by James Ross
“It’s squirrels. I’ve got them at home.” Doc lived out in the country in a home surrounded by trees.
“Those little boogers get everywhere. I can’t stand how they tear the place up.”
“They will gnaw through a wire cage if you leave them in one long enough. I’ve got a way to get rid of them.”
“How is that?”
“I’ve got two traps. We’ll catch them and dispose of them.” Doc got up from his seat. “Let’s go take a look.”
Pabby jumped up too. He and Doc and J Dub had bonded well over the weeks. The trio walked outside. They walked around the perimeter of the converted home with their heads craned upward. “There it is,” J Dub said as he pointed to a section of louvers at the peak of the roof. One of the slats was rotten. “In fact…”
“Did you see that?” Doc interrupted.
“What?”
“One of them darted across the roof and disappeared right in the hole.”
“How did I miss it?”
“If you turned away for a second it was over. That’s how quick that guy scampered in there.”
“No, no, no! Get it away!” Pabby bolted several feet to stand behind Doc. He was shaking badly.
“What is it?”
The teen pointed to the hedge that surrounded the clubhouse. “Over there!”
J Dub spread some foliage and poked his head around. “Here?”
“Yeah! Right there.”
The head pro brushed some leaves back. “What was it?” Before waiting for an answer he moved some other limbs in the bush. “There it is.” He examined the find. “Pabby, that’s just a nest of baby rabbits.”
“Keep them away! Don’t let them come over here!”
Doc laughed. “They aren’t going to hurt you.”
“I don’t care. Keep them away!”
J Dub retreated back to the pair. “All is well. I thought that we had an anaconda or something in there.”
“The anaconda is a large, non-venomous boa that is found in South America. It is a huge snake that crushes its prey by constricting. They can grow to over seventeen feet in length and weigh close to one hundred pounds. It can be found in the Amazon River basin.”
“Okay. We get it, Pabby. Relax,” J Dub said.
“It wasn’t an anaconda, just a nest of rabbits,” Doc added.
“The rabbit is a small mammal found in many parts of the world. The male is called a buck and… .”
“Pabby! Let’s go inside.” Doc turned to J Dub. “I’ll bring two traps out tomorrow and we’ll start catching the squirrels. In the meantime it wouldn’t hurt to board up that hole.” The trio headed for the front door. “Now Pabby, what do you say we go to the track in the next day or two?”
“Yeah. I want to do that again.”
“Roll your sleeves up and find us some more horses that you like.”
CHAPTER 42
The building that housed Footprints of Hope was unique in that it was an older, two-story frame home that was covered with white siding. After renovations had been completed the girls got to stay on the upper floor of the original house and the boys occupied a separate wing that had been attached to one side of the home. A smaller white detached bungalow had been built for the director of the foster home. It was connected to the main home by a covered breezeway. When Pamela Porter stayed on the property she resided in the tiny efficiency cottage.
The independent living center had a kitchen, dining hall and study area. The game room was a popular spot. Two electronic video games, a ping pong table, bumper pool table, foosball table and color television were located in that area. Only eight children at a time could occupy that part of the property and they were limited to one hour sessions. Those privileges were awarded for good behavior and grades.
Meals were served under a strict schedule. Breakfast was served from 6:30 to 7:30 a.m. Lunch hour went from 11:15 to 12:15. Dinner was served at 5:30 p.m. An older black lady named Delronda was responsible for preparing breakfast, lunch and dinner six days a week. Her kitchen assistant was a younger, thinner black man named July. Sunday meals were catered in by Marcia Schroeder, J Dub’s wife, a pizzeria or a local church group.
A fenced area was the only spot where the kids were allowed to play outside. It was larger enough for them to get adequate exercise by playing soccer, softball, volleyball or kickball. The newer generation eschewed physical exercise for food and computer games.
At Footprints of Hope roughly half of the children were white, a third of them were black and the rest were minority children from Asia or south of the border. Two-thirds were male and one-third female. All of the kids held out hope that they would one day be adopted. As the years ticked by the harsh reality that no one wanted them smacked them straight in the face which caused emotional problems for many.
A hired security guard was always on the premises from nine at night to seven in the morning. Two young men were always employed to man those hours and the turnover was often. Aieshia was the special needs instructor that lived in an efficiency unit upstairs. Carla commuted each day to work. A handful of other teachers drove in on Monday through Friday to teach. The center had an area on the rear of the facility that consisted of four classrooms. In an effort to provide the best educational environment, classes consisted of no more than eight students.
Aieshia turned the van onto the long driveway. The kids were dozing in the back. She pulled the van around the circle driveway, under the awning and parked in a lot off to the side. Farley Bend was on site. His utility van with the lettering ‘Got Fix-it Problems? Check ’round da Bend’ stenciled on the side was also in the small lot next to the director’s home. Aieshia woke the kids. They stretched their arms and all made their way through the front door just in time for dinner.
“Better watch out for Mrs. P,” a voice warned Pabby and Shae after they entered the home. Skip Watkins had become good friends with Pabby over the last couple of years after he was orphaned at age eleven. His parents were involved in a fatal auto crash and no next of kin were around to help raise him. A streak of mischief ran through him and he found Pabby a gullible partner in crime. “She’s on the warpath.”
Pabby bowed his head and extended a stiff right arm with a clutched fist. Skip tapped it feeling as if he let the pair in on some top secret stuff. “What’s for dinner?”
“Shepherd’s pie.”
“Ick.”
“With peas.”
“I hate peas.”
“About the only thing they’re good for is loading the spoon up and firing them across the room.”
Pabby giggled. He liked the way Skip thought. “Why is she mad?”
Skip raised his chin and tilted his head upward at an angle to look uppity. “We weren’t acting appropriate today.”
“So we miss pizza night.”
“Yep.” Skip turned serious. “Here she comes.”
The unmistakable shrill caused the kids to wince. “Did you boys not see the notice?”
“What notice?” Skip asked.
“Men are to eat dinner in a long sleeved white shirt with tie.” If the voice wasn’t sickening enough the thought of wearing a tie to eat was.
“Why?” Skip questioned.
“Don’t argue young man.” The pair rolled their eyes. “And Shae, young women are expected to wear a skirt and blouse.” The trio knew that it was fruitless to put up a fight. They headed for their rooms. “Pabby, I need to talk to you privately.”
“What?”
Mrs. P stepped across the entrance foyer and entered the parlor. A small fireplace, hearth, love seat and book shelf occupied the area. The twosome was far enough away from eavesdroppers. “Do you want to tell me what this is about?”
“What?”
The director produced an invoice. “There is a pay-for-view charge on this bill from the cable company.”
Pabby rested his upper teeth on his lower lip. He stared at the ground. His eyes searched for an answer. “I don’t know.”
“Yes you do.” The tone was demanding.
Pabby eyes stayed fixed on the floor. He cocked his head in the opposite direction. His hands were fidgety. “When was it?”
“I checked the date and time. It was when you had the television room reserved.”
“Oh.” Pabby’s eyes never left sight of the floor.
“You know what the policy is.”
Pabby nodded. “But it wasn’t my fault.”
“It doesn’t make any difference.” The high-pitched voice pecked away like a woodpecker pounding on a tree. “You’re responsible.”
“For what?”
“The extra charges. They occurred when you had the room signed out in your name.”
“But it wasn’t me,” Pabby pleaded. “Skip.” He caught himself.
“What did Skip do?”
“He grabbed the remote.”
“To watch what?” Mrs. P wanted a good answer. “Was it to watch dirty movies?” Pabby stared at the floor. “You know I put parental controls on the remote.”
“It was Skip’s idea. I wanted to watch something else.”
“You signed up for the room. You can pick the friends you want to join you,” she scolded. “Now you have to pay the price.” She studied his reaction. “Maybe you have to reconsider some of your relationships.”
“I like Skip.”
“He takes advantage of you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You’re free to think as you want. But one of these days your decisions will get you in more trouble.” She examined the charges. “We have to pay extra money.”
“But we didn’t watch anything.”
“You were on there long enough to cause charges. Your privileges will be revoked for 48 hours.”
“No!”
“Yes. Starting tomorrow.” Mrs. P turned to leave. Pabby furrowed his brow and stomped his foot on the floor.
CHAPTER 43
The cottage at Footprints of Hope was a short walk away from the back door. Pamela stayed there a few nights a week depending on the occasion. After leaving Pabby she made the short trek to her home away from home.
It was not uncommon to see Farley Bend’s truck in the parking lot. He was a known face around the property. Repairs and fix-it items always needed attention. His handyman services usually did not conflict with his job as the night supervisor at the sewage treatment plant which was a short distance away. That facility was near the levee that paralleled the Mississippi. A distinct stench often drifted from the treatment plant and enveloped the river bottom property. It may have been one of the reasons that the land became available for Footprints of Hope.
“It’s nauseating today,” Pamela complained as she entered her cabin. She flicked her hand across the front of her face. Farley had kicked his boots off and had his feet propped on the glass coffee table. Her complaint went in one ear while the other ear concentrated on the news report on local television.
She slipped out of her heels and headed immediately into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of Chablis. A pass-through area above the counter allowed her to peer into the living area while she poured the white wine. “Can’t you do something about that?”
Farley had heard the bitching before. He offered a mild conciliatory comment but kept his concentration on the newscast.
“What?” she responded as his voice was inaudible. “Don’t I matter to you anymore?”
Farley raised his hand to signal for her to stop. What the newscaster was saying at the time was more important. Pam took a healthy swig. She gave him a nasty look. A deep sigh followed as she exited the kitchen, walked behind the couch and hastened her way to the single bedroom.
Pam never wore panties. She let the sheath slip from her body and quickly deposited her panty hose in a pile on the floor. After a hurried trip to pee she slipped into a pair of jeans and threw on a blouse careful to leave the top buttons unbuttoned. By the time she returned to the living area her wine glass needed topping off. She glanced at the television just as the news was going to commercial. “I can’t imagine what can be so important about the news.”
“We lost a guy today.”
“What do you mean you lost a guy?”
“A ditch caved in,” Farley lamented. His duties crossed over. Not only did he know the guy that was trapped but as an alderman he felt responsible. “We couldn’t dig him out in time.”
Pam poured another glass of wine. “I can’t believe you!”
Farley was dumbfounded. “What?”
“You’re so rude and inconsiderate!”
“How?”
“You missed my birthday!” She took another sip. “No card. No flowers. No dinner. No romance.”
Farley had a look of disbelief. A friend had died a few hours earlier and instead of having a few minutes to mourn he was in a nine hundred square foot cage with a pit bull. “What’s the correlation?”
“That’s what a woman expects!”
“No, I’m talking about a buddy of mine dying not your birthday?”
“Oh forget it! Men don’t understand anything!”
“Huh?” Farley had heard the outbursts before but most of the time he quickly put them in the past. The situation was too good. He wasn’t getting laid at home. In fact his wife often complained about sex being uncomfortable. As night supervisor he could easily sneak away, leave the plant unattended for a while and have a rendezvous that was hot as hell. If there was anyone that could rev the heartbeats up a few notches it was Pammy Poo as he affectionately whispered in her ear during those passionate moments. She was insatiable. And talented.
Pam reached for a bucket, placed the bottle in it and filled the container with ice. She walked to her desk. It was to the side of the television and a few feet from the couch. “We need to be told how much we mean to you. How much we’re wanted. How you can’t live without us.”
“That’s why you have a husband,” Farley blurted. “That’s his role in our fling.”
“Our fling! Is that what you call it?” Pam was infuriated. Their relationship had passed the six-year mark. She turned on her computer and placed the bucket and glass on the desktop. “Ha! He can’t get it up. Even the pills don’t work. I haven’t had sex with him in forever!” She moved to the couch and snuggled up to Farley’s side. “Why do you think I keep you around?” Pam grabbed his crotch and laughed out loud.
Farley grinned. “I was hoping you would get by all the flowers and candy and candles.” She hauled off and slapped him.
“Screw you!”
“Ow! You mother f—,” he caught himself. “What was that all about?”
Pam had gotten up and repositioned herself in front of her computer. “I’m changing the rules.”
“I didn’t know that we had any rules.”
“The rules are that I make them or you don’t get any.” Farley thought it might be wise to play stupid. “Any what?”
Pam smiled. She opened a website on the computer. Then she cocked her head seductively to the side and looked out the corner of her eye. “What you love, Baby.” She spread her legs suggestively and rubbed her inner thigh. “Now come here.”
One of the mysteries of the universe was how Farley could be aroused by the high-pitched shrill that escaped her mouth. He often admired the judge for insisting on separate living quarters. His decision had been made years before. The sex was good and the body was in tip top shape. He could overlook the obnoxious voice otherwise he would have told her to kiss off years earlier. Pammy Poo knew just how to keep the excitement in the whatever-they-had. He slithered up behind her, looked over her shoulder and gently massaged her neck. “What?”
Pam let her neck fall forward. She thoroughly enjoyed the pressure that his strong hands provided. If there was anything that raised her desire it was the power and force of his grip, shoulders and chest. She let out a sigh and then took a deep breath. Next she rolled her shoulders signaling for more. She let her triceps mo
ve back against his crotch. Then she playfully wriggled her torso from side to side. “I found this site.”
Farley leaned forward. “What site?”
“Just4Lust.com.”
“Huh?”
“I’ve decided that we’re going to branch out a little and bring some more excitement into the bedroom.” She filled out the ID box and typed in a password. “I’ve already paid for three accounts.”
“What are you talking about?”
“One for you. One for me.” She paused to let the words sink in. “And one for both of us.”
“I don’t get it.”
Pam smiled. “You will.” She typed on the keyboard. A profile appeared. In the top left was 1WILDCOUGAR in bold letters. Underneath was a picture of a sleek torso in various forms of undress. “This is mine.”
“What are you doing?”
An allusive grin followed. Her fingers stroked the keys. A separate page popped up. In the top left corner was PUMPINAWAY. A picture of abdominal muscles flashed in the jpeg slot. “This is yours.”
“Where did you get that?”
“You were sleeping.” Pam grinned. More keystrokes followed. Another page opened. At the top it read DISCRETE_ DUO. “This is ours.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Oh come on! As experienced as you are in bed and you don’t get it?” Pam opened another box. “Spare me.” She typed some more. “I’m going to search for other lovers and you are too.” She got no reaction. “This profile is our couple’s site. If we find someone then it’s full swap.”
“What the hell are you into?”
“Sex,” Pam said nonchalantly. “I’m not getting younger and I want to have some fun.”
“I don’t know about…”
“You’re free to find whatever woman you would like.”
Farley shook his head reluctantly. “That’s not where my…”
“Don’t give me that crap. Every man likes to have something different. We’re no different.” Pam finished off her glass of wine. She nuzzled up to his neck. “I want to experience the thrill of two guys at once.” She nibbled on him. “If you find a girl then we can invite her into our bedroom too.”