Bubba and the Zigzaggery Zombies
Page 18
After rising out of his chair, Bubba walked over to rescue the errant baby from a patch of sticky goat head. “Hey pumpkin,” he said. He wasn’t sure if the baby was Blanca or Carlotta. She looked up at him and said something like, “Boovadoo.”
Bubba carefully gathered the baby in his good arm and settled her against his right side. She looked up at him with big…hazel eyes. That’s funny. I don’t remember them having hazel eyes. Big brown eyes. Brown like Hershey’s chocolate eyes.
“Best to keep away from them plants,” he said to the child, pointing awkwardly with his left hand. “Afilado,” he said, trying to remember the correct word in Spanish. “Uh, penetrante. Owie.” He pretended to touch a plant and then yanked it back with an exaggerated yelp.
The baby giggled. Bubba carried her back to the blanket and sat down. The other child immediately gave up the Spongebob sippy cup and came to sit in his lap. It didn’t matter; he had a lap big enough for two children. They proceeded to amuse themselves by pulling on his sling and yanking at his belt buckle. He took his keys out and divided them into two sets. The girls jingled and jangled to their little hearts’ content. One cooed like a bird and happily blew spit bubbles.
After a while, Alfonzo looked over and visibly started. Bubba nearly cringed. He didn’t want the man falling off the ladder. He waved because he didn’t really want to wake Pilar up. Poor woman had a long night behind her. Who knows where the Garcias are goin’ tonight?
Miz Demetrice came out of the mansion and brought a box of age appropriate toys for the children. There wasn’t a single butcher knife to be found. She dragged a chair over and sat watching Bubba play with the girls. Little was said and Bubba was okay with that for the time being.
A half hour after that Miz Adelia brought lemonade and treats outside, carrying them on a silver tray. Alfonzo came down from the ladder and drank a glass and ate a sugar cookie. He lay beside his wife and watched the babies while rubbing one of Pilar’s arms.
“I figure the DEA will be watching the other road tonight,” Bubba said. He might as well be remarking that the weather looked good enough to go fishing on the lake. Bubba needed to go fishing. The fish probably missed him. After all, he fed them a lot of worms. Plus they also loved Velveeta Cheese balls.
Miz Demetrice crossed her ankles and soothed down her dress. Miz Adelia paused in giving a cookie to the older baby. Alfonzo’s hand hesitated midstream.
“I kin show you the other road,” Bubba said. “It’ll be a tight squeeze in the van. Branches will scrape some, but it’ll get you over by Sturgis Creek and then you can get down the road. Do you suppose them DEA people put some kind of tracker on your Dodge? I suppose I should look for something on there. Is that legal?”
“Bubba,” his mother said politely, “wherever do you get your ideas?”
“Ma, please,” he said solemnly. “You got Willodean all wrapped up in your shenanigans. It ain’t done to be caught by a couple of folks who are so tight a corn cob couldn’t be—”
“Bubba!” Miz Demetrice interrupted him.
“Just sayin’.”
“Gracias,” Alfonzo said.
They became aware of the sound of a car driving down the lane. Bubba didn’t recognize the engine, so he tensed a little. Then a purple thing inched around the corner and parked itself next to his truck. They all watched entranced. Bubba had never seen one exactly like it before.
“Is that a…Gremlin?” Miz Demetrice asked with a note of awe.
“Yep.” It was a Gremlin. A metallic sparkling purple AMC Gremlin with silver and purple trimmed rims for the wheels. Bubba didn’t know what year it was because he didn’t know much about that particular type of car, and this one had been somewhat modified. It had been lowered a tad in the front and had gold plated curb feelers on the sides. A pair of fuzzy dice hung from the rear view mirror.
Bam Bam Jones climbed from the Gremlin. He was wearing a Knicks shirt combined with shiny gray pants and black leather boots that were only ankle high for a change of pace. “Yo, Bubba,” he said and his hands snapped and gesticulated wildly. “So this be the mansion.”
“Bam Bam,” Bubba said, “this is my mother, who you met yesterday. That’s Miz Adelia, Alfonzo, Pilar, and their two daughters. Cain’t remember which one is which.” Bubba added the last part darkly with a quick glare at his mother, who went just a little pink in her cheeks. Dint know Ma could still blush. Go figure.
“A pleasure,” Bam Bam said suavely. “I just be coming out here to see if Bubba needed anything, but of course, he does not with so many lovely ladies about to tend to his every need.”
Pilar woke up at that moment and Alfonzo said something to her in Spanish. She blinked and rubbed her eyes.
Bam Bam knelt by one of the toddlers and said, “I get a toothache just by looking at you, my petite darling.”
Blanca, Bubba thought it was Blanca, giggled. Even at her young age, she knew when she was being flirted with.
“And you,” he said to Carlotta, “you be so beautiful that I forgot my pick-up line.”
Carlotta grabbed her sippy cup and presented it to Bam Bam, who took it graciously.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Bam Bam said. “I must speak with Bubba about dem ugly matters of late.” He handed the sippy cup to Pilar.
Bubba collected his discarded keys (The keys had lost to Bam Bam’s contagious presence and the blinding motions of his nearly unstoppable hands.) and climbed to his feet. The two girls muttered tiredly but gave in graciously.
“Nap time,” Pilar announced and pulled both girls into her arms with obvious skill that spoke of a long time with small children. Alfonzo returned to painting and Miz Demetrice and Miz Adelia wandered inside the mansion.
“Nice,” Bam Bam said, looking around. “I’d say you be rich, but you ain’t, not really.”
“Not really. I got what I need.” Mostly, he added silently. “Food on my table. Clothes on my back. A family.”
Bam Bam nodded gravely. “Well. I spent the morning on the set. I tell you, these Hollywood types be busier than gals on Harry Hines Boulevard.”
“Busy?”
“Biz-ah,” Bam Bam confirmed. “I be asking questions all on the low down, and it ain’t who knows what but who’s doing who? Whom? Whatever.”
“Which has what to do with Kristoph’s death?”
“Well, Kristoph was doing McGeorge,” Bam Bam said. “That’s what everyone be saying. But then Marquita be doing someone. And they’s married and all, so not all married folks are okay with their spouse doing someone else, so that’s all that.”
“So who was Marquita—” Bubba trailed off because he didn’t really want to ask who was having sex with whom. It wasn’t a manly question. In fact, it was a tacky question, even if Bam Bam was correct.
“Some say it be Alex Luis,” Bam Bam said and motioned at the little caretaker’s house, “that be the one that got rebuilt?”
“Yep,” Bubba said. “You want some coffee? Or mebe an RC Cola?”
“RC Cola?” Bam Bam repeated thoughtfully as his hands snapped out intricate movements. “I ain’t bin hit with that since I was a little kid, stealing cigarettes from the corner store. You bet.” As they passed Precious, Bam Bam said to her, “Baby dog, did you eat Campbell’s soup today because you are mmm-mmm-good?”
Wow, he’s even got a pick-up line for my dog.
* * *
Bam Bam drank his RC Cola and burped vociferously. “Pardon me,” he said. He pulled a little notepad out of his pocket. They sat at Bubba’s small table in his kitchen because Bubba wanted to make sure that his mother couldn’t approach and eavesdrop, or anyone else for that matter. Who knows what the DEA can do with them listening devices? Bubba nearly shuddered. I’m starting to think like Newt Durley or Lloyd Goshorn. And I ain’t even had a lick of ‘shine to show for it.
Bam Bam touched an index finger to his tongue and began paging through his notepad. “I tole you about Marquita and Kristoph. Marquita is doin’
something with someone but ain’t no one for certain. Then Risley is doin’ someone but he ain’t married and Marquita is his sister so he ain’t doin’ it with her.” Bam Bam paused. “No, no, no. No one said anything about that.”
Bubba pushed a Moon Pie toward Bam Bam.
“Then there’s this sound technician who’s doin’ it with a best boy and a key grip, at the same time,” Bam Bam said. “They call it being polyamorous. They be doin’ it all at the same time. That makes me wonder who’s doin’ what and to who? I mean, it’s two men and a gal. If this one is doin’ that, then what is the other one doin’? Bam Bam has an open mind and all, but I be thinking two is enough. Could be two boys. Could be two girls. But just two. Three sounds like something be wrong.” He shook his head.
“What does that have to do with Kristoph’s death?” Bubba asked. He couldn’t imagine what three were supposed to do either, but he wasn’t going to discuss it with another man. In fact, he couldn’t think of who he would discuss it with.
Bam Bam frowned. “Nothing, I guess, but I be a people person, as you know and folks like to share. Sometimes they be sharing too much, but who am I to tell them to stop.”
“Anything else?” Bubba asked, hoping Bam Bam would say no.
Bam Bam did not say no. He said, “That Tandy North is a wild girl. I don’t think she’s interested in boys or girls. She just wants to play games and act and toke out. Cain’t figure that girl.”
“Did Kristoph give Tandy a hard time about the smoking?”
“Nope. She disappears and comes back happy. Uses a lot of eye drops, but theys used to that.” Bam Bam touched his index finger to his tongue again and flipped more pages. “This fella likes to surf the net for porn. He was sitting in a chair using his Xoom right out in the open. Don’t care who be walking behind him. I did give him a card so if he comes to the Big D, he can hook up with this phat girl I know, Sugar Passionsweet. I hear tell she can do things with her tongue that—”
“Bam Bam!” Bubba said.
“Okay, country boy,” Bam Bam said. “I cain’t help being all business like. Let’s see.” He flipped a few more pages. “There’s that redheaded girl who’s all executive like. She be sneaky. She saw me watching and she was gone faster than yesterday’s wind. I think she be up to something, but I’ll be danged if I know what.”
“What about Schuler?” Bubba asked.
“Schuler,” Bam Bam said. He flipped a few more pages. “He’s a grumpy mutha. He went around tearing folks up. Said someone done stole something from him. The po-lice had him for an hour yesterday, asking him about the shotgun shells. You know, the ones that weren’t supposed to be real. But your sheriff’s deputy brought him back to the set and he seemed like he was in a good mood.”
Bubba finished the rest of his RC Cola. Willodean had taken Schuler in for questioning, which was what Willodean would do. But was she questioning the head makeup artist about Bubba’s shooting or about Kristoph’s death or both? “That’s pretty much nothing. I need to talk to Willodean again.”
“I could go back to the set,” Bam Bam said. “Try to pick up this, that, and the other. You never know when some dumb person is apt to confess that he shouldn’t have tried to kill that person they tried to kill. I cain’t talk about my work to my cousin on account that he’s a patrolman in Alabama. We have these big family get-togethers and I have to pretend I own a fast food place or something. That be embarrassing. My auntie, she be all like, do I have to do what I do? I got great hours and I’m not living on the street. And most of what I do be legal. Mostly.”
“Willodean said Kristoph’s time of death was between four and seven p.m.,” Bubba said. “Mebe ifin we find out where everyone was at during those times.”
“I’ll work on it, but my brotha, that ain’t easy, asking questions like that. ‘Baby, do your legs hurt from running through my dreams all night, and by the by, where you be between four and seven the other day?’” Bam Bam chuckled.
“This is what’s gotta happen,” Bubba said.
“Don’t be fretting, my crazy-cracker-companion,” Bam Bam soothed. “We’ll find the perp and you be as free as a bird, and this movie will make 150 million, of which I will get a quarter percentage point. I done figured that out. Ifin the movie grosses 150 million, then I get 2.5 million out of 100 million profit. You know because the film be costing about 50 million and I be danged if I know what they spending it on.”
Bubba glanced out the window and saw the Pegramville Department of Police vehicle pull up beside the Gremlin. Bam Bam saw it at the same time and said, “And that be my cue to leave your fine domicile.” He stood up, snapped his hands, and offered a fist for Bubba to bump. He glanced at Precious, who was lying on her back in a sunny spot on the floor, “My gorgeous darling, it pains me grievously to part from your buxom being.”
One of her back paws twitched. Like the Garcias’ daughters, Precious knew a flirt when she heard one.
Bam Bam hurried out the door and slunk past Big Joe as he climbed out of his cruiser. Big Joe cast Bam Bam the big hairy eyeball, but didn’t say anything as the other man rushed to the Gremlin. The large police officer simply watched as Bam Bam ground his gears once and then nearly backed over the pile of paint cans that Alfonzo had put nearby.
Of course when Bam Bam had driven away, Big Joe turned his attention to Bubba’s house and to Bubba himself.
Lovely.
Chapter 18
Bubba and the Iconic Investigation
And
Bubba and the Wondrous Willodean
Wednesday, March 13th
Big Joe sat in the same stool that Bam Bam had so recently vacated. (It wasn’t all that strange because there were only two seats in his kitchen.) Bubba didn’t offer Big Joe an RC Cola or a Moon Pie. Instead he sat on the opposite stool and adjusted the sling on his shoulder while the two of them got the staring over and done with.
“Joe,” Bubba said finally. It was a comprehensive word. “What do you want?”, “Why are you here?”, “Are you going to arrest me?”, and “I think your feet smell like limburger cheese.” were all contained in the single word.
“Bubba,” Joe responded in kind. Encompassed in his lone word were “I’m here to question you.”, “You’re still a redneck.”, and “I don’t know ifin I’m goin’ to arrest you, but don’t get too comfy.”
“So, you got shot,” Big Joe continued, breaking the monosyllabic conversation.
Bubba nodded, trying to compensate by saying nothing at all.
“I reckon you know it was likely on purpose,” Big Joe went on.
Bubba nodded again. The conversation was getting lopsided, but he was determined to give it his best shot. (No pun intended.)
“I expect someone was right upset at you for killing the director,” Big Joe said.
“I dint kill Kristoph,” Bubba said immediately. He forgot all about the single word effort. “The charges were dismissed.”
Big Joe nodded sagely. He was a big man as the moniker “Big Joe” implied. He wasn’t as tall as Bubba, lacking only two inches in that department, but he was ten pounds heavier and his gut showed it. The people in Pegramville liked their law enforcement on the southern heavy side and Big Joe was a prime example of how southern and heavy a man could be. It was rumored that he loudly played Jim Nabors records to force his prisoners to confess. There had also been rumors of the police chief playing Justin Bieber singing “Baby” and, when he was particularly feeling obnoxious, any cut of the Spice Girls’ larger-than-life collection.
“So where’s the gruesome twosome with the steel tipped boots?” Bubba asked, referring to two of Big Joe’s more enthusiastic officers, who had once kicked Bubba in the head with said footwear. It had never been definitely proven which one had accomplished the deed, but Bubba had always leaned toward Haynes. “My head don’t feel right unlessin’ one of them fellas is kickin’ it.”
Big Joe smiled. It was an unnerving smile. He had never liked Bubba, and specifically
he had liked Bubba a whole lot less once Bubba had punched him in the face while distracting him. It had been a sleazy move, but Bubba still believed that it was something that had needed to be done. Lives had needed to be saved and Big Joe would have held Bubba back.
“Patrolling,” Big Joe answered. “Lots of work on account of all them movie people. I’m surprised the film company stayed after the director got plugged.”
Bubba knew that Big Joe was a little miffed because the case of Kristoph Thaddeus wasn’t his. Kristoph had died in Pegram County, not in Pegramville proper and that made it a sheriff’s department’s case. However, Bubba’s shooting had occurred in Pegramville High School, which was smack in the middle of Big Joe’s jurisdiction. Big Joe had probably done a perky little dance when he heard, so that he could stick his interfering head right in the middle of Sheriff John’s investigation.
“Uh huh,” Bubba said. It was as noncommittal as he could get. Big Joe knew why the movie people had stayed just as much as Bubba knew. There were almost as many news people wandering around the streets as there had been after the Christmas Killer had instigated her bloody path of revenge. (That meant there were a lot.)
Precious click-clacked into the kitchen, looked at Big Joe, and a canine sneer crossed her face. She growled once and retreated for safer climes. She knew a flirt on first sight, but she also knew a walking, talking jack wagon, too.
Big Joe steepled his fingers. “Who you bin ticking off, boy?”
Bubba thought about it. “Lloyd Goshorn is still unhappy about me. I dint hit him with Roscoe’s car, you know, but he seems to think it was personal. Jeffrey Carnicon wanted me to sign a petition about declaring the separation of church and state impenetrable, but I dint care for his wording, so I said no. He seemed a mite put out.” Big Joe’s mouth opened but Bubba went on. “That professor from Dallas keeps wanting to tear columns down from the mansion and he seems to think I should give him permission since Ma threatened to give him a ‘rectal shotgunostomy.’ But I don’t want a rectal shotgunostomy anymore than that fella does so I said no and he left in a huff.”