James Ross - A Character-Based Collection (Prairie Winds Golf Course)

by James Ross

  Tuey O’Tweety had no intention of staying away from city hall. He had an application in for a special use permit on some land that he had under contract. It was far too expensive for him to hire an attorney to take care of the matter so he planned to arrive at city hall to play his politics. With letter in hand he walked through the front door more or less defying anyone to stop him.

  On his heels was Riley (Bucky) Lawton. Bucky had been paying more attention to the squirrels gathering nuts in front of the old city hall building than minding the front door. Tuey chose not to bring too much attention to himself and sneaked around the side of the building. When the coast was clear he darted through the door. At the last minute Bucky caught a glimpse of the lime green skull cap that the visitor had been wearing. Mayor Leavitt and city attorney Kenneth Ficke had told him to keep a lookout for the unwelcome resident. He immediately called Festus, the Sergeant of Arms, for back-up. The two of them confronted Tuey in the corridor.

  “Tuey, don’t make us use force,” Bucky pleaded. He reached over and grabbed Tuey’s massive forearm.

  “Fo’ what?” Tuey asked.

  “To get you to leave,” Festus countered. His round physique didn’t look like it was capable of using force on anything. It was geared more to be wedged between the door jambs.

  “I’s not gonna come here’s ta cause you’s no trouble,” Tuey said as he tipped his intentions.

  “Then what are ya doin’ here?” Bucky asked as he rested his teeth on his lower lip.

  “Dis here is uh political meetin’, ain’t it?” Tuey asked.

  Festus rolled his head from side to side as the folds around his chin flapped to catch up. His bulging eyes looked out of the top of the sockets. “It’s the monthly planning and zoning meeting,” he reminded the citizen.

  “Den I’s jus’ gonna play my politics,” Tuey explained to the two.

  “But you ain’t allowed at the meetin’s no more,” Bucky whined.

  Tuey pulled the letter out of the envelope. He unfolded it and waved it at the two security guards. “Dis letter jus’ sez dat I’s can’t go ta da meetin’,” Tuey pointed out. “Dat meetin’ don’t start ’til seven.”

  Bucky and Festus looked at each other, bewildered. “Let me look at that,” Festus said as he took the letter from Tuey. His face reddened as his prominent eyes slowly scoured the type. He glanced back at Bucky. “He’s got a point. It just says that he is banned from the meeting.”

  “Then I guess we have to let him go in,” Bucky said as he relaxed his grip on Tuey’s arm. “That isn’t the intent of the letter.”

  “Den you’s gotsta talk ta Mista Ficke ’bout dat,” Tuey claimed. “It wuz his words.” Obviously in his haste to generate the letter the city attorney had left a loophole in the language. It took three unsophisticated minds in a corridor with wooden plank floors to realize what the basics of the letter stated. “When da meetin’ starts, den dat’s when I’s gonna leave,” Tuey assured the pair.

  Festus and Bucky shrugged their shoulders. “Just don’t cause us no trouble,” Bucky pleaded.

  “Yeah, we don’t want to go through what we did at the last meeting,” Festus said. He and Bucky had done much of the clean-up work after the pumpkin was smashed.

  “I’s ain’t gots my wagon wit’ me,” Tuey said as he flashed them a smile. He raised his arms so that Festus could pat him down for concealed weapons.

  Bucky scratched his head as he moved off to the side. “What is it you’re gonna do in there?”

  “I’s jus’ gonna sit in da front row ’til da meetin’ starts.”

  Festus moved out of the door. “I guess it’s your right. Just don’t give us no trouble.”

  “I’s won’t,” Tuey said as he moved past the two guards and entered the meeting room. “Have mercy on you.” He eased his athletic body into a seat on the front row, just opposite where the aldermen sat. The room was empty. Tuey had arrived forty minutes early. An eerie sensation permeated the space as the solitary figure sat motionless. Tuey peered out the window as the sun crept toward the horizon. The musty smell of the old brick building had crept into every crack and crevice.

  Several minutes elapsed. The stillness and quiet announced to the ghosts that the coast was clear. Without saying a word, Festus crept across the room. His body loped as it moved. Shoulders slouched. His head bobbed as if it was in a bridle and he chomped on a bit. Slowly he opened a door and entered into an area reserved for the aldermen. Tuey didn’t stir. Not a muscle moved. Only a slight in and out movement of his chest cavity could be detected from his rhythmic breathing.

  Whatever Festus did in the back chambers got some activity generated. Sweet, silent LaVerne Price, the council person for Ward Four, emerged from the back chamber. Of all of the players in city government, LaVerne was the least likely to walk into an empty room. Festus followed her out of the chambers and took a seat at the far end of the front table. He wasn’t about to leave LaVerne and Tuey alone together. Tuey nodded at the councilwoman to acknowledge her presence.

  The compassion in LaVerne’s eyes was evident the second she entered the room. Meekly, she grabbed her seat and smiled at Tuey. Perhaps the powers-to-be of the city had decided to take a different approach with the independent contractor. Had they planned to kill him with kindness? If so, they sent the correct representative. “Hi Tuey,” LaVerne said as her mouth twitched and her nose wiggled.

  “Hi, Miss Price,” Tuey replied.

  “You’re not here to cause any problems tonight, are you?”

  Humbly, Tuey replied gently. “No ma’am. I jus’ thought dat I’s would come an’ apologize.” Tuey was wise enough to know that the only way that he could get the necessary votes for his permit application was to change his tone and attempt to make amends for his past behavior.

  “We’ve begun the healing process,” LaVerne told him, willing to forget about the incident with the pumpkin a month earlier.

  “So has I.”

  “We have to live in harmony,” LaVerne stressed in a tone that sincerely indicated care and consideration.

  “Dat’s what I’s like ta do too,” Tuey admitted. “Dey’s jus’ bin makin’ it so tough on me.”

  “We talked about that very thing the last few weeks,” LaVerne confided. “We want to help you and try not to be so confrontational.” Her nose wiggled some more. Tuey wondered if that was a sign that she was lying. “I can’t speak for the others, but I want to honestly put an end to all of these little battles.”

  “Den dey’s should jus’ let me be.”

  LaVerne smiled. “And I’m going to try all that I can to get the permit for you so that you can have a place to park your vehicles.” The tender care that she was exhibiting gave Tuey the assurances that the past was the past and the future was going to be better for him and LeVournique.

  The Ward One councilwoman joined the pair. Tillie Vinton couldn’t miss anything. She craned her neck into their conversation. “What are you doing here?” she immediately confronted Tuey.

  “I’s leavin’ befo’ da meetin’ starts. I jus’ wanted ta come an’ apologize.”

  Tillie’s overbite made Bucky’s look mild. She wasn’t as compassionate as LaVerne, but liked what she heard from Tuey. “That’s good to hear. You’re not supposed to be in the meeting. You’ve been banned.”

  Tuey shook his head in agreement. “I’s knows dat I’s wuz wrong. An’ I’s wanted ta come ova here befo’ da meetin’ ta try ta make tings right wit’ aw uh you peoples.”

  “I like to hear that Tuey,” her words rang out the same tune that LaVerne had recited. “We’re going to try to help you.”

  “It can’t be soon enough,” Tuey said as the clock started to near seven o’clock. The room had begun to fill up. He got up to exit the room. As he was walking away he turned to the two councilwoman and said, “I’s gonna be good ta my word. I’s hopes dat you’s is good ta yours.”

  “We’ll be fair,” Tillie pledged.

  “Den
have mercy on you.”

  It was a big night for Harold Syms and Neal Brownfield. Their development proposal was the major event of the night. Harold was anxious to get the council to sign off on the project so they could start developing the property and have building lots available for later the next spring.

  It wasn’t too long after Tuey exited the premises that the project was approved by unanimous vote. Harold Syms had a leg up on his next money making venture. Neal Brownfield hoped to go along for a profitable ride. Mayor Leavitt had a continuous smile plastered on his face. It was uncertain how much he stood to gain under the table from the decision. But the atmosphere in the October P & Z meeting was a lot more jovial than that of a month earlier.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  “Where is it we have to go?” J Dub asked BowTye.

  “It’s not too far from here, Mister J Dub,” BowTye replied. “I passed it this mornin’ on the way in . . . when I was on my bike.” BowTye had been relocated to the East St. Louis after Hurricane Katrina and was living in housing provided by the church that J Dub attended. He always rode a bicycle to work since he couldn’t yet afford a car.

  “Why don’t you hop in the cab with us?” J Dub proposed. Dr. DV was planning on making the trip with them.

  BowTye took one look at Dr. DV’s tall frame and begged off. “No, Mister J Dub. There’s not room for all three of us. I’ll ride my bike and you can follow.”

  “We’ve got to take one of them over to your house, don’t we?” J Dub asked. BowTye nodded his head in agreement. “That’s too far for you to ride. If you don’t want to get in the cab, then why don’t you hop into the bed?”

  “You don’t mind?” BowTye asked. Besides his sincere friendliness his rich, deep voice was a feature that attracted people to him.

  “Heck no,” J Dub said. “Let’s get down there, pick them up, and get them delivered. I don’t want to make it an all-day event.” He turned to Dr. DV. “You ready?”

  The veterinarian nodded his head as he reached for the door. “I can’t be gone for any length of time. If I leave Jerry in there too long, he won’t be able to walk out the door.” He knew his retired pilot buddy all too well.

  BowTye hopped into the back of the pickup while J Dub and the doctor jumped into the cab. “Tell me how to get there.” J Dub put the truck into gear and drove off the lot.

  They only traveled a few blocks as BowTye shouted instructions into the window. “It’s down this street,” he yelled as he motioned with his hand. J Dub eased the pickup to the curb. He could tell where to stop. There was only one garage sale on the street. The three men got out of the vehicle and walked up the driveway. “These are the two that we need to take with us,” BowTye said as he pointed to two old couches. “I got both of them for the price of one.”

  J Dub took one look at the two pieces of furniture and shook his head in dismay. “Okay, this means two separate trips. We can’t get them both in the bed at the same time.” He lowered the tailgate. J Dub pointed to the divan with maroon covering. “You want this one to go to your house?” BowTye nodded. J Dub and Dr. DV loaded his choice into the back of the pickup. “Let’s get this one over to your place and we’ll come back and take the other one to the course.”

  BowTye lived in a small, frame house not too far away. It was between a vacant, weed-covered lot and several uninhabited, graffiti-covered houses that were host to crack parties. His home had been remodeled by the church group. It had one main room, a kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom. J Dub and Dr. DV carried the couch through the front door and noticed that it took up fifty percent of the main room. But BowTye didn’t care. It was an improvement over what he had.

  Twenty minutes later they were back hauling the second couch off of the garage sale site. The other piece of furniture had a gold, green, and purple pattern and was longer than the first couch. “We’ll have to leave the tailgate down to haul this one,” J Dub said after he and the vet loaded it into the pickup bed. “Hop in. I’ve got the perfect spot for it.”

  The golf course was only a few blocks away and the trio started the short trek back. They hadn’t traveled halfway when the twirling lights of a patrol car flashed in the rear view mirror. J Dub eased the truck to the shoulder and Officer Theo Beckett approached the window. “Do you have any idea what you are in violation of?” the officer asked as J Dub turned and looked to his left.

  J Dub looked skyward and rolled his eyes. Never in his wildest dreams did he think that he would get pulled over traveling such a short distance to his destination. “Probably a number of things,” he admitted.

  “I come up with three,” Officer Beckett counted.

  J Dub thought for a second. “Let’s see, the tailgate is down for one. There’s no red flag for something hanging out the rear of the truck for two. And I have a passenger in the bed of the truck.”

  Officer Beckett reached into his back pocket to grab his citation book. He flipped through the pages and stopped at the next ticket. “Very good. You knew what you were doing wrong.”

  “But I’m only hauling this couch a couple of more blocks over to the golf course,” J Dub pleaded. “We got it at a garage sale.”

  “That doesn’t make what you’re doing above the law,” Beckett reminded the golf pro. He pushed his sunglasses up off the bridge of his nose until the lenses covered his forehead. He studied J Dub before writing the ticket. “You look familiar. Where do I know you from?”

  “Probably Prairie Winds,” J Dub answered. “I’m the owner and golf pro over there.”

  “That’s where I know you from!” the officer conceded. “I take my kids over there every now and then.”

  “You’re more than welcome to play a round on me the next time,” J Dub offered, well aware that he might be committing a more serious crime of bribing a police officer. He backpedaled a little. “I’m a big proponent of youth golf. They’re never too young to start.”

  Beckett looked at the golf pro and grinned. He put his citation book back into his hip pocket. “Seeing that you only have a couple more blocks to travel I’ll just give you a warning this time around. You knew what you were in violation of.” He turned to go back to the squad car. “Look for me. You know I’m going to take you up on your offer.”

  J Dub breathed a sigh of relief. He glanced out of the side of his eye across the front seat of the cab at Dr. DV. He shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrow. Then a broad smile flashed across his face. “It’s nice to get lucky once in a while.”

  “You were smooth,” Dr. DV commented. “His income is limited. He’d love to have a free round of golf for him and his kids. Doing something like that doesn’t hurt him one bit.” The pickup pulled away from the side of the road and continued to the golf course property. Minutes late J Dub pulled up to the metal maintenance building out on the course.

  After jumping out of the bed of the pickup BowTye said, “That was a pretty cool move Mister J Dub.”

  “Sometimes you have to schmooze a little,” J Dub said.

  “My friend at church isn’t so lucky,” BowTye said. “He’d do anything for the people of the city, but they won’t give him a chance.”

  “Which guy is that?” J Dub probed as he and Dr. DV wrestled the couch out of the back of the pickup.

  “My friend Tuey,” BowTye continued. “He’s the excavating contractor. He can’t talk his way out of a phone booth.” He slid open the door of the shed as J Dub and Dr. DV carried the couch through the door. “I bet they’ve given him over two hundred tickets.”

  “Then I’ll consider myself lucky,” J Dub said as he and the vet put the couch against the wall by the work bench.

  “He needs some help,” BowTye said. “They’ve written so many tickets to him that the city is about ready to shut him down.” Cats scurried around the barn as the furniture found its resting spot.

  “That looks pretty good right there,” J Dub said temporarily winded. “That will be perfect for the work crew for lunch or a break or w
hatever.”

  “Maybe for the cats,” Dr. DV said as the four-legged animals started to examine the new addition.

  “Maybe I’ll have him contact you so that you can give him some pointers,” BowTye said. “He’s real down and out, you know.”

  “That’s fine,” J Dub said. “Lots of times it’s not what is said, but how it’s said.”

  “It sho’ do look like you can give him some help wit’ dat,” BowTye said. He was impressed with how J Dub had maneuvered the officer.

  Dr. DV picked up a gray cat with distinct white paws. He started to pet it under the ear. “That’s our number one resident cat around here,” J Dub explained. “Justin and Keith name it Puddles after it peed on Justin one morning.” The guys laughed.

  All of a sudden the vet yelled, “Ow!” He pulled his hand back and the cat jumped from his arms, onto the couch, and scurried off behind some lawn mowers. “That thing bit me!” He examined his hand. The skin on his finger had barely been broken.

  “What did you do to it?” J Dub asked.

  “Nothing,” Dr. DV said. We were getting along great I thought.” He laughed. “I’ve been treating cats and dogs for nearly forty years and I’ve never had a cat nip at me.” He paused. “And only one dog has every gotten me.”

  “You’re not losing your touch, are you?” J Dub asked.

  “I hope not,” the vet said, “or I’d have to think about retiring. And I don’t want to do that.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  J Dub and Curt arrived in the parking lot of First Cornstalk Bank a little before ten. A high pressure system had brought picture-perfect weather to the area. It was seventy-two degrees, sunny, with no humidity or wind. J Dub looked sharp dressed in golf slacks and a form fitting Polo shirt to show off his excellent physique. Curt took a more laid back approach wearing a Tommy Bahama shirt over his belt to cover the fanny pack around his waist. He was hooked up to a port catheter that was delivering chemotherapy intravenously.

  Ricki Sandstoner was her usual pleasant self. In a tight dress and four-inch heels she stood eye to eye with the brothers. It was apparent to J Dub and Curt that even though Harold Syms was the bank president and owner, it was Ricki who ran the show. Her straightforward, no-nonsense manner was fitted for a banking atmosphere, but she had the innate ability to joke around and make the customers feel relaxed and comfortable.