Livin' Large in Fat Chance, Texas

by Celia Bonaduce

  They ran to the barnyard. Dymphna ran to check on the rabbits while Professor Johnson looked in on the goats. Thud sprinted into the barn, climbed onto a bale of hay, and curled up.

  “The chicken coop is empty!” Dymphna raced into the barn, relieved to see her four Angora goats were all right.

  She almost ran into Professor Johnson’s back. He was staring into a corner of the barn, where the chickens were corralled.

  “How did they get in here?” Dymphna asked.

  “I brought them inside.” Maggie’s voice came out of the shadows. “I was thinking I should move the rabbits, too, but their house looks pretty sturdy.”

  “Actually, if a twister hits, we’re going to have to move them all,” Professor Johnson said.

  “You won’t have time to get them into town,” Maggie said.

  “I was thinking the cellar,” Professor Johnson said.

  “Is there room?” Maggie asked.

  “There has to be,” Professor Johnson said.

  “Wait a minute! Wait a minute!” Dymphna said. “Excuse me, Maggie, but what made you think we needed your help?”

  “Uh, look around you?” Maggie snarled. “A big storm is coming. I’m sorry if I overstepped your precious boundaries.”

  “I think it was very—” Professor Johnson started.

  “Don’t help,” Dymphna snapped. “You have no idea what’s going on here.”

  “Really?” Maggie arched an eyebrow. “Why don’t you tell us then, Dymph. What is going on here?”

  “I don’t know exactly,” Dymphna said. “But I know you didn’t just come up here to help me save my farm.”

  “Oh, I forgot,” Maggie said. “In the whole world, only you love animals.”

  Maggie stormed out of the barn. The door slammed heavily behind her. Thud looked up, but decided the barn was the place to be. He put his head back down.

  “I’m not sure it’s safe for her to head back into town,” Professor Johnson said.

  Dymphna pouted. “Can you believe she said I’m the only person in the world who loves animals?”

  “I don’t understand what you are so upset about. She was a big help.”

  “So now you’re taking her side,” Dymphna said, near tears. “I should have guessed.”

  She pulled the barn door open. She was hit by a blast of wind. She ran to the gate, her hair whipping around her face. She grabbed onto the gatepost, hoping the wind wouldn’t pull her off her feet. When she saw her sister had made it back to town, she turned. Professor Johnson was standing there, looking at her.

  “You’re not so tough,” he said.

  Dymphna wrapped her arms round him and they made their way to the house, Thud at their heels.

  * * *

  Titan opened the back door to the forge and pulled Rocket inside. As he tried to settle the longhorn’s nerves, Erinn and Wesley hurried in through the front.

  “May I help you?” Titan asked.

  “I thought we might set up that interview,” Erinn said, inspecting her camera for rain damage.

  “In this weather?”

  “You’ve been hard to pin down, so I thought now might be as good a time as any,” Erinn said.

  “I thought I might go see if I can find Fancy, one more time,” Titan said. “If she’s hurt, she’ll never survive this.”

  “Why don’t you sit for my interview and then we’ll help you,” Erinn said.

  She turned to look at Wesley. She hoped he understood the interview was just a ploy. She needed to keep this sweet soul from risking his life for a bird that in all probability was not out there waiting to be rescued. Wesley nodded.

  Erinn and Wesley jumped when Rocket lowed. When Erinn turned back she saw Titan already sitting on a stool, looking out at the darkening sky. She and Wesley set up as quickly as they could.

  “I know they call you Titan,” Erinn said. “But could you tell me your name and spell it, please?”

  “My name is Ray . . . well, Raymond Darling,” Titan said. “R-A-Y-M-O-N-D D-A-R-L-I-N-G.”

  “Can you tell me a little about yourself, Titan?”

  “There isn’t much to tell,” Titan said in a voice so soft Erinn had to turn up the audio levels. “I’m the son of Sweet Darling. Did you ever hear of her?”

  Erinn nodded. She didn’t want to say a word.

  “She was a famous singer and dancer. She was the most beautiful person in the world and the best mother,” Titan said. “She died one night after a concert went wrong. I was too little to know about it at the time, but they say she got caught lip-syncing and she ran in front of a car. Some of the press said it was suicide, but I don’t believe that.”

  “Why?” Erinn whispered gently.

  “Because she loved me,” Titan said. “She loved me too much to leave me alone. At the reading of the will, Cutthroat said so. He said my mom would never have left me intentionally. It was almost thirty years later, but I guess he would know.”

  “What happened to you after that?”

  “I grew up.” Titan shrugged.

  “And you never heard from Cutthroat Clarence in all that time?”

  “No,” Titan said. “I didn’t even know who he was. In his video, he told me that he felt responsible for my mother’s death, since he was financing her career. But his lawyer said he couldn’t do anything to help me because that would mean he was admitting cul . . . culp . . .”

  “Culpability,” Wesley said.

  “Yeah,” Titan said. “That. So, I guess Cutthroat blamed himself, but I don’t. Although I do have pretty hard feelings toward that lawyer, that Pennyfeather.”

  “He was only doing his job,” Wesley said.

  Erinn glared at him. Wesley knew better than that, both as an attorney and a production assistant.

  “Sorry if I don’t see it that way,” Titan said. “I’m very grateful that Cutthroat left me this forge. I’ve found a real home for myself here. But I can’t help but wonder what life would have been like if I’d had my mother all those years. And if I couldn’t have my mother, it would have been nice if Pennyfeather had let Cutthroat contact me. I was only six. I didn’t want his damned money. I wanted someone to care.”

  Chapter 29

  Maggie stalked through the jail and into Pappy’s former living quarters. She pulled a small bundle from her waistband, tossing it on the bed. She pulled a faded quilt around her shoulders and tried to still her shivers. She lit the little camping stove. The flame heated the room while Maggie filled a kettle and put it on to boil.

  What is wrong with Dymphna? she wondered. Couldn’t she have just thanked me? It’s not every day an estranged sister herds your animals out of the way of an approaching storm.

  Of course it’s not every day an estranged sister breaks into your farmhouse looking for something, anything, to be used against you. Maggie had found something that she sensed might be of some value because of the way it had been hidden. Someone with less of a history of opportunism might not have noticed the little sliver in the wall that made a secret drawer. It crossed Maggie’s mind that Dymphna herself might not even know about it, but she dismissed that. Even her space-cadet sister must know her own house! Maggie had taken a kitchen knife and wiggled the drawer open. Inside was a small pouch. The cloth was old and tied with a stubborn knot. She stuffed it in the waistband of her jeans and headed out the door. As she looked to make sure the coast was clear, she noticed the wind kicking up. The fact that your sister just burglarized your home should not negate the fact she took pity on your poor farm animals and got them into the barn.

  Maggie made a hot cup of tea. She sat in the rocking chair and thought about how she had found her way to Fat Chance. She remembered telling Polly and Old Bertha how she managed to track Dymphna’s knitwear to the store in Dripping Springs and from there to Fat Chance. She’d intentionally left out the middle part of the story. She couldn’t find Fat Chance but had stumbled onto Spoonerville, where she’d met Dodge.

  “You on your o
wn?” Dodge had said. “Where’s your watchdog?”

  Maggie looked around the store, wondering if this man was talking to her. In seconds, she realized this man knew her sister.

  “I think you have me confused with Dymphna. She’s my sister,” Maggie said. “I’m Mary Magdalene. Call me Maggie.”

  “The evil twin?” Dodge said, shaking her hand.

  “More like the misjudged younger sister,” Maggie said.

  “I’m misjudged myself,” Dodge said. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Dodge told her the story of Fat Chance and how Cutthroat Clarence had sent a group of innocent lambs into the Texas Hill Country to salve his own sorry conscience. He painted a picture of how his family had been swindled out of the town not once but twice, and he was always on the lookout for a way to get Fat Chance back. He bought Maggie a Coke and listened sympathetically as she recounted all Dymphna’s wrongdoings and desertions. After an hour, Dodge suggested they could be partners and set things right.

  “What do you mean by partners?” Maggie asked cautiously.

  “I think you and I understand each other,” Dodge said. “I’m guessing you’re here in the middle of nowhere ’cause you don’t have anywhere else to go. Am I right?”

  Maggie reddened.

  “I thought so,” Dodge continued. “Well, you snoop around Fat Chance for a while, get me some dirt. Anything I can use to get my town back. And I’ll give you enough money to get settled somewhere else.”

  “How much is that?” Maggie asked. “What if I want to settle in Manhattan?”

  “Bring me something worth Manhattan, and we’ll see,” Dodge said seriously.

  Maggie had not forgotten her deal with Dodge, but as hard as she tried, she had failed to come up with anything—until now. Aside from her sister being there, she found herself really liking the people of Fat Chance, and as time passed, she didn’t want to find any dirty laundry. Even so, she kept trying. She had her own sense of honor, no matter how bent. She tried getting to know the men of the town, but that hadn’t really worked out as planned. She tried befriending the women, but they didn’t have any secrets either. She’d pretty much given up. She avoided Spoonerville so she wouldn’t have to explain herself. But Dymphna’s refusal to accept her in town was starting to get to her. So she decided to redouble her efforts. She went up to the farm when she knew Dymphna would be on Main Street. She worried that the humongous dog would be lurking or one of the goats would sense her ill will, but she’d walked right on into the farmhouse without a hitch.

  The sound of hail on the roof brought Maggie back to the present. Even with the camp stove and the quilt, she couldn’t get warm. She noticed the package on the bed. She picked it up and studied it. Whatever it was, it had not been disturbed in a very long time. She delicately pulled at the drawstrings. She stood up and moved under the dim light of the overhead bulb. She pulled something out of the pouch and stared at it. Something about it looked very familiar. Her breath caught when she realized what she was looking at.

  “What was this doing at Dymphna’s?” she wondered. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

  Then she remembered: Pappy used to live on the farm. This belonged to him!

  Jackpot! Dodge will have to finance a trip around the world when I give him this!

  Over the wind, she could hear someone entering the jail. She quickly tied the pouch up and stuck it back in her waistband. She tiptoed to the door and peered into the jail.

  “Pappy!” she said, trying to keep her voice even. “What are you doing here?”

  As she registered the large man in the center of the room coming toward her, the lights went out.

  PART THREE

  Chapter 30

  Dymphna and Professor Johnson moved the rabbits and chickens into the cellar without incident. The rooster and goats were another matter. The young kids scampered around the barn as if playing a game of tag, but the older Angoras knew something was wrong. They refused to deal with either Professor Johnson or Dymphna.

  “Is there room in the cellar for all the goats?” Professor Johnson asked.

  “There has to be! We can’t just leave them!”

  “Animals have an instinct when the weather is going to take a turn,” Professor Johnson said.

  “Really?” Dymphna asked, annoyed that he thought she might not know this. “Is that something you learned at Harvard?”

  “No. My degree is in natural sciences. That would be meteorology,” Professor Johnson said distractedly, chasing Diego, the Angora buck, into a corner. “Fernando told me.”

  Dymphna didn’t have time to continue the conversation. She leaped at Wobble the rooster as he flapped by her. He managed to get himself onto a perch just above her head. She reached up and he pecked at her reaching fingers.

  Thud studied the pandemonium, then blocked the path of the three oldest nanny goats. Professor Johnson managed to get leads on them, but the three nannies and Diego, the buck, wouldn’t move. With a twister bearing down on them, Professor Johnson didn’t have time for a test of wills.

  “Listen, ladies”—Professor Johnson addressed the nanny goats, who huddled together—“I’m at the top of the food chain, and you need to do what I say.”

  “Don’t threaten them! You are not at the top of the food chain,” Dymphna admonished. “You wouldn’t say that if we were in Africa and there were elephants chasing you through the bush.”

  “One, elephants don’t eat meat. Two, we’re not in Africa, and three, you are interfering with my intimidation technique,” Professor Johnson said.

  Dymphna returned her attention to corralling Wobble while Professor Johnson and Thud tried to get the goats to cooperate. Professor Johnson managed to get ahold of Catterlee, and tried to get her into the cellar. He nudged the cellar’s heavy wooden door open just an inch with his foot. The storm took note of Professor Johnson’s imprudence and roared into the cellar. The nanny goats and kids moved quickly, running out into the barnyard and leaping the fence. Catterlee shook off the professor and followed her sisters. Professor Johnson turned and faced Diego, the buck.

  Diego, like all of Dymphna’s Angora goats, had a comical fleecy face. The females had short, stubby horns, but Diego sported an impressive spiral set of horns atop his curls. They were impressive at the best of times, but lethal looking as he stared down Professor Johnson. Thud got in front of Professor Johnson and barked at the goat.

  “It’s okay, Thud,” Dymphna said soothingly. “Diego isn’t going to hurt anyone.”

  “Don’t lie to my dog,” Professor Johnson said quietly, keeping his eyes locked on Diego. “This goat means business.”

  Diego slipped around Thud and followed the nanny goats into the pasture. Thud brayed. Diego turned and looked at the dog standing at the gate, the goat’s mohair blowing majestically in the wind. Diego bowed to his adversary. Dymphna ran to the gate, ready to give chase, but Professor Johnson grabbed her.

  “You’ll never catch them,” Professor Johnson said.

  “I know,” she said, staring after them.

  The nanny goats came to stand with Diego. They stood staring at Dymphna.

  “Come on, sweethearts. Come back,” she said. “It’s not safe out there. Please come back.”

  It was as if they were deciding what to do. The wind kicked up a notch. Diego turned toward the creek and the nannies followed.

  “Let them go,” he said. “They know what they’re doing.”

  “They might die,” Dymphna said, trying not to cry.

  “You’ve said a hundred times that animals know their own minds and people just don’t have enough respect. You need to respect them now. They’ve made their decision.”

  She turned and buried her head on Professor Johnson’s shoulder. He held her close. He suddenly felt a sharp pain on his foot. He pushed Dymphna back and looked down. Wobble was pecking at his foot. When the rooster sensed he’d gotten the professor’s attention, he looked up. Dymphna laughed as she dried her tears.
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  “It looks like Wobble has made up his mind to join us,” she said, gingerly scooping up the rooster. She’d never held him before. He looked even meaner up close.

  “Let’s get him to the cellar,” Professor Johnson said.

  Huddled together, they made their way to the cellar. Professor Johnson kept one hand on Dymphna’s back, the other holding on to his glasses. Dymphna’s hair blew straight back, Wobble’s cockscomb fluttered, and Thuds ears flapped.

  The farmhouse suddenly seemed very far from town. Then the rain started. Then the hail.

  * * *

  “Looks like the storm is getting closer,” Titan said as Erinn and Wesley packed up their gear.

  “This doesn’t look particularly safe,” Wesley said as the wind whistled through the uneven wall boards. “Do you have a place to go? Do you want to come back to the inn with us?”

  “I’m not sure any building here is safer than any other,” Titan said.

  “That’s true,” Erinn added. “But at least you wouldn’t be alone.”

  “I’m not alone,” Titan said, jerking his head toward the longhorn, who still stood in the middle of the forge. “I need to take care of him. He’s very upset.”

  Erinn and Wesley studied the bull, who looked at them with placid eyes.

  “He is?” Wesley asked.

  “He doesn’t show it,” Titan said. “But he is aware of everything that’s going on. He knows a storm is coming. If he decides the building isn’t safe, we’ll leave.”

  “I feel as if we’re deserting you,” Erinn said. “I know you’re an adult and we can’t insist, but please come with us.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Titan said. “I promise, if it gets really bad, we’ll leave.”

  Erinn and Wesley made their way onto Main Street. The intermittent rain and hail had stopped, but the wind was constant.

  “I’m not comfortable leaving him there,” Erinn said to Wesley.

  “He’s a grown man,” Wesley said. “And he’s right. Who’s to say one place is safer than the next? If we get a tornado, it could level the whole town or whistle right through without leaving a mark. Titan’s guess is as good as ours.”