by C. L. Bevill
The questions trickled away as everyone gradually became aware of Bubba standing in the hallway. “Hey,” Queen Vajayjay said, “don’t he always find bodies?” He plainly referred to Bubba, but the tall woman in the bits of leather that Bubba thought were meant to be clothing pointed at him to emphasize the point of her question.
Bubba winced as about a dozen pairs of eyes turned in his direction.
Precious perked up her head from a plate full of diced chicken and whined loudly. There was a choice between food and protecting her master, and the two options were running neck and neck.
“That’s right,” Lucy Lips said. “He’s a dead body magnet. My ma says that he’s cursed.”
That ain’t true, Bubba denied in his head.
“He’s only been here for ten minutes,” Chef Leslie said. He tossed chicken wings in buffalo sauce. It didn’t seem like a dead body bothered him overly or his cooking process for that matter. “I didn’t hear anything.”
“Bam Bam was shot,” Destiny interjected. “I’ve seen bullet holes like that on Law & Order.”
“Maybe that was Dexter,” Diamond said.
“Whatever,” Destiny said. “Definitely a bullet hole.”
“He must have used a silencer,” Tomi Knockers said. That was the first time Bubba had heard her. She had long red hair and breasts the size of basketballs, which made Bubba look at the ceiling. He was probably going to be looking at the ceiling a lot on this particular day. “We should search him.”
Bubba looked down. He had a form fitting t-shirt on which was a XXL and said “Support Your Local Mechanic!” He also had on Levi’s and his second best pair of boots. He hadn’t worn his Stetson because it hadn’t felt like a Stetson kind of day. In any case, there wasn’t anything to search. It wasn’t like he was going to have a gun concealed anywhere. He turned to show them that there wasn’t a handgun tucked in the back of his waist.
“Bubba didn’t have a gun when he came in,” Kiki said. She tossed a swathe of blonde dreadlocks over her shoulder, clearly to emphasize her point. (Bubba needed to remember Kiki at Christmas.)
That got several people to thinking.
“He didn’t use his own gun,” Granny Goodbang said. She might have had silvery-gray hair and square glasses perched on her nose, but the rest of her appeared no older than thirty. Furthermore, the silky black thing she wore showed that her girlish figure really was girlish. “He used Bam Bam’s gun.”
“Bam Bam’s got a gun?” Chastity Angel asked.
“Bam Bam’s got a gun with a silencer?” Alotta Fagina put in. “I think I saw him with a Swiss Army knife once. You know, the cute little ones that have the cross on it. It was blue, not red. I should put one of those on my key rings.”
The one Kiki had introduced as Gummi Worm placed her arms over her chest and glared at Bubba. “We should tie him up,” she said firmly. “He might run off.”
“But I ain’t et yet,” Bubba said, unable to help himself. Where was he going to run off to? Bolivia? McMurdo Station? Easter Island? Why, the possibilities were limitless, but then he’d have to leave Willodean and the baby, and that just wasn’t done. No running off.
“Bubba just isn’t that type,” said Snuggles Palomino. She had a very deep voice for a woman. She shook her long strawberry-colored hair, and Bubba realized that it was a wig the very color of a ripe strawberry. Everyone seemed to ignore her.
“Just let the po-lice sort it out,” Pop Tart Smith suggested. “They can do things to him like hook up electrical leads to his testicles while they give him a lie detector test. Ain’t no one goin’ to lie on that test.”
Bubba resisted the urge to cover up his nether regions. “They don’t do that,” he said. “I’ve bin in enough times to know that. The worst thing that happens is that Big Joe plays Jim Nabors albums until you plead guilty.” There were other things that Big Joe, the Pegramville Chief of Police, did too, such as questioning suspects at length, preferably with a rubber hose and bright lights pointed in their faces. Then he wanted to get really serious. He often served bad coffee to detainees; typically it was a generic blend that tasted like a cat had peed in it hours before allowing it to burn on an open fire made with dehydrated cow patties. Finally and most importantly, he often threatened to bring their mothers in to speak to them. Surprisingly the latter worked in a significant amount of cases. Of course, one had to realize that Big Joe wouldn’t be arresting Bubba on account that Bazooka Bob’s was outside city limits.
What that really meant was that Bazooka Bob’s was in Pegram County within the jurisdiction of the Pegram County Sheriff’s Department and that Bubba’s beauteous wife, the sheriff’s deputy, Willodean Gray Snoddy, might appear in response to any call from the gentlemen’s club.
Precious whined again as if she was reading her master’s mind.
Truly Bubba didn’t know whether he should fish or cut bait. He couldn’t just leave. He couldn’t just stay. He looked at Leslie who was finishing up the meal he’d prepared for him. “That food about ready?”
“Yep,” Leslie said. “Make you happier than a woodpecker in a lumberyard.”
Bubba looked at all of the women in the room. “Does anyone know why someone would shoot Bam Bam?”
The enormity finally hit Pop Tart Smith because she began to wail loudly. Queen Vajayjay shushed her with a, “You’re goin’ to ruin your makeup, girly girl.” But then Gummi Worm started in with the crying.
“I’m going to miss him!” Gummi howled. She dropped to her knees and cried.
Leslie finished plating Bubba’s meal and passed it through the window. He also passed through a box of tissues just as Alotta Fagina and Lucy Lips began to cry on each other’s shoulders. “I’m going to miss Bam Bam,” Lucy moaned. “He was like the brothers I have already who aren’t really brothers because they’re douche-hamsters.”
“There, there,” Alotta said soothingly, patting Lucy’s back with the palm of her hand because her fire truck-red fingernails were two inches long which generally impaired the use of her hands.
Bubba plucked an armadillo egg from the plate and popped it into his mouth. Just as he swallowed it, he felt Precious nudge his leg. Evidently, the canine wasn’t certain what was happening as all the human females began to make odd noises.
Bubba almost felt like moaning himself. The armadillo egg was that good. Just as he swallowed, someone asked loudly, “What in aitch-eee-double-ell is going on here? It’s like a banshee met a cat and got all upset!”
Bubba turned, and the armadillo egg stuck in his throat. Bam Bam stood behind him dressed in a Cowboys jersey, black leather leggings, and purple boots, alive and well, with not even a scratch to indicate where a bullet hole had been.
Fortunately for Bubba, Bam Bam was still very much alive because it was he who gave Bubba the Heimlich maneuver when he couldn’t expel the half-chewed armadillo egg from his throat.
Chapter 4
Bubba and the Undead Body
Tuesday, August 22nd
Bubba recovered while Bam Bam Jones made what sounded like lame excuses to the occupants of the kitchen of Bazooka Bob’s. Bam Bam’s hands twitched and contorted as he spoke because that was the way that he always did it. He snapped, waved, and fingers wiggled as he spoke rapidly, “Jus’ a joke on my BFF here, Bubba. You know how a redneck be always findin’ bodies, yo. Sorry girls, I ain’t be thinking what the rest of you might be thinking and all. So you kin go back to work, yo. Meeting everyone in fifteen minutes, aw-right?”
Chef Leslie shoved a glass of sweet tea at Bubba because it probably appeared as though he was going to start choking again. Bubba took a long drink, since it felt like half an armadillo egg was still lodged in his esophagus.
That was what Bubba got for being nice, and also for starving himself. He leaned against a steel counter and drank some more sweet tea while Bam Bam continued to speak quickly and in what Bubba thought was a very suspicious manner.
“All them bodies he found,” Bam Bam
said, “I kin see now it ain’t funny and I be sorry. Sorry Bubba. Not funny at all.”
Some of the exotic dancers appeared decidedly unhappy.
“That is the worst kind of joke,” Destiny said. “I’ve half a mind to quit right now.”
“If she quits, I quit,” Diamond put in.
“I’m sorry,” Bam Bam said again. “Won’t happen again.” Bubba noticed that Bam Bam crossed his index and middle fingers of his right hand and hid them behind his back where none of the women or the chef could see. “I swear on my mama’s grave.”
There was some more muttering as several women departed into what Bubba thought was the backstage area. Leslie went back to doing whatever it was that chefs did when they thought no one was looking.
“How did Bam Bam change so fast?” Lucy lips demanded of Alotta Fagina, who shrugged as they went through a door opposite the one Bubba had entered. “He was in the Cowboys jersey and then he was in a suit and now he’s back in the Cowboys jersey.”
“There was a bullet hole,” Destiny, or was it Diamond, insisted. “I know a bullet hole when I see it.” The twins followed Lucy and Alotta. Kiki shook her head at both Bam Bam and Bubba before she disappeared through the same door. It swung shut, and it was then that Bubba could hear music from the front of Bazooka Bob’s. Unmistakably, Cayenne Pepper was performing her act with the twirling lemons to the strains of “Let Me Squeeze Your Lemon” by Charlie Pickett. Bubba was never going to be able to listen to Charlie again without thinking of Bazooka Bob’s.
The other women trickled out with varying looks of shock on their faces.
Finally, it was only Bam Bam, Leslie, Precious, and Bubba. Bubba had finally managed to breathe regularly, but his stomach was still protesting that it hadn’t really gotten any armadillo egg. He took another egg and took a bite, taking the time to chew properly.
Bam Bam watched for a moment and then said, “Looky, looky, here’s that pretty princess of all canines. She be the baddest pup in all of Texas. Baby, if I was a stoplight, I’d turn red every time you went by so I could look at you longer.”
Precious peeked up at Bam Bam and evidently decided that he was properly appreciative. She woofed softly and then padded back over to the offering of cut-up chicken breasts.
“Need to take the dog out of the kitchen, Bam Bam,” Leslie said amicably. “County health inspector will go as screwy as a football bat ifin he catches us.”
Bam Bam shrugged. “Ain’t no never mind now, no how. Come on, Bubba. Bring your plate. We be talking in my office.”
“Your office,” Bubba repeated.
“Yeah. I done bought Bazooka Bob’s about a month before your wedding. Dint you know?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I be wheeling and dealing and making all my money go a long way. You know I got a quarter percentage point on that movie, right? I made a goodly amount, and I had to do something with it. Cain’t be spending it on Ferraris and beach condos, you know.” Bam Bam had been influential in persuading a movie to be filmed in Pegram County, whereupon hijinks had ensued, as hijinks are prone to do. It had been Bubba’s one and only time acting as a zombie, which hadn’t been as difficult as one supposed it might be.
Bubba followed Bam Bam into the same hallway as the bathrooms and watched as Bam Bam stuck a finger in front of his lips at Bubba. “Echoes, my brotha,” he muttered, “and little pitchers in itty-bitty straps they call dresses.” Then Bam Bam locked the gentlemen’s bathroom with a ring of keys he pulled from the pocket of his leggings.
Precious had picked up a chunk of chicken and followed them, pausing to sniff at the closed bathroom door with a decidedly suspicious look of doubt that any dog owner would recognize.
Yeah, that body wasn’t my imagination, Bubba thought. He stuffed another armadillo egg in his mouth and remembered to chew thoroughly again. He didn’t want to be known as the man who’d choked to death on a stuffed jalapeño pepper in an exotic dance club. He would be forever known as that hot pepper guy. Willodean would be known as the wife of the hot pepper guy. He’d get some kind of honorary mention in the Darwin Awards, and the infamy would cause the county to be known as that place where the hot pepper guy choked to death on a spicy jalapeño. Willodean would probably have to change her name as well as the baby’s name, and move to a country that didn’t have the Internet or peppers. Even Bubba’s mother, Miz Demetrice, would have move to Barrow, Alaska and join Brownie Snoddy’s former scout leader, Marlon Tarterhouse, in exile. (Brownie was Bubba’s second cousin or possibly his cousin once removed, and there were many people who had resolutely resolved to move as far away as possible from the pugnacious pre-teen.) There she would only have people who liked to live off the grid to micromanage, and she might have to take to drinking two gin and tonics per day instead of one. It would be ugly all the way around.
Bubba sighed and followed Bam Bam into a door further down the hallway. The exterior said “Boss” and “Bob.” Someone had crossed through Bob’s name with a black Sharpie and handwritten “Bam Bam” just underneath it. Bam Bam motioned Bubba in, looking out in the hallway in a way that appeared that he didn’t want to talk to anyone else. He ushered Precious inside with spasmodic hand gestures. Then, he shut the door and locked it. Finally, he turned and collapsed against the door. “That be…,” he said and trailed off. He started again, “That be the…”
“That be bad?” Bubba supplied. He plucked a wing up off his plate and swirled it in the ranch dressing that Leslie had supplied. He inelegantly put the whole wing in his mouth and used his teeth to strip it as he pulled the bones out. Bubba knew he was being less than gentlemanly in a gentlemen’s club, but he was so hungry that his stomach thought his throat had been cut.
Bam Bam sighed heavily. “I never knew managing a business could be so difficult.” He stalked to the large desk, threw himself into the chair, and took a bottle of alcohol out of a drawer. He also withdrew two shot glasses and poured the alcohol into both. Bam Bam studied the mahogany-colored liquid and said, “This is a scotch that’s aged in sherry casks. It ain’t cheap. That director’s wife gave me a bottle of it, and you know I got a taste for it. This is the third one I’ve bought. I have a shot every week, and that’s it. It’s like a treat for me. I get it when I’m good, and brotha, most of the time I’m good.”
Bubba happened to notice that Bam Bam was no longer gesticulating and bopping his head to what he was saying. Also, he wasn’t speaking the way that Bubba was used to hearing Bam Bam speak. Instead, he was oddly still and oddly articulate as he stared at the alcohol in the glass. “This is my third shot today,” he said with both his hands planted palm down on the desk. “Fourth if you don’t want the other one.”
“This be bad is just the tip of the iceberg,” Bubba said. He sat in the chair next to the desk and put his plate and sweet tea on the desk. He snagged another wing and swirled it in the dressing. “Dang good wings,” he said after inhaling the meat. He prayed he wouldn’t choke again, but he couldn’t help himself.
Precious whined hopefully. She’d eaten all of her bounty and was hoping for a little more from the area of Bubba’s plate.
“Leslie’s a good chef,” Bam Bam said. “I know folks who come for the buffet. Sometimes we do a seafood one. Sometimes a barbeque one. I think Leslie’s doing chicken wing delight today. He’s got ten different flavors going on from mild parmesan to douse-my-mouth-with-a-waterfall. It’s a strip joint, but we eat good here.”
Bubba ate another wing and then wiped his fingers with a napkin that Bam Bam provided. Bubba’s stomach started to settle down. He knew he was going to have explain things to Willodean and all. He was probably going to have to explain things to Miz Demetrice, too. He might even need to explain things to his in-laws who would probably hear about it all the way up in Dallas where they all lived. However, with something in his stomach he could think logically again.
Bam Bam continued to stare at the scotch. Finally he asked, “Ain’t you going to ask me about him, Bubba?”
> “You sent that woman, Cayenne Pepper, out in your car to wait for me,” Bubba stated.
“Yeah. Everyone knows about the Cedarblooms,” Bam Bam said. “Lloyd Goshorn was in here three times last week talking about Charlene and how she’s on death’s door.” Lloyd was the town’s handyman. Bubba wasn’t very happy about him of late, since he was indirectly responsible for almost ruining his wedding, but since they hadn’t run into each other for months, Bubba could almost let it go. Almost. “And them girls love to talk about your wedding. Pegram County hasn’t talked about anything else since. Plus you’ve bin driving past Bazooka Bob’s at least once a day for the last two weeks. No one else has an antique, green Chevy truck like yours. It’s the Bubbamobile.”
“Why couldn’t you just call me?” Bubba asked, but he suspected that he already knew the answer.
“I dial your digits,” Bam Bam said, indicating a phone shape with the index and thumb of his right hand and placing it close to his ear. “Oh, hey Bubba, I gotta a dead guy here at Bazooka Bob’s, and can you come and he’p me out?”
Bubba’s eyes threatened to cross. Wasn’t that exactly what a friend was supposed to do? And furthermore, what would Bubba have said? “Oh hell no! No more dead bodies,” he muttered. Yes, that was exactly what he would have said. Then he would have fled for the hills, taking his wife and his dog with him.
“Exactly,” Bam Bam exclaimed. “So a little subterfuge was in order. You come in, you find the body, and voila, you do your thing. It’s all chop chop, lollipop.”
Bubba snagged another wing and was dismayed to discover that he only had two left. That wasn’t a manly serving, and moreover, his ranch dressing was nearly gone. He supposed he could ask for another plate, but that wouldn’t sound like he was very sympathetic about having a dead body in the bathroom. “What ifin I dint go to the bathroom?”