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

by James Ross

  The first thing he had done that morning at Prairie Winds was place the frozen carp in a wooden box and set it near the space heater in the maintenance shed. The icy treat needed to thaw out for the animals to eat. Tuey had the foresight to know that Puddles and company would get to the fish as soon as they discovered the scent. So he secured the lid and checked it twice before leaving the heater to do its defrosting duties.

  Quitting time for lunch neared and Tuey excused himself from his crew. He made a beeline for the shed and was amused to see Puddles and a host of other cats scratching and clawing at the wooden box. The felines couldn’t get too close on the hot side of the box because of the searing heat that poured out of the portable heater. As he approached, one of the cats swung its tail into the facing of the space heater. The ensuing screech and skyward jump caused Tuey to stop in his tracks with a wide-eyed look. “Is you’s okay puddin’?” he asked as he made a motion toward the frightened cat. It scurried off to an undisclosed spot.

  Puddles was quick to approach Tuey and hurriedly moved its body back and forth against his camouflage suited leg. He switched off the space heater and took the lid off of the box. A distinct stench instantly permeated the shed, almost knocking Tuey to his knees. A thawed fish eye seemed to stare back at Tuey as it floated in the socket. “Whew, weeeeee!” Tuey exclaimed to no one in particular. “Dat’s some nasty . . . . whew, weeeee.” He raised his sleeve to cover his nostrils. “I’s don’t know if I’s can carry dis smell wit’ me through da woods.”

  Puddles jumped up on the bench and peered in the box. A series of mews followed. The feline sensed that feeding time was near. “Don’ts ya be axtin’ me fo’ none uh dis Puddles. Dis be goin’ to our frien’s in da cave. You’s got’s food in da bowl by da door.” Tuey grabbed the couple of fish wrapped in freezer paper and headed for the door. Puddles instinctively bolted out of the shed toward the woods. Several other cats rubbed against Tuey’s leg and mewed incessantly. With a gentle kick or two he managed to keep them in the shed and quickly closed the door.

  The brisk breeze was annoying as it hit Tuey’s face but it also served to disperse the disgusting odor. With Puddles leading the way the contractor headed into the trees, along the creek, and occasionally ducked beneath some dormant underbrush. Several hundred yards later the entrance to the cave revealed itself. “You’s be uh good guide,” Tuey said as he reached down and petted Puddles under the ears. He opened the freezer paper and tore off a chunk of raw fish, scales and all. The cat instantly jumped on the piece when it hit the ground. “You’s wait here. I’s be back soon.” He placed the fish inside his suit.

  Tuey stooped and crawled through the cave’s small opening. After a few feet on his hands and knees he rose to his feet in the main chamber. The strong aroma from the carp quickly gathered his animal buddies at his feet. The raccoon, the defacto leader of the pack, danced in violent circles. “Is ya happy ta sees me?” Tuey asked as his eyes grew accustomed to the dim yellow illumination let off by the fireflies.

  The longer Tuey stood in the larger chamber the more the smell of the fish filled the room. The raccoon continued to dance in circles around his feet. As Tuey’s eyes adjusted a voice echoed through the hollow cavity. “You’re safe in here.” Tuey looked around not knowing what to expect. The varmint had stopped circling. It had waddled along the wall, stopped, and stared directly at Tuey. Puddles had finished the scraps of carp and had followed the scent to Tuey’s feet.

  “Where’s duz I know you’s from?” Tuey asked. “You’s looks familiar.”

  “I run this place. This is all ours. The others call me Bandit because of my mask.”

  Tuey stared at the raccoon. His mind traveled back to his prior experiences. “Dat’s it!” he declared. “Dat’s where’s I’s knows you’s from! You’s looks jus’ likes dat Mayor Leavitt.”

  “Who’s he?” Bandit asked.

  “He’s da mayor dat runs dat town dat I’s lives in.”

  “Well, I run this place,” Bandit asserted.

  “An’ bot’ you’s two looks uh like.”

  Bandit took his paw and rubbed it across his face several times. A slight grin appeared on his face. “That guy that runs that town that you’re from must be one good lookin’ guy if he looks like me.”

  “I’s dunno ’bout dat,” Tuey said. A rat scurried along the wall. Tuey felt squeamish. Maybe I’s oughta git outta here, he thought. He reached down and picked up Puddles.

  “What are you nervous about?” Bandit asked as he saw Tuey squirm.

  “I’s dunno ’bout dat rat,” Tuey said as he nodded in the direction of the rat. Its beady eyes, pointed nose, and unpredictable behavior gave him the heebie-jeebies.

  “That’s a good friend of mine,” Bandit said. “He’s my right hand man.” A quick glance at the rat followed. “Come on over here.” The rat hurried through the semi-darkness and cozied up to the raccoon. “This is Deputy Matt.”

  “Da rat,” Tuey said. He looks jus’ like dat frien’ uh Mayor Leavitt’s . . . dat skuzzy lawya named Monty.

  A clicking noise bounced off of the walls of the cave. It sounded like dripping water, but Tuey’s hearing told him that it wasn’t. His eyes searched the chamber for the origin of the noise. Huddled in a far corner was a squirrel, munching on a walnut. Bandit noticed that Tuey saw the squirrel. “That’s another friend of mine that lives in here,” he said. “His name is Nuts. You met him the other day too.”

  Tuey thought back to the snack that he had recently bought at Suds, Slugs, & Sinkers. “I’s gots jus’ da present fo’ him.” I’s be darn if dat li’l guy don’t looks jus’ like dat Mista Ficke down dere at dat dere city hall.

  Tuey took a slight step, slipped on a wet rock, and dropped the fish that was wrapped in freezer paper when he attempted to regain his balance. Bandit quickly scurried over, grabbed the bag, and retreated back to his position by the wall. Deputy Matt and Nuts scampered over to the fish. In seconds the gang had torn into the carp. “Hey, what’s you’s guys doin’ wit’ dat fish?” Tuey wailed.

  “We’re hungry. You don’t mind sharing, do you?” Bandit asked in between bites. In a matter of seconds the scent from the food attracted quite a party. The contents of the freezer paper provided a buffet for a diverse bunch of critters. A badger and gopher as well as a beaver entered the room. A rabbit hopped into the lunch line. Finally a turtle and a frog made it to the fray. Two black snakes slithered across the rock floor and a fox darted over to the meal.

  “Are aw uh dese people’s yo’ frien’s too?” Tuey asked Bandit as he watched the contents devoured.

  “Uh huh,” the raccoon said as he looked over his shoulder and nodded his head. “We’re all one big happy family.”

  “Duz dey aw have names like da udders?” Tuey asked.

  “Sure they do,” Bandit answered. He motioned toward the badger and said, “His name is Wisconsin.” Tuey stared at the creature. “And we call the golden gopher, Minnesota.”

  Tuey studied the pair and his mind wandered back to city hall. Dose two looks jus’ like dose two councilmen.

  “Then we have Bucky. That’s the beaver,” Bandit said. The animal flapped its tail in a puddle of water. Wisconsin pushed some fish bones onto Bucky’s tail. The beaver jettisoned the remains through the air toward Tuey. The frog hopped by. “And of course we can’t forget about Burp.”

  Dat Bucky an’ Burp looks jus’ like dose two security guards at dat dere city hall, Tuey thought. Dat Burp one duz da pledges of allegiance. And dat Bucky is da one dat’s outside.

  “We call the other two Nose Twitch and Snapper.”

  “Dat would be da rabbit an’ da turtle?” Tuey guessed.

  “You’re good,” Bandit said sarcastically.

  Dem two looks jus’ like dat Tillie Vinton an’ LaVerne Price . . . dose two council womens.

  The fox darted through the chamber. “He’s the one that makes us all accountable. His name is Socks. He’s the brains and I carry out his orders.”


  Dat would be dat hairy banka, Harold. Tuey shifted his attention to the two black snakes. “Dint ya forgit ’bout two uh dem?”

  “You must be talkin’ about Mista Slime and Ms. Slither.”

  Dat would be dat R. W. Reeves an’ dat Big Bertha, Tuey mused. Da two uh dem deserves each udder. “Yeah, dem’s two. What duz dey’s do ’round here?”

  “They do our dirty work when we need to enforce our laws.”

  “You’s be havin’ laws in here?” Tuey asked.

  “Yeah, they do as I say or they leave,” Bandit said.

  “What duz ya calls uh life like dat?”

  “That would be a dictatorship,” Bandit said coolly.

  “An’ if I dint turn ova’s my fish . . .”

  “ . . . then we would have told you to leave.”

  Tuey looked at the raccoon as if what he had just said turned on a light bulb. “Is dat aw dat you’s wants from me?”

  Bandit wasn’t about to let Tuey know that his gang of misfits was more interested in the food. “No, no, no. That came out wrong. You’re our connection to the humans and the outside world,” the raccoon said in a voice that boomed through the open cavity. “We don’t want you to think that all we want from you is your food.” Bandit turned to Socks and Deputy Matt and snickered.

  “I’s wuz tinkin’ dat you’s jus’ wantin’ me’s fo’ da foods dat I’s can brings ta you’s,” Tuey drawled in a simple monotone.

  “No way,” Deputy Matt squealed as he ran along the wall. His pointed nose and oscillating whiskers craved the odor of the fish.

  Socks, the sly fox added, “With you we have a sense of protection and security.”

  Tuey’s disposition turned gleeful. His new friends made him feel important. “Dis is da first time dat I’s feeled wanted in uh long times.”

  “Friends are what make the world go around,” Nuts said. “You can’t have enough of them.”

  The rotten fragrance from the decaying carp kept the group in a mild frenzy. Sheriff Bandit once again began circling the empty wrapper. “I’s knows dat food be da ways ta you’s heart,” Tuey said as he reached into his insulated suit and brought out a second carp wrapped in freezer paper. “Here’s some mo’ fo’ you’s. But I’s wants you’s ta share dis delicacy. Dis here carp be uh whole lot betta den dat peanut butta an’ jelly dat I’s brought to you’s da udder day.”

  Minnesota and Wisconsin, Bucky and Burp, Nose Twitch and Snapper, as well as Mr. and Ms. Slime cavorted at Tuey’s feet. “Feed the others first,” Sheriff Bandit said. The raccoon knew that the others would obey his orders if he fed them before the leaders.

  Tuey broke the carp in half and threw the tail end of the fish onto the shale floor. Even after devouring the first fish the gang reacted as if it were the Last Supper. They tore into the scales and bones and raw meat. “I’s saved da best part fo’ you’s, Sheriff Bandit.” Tuey held the carp’s head in his hand and looked at the raccoon. He reached down and the raccoon made a quick bite at the fish. He once again tore off a small piece of Tuey’s forefinger. “Ow! You’s li’l bugga! What’s you’s doin’ ta me? Dat’s da same finga dat you’s bit da udder day.”

  Sheriff Bandit was too busy devouring the carp to comment. Tuey reached into the pockets of his insulated camouflage suit and grabbed a wadded up napkin. Hurriedly he opened the napkin with the intent of wrapping his finger. The glitter that Scottie P had given him flittered through the air. As it hit the light of the fireflies, the chamber was transformed into a kaleidoscope. Prisms of light flashed. The sparkles exploded like fireworks, then glistened as they floated to rest. “What do you think you are doing to us?” the raccoon said as he covered his eyes. “That is blinding!”

  “I’s jus’ tryin’ ta stop aw uh da bleedin’,” Tuey said as he wrapped the napkin around his finger. The blood was dripping on the floor. He applied pressure in an attempt to slow the bleeding. “Dat was Scottie P’s fairy dust dat come out uh da napkin.”

  “Scottie P?” Socks asked. “Who’s that?”

  “Dat’s uh frien’ uh mine from da golf course.”

  “What kind of friend?” Deputy Matt asked, suspicious of the response.

  “He’s jus’ one uh da guys,” Tuey explained.

  All of the nocturnal animals had covered or closed their eyes to protect them from the full spectrum of glistening twinkles. “Maybe you ought to leave,” Socks suggested. “This has all happened so fast.” Referring to the glitter he continued, “If you bring that kind of present, then maybe we can do without you.”

  “I’s dint know dat I’s wuz goin’ ta git my finga bit off,” Tuey said as he balked at the proposal.

  The animals had gotten their meal. “Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Sheriff Bandit said as he seconded the motion.

  “Dis be startin’ ta sound mo’ like da fokes at dat dere city hall,” Tuey said as he pinched the napkin tighter on his finger.

  “This is our city, you know,” Nuts put forward. “We write the rules and enforce them.”

  “You can come around and bring us food but not all of those bright lights. Right now we want you to leave,” Sheriff Bandit said emphatically realizing that all of the bellies were full. He nodded to Bucky and Burp. The beaver and the frog approached Tuey.

  A hurt frown encompassed Tuey’s face. “Dat’s uh fine howdy-do fo’ me’s feedin’ aw uh you’s.” Tuey clutched Puddles close to his chest, backed out of the chamber, bent to his knees and crawled through the tunnel.

  “Nobody said life was fair,” Socks barked.

  “Yeah, we didn’t know you would blind us,” Sheriff Bandit added.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  The Christmas season was in full swing. Barely a week and a half remained before the glorious holiday. Neal Brownfield took the time to make his rounds and spread the good cheer. Norma was at the far end of the counter wrapping up an order for two heavy-set customers when he walked through the door and plopped himself on a stool at the opposite end of the counter.

  “What do you want today? The usual?” Norma asked the fellow that had his arm in a sling.

  “Oh yeah,” Pork Chop replied. “But I need for you to cut it up for me.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” Norma asked.

  Pork Chop tilted his head forward and looked out the top of his eyes, embarrassed to reveal how the injury occurred. “I tore my rotator cuff.”

  Fred snickered. Norma placed her hands on her hips. “How?”

  “On the golf course,” Pork Chop meekly revealed.

  “You don’t really want to know how,” Fred chimed in.

  Norma stared at Pork Chop. “Okay,” she conceded. “I’ll just assume that it was because you’re out of shape.”

  Fred roared. “You can bet on that!”

  “You’ve got a lot of room to talk!” Norma yelled at Fred. His size dwarfed Pork Chop. “What do you want this mornin’?”

  “Give me steak and eggs,” Fred said.

  “Cooked the usual?” Norma asked.

  Fred nodded. “Medium and over easy.”

  “What else do you want with it?”

  “Pepto Bismol,” Pork Chop interrupted. The guys laughed. Norma shook her head and reached for the coffee pot. With a chuckle she placed a napkin, knife, and spoon down on the counter in front of both men. Then she continued to the opposite end to wait on Neal. “Hey! How have you been?” Before Neal could reply she asked, “Livin’ your dream?”

  “Hardly,” Neal whispered sounding frustrated.

  “What’s wrong?” Norma asked sensing that something was wrong. She placed a fresh cup of coffee in front of her longtime regular.

  “It’s not going the way we hoped,” Neal said. He looked at the blinking Christmas lights hanging above the grille and the green and red glittery “Noel” that accompanied them.

  “I thought that things started off real well,” Norma said surprised. “Weren’t we going to move to North Carolina together so that I could paint on my easel?�
�� She wiped down the counter in front of Neal.

  He opened the morning newspaper. “That was about the only thing that went smoothly.” Neal reached into his pocket, pulled out reading glasses, and placed them on his nose.

  “Like they say . . .”

  “What?” Neal wondered.

  “That’s real estate,” Norma blurted.

  “Yeah, well, that’s part of it,” Neal began, beginning to sound like Scrooge.

  “With the farm it sounds to me like that is all of it,” Norma mildly disagreed.

  Neal didn’t have the holiday cheer after all. Maybe it was the cloudy weather. “It’s my partner . . . and the deal we made . . . and the constant delays getting things done,” he complained.

  “Things always take longer than usual,” Norma said. She placed a napkin and silverware in front of him.

  “I’m used to that,” Neal conceded, “but I’m just used to dealing with Mother Nature.” He broke open a packet of Sweet ‘n Low, added some cream, and stirred the concoction. “With this thing we’ve got the city . . . and the politics . . . and partners . . . and delays with simple stuff like digging a ditch.”

  “It ain’t easy to make the big bucks,” Norma said. With her station in life he wasn’t about to get much sympathy.

  “I mean, for gosh sake, we’ve got a black guy on the job that the city is all over and his equipment breaks and my partner can’t stand him and . . .”

  “You’ve got to expect those things,” Norma butted in.

  “Hey, Norma, are you going to get our breakfast on the grille?” Pork Chop yelled from the far end.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. It’s coming.” She gave Neal a wink and scurried away.

  “Not to be demanding, but we don’t have all day,” Fred added.

  Norma reached into the refrigerator and grabbed two pork chops and a steak. “It’ll be right up. Hold on to your horses.”

  The front door opened and Tuey walked in with a smile across his face for the world to see. He stopped, checked out his surroundings, and continued to the counter, plopping his massive body on a stool in the middle. Pork Chop and Fred were on his left and Neal was to his right. “I didn’t know you ate here,” Fred barked.