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

by James Ross

  “You selling the farm didn’t cause ten people to die,” Norma assured the farmer.

  “But it might have contributed to it,” Neal said. He raised the cup of hot coffee to his lips and took a sip.

  “There had to be a lot more to it than that,” Norma said. “It might be somethin’ that we’ll never know.”

  Neal fidgeted with his spoon. He was deep in thought. The fact that he was a survivor in the same room that many had been executed worked on his emotions. “But why me?”

  “What do you mean?” Norma asked.

  “Why was I spared?” Neal answered. He picked up the morning newspaper and stared at the headline.

  “It must not have been your time,” Norma said. “Maybe you were placed there for a different reason.” Neal circled the edge of the cup with his forefinger. “You know . . . maybe to save the others.”

  “There weren’t many more to save,” Neal admitted. “The damage was done. There were only a few more of us left.”

  “What set him off?” Norma asked as if she thought that Neal would have the answer.

  Neal shook his head in frustration. “Who knows?” He paused and frowned. “I know that he was having some trouble with the city.”

  “Heck, you bought him breakfast not too long ago,” Norma continued. The notion that someone could go off in an instant perplexed her. “He seemed like such a happy . . . friendly . . . peaceful guy. He always had a smile on his face.”

  “All I know is that the city was giving him the business. The public works director and ticket cop had been instructed to make life miserable for the guy.” Neal took another sip of coffee. “The mayor accepted their resignations just a few minutes before he came through the door.”

  Norma’s mouth flew open as an ingenious idea popped into her head. “Ooohhhhh,” she sighed. “Then that’s what it was.”

  “What?” Neal asked. Now the tables were turned.

  “Do you know what it’s like to have those city inspectors in here goin’ through your joint?” Norma asked.

  “I just farm,” Neal said. “Dealing with the Department of Natural Resources is enough.”

  Norma’s ire was on the rise. “Well let me tell you about those bastards!” She had a bone to pick about a situation that had occurred at the diner.

  “What happened?” Neal questioned her.

  “Those SOB’s! You know, I’m just a little business person.” She paused to let her words sink in. “Nothin’ but a single woman out there trying to make an honest living for myself.”

  “Aren’t we all,” Neal confided. He shook his head in agreement.

  “That damn inspector came in here and gave me a rash of . . .” Norma said as she stopped short of really telling it like it was. “The hood vent was this . . . and the deep fryer was that . . . and the legs on the equipment had to be exactly three and three quarters inches above the tile so that a mop could get underneath there.” Norma had fire in her eyes. She grabbed a wet towel and wiped it over the counter in circles as the anger mounted.

  “Don’t get so worked up,” Neal urged. Her fury surprised him.

  “I didn’t have the money for all of those silly rules and regulations.” She flung the wet rag against the prep table. “And then when the drywall guy came in to put in some kind of fire retardant product, they made him tear it all out because it was one eighth of an inch too thick.” She stared directly into Neal’s eyes. “And who do you think had to pay for that?”

  “It seems like we’ve gotten so far away from the basics,” Neal said as he motioned for a refill.

  “You’re damn right,” Norma said as she filled his cup to the top. “We pay their salary and they think that it’s their job to make our life miserable.” She continued her rant. “They get their perks and cost of living increases and cushy positions of authority and think that they have the right to close you down.”

  “But it doesn’t give you the right to kill anybody,” Neal said.

  “No,” Norma agreed. “But don’t think that it didn’t cross my mind.” She forced a tight-lipped grin at the irony of the situation. “Their pompous egos got under my skin.”

  Neal shook his head back and forth over and over. “Where have we gone wrong?” He glanced down at his watch. “It’s time to go.”

  “And retire?” Norma pried.

  “It can’t get here soon enough,” Neal admitted. “I’m tired of messing with everything.” He raised himself up from his stool.

  “And after you do that they’ll be something else that comes down the road that will turn your life upside down,” Norma said as she grabbed the money that he had left on the counter.

  Neal thought about what she had said and put his hand to his chin. “Sometimes it’s the wrong ones that pay the price.” He waved and walked out the door.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR

  It was the third day after the incident at city hall. Images of Tuey’s widow, LeVournique, were plastered across the cable news network. She constantly expressed her sorrow, sympathy to the victims’ families, and surprise at what had occurred.

  On Saturday the boys huddled at the back table in the clubhouse. J Dub, Curt, and Julie were behind the counter as every eye was glued to the national newscast. In early March not too many players were expected to come out and play golf.

  Captain Jer approached his favorite bartender. “What’s on tap for you this morning?” Julie asked. “Another cold can of Bud Light?”

  “Nah, I had a pretty rough night,” Captain Jer answered. He took a handkerchief out and blew his nose.

  “With the way you drink I would think that all of them would be pretty rough,” Julie deadpanned.

  Captain Jer gave her a smug grin. “You know what I found out?”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “Once you get all that booze in your system you don’t feel as bad the next day,” Captain Jer rambled.

  “Oh, isn’t that wonderful? Now I get a heavy dose of justification.” Julie rolled her eyes. She wasn’t surprised at much of anything that came out of Captain Jer’s mouth anymore. “That’s kind of a sad commentary, don’t you think? Just imagine the damage that all that stuff does to your kidneys and liver.”

  “Hey! Don’t preach to me. It’s too early in the morning for that holier-than-thou crap.” Captain Jer stopped and stared back at Julie. His piercing blue eyes spilled their wrath on her words. “You hear me and hear me good. I’m not here for a long time. I’m here for a good time!” He roared with laughter, reached across the counter with both hands, and grabbed her forearm. One hand twisted one way while the other hand twisted the opposite.

  “Ouch! What are you doing?” Julie screamed. She pulled her arm out of his grasp.

  “Just teasing you a little,” Captain Jer cavorted. The retired pilot was always out to have a little fun with a susceptible target. “Why don’t you shoot me a Muddy Blary this morning?”

  “A what?”

  “A Muddy Blary.”

  “What the heck is that?”

  “A drunks’ way of ordering a Bloody Mary,” Captain Jer said as he chuckled at himself. Maybe what he had been saying was true. His eyes looked bloodshot. He was acting like a lot of the booze from the day before was still in his system.

  Julie grabbed a glass, filled it with ice, and poured a shot of vodka. After filling the glass with Bloody Mary mix she served Captain Jer. “Can you believe what he did?”

  “Who?” Captain Jer said. He stirred the drink with his finger. “Got any celery?”

  Julie was appalled as she shook her head negatively. The events at city hall were the talk of the town. Funeral arrangements were being made. Nearly everyone that came through the door knew one or two of the victims. “Tuey,” she blurted.

  “Oh,” Captain Jer said nonchalantly. “It doesn’t surprise me.”

  “That Tuey did it?” Julie asked. She handed him a celery stalk.

  “Nah,” Captain Jer said. He took a sip of his drink. “Aaaahhhh, that�
��s tasty.” He smiled at Julie. “No, that something like that can happen.”

  “How can you condone that?” Julie asked.

  “I’m not justifying it,” Captain Jer said. “It doesn’t surprise me that people get slaughtered. It’s the world we live in.” He strolled over to the back booth and joined the rest of the guys.

  “But Tuey?” Julie said. Her voice trailed off. “Who would have ever figured?”

  “I tried to tell him that things weren’t as bad as he imagined,” Elia said. “I’ve seen it all.”

  “It doesn’t surprise me that something like that could happen,” Fred said. “People get ticked off when they lose their livelihood.”

  “But he was working,” Julie said from across the room.

  “The politicians and lawyers were giving him a boatload of grief,” J Dub added.

  “Don’t even bring those idiots into the conversation,” Paul said. His years with the federal government had jaded his opinions. “The problem is that there are no statesmen left in office—people who are above greed and payoffs and dirty politics. The people in office now might as well be animals.”

  “What do you mean?” YouWho asked.

  “Our system is broken,” Paul continued. “There’s too big of a difference between the haves and have-nots. Plus the public servants now are all on the take. They live in a ‘me’ world and want their pockets lined,” Paul explained. “And then there are the lobbyists.” He paused. “Don’t get me started.” The more he said the more he had to say. He wasn’t done. “It costs too much to live right now just to meet basic needs.”

  “Isn’t dat capitalism?” YouWho asked. “You taught dat to us.”

  The guys looked at each other. “Well . . . sure we did,” BT agreed. “But capitalism won’t work if the greedy ones at the top take more than their fair share.”

  “Yeah, they can’t let the middle class starve like they’re doing now,” Pork Chop added. “You know what, happens.” He looked at his buddies. “When desperation sets in, this type of stuff is going to happen more and more.”

  “All too well,” Fred said. “People will start taking the law into their own hands.”

  “And then our society will deteriorate,” Paul said.

  “I know that he didn’t want to have to go through all of the legal challenges and fight for what he thought was rightfully his,” J Dub said.

  “Like what?” Paco asked while opening a pack of crackers and remembering his own difficulties.

  “For his freedom to make an honest living,” J Dub answered.

  “I still can’t believe that he did what he did,” Julie reiterated.

  “I guess that he had enough,” Paco suggested.

  “And who’s to say that some of them didn’t have it coming,” Captain Jer said as he finished his Bloody Mary.

  “Jerry!” Julie shouted. “Those people didn’t deserve to be executed like that.”

  Captain Jer backpedaled a little. “Well . . . uh . . . I didn’t mean it like that.” He looked at Julie. “You know what I meant. I’m sure they all weren’t lily-white and something nasty was going on behind the scenes.”

  “But that doesn’t give you the right to take out a gun and have a shootout like the Wild West,” Julie said.

  “When people start starving, then that’s what you’re going to get,” Paul added.

  “Can you imagine what those people had to go through? I wonder what it was like being there,” Julie said.

  “Why don’t you ask Scottie P,” Elia said. “He was there.”

  Julie turned to Alpha Bear’s partner. “It happened so fast,” Scottie P offered. “The meeting started, two city workers resigned, and the next thing you knew Tuey barged through the door shooting at every council member there.”

  “What did you do?” Julie asked.

  “We hit the deck and tried to cover up. It was total chaos. He was berserk,” Scottie P added. “The gun jammed and one of the guys jumped on him.” Downplaying his role he continued. “Then they pushed me on top of him.”

  “I’ll tell you what,” Dr. DV offered up. Everyone in the room turned to hear what words of wisdom the quiet but highly respected veterinarian had to say. “I noticed something coming on with him a few months ago.”

  “What was that?” Julie pried.

  “Did you notice how he was having difficulty breathing?”

  Julie nodded her head. “I just thought that he was a little out of shape.”

  “But his throat twitched and he had a disoriented look a lot more lately,” Dr. DV continued.

  “I thought it was because he was preoccupied with all the stuff that was going on outside of the job here,” Curt said.

  “Maybe so,” Dr. DV said. “But his mouth was always dry and he had a white discharge at the corners of his mouth.” He paused to have his words sink in. “Did you guys notice that?”

  “Yeah, a little I guess,” Julie admitted.

  “I think that something was wrong with him . . . like he was sick or something,” the veterinarian hypothesized.

  “He had to be sick to do what he did,” Julie said.

  “What do you think was going on with him?” Fred asked.

  A hush fell over the clubhouse. The vet’s experience was vast. “I think that he was rabid and starting to hallucinate,” Dr. DV said.

  The statement was so far out in left field that it stunned them all. “You think that he had rabies?” Julie blurted.

  Dr. DV was serious. He folded his arms across his chest and slowly looked around the room at them. “Rabies is a unique disease. It attacks the salivary glands and is spread through the body’s nervous system as opposed to the bloodstream. People with it have difficulty swallowing as well as spasms in and around the throat.”

  Everyone in the room listened intently.

  “The salivary glands in a rabid person will attempt to produce extra saliva. That can accumulate at the corners of the mouth and give the foaming appearance. That’s why rabid animals froth like they do. I noticed that about Tuey.”

  “Does rabies affect a person’s mind?” Julie asked.

  “The best that we know,” Dr. DV continued. “Paranoia, disorientation, headache, fatigue, loss of appetite and fever are all associated. It looked to me like Tuey was experiencing many of these symptoms.”

  “How could he have contracted it?” J Dub asked.

  “A variety of ways,” Dr. DV explained, “but most likely an animal bite.”

  “From what animal?” Julie asked.

  “Maybe a cat or a bat. Perhaps a fox. It could have been a skunk, but I imagine he would have been sprayed first if that was the case. It could have come from a raccoon. It’s hard to say, but any one of them could have been a carrier.”

  “If a skunk got him, then maybe that’s why he stunk so bad,” Captain Jer said.

  “Come on Jer. Knock it off,” Julie followed.

  “It had to come from that cave,” Curt said.

  “If that was where he had been hanging out then that’s a likely source,” Dr. DV admitted.

  “You know,” J Dub said, “he had a bandaged finger for several days this winter.”

  “Did he tell you how that happened?” Julie pried.

  “I assumed that he hurt it on the job,” Curt answered.

  Captain Jer slammed down the rest of his Bloody Mary. “Yeah . . . feeding the animals.”

  All of the guys chuckled. They all had heard Tuey’s tales about the animals that he had met in the cave. Pork Chop remembered the morning in the diner. “And not de-boning carp. Come on, let’s go out and hit ’em,” he offered.

  The guys got up and headed out the door. As they were loading their bags onto the golf carts, J Dub noticed that Captain Jer had taken something strange out of his bag and placed it in Paco’s. “What was that you put in Paco’s bag?” the head pro asked.

  Captain Jer was caught off guard. He thought that what he had done had gone undetected. “Oh, it was nothing.”


  J Dub scratched his head. There was something odd about what he had seen. “No, it wasn’t. What was that you put in there?” J Dub went to Paco’s golf bag, unzipped a pouch, and pulled out two cans of Vienna sausages.

  “I was just replacing what I had borrowed,” Captain Jer said.

  J Dub remembered the incident that had happened months earlier and he was well aware of Captain Jer’s penchant for pulling a person’s leg. “Practical jokes are practical jokes, Jer. If you hadn’t have taken them when you did, maybe this town wouldn’t be in the situation that it’s in today.”

  # # #

  Shari’s Shot

  James Ross

  Copyright © 2015 by James Ross.

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2014922329

  ISBN: Hardcover 978-1-5035-2689-1

  Softcover 978-1-5035-2691-4

  eBook 978-1-5035-2690-7

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, locales is entirely coincidental.

  Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

  Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

  Rev. date: 01/06/2015

  To order additional copies of this book, contact:

  Xlibris Corporation

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  697793

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve