers next to him stifled their laughs.
“Well, you’re the only one called ‘Barnes’ around here, ain’t ya, boy?” Lawrence replied, his temper fraying.
Barnes clenched his teeth. He raked a lock of greying hair away from his temple and shot Lawrence a look of pure contempt. The giggling crowd fell silent, the air in the room thick.
“You’ve served here the longest, ain’t ya?” Lawrence asked.
“Yeah,” Barnes replied. “Not that that mattered to the chief,” he added under his breath.
“Right, well, I want you to personally keep eyes on that no good bar, Bertie’s. Everett was too chickenshit to investigate that place properly, even though everyone a
round here knows what goes on in there. We just need to prove it. Take three of these guys and go pay them a visit. You have my full permission to use any means necessary to question or even arrest anyone in there if you see anythin’ improper.”
Barnes smiled. “Yes sir,” he replied, nodding at three of the officers standing by who followed closely behind him as he left the breakroom.
“The rest of you, I want you to come straight to me if you see anythin’ out of place around this town, or anyone actin’ suspiciously, especially around Bertie’s bar. There’s been talk of riots around here and I don’t want any folk thinkin’ that while the cat’s away they can make trouble in my town. We gotta keep these streets clean for our families, if you get my meanin’. We don’t want our kids seeing bad influences and things that will pollute their minds.” Lawrence waited for the nods and grunts of understanding from the crowd. “Understood?”
“Yes boss,” came the replies, more focused and forceful than five minutes earlier. Lawrence looked around the dispersing crowd of officers and grinned.
“What the hell…? You can’t do this,” Bertie said as the police officers barged past her and into the bar later that afternoon. Within seconds, tables had been turned over, bottles were smashed and pictures from the wall torn down. Officer Barnes walked up to her and pressed his face into hers.
“We can do whatever the fuck we like, pal,” he replied, looking Bertie up and down with disdain. “What are you gonna do to stop us, huh? Who you gonna complain to?” He grinned, then walked past her and over to the bar, then ran his baton across it, sweeping away the glasses resting on it. As they smashed to the wooden floorboards one by one, he smiled.
“You should consider yourself lucky we don’t torch this place. With you all still inside, you dumbass dyke bitches,” he snarled, then nodded his head towards the other officers. “Let’s go, boys, I think we’ve made Lawrence’s point.” The officers left, banging their batons against anything that was still unbroken.