The Damn Fool

by George Eliot

me help with some of the labor." He laughed. "You won't believe this, but I have

  never enjoyed anything as much as I enjoyed working on the cabin."

  "Deal," both Toni and Buddy said simultaneously.

  Toni jumped into Buddy's outstretched arms, wrapping her legs around his waist,

  and kissed his lips. "I told you he'd go for it." While Buddy continued to hold

  her, she looked at Lance. "The stuff you bought last night is okay for snacks

  and sandwiches," she said, "but I need to make a trip to Winston to stock up on

  staples and real food."

  "I'm sure you're right," Lance said as he pulled out his billfold. "We need to

  set up some kind of household fund, but until we do, how much do you think you

  need?"

  "A hundred bucks should do it," she said as she pulled away from Buddy.

  "I don�t have that much cash on me."

  "I'm loaded," she said as she beamed at Buddy. "Buddy paid me this morning. You

  can reimburse me later."

  "Wiggle your butt, Ugly," Buddy said. "It's already two o'clock. You whupped me

  at pool last night, but I'm gonna dance off both your shoes tonight. I want you

  all cleaned up and ready to go by five o'clock."

  Toni looked at Lance apologetically. "Buddy and I are going to a barbecue and

  square-dance in Walnut Cove tonight. I'll fix your supper before I leave."

  Lance coughed, stalling for time to think. "No need," he finally said. "I meant

  to tell you. I have plans for tonight myself."

  He spent the afternoon in his study, playing on the Internet. He used various

  search engines, trying to locate a publisher for Toni's short stories. He found

  dozens of sites, called e-zines, that publish short stories, but they either

  paid authors little or nothing.

  He was having a difficult time concentrating. He castigated himself repeatedly

  for not realizing Toni and Buddy were lovers. The signs were all there. They

  even have pet manes for each other, he reminded himself. I got her over her

  hang-up and Buddy is reaping the benefit.

  He looked up the number for Flint's Grocery, dialed and received a busy signal.

  He waited a few minutes and tried again with the same result.

  With images of Toni in Buddy's arms, he walked to the lake, intending to try out

  one of the new rowboats, but changed his mind. He returned to the cabin just in

  time to wave at Buddy as he towed away the RV.

  He tried calling Flint's Grocery again and the line was still busy. "Tracy's

  relief comes on at five," he mumbled to himself. "It's nearly four. I think I'll

  pay her a personal visit."

  Lance quickly showered and changed into a sport shirt and slacks and headed for

  the Flint's Grocery. He slowed as he approached Hospital Road, but changed his

  mind. "She's probably on the pill," he said to the empty Taurus. He tried to

  visualize a romantic encounter with Tracy Flint, but it was Toni's face that

  dominated his mind's eye.

  Chapter Six

 

  As Lance approached Flint's Grocery, something didn't seem quite right. There

  was only one vehicle in the parking lot, an old van, and it was backed up to the

  door, completely blocking it. Probably one of her suppliers, he thought as he

  parked at the far right of the building, but he shouldn't be blocking the door

  like that.

  Still, the scene was suspicious. He slowly walked towards the door, eyeing the

  unmarked van. The rear doors were wide open and Lance peeked inside. It was

  loaded with cases of beer. He peered through the glass in the entrance door to

  the store, but it was too dingy to see anything. He put his hand on the doorknob

  but hesitated as he heard voices from within.

  "What we gonna do with the woman?" a male voice asked.

  "Bring her over here," a second voice said. "On your knees honey. Now!"

  "Don't mess with her, Zeke. She done everything we told her. She give us the

  money and loaded every beer she's got in the van fer us."

  "I ain't gonna mess with her, man. Say yer prayers, honey. Bobby's gonna blow

  yer pretty brains out."

  "Please don't hurt me," Tracy pleaded.

  "You ain't thinkin' straight, Zeke. You're too drunk. I ain't havin' nothin' to

  do with no murder."

  Lance felt his heart pounding as he crouched before the door and used his thumb

  to clean a quarter sized spot on the bottom windowpane.

  "Ain't got no choice, Bobby. She kin identify us. Many trips as she made loading

  the beer on the van, she's probably got the tag number memorized."

  Bobby stood facing the door, his left hand twisted in Tracy's hair as she knelt

  before him, and his right hand holding a pistol. "Zeke, I ain't tradin' a couple

  hundred bucks and a few beers for the 'lectric chair. We kin tie her up and put

  her in the back room. We'll be long gone 'fore anyone finds her."

  "You da one what's too drunk to think straight, Bobby. She seen the license

  tag."

  "I didn't," Tracy begged. "So help me, I didn't look at it. I swear to God I

  won't report this. Just take the money. I won't tell."

  "Waste her, Bobby. Go on. Do it."

  Dad, Lance prayed, you made me play football in high school. Help me remember

  how to make a flying tackle.

  "I ain't gonna do it man."

  "Gimmie the dang gun, chicken. I'll do it."

  "No!" Bobby cried as he lifted the gun in the air, releasing Tracy's hair.

  Zeke reached for the gun and, as the two men struggled, Tracy rolled away,

  momentarily diverting their attention. The gun popped into the air, bounced on

  the counter and fell behind it.

  Lance bolted through the door and threw himself headlong into Zeke's back. The

  force of the blow propelled Zeke into Bobby and the three men tumbled to the

  floor as Tracy scrambled to her feet.

  Bobby rolled to his back and, as he tried to get up, Tracy stomped her right

  brogan directly between his legs. Bobby clutched his groin and howled in pain as

  Zeke, now in a sitting position, launched a wild punch towards Lance who had

  scrambled to his knees. The toe of Tracy's brogan broke Bobby's jaw and his body

  went limp as a right uppercut from Lance caught Zeke under the chin. Zeke

  screamed when his head bounced off the concrete floor. He rolled over and lay

  motionless.

  Panting, Lance looked up at Tracy. "You okay?"

  She nodded.

  "What do we do now?"

  Tracy rushed behind the counter, tossed Lance a roll of duct tape, and dialed

  911 as Lance bound the robbers.

  The elderly farmer who ran the grocery store for Tracy at night was the first to

  arrive, and a deputy sheriff was right behind him. Within minutes, other

  deputies were on the scene and curiosity seekers began to file in.

  Amid the flash of cameras, Lance told his story to three different

  investigators. Tracy was on the other side of the store doing the same thing.

  Onlookers volunteered to unload the stolen beer from the van and soon a tow

  truck arrived and hauled off the vehicle.

  An hour passed before the law enforcement officers departed, but the store was

  now jammed with television crews, curious neighbors and well-wishers who

  surrounded Tracy, expressing their sympathy and hoping for j
uicy details.

  Lance slipped out the door, adrenaline still pumping, but at a lesser rate.

  "Lance. Wait."

  He turned and saw Tracy approaching.

  "What can I say?" she said. "That was the bravest thing I've ever seen. You

  saved my life." She wrapped her arms around his neck.

  "You need to wash your windows, Tracy. If they were clean, people passing on the

  road might have seen what was happening."

  "First thing tomorrow," she promised. "Thank God you showed up when you did, but

  why did you come today? You stocked up on groceries last night."

  "I tried several times to call you, but your line was busy. I thought maybe

  you'd like to do something tonight. I understand there is a dance in Walnut

  Cove. I don't know how to square-dance, but I'm willing to learn."

  She stepped back and smiled sheepishly. "I came on to you pretty strong last

  night, didn't I."

  "I was flattered," he said.

  "You remember me telling you about the mechanic who used to work for my dad?"

  He laughed. "How could I forget? You talked about him all night."

  "He � he called today. Well � actually I called him. We talked a long time. He's

  going to move in with me this weekend and reopen our garage."

  Lance grinned. "I know that's what you wanted, but I thought he refused to work

  for a woman."

  She nodded and smiled. "He won't exactly be working for a woman. I'm going to

  marry the bum and we'll run the place together."

  Lance drove slowly back to Danbury and was trembling when he approached the

  diner. Delayed reaction, he told himself. The parking lot was crowded and he did

  not want to face the antagonism with which he was so familiar.

  He felt weak as he entered the cabin and slumped, exhausted, in his recliner.

  Using the remote control, he clicked on the big screen TV. Local news programs

  were over, but he watched the NBC network news. His mind continuously replayed

  the scene at Flint's Grocery. He knew both WXII-TV and WFMY-TV had film crews on

  the scene and he resolved to watch the eleven o'clock local news.

  Hunger pangs joined the other knots in his stomach and he went to the kitchen,

  but when he sat at the table, looking at the two baloney sandwiches he made, his

  mind rebelled. You deserve better than this, he told himself.

  He checked his watch. Most of the diners will be gone by now, he decided, but

  when he arrived at the Danbury Diner, the parking lot was still full. "Don't

  these people ever go home?" he muttered.

  He screwed up his courage and pushed open the diner door.

  "There he is!" someone shouted.

  Suddenly a crush of people surrounded him, hugging him, shaking both his hands,

  and slapping him on the back. Everyone was talking at once. He didn't even know

  most of the people.

  Someone began singing "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow," and others quickly joined

  in. One of the men from Buddy's crew was standing on a tabletop, waving his

  hands as if he were directing a choir.

  "Leave him be," Skinny demanded as he pushed through the crowd and wrapped his

  arm around Lance. "Man must be starved."

  "His dinner is on me," someone shouted.

  Skinny led him to an empty table. "You like T-bones?" he asked.

  Lance smiled and nodded. "How about fries, my special salad and homemade dinner

  rolls to go with it?"

  "Sounds great."

  "Funny thing, Lance," Red Suspenders said. "I was in my storeroom this afternoon

  and found a whole bunch of them red phones you wanted. You can trade in the

  black one you bought."

  "That's great," Lance replied. "I'll stop by in the morning. Now that I've moved

  into the cabin I need a total of five."

  "Tell us about it," someone pleaded.

  Lance looked up and found he was completely surrounded by a sea of smiling

  faces.

  "Not much to tell. I blundered into a robbery in progress. The two guys were

  drunk as skunks. Tracy took care of one while I took out the other. That's it."

  "Ain't the way I heared it," another of Buddy's crew said. "I went down there

  right after it happened. Heared about it on the scanner at the pool hall. Tracy

  said they was about to kill her when you busted in and whupped tail."

  "Tell us about it, Mr. Sayer," a frail white-haired woman pleaded.

  Lance sighed and told the complete story as best he could. Skinny served the

  meal just as he finished.

  "Take away that Pepsi and give the man a beer," someone said.

  Lance held up his hands as he smiled. "Really, folks. I'd rather have a Pepsi

  tonight."

  Three complete strangers occupied the remaining chairs at his table and the

  surrounding crowd remained. Lance found himself doing more talking than eating.

  He answered questions about the renovation at the cabin, the upcoming fishing

  contest, his computer software business and the Christmas tree project.

  As he finished a huge slab of chocolate cake, Red Suspenders pushed through the

  crowd. "I went and got them red phones for you," he said. "I stacked 'em on the

  front seat of your car."

  "Thanks. I'll stop by and settle up with you tomorrow."

  "No charge," the hardware store owner said as he hooked his thumbs under the

  braces and popped them against his chest.

  "Hey, folks," Skinny said as he approached carrying a cigar box. "I think the

  pool is over and Lance is the winner." As the crowd applauded the decision,

  Skinny placed the container on the table. "The money's yourn," Skinny said with

  his imitation southern drawl, "but you can't have the box. Them things is hard

  to come by."

  Lance sat in the darkened ballroom, flipping back and forth between two

  television stations. WXII-TV ran the story first and WFMY-TV soon followed.

  WXII-TV said his name was Chance Saver. WFMY-TV got his name right but said he

  was a customer in the store who sneaked up on the robbers. Both stations showed

  video of the store, but they only interviewed Tracy on camera. She didn't

  mention Lance.

  She probably did mention me, he thought, but they edited it out. He held up the

  remote control to click off the TV just as the anchor said, "There was a big

  hoe-down in Walnut-Cove tonight. Stay tuned for the story after these messages."

  Lance chuckled at the commercial for sanitary napkins and became thirsty as the

  next commercial showed a man crawling over desert sand towards an oasis composed

  of hundreds of cans of beer floating in a pond of ice. I wonder if they'll show

  video of Buddy and Toni? he asked himself as the anchor introduced the piece.

  They did. Toni's dancing image occupied the entire ninety second spot as a

  narrator told the story. Why not? Lance reasoned. She's a beautiful woman. He

  loved the white cowboy hat she wore, the shiny long-sleeved blue blouse that

  ended just below her breasts, the extra short blue miniskirt that began just

  below her navel and the white boots on her feet.

  Lance nursed a beer as, propped up in his bed, he watched the Tonight Show. When

  he snapped off the lights and settled between the sheets, he smiled as he

  relived the scene at the Danbury Diner. The television stations may not see me

  as a her
o, he thought, but the people who count do.

  The smile disappeared when he heard Buddy's truck park in front of the cabin. He

  listened for the sound of truck doors opening. After ten minutes, he could stand

  it no longer. Leaving the bedroom lights off, he moved to the window. The porch

  light he left on for Toni illuminated the truck, but tree branches obscured his

  vision of the occupants.

  Wonder what they're doing? he asked himself. He laughed sarcastically and said

  aloud, "You have to ask?"

  When Lance went to the kitchen for morning coffee, Toni, dressed in a

  see-through nightgown, sat at the kitchen table, watching a television news

  program.

  She jumped up and hugged him. "Lance," she cried. "You're a hero. I'm so proud

  of you."

  "Didn't amount to much," he said as he pulled away from her. "It's no big deal."

  She watched him pour a cup of coffee. "I think it's a big deal."

  He shrugged his shoulders and leaned against the counter, sipping the steaming

  liquid from his favorite red cup and forcing himself not to look at the luscious

  body the thin material clearly revealed. "You have a good time last night?"

  She nodded. "It was okay. The food was good."

  He looked out the kitchen window. Two robins were fighting on the rail of the

  deck. He chuckled when he realized what they were really doing. "I caught you on

  the eleven o'clock news last night. I'd like to see you sometime in your dancing

  clothes. You looked great on TV."

  "Lance, is something wrong?"

  "No, I just wish you'd do me a favor."

  "Name it."

  "Put a robe on when you're wearing that thin nightgown."

  "I � I'm sorry. I'm used to living alone. I just didn't think." She moved beside

  him, took the mug from his hand and set it on the counter. She wrapped her arms

  around his waist. "I thought you'd enjoy seeing me like this."

  He did not push her away, but neither did he hold her. "It's bad enough

  imagining you in Buddy Mabe's arms. It's pure torture seeing your sexy body, and

  knowing that it belongs to Buddy."

  She hugged him tighter. "I'll have you know my sexy body belongs to me, Lance

  Sayer. Buddy and I have been friends practically from the day we were born, and

  friends is all we are."

  "Maybe, but you sure have me fooled. You go around hugging and kissing him all

  the time, you call him 'Handsome,' you went out with him Thursday night and

  again last night."

  She refilled her cup, returned to the table and stood there with her back turned

  to him.

  Lance stole a glance. Her backside is just as gorgeous as the front, he

  observed.

  "I told you where we were going last night. Buddy and I have won first prize in

  the square-dancing contest at the annual Walnut Cove Hoe-down for the last nine

  years."

  "According to the TV, you won again last night."

  She nodded. "Thursday afternoon I kept an appointment with Doc Henderson about

  my cramps. I ran into Buddy at the diner and we wound up shooting a few games of

  pool."

  "You sick?"

  "You know about my cramps."

  "Was the doctor able to help?"

  "We'll find out the next cycle. He gave me a Depo-Provera injection."

  "Never heard of it."

  She laughed. "It's a birth control drug. The advantage over the pill is that

  it's effective a week after receiving it, where you have to be on the pill for a

  month. You need a shot every thirteen weeks instead of taking the pill every day

  and the best part � the reason Doc Henderson wanted me to try it � is that for

  some women it greatly reduces cramping."

  "I hope it helps," he said as he refilled his mug.

  "What do you want for breakfast?"

  "I ate so much at the diner last night, I'm not hungry this morning." He headed

  for the door.

  "Lance, hug me just once."

  He did not turn nor slow down. "I don't hug other men's women," he said. "You

  and I are just friends, remember?"

  She screamed after him. "I'm not Buddy Mabe's woman. Lance, sometimes you make

  me so angry I could cuss."

  They spent the morning working together in the study, but not speaking. Lance

  was desperately trying to get back into the program enhancement interrupted two

  months earlier. Toni was learning to use Microsoft Word by entering several of