Possum Surprise

by Robert Tacoma

  Taco Bob took the pearl and let Pedro have a look. When Pedro finished a quick inspection with his jeweler’s eyepiece, he gave Buck a smile that the cattle rancher didn’t like at all. Taco Bob held up the money and pearl and repeated the terms of the bet to the now hushed and attentive crowd.

  Someone put a stool in front of Skunk, who then stepped up so everyone could get a better look. He held his hands over his head and turned completely around once, holding the cigarette in one hand and a lighter in the other.

  Buck saw it then, but it wasn’t too late.

  “Hold on there!” He motioned to one of his cowboys. “Give me a cigarette!” The cattle rancher traded cigarettes with Skunk, who had stopped grinning. Buck wondered how many years of digging up anthills it was going to take the little shit to pay Pedro back. “Okay, smart guy, let’s see it now.”

  Skunk looked worried, and now Buck was the one grinning.

  The little man held up the cigarette and lighter, turned slowly once again, and fired up the lighter. You could’ve heard a pin drop as Skunk put the filter end in his mouth and slowly, carefully, brought the lighter closer. Buck watched in horror as Skunk put the flame to the side of the cigarette – not the end – and inhaled deeply.

  Three puffs of smoke floated up. Skunk took the cigarette from his mouth and held it up so Buck and everyone else could see the cigarette was indeed still the same length. The crowd went crazy, cheering and laughing. Buck made a lunge for the grinning little man, but Skunk sidestepped him and flipped the still-lit cigarette into his face. Buck howled from the burn and humiliation as Skunk ran laughing through the crowd.

  ∨ Possum Surprise ∧

  42

  Chef

  While the band played a snappy Fleetwood Mac song, everyone at Possum Gras was eating, drinking, singing, laughing, and generally having a great time – everyone except Buck, who began muttering to himself as he limped towards the cooking contest.

  “Buck! Buck Kracker!” Buck turned and saw the tall person wearing the lousy possum costume waving at him. Buck started back, but stopped when he saw what looked like the small possum who’d bit him earlier sniffing the tall possum. The little possum stopped sniffing and bit the tall one on the leg. Buck didn’t have time for this nonsense. He ignored the screams and again limped off to check on his expensive cook.

  Expensive indeed, but Buck figured well worth it. This guy had won every major cooking contest in New Orleans in the past five years. Buck’d had to pay the snotty poof up front, but first place in the cooking contest was a lock with this guy. Winning the most prestigious event in the county would go a long ways to help re-inflate his bruised ego and rebuild his self-importance.

  “Monsieur Kracker, you are ready to taste now, no?”

  Buck looked into the bowl the fancy chef was proudly displaying, then leaned down for a good long sniff before taking a step back from the table. The stuff looked a little weird but smelled like heaven. Chef Anatole reached for a small plate to serve up a sample.

  Just then Buck heard a loud, chopped cry and turned. A wild girl with crazy eyes and wearing animal furs was beside him, screaming gibberish and pointing at him. Buck had had about enough. He turned so he could deliver a good backhand just as the skinny girl reared back and threw a fist-sized rock that hit him right between the legs.

  Buck went down with a low groan. The girl grabbed the big bowl off the table and got about two steps before several cowboys grabbed her and eventually managed to pry her fingers off the bowl. She bit Chuck on the arm and squirted away. Several cowboys started after her, but held up when they saw her slip behind an old Indian man also wearing animal furs. The cowboys were drunk enough not to be afraid of much, but the intense eyes on the old man touched something deep inside that stopped them in their tracks. They unanimously decided to check on Buck before going to look for someone to pick on – preferably someone far away from the creepy old Indian.

  ♦

  Janie’s ankle was nearly healed, but she still wasn’t fast enough to get away from the men when she had the big food bowl. She barely had time to drop some of the powder into the bowl before it was taken away from her.

  ♦

  “Jesus-on-a-Stick, but that hurts!” Buck stood carefully, holding himself while his chef fussed over the rescued bowl of gourmet cuisine. Anatole swore eloquently in French, then sniffed and stirred before finally putting just a tiny bit onto a plate for Buck to try.

  ∨ Possum Surprise ∧

  43

  Nurse Monia

  Everyone sampling the food around the cooking-contest tables was generous with their compliments and approving burps, but you rarely heard anyone cough. Two years earlier a cowboy almost choked to death while eating a plate of filet steaks. Luckily for the cowboy, a nearby stranger ran over and administered the Heimlich maneuver. Even luckier for the nearby stranger, the town nurse – a truly drop-jaw gorgeous young lady named Monia – saw this heroic deed and was so overcome with admiration and appreciation that she took the stranger home with her for a home cooked meal, a massage, and an all-night hump. Word spread quickly among the local bachelors, as the stunning nurse was not known to be free with her affections.

  Taco Bob stood by Hop and had just stifled a cough – and just in time.

  “Howdy, Taco Bob!”

  “Howdy, Nurse Monia.”

  Taco Bob tipped his hat towards the dazzling smile momentarily aimed his way as the nurse and her entourage passed by. As usual, several eager young men trailed Nurse Monia. They were all carrying large stuffed animals they’d spent small fortunes winning for her at the games of chance. The young men were all very determined to win her favor – and that’s why everyone was very careful not to make any kind of choking or even coughing sound for fear a burly young man might run up and throw a bear-hug on them and smash a clenched fist into their sternum a few times. More than once a hiccup or a single cough from a chili pepper had resulted in a cracked rib.

  With the judging for the cooking contest about to begin, Taco Bob was accompanied by nearly the full contingent of possum ranchers at Hop’s table. They all breathed carefully or held their breath until the nurse and her suitors had passed safely by. Several of the possum ranchers were in costume, but most wore their best ranching clothes. They were to a man all in top form; it’s amazing what a lack of money for drinking and carousing – coupled with hard work, clean air, and healthy food – can do to a man.

  Skunk sauntered up.

  “Hop, you want me to try that Possum Surprise, see if it’s any good?”

  Since Hop ignored Skunk while continuing to taste and add minute bits of ingredients, Taco Bob decided to take it.

  “Better leave him alone, Skunk. He says he’s almost got it ready, just needs a little more of his secret ingredient. Hazel rode back to the ranch to get it a while ago.” Taco Bob looked at his watch. “He should be back by now.”

  Skunk looked down the row of tables. “Better be quick about it then, them judges is working their way down the line!”

  Everyone looked, and sure enough the judges had started judging. Taco Bob looked at his watch again.

  “Jones, run on around back where the horses are and see if you can find Hazel.” Jones nodded once and lit out at a full run.

  Taco Bob looked at his watch again, then down towards Buck Kracker standing in front of his table holding a plate, about to take a bite of something. The possum ranchers knew about Kracker cheating with the fancy imported cook, but had a world of faith in Hop.

  It had been a hard year for everyone on the ranch, and Taco Bob truly hopped Hop would win the cooking contest. He figured the man could use some recognition, not to mention the thousand-dollar prize.

  Jones was back suddenly – pointing excitedly and so out of breath he couldn’t speak.

  ♦

  “This one here is for three points and the game, boys!” Chuck took another slug off the bottle of Dom, wiped his jowly face with the back of his hand, and set
his feet. He focused his piggy eyes on his target, took two steps, and kicked the little man on the ground so hard the man rolled over twice. A big cheer came from the assembled cowboys. Someone said something about getting Buck so he could join in on the fun, but that idea was soon forgotten when everyone started kicking the man on the ground at once and raising a cloud of dust. They stopped, though, and looked up when they heard the sound of running feet. As the dust cleared, the only thing the cowboy’s saw was the hard eyes and stony faces of several possum ranchers standing there rolling up their shirtsleeves.

  As spokesman for the assembled group of Buck Kracker’s cowboys, Chuck summed it up with one word.

  “Oops!”

  ∨ Possum Surprise ∧

  44

  Judges

  Possum Gras was really rocking, and everyone was feeling mighty fine – even Buck. The first bite was the best thing he’d ever eaten. It was so good he even forgot about his sore foot and bruised privates. He went for another bite just as the judges showed up, Mayor Burke leading the way.

  “Let’s see what you got here, Buck. Whatever it is, it damn sure smells good!”

  Several of the judges sniffed and nodded approvingly as the pride of New Orleans stirred and smiled and served.

  Buck swallowed and stepped back to give the judges some room. Just as Mayor Burke took a bite, Buck let loose a little fart that he realized too late was considerably more than a fart. Everyone looked around for the origin of the sudden bad smell. A little kid in a wheelchair behind Buck was the first to start laughing and pointing at the dark stain spreading down the back of Buck’s pants.

  The big cattle rancher limped wildly for the only close-by portable toilet. His path took him through a cluster of teenage girls who shrieked momentarily before pointing and giggling and pulling out cell phones.

  Mayor Burke stopped laughing long enough to wolf down a few bites of the Kracker Ranch entry. His eyes went wide. The mayor dropped his plate on the ground and ran for the portable toilet while loosening his belt. Buck was still inside yelling for someone to go to Pedro’s store and get him a new pair of jeans and some underwear. Burke tried the locked door, then took out a large handgun and shot the lock off. The Mayor reached inside and snatched the startled Buck out of the toilet and planted himself on the seat in one smooth movement. It was an impressive maneuver for the growing crowd to witness – and almost in time.

  ♦

  Everyone who wasn’t already looking, turned when they heard Burke’s gun. Skunk stood on his toes next to Taco Bob and Hop, trying to see over the crowd.

  “Is that my ol’ buddy Butt Crack laying there in the dirt with his britches around his ankles?”

  Taco Bob, being taller, had a better view. “Sure is. He’s getting up now. Looks like he must have been swimming in some cold water real recently.” A fresh round of hysterical laughing and pointing broke out from the teenage girls.

  As a red-faced Buck Kracker pulled up his soiled pants and headed across the street for Pedro’s store, the remaining judges set down their untouched plates and started walking towards Hop’s table – the last entry in the cooking contest. Skunk bumped Taco Bob on the arm.

  “Here they come.”

  A quick look around detected no sign of Hazel or any of the other possum ranchers. Hop looked worried as he whispered to Taco Bob.

  “Not enough Seclet Ingledient! No win!”

  The first judge smiled big and sniffed the bowl of Possum Surprise.

  “Let’s try us a little of this here!”

  Hop, Skunk, and Taco Bob scanned the area one last time before Hop dished up a sample for each judge.

  ♦

  The recipe for Possum Surprise had been handed down for generations in Hop’s family. Of course, only the best, Grade-A possum was used for the multi-stage process that involved marinating, tenderizing, cooking in a pit for three days, cutting in chunks, grinding, sautéing, and rubbing in spices before cooking in a pit for another three days. The final step involved hours of stirring, flaking, and fluffing before adding the Secret Ingredient.

  Hop had sampled along each step of the way and slept little during the long cooking process. He wasn’t sure if the hallucinations he was experiencing were from stress, lack of sleep, or taking too much Secret Ingredient himself. As the judges thoughtfully nibbled and murmured among themselves, Hop stared beyond the crowd and watched as an old Indian man and a small, thin girl turned into coyotes and disappeared right before his eyes.

  ♦

  The band took a break, and the crowd around Hop’s table got so quiet the only sound was the judges smacking their lips and some unpleasant noises coming from the direction of the portable toilet.

  The biggest of the judges put his plate down, belched mightily, and looked at the others.

  “Well, boys, the Animal Cracker and Anchovy Pizza from the Tongue ‘n Groove Ranch has been the hands-down favorite so far, but I think this here entry by the Bar Is Open Ranch is even better!” There was a unanimous and hearty nodding of heads as all the judges held their plates out to the dazed-looking Chinaman for a second helping. A big cheer rose from the crowd, which now included several possum ranchers with bruised knuckles and big smiles.

  ∨ Possum Surprise ∧

  45

  The Only Lawyer in Possum Row

  Pedrito’s band launched into a set of catchy Mexican dance tunes and the Gras was again jumping as Buck Kracker hobbled back from across the street wearing stiff new jeans that pinched his aching privates with every step. He put his cell phone away and pondered the call from his housekeeper Maria. While dusting, she’d found a tiny camera in the curtains of the room he used as an office. She said the camera was pointed at his computer.

  Buck decided this needed some serious thought, and had just remembered the men from the gas company when he was distracted by a group of possum ranchers singing and laughing while marching around the Gras with that Chinese cook on their shoulders grinning a big yellow-toothed grin. When he saw Buck, the small man flipped him the finger, then pulled out a little Chinaman pecker and shook it at the cattleman while laughing like a complete crazy person. Buck had not wanted to shoot someone so badly in a long time. But the group of wired-up possum ranchers strutting around the Gras holding up the laughing cook were now all looking at him with menacing eyes. Buck went off in a different direction hoping to find his cook.

  Buck didn’t see Anatole anywhere, figured the man was probably on his way back to New Orleans. He didn’t see any of his men either. This gave him an idea.

  “Think I’ll take me a little drive. Do something I should have done a long time ago.” He headed for the parking lot, figuring with everyone at the Gras it might be the perfect time to take a drive and rekindle the old Wild West tradition of burning out anyone you didn’t particularly like. That’s when he saw the biting possum running away from the parking area.

  Buck pulled his gun and was about to take aim when he heard a loud pop and then saw a fireball. His oversized, deluxe pickup truck was still parked by itself on the small rise so everyone could see it and feel envious, except now it was totally engulfed in flames.

  ♦

  Doc and Dottie had been sitting on the side deck of Doc’s house watching the festivities. They had to turn their chairs a little for a better view of the truck fire. Doc spread a little Possum Surprise on a cracker for Dottie, who took a bite and nodded her approval. Doc had been smiling since the start of the parade, and was still smiling. He looked towards the parking lot, then waved Pedro over. Pedro was talking to a reporter from the Possum County Picayune. Pedro pointed to the area around the back of the house before leaving the reporter and joining Doc and Dottie on the elevated deck.

  “Señor Doc! Señorita Dottie! It is a wonderful Gras, no?”

  The lady realtor had gone dreamy-eyed and oblivious to everything except the small bowl of Possum Surprise which she was now shoveling into her mouth while moaning with pleasure. Doc looked back at Pedro
and tried to ignore the highly distracting amorous sounds coming from Dottie.

  “It sure is, Ped. We had that big fight earlier and I’d say that fire just about makes it a complete Gras experience. Has anyone been shot yet?”

  Just then a shot rang out, followed by a scream. Pedro was still standing and had a better viewpoint.

  “One of Kracker’s men. Looks like he shot himself in the foot.”

  ♦

  “Buck! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I’ve been trying to call but you don’t pick up!”

  The cattle rancher stood there in a daze, watching from a safe distance as his beautiful new truck burned. He slowly turned to look at the tall man in the lousy possum costume. The possum lifted the top of the costume enough for Buck to see it was his attorney from Armadillo.

  “What are you doing here? You know there’s a town ordinance about lawyers inside the city limits.”

  “I know – but this is important.”

  Buck turned towards the lawyer to give him his full attention since it would have to be damn important for this bottom-feeder to set foot in a town with a plaque proudly displayed on the tree where the last lawyer who came around had been hanged.

  “Well, it better be good news. I’ve had about all the bad news in one day a man can stand. What you got?” Buck noticed the lawyer’s eyes were on the big revolver that Buck still had in his hand. The lawyer swallowed hard.

  “It’s nothing really, probably just a little misunderstanding.” The lawyer tried a smile. Buck cocked the hammer back on the gun and nodded for his legal advisor to continue. He did. “Remember I said the IRS wanted to audit you?”

  “I thought you told me you knew how to stall them?”

  “Well, I did, for the last six months. But now they’re going to do the audit, starting tomorrow.”