The Pike_Right To Remain Silent

by Erik Schubach

  I smiled at that thought, Crystal was hooking me up with the curator of a downtown art gallery on my day off tomorrow, to show her the mural my smooth headed vixen had gifted me. I don't think Mads knows just how good she really is.

  I made sure to pass by the fishmongers as I left the market for the day. It's just a coincidence that Madelyn's cart happened to be there at the same time each day so I could walk past with a smile and tip my hat to her.

  I almost drooled at the heated look she gave me, as she brushed back the long red hair she was wearing today. I swear she wears the red wigs just for me. I said, “Ma'am,” as I walked past.

  She smirked a little and responded in kind, “Officer.”

  I was grinning all the way down to my truck.

  A short time later I found myself in Maddie's garage, complaining to Sparkplug after he growled at me when we broke yet another spoke, then I moaned when I saw we had cracked the neighboring spoke too... again. “I told you just one click on the ratchet, not two.”

  He huffed out in exasperation, “Well you were repeating yourself. Did that mean one then another? This goes against my mantra of the right tool for the job. A cargo strap isn't the same as those spoke doohickeys in the videos.”

  Then he stepped back, looking at our setup, and cocked his head. “You know, I think we may be going about this all wrong. I looked up the video online again last night, and they have that nifty thingamabob to put tension on the spokes to bring them together to get the rim on.”

  I nodded, wondering where he was going with it and was also a little impressed that someone older than dirt used the internet. He explained, “We keep wrapping the strap near the top of the spokes because that makes more sense to us. It requires less torque that far out. But that is flexing the hardwood, and it doesn't like to flex. They use the tool in the middle of the spoke or lower near the hub. Maybe we should try that?”

  Squinting an eye at him, I walked over to where my uniform was stacked neatly on a box and retrieved my cell. I wiped sweat and sawdust from my brow and pulled up the tutorial videos. I watched intently at the placement of the old fashioned hook like tool with the handle on it for leverage, sure enough, they seemed to keep well clear of the outer end of the spokes.

  I grunted at the grinning codger. He held up the last two of the three spare spokes we had made tonight. I sighed and shrugged. “What's the worst that can happen? We break a spoke?” We shared a laugh as I glanced over to the bundle of oak, glad that we got the rough cast offs at such a reasonable price, we had gone through over half of it in our little misadventure in wagon wheeling so far. Wheelwrights we were not.

  We slid in three-quarters of the spokes into the felloes pieces that we slowly slid together on their own dowels to form one continuous rim. We were able to force all but the final two spokes in by hand. Then I held the wheel so that it didn't fall apart as Sparkplug wrapped the final spokes about two-thirds down this time, and he started ratcheting the strap as I laid on the wheel, pulling the tops of the spokes with all my might as he put tension on them. Then slowly, one click at a time, moved the dowel ends toward the holes.

  My eyes were wide with excitement as they lined up and I blurted, “Stop!” He did then I looked at my position awkwardly, laying on top of the wheel where we needed to drive the felloes down with the huge rubber mallet.

  I squinted an eye. “Umm...”

  He said, “I'm saddled with a frickin' Einstein. Now, what genius?”

  I countered, “Hey, I don't remember asking the opinion of any old farts.”

  He smirked as I looked at the wheel and said, “Ok, just grab the felloes near the gaps and keep them from spreading while I move off the wheel.”

  He did so then we looked at each other, and we started cracking up. He was holding the wheel from exploding out as I held the spokes inline with the slots in the rim. “Hmm.”

  He shrugged his shoulder up to wipe a happy tear from his eye then nodded, “Yes, hmm... They make it look so easy, but we need more hands apparently.”

  I nodded then said, “Well let's try this... you got it?” He nodded, and I let go of one of the spokes, and it moved slightly out of line, and I grabbed the mallet. I tapped the felloes to drive it down, but the mallet just bounced off.

  Sparkplug snarked, “What are you, a wimp? Hit the damn thing.”

  I scrunched up my face at the man, trying not to chuckle at him then said, “Ok, here goes.”

  We looked at the wheel in silent apprehension, you could have heard a pin drop. I raised the mallet high and tightened my grip on it and gritted my teeth. I had just started my downswing when the garage filled with sound as the garage door suddenly started to open. Mr. Laurey stumbled back in surprise I missed the wheel altogether, and the mallet thudded on the concrete floor as the wheel sprung out of tension and fell to pieces.

  I snapped out, “Son of a bitch!”

  Then we both looked between the mess of wheel parts and the truck driving into the garage, then couldn't help ourselves as we started cracking up again. We had been so close! We finally had it!

  The siblings Stone got out of the truck and moved to unload the cart as the looked at us. Even Johnny was grinning at the two of us laughing at the mess we made. The bruises on his face had faded over the last few days and were almost gone now, just a sickly brownish yellow discoloring.

  Maddie asked as she helped set up the ramps, “What's so funny?” She eyed the scattered wheel parts and shook her head.

  I whined as I got my laughing under control. “We had it. We finally figured it out then you came in. It surprised us.”

  Her eyes went wide as John backed the wagon down the ramps. She moved over to us as she asked hopefully, “You had it?”

  She stood over the remains of the wheel, her hands on her hips as she looked down at the mess critically, studying it like a person looking to buy a new car. Then she pointed at the parts at our feet and said with authority, “Not round.”

  I bit my tongue to stop another bout of the giggles. “Very astute.”

  Sparkplug growled out at the same time, “Smartass.”

  I reached out and snagged a belt loop on the jeans she wore today and pulled her closer. She looked down bashfully as she smiled. I whispered, “Hi.”

  She just waved from her hip as she placed her forehead on my shoulder. Was she sniffing me? Did I reek? I was feeling self-conscious, and she looked up, biting her lower lip. Good lord of fluffy pajama hedgehogs, that got my motor running.

  She said shyly, “I'll get cleaned up and cook dinner. Be in soon?”

  Johnny walked past us and muttered, “Get a room.”

  I reached out and playfully swatted the air near him as he pulled back, he actually smiled at me, we were finally moving from enemies to frenemies it seemed. I nodded to the pixie who was now rocking side to side cutely, and she almost skipped off, leaving me missing the heat that was radiating from her body from our closeness.

  I was startled by Mr. Laurey, I had totally forgot he was there. “You've got it bad, girl.”

  I muttered while trying to hide my smile. “Shut up, nobody asked you.” Then I looked around. “Shall we tackle this beast again?”

  Hs nodded, and we went about the arduous task of reassembling the wheel. One good thing came from all our attempts, we were consummate pros at putting wagon wheels together. Within ten minutes we were at the same point we had been when we were interrupted earlier.

  I held the mallet high then paused and looked at the side door. When we were both satisfied nobody was going to slam it open and come through with an air horn or marching band, I swung the mallet with all my strength, and a funny thing happened... the felloes moved down a fraction of an inch, and one of the spokes started into its slot. The other was misaligned slightly, but a tug on it brought it in line.

  I licked my lips and looked at an incredulous looking Sparkplug, and he nodded. I swung the mallet again, and the felloes moved down again capturing the other spoke as the
gaps between the sections grew tighter. We grinned at each other, and after a couple more strikes he said, “Stop.”

  I paused with the mallet raised, and he nudged his chin, the spokes were bowing and suddenly the tool they used made more sense. It didn't keep the spokes in compression once they started to seat since they needed to spread as they slid into the slots. One or two more swings and I would have again cracked the spokes.

  I quickly removed the strap, and the spokes straightened. Then we both shared a victorious smile when two swings later we had a wagon wheel. He said to me, “There, that wasn't so bad now was it?” We both looked back to the pile of broken spokes by the workbench and shared another chuckle.

  He picked up the metal band that held it all together and doubled as a steel tire it was slightly smaller than the wheel, and he asked, “Can we just cut it and weld it back together in place?”

  I shook my head. “No they heat them in a fire, so they expand, then they hammer them over the wheel and water quench them to constrict and temper the band.”

  We both looked at the other wheel sitting on the floor nearby. He offered, “I'll get the fire pit going tomorrow? Let's get the other wheel together.”

  I nodded, and we went to work with renewed confidence. Ten minutes later we were grinning at two wagon wheels that should qualify as 'round' under Maddie's critical appraisal. I couldn't help the pride swelling in me. I had made something. Now if we can successfully get the bands on tomorrow, I'd feel even better. My heart sank a bit, knowing that my excuse to be here around Madelyn every day would be gone if we succeeded.

  Come on, woman up Danielle, ask the girl out properly you coward.

  We turned when the door opened and said girl stepped through. She hesitated as she looked at the wheels propped up against the workbench, her eyes wide with excitement. She ran to me and sort of hopped, and I caught her and hugged her, her feet dangling off the ground as she squeaked out, “You did it!”

  I was floating as she captured my lips with hers. The soft plumpness of them causing that heat to ignite inside me that I associated with the pixie now. We hesitated when she finally pulled back lost in each other's eyes. I was about to move in to kiss her again as he feet dangled off the ground but stopped when someone cleared their throat.

  I set her down, and we looked sheepishly at Mr. Laurey who was grinning at us, and he asked Maddie slyly, “Do I get one of those too? I helped.”

  I chuckled as she said, “Of course, thank you Mr. L.” Then kissed his cheek. The man beamed at us.

  I muttered, “Lecherous old fart.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at me and said, “Don't knock it, it got me a kiss didn't it?”

  She slapped his shoulder lightly and smiled, that's when I noticed her hair was a shiny powder blue now. All the kissing and arousal and whatnot had dulled my observational skills it seems. She often changed wigs, and I wondered just how many she had, weren't they expensive? But then again, she had probably been collecting them over a period of a few years.

  She said to us, “Dinner is ready.” Then she looked at Sparkplug. “You're welcome to join us, of course.”

  He shook his head and grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you, as always, but I believe I overdid it a little today. I'm just going to go relax in my recliner with an egg salad sandwich.”

  This got him another kiss on the cheek, and we watched him shuffle off. I bit my tongue to keep from smiling at his act.

  Then she looked at me and smiled then turned to the wagon wheels and reached out and touched one like she was afraid it would crumble when she touched it. Her smile grew when it didn't, and she looked back, her eyes twinkling. “You did it.”

  I scrunched up my lips. “You sound surprised.”

  She crinkled her nose and stepped up to me, clasping our hands, her right playing with my left, caressing my extra digit. She shrugged. “Well, you were really good at breaking spokes.”

  I let go of her hands and looked at her in mock hurt. Then I swatted her butt as I started to the door, “Come on Princess Rayina, I'm starving.”

  She hustled after me, her brow furrowed. “Princess Rayina?”

  I nodded as I held the door for her, she ducked under my arm and up the stairs. I prompted, “Yeah, like in Court of Hearts.” She glanced back in confusion. I added, “You know, the blue hair.” She shrugged, and I was feeling a little bit like a geek as I asked, “The anime? Won best-animated feature last year?”

  She perked up. “Oh, a cartoon.”

  I reached over her to open the door to her little apartment as I defended, “A cartoon!? No, anime. There's a difference.”

  She smirked. The pixie had been playing with me. I pouted with my arms crossed over my chest, “You're just mean.”

  She pointed at the little table by the kitchenette in the one room space. “Less whining, more eating.”

  John was already in one of the four chairs, holding a bowl and shoveling food into his mouth as she added, “Quick before Johnny eats it all. It's his favorite.”

  I held a chair for her, and she blushed and sat then I sat next to her and looked at the spread. I grinned. It appeared to be macaroni and cheese with peas and some sort of white meat in it, either chicken or tuna. Heaven forgive me, but it actually looked good. There were some fresh brown and serve rolls on a plate next to it, and they smelled heavenly.

  There is nothing on this Earth that smells as good as fresh baked bread. That's why I love the Pike bakery so much, so many years of baking bread there has sort of infused the place with the aroma, and you could smell it even when the ovens were shut down for the day.

  It was meager fare, but I was pleasantly surprised when she dished me up, and I took a bite. It was chicken, and it was good. I moaned in pleasure, I had a croissant from the Pike for lunch, and I was starving. This was comfort food, and it was tasty.

  Johnny complained to her, “If you're going to make chicken-shit-casserole and want some for guests, you should make a double pot then.” He was stuffing some of the casserole into a roll, then bit into it like a small sandwich.

  She quipped back and that started a back and forth between them that had me grinning as I shoveled the food into my mouth. It seemed to get better and better with each bite. Not bad at all for such a simple dish. I chimed in from time to time but preferred to listen to their familiar banter. The banter of family.

  I was on my second bowl, stuffing a roll like John when there was a knock at the door. I licked the cheese off my thumb as I stood before they could, “I got it.”

  I stepped to the door and opened it. A tall and very thin young man stood there, he had a long face and slicked back copperish hair that hung to his shoulders. He had a wispy copper goatee and teeth that had the start of decay associated with meth use. I was immediately on guard as I asked while I barred my arm across the doorway, “Yes?”

  The man narrowed his eyes, looking momentarily confused, then his eyes started perusing me as he smiled. I felt sort of dirty the way he was looking at me as he said, “Yeah. I was told that Johnny Stone lived here?”

  Johnny was immediately by my side. He sounded extremely nervous when he said, “Mark? What are you doing in Seattle?”

  The man was still looking at me lasciviously. “Apparently not the same thing you are. Well done man. I didn't know you were into fit girls.”

  Before any of us could speak, he looked at Madelyn's brother, and his face darkened. “What the fuck did you do man? I hooked you up with Uncle Bradley. He called me up from Portland, he's pissed. You broke his nose and...”

  Johnny pushed past me and grabbed this Mark guy's arm and started dragging him downstairs as Maddie joined me, holding onto my arm with both of hers as she pressed her cheek against my bicep like she was hiding. She was obviously concerned about this guy being here.

  Mark was growling as he tried to pull his arm out of Johnny's grip, “Hey! What's the deal man, get off me.”

  Johnny said in a dangerous tone, “No
t here man, just cool it.” Then they went into the garage. I looked down at Maddie who looked a cross between frightened and angry.

  She looked up at my questioning glance, and she said, “One of the bad influences I wanted to get Johnny away from. I'm sure it was Mark and Jim who put John up to the shoplifting. So they could sell the games for drugs.”

  I narrowed my eyes down the stairs, then my eyes flew wide as I hissed out, “Shit!”

  She looked at me as I started running down the stairs. She called after me as she followed, “What is it, Danielle?”

  I pushed into the garage where the two men were arguing in a corner. They stopped when I stepped in. I ignored them and stepped over the boxes where my uniform was. I sighed in relief as I retrieved my belt with the holster and my service weapon. I should have had it locked away in my truck. Then headed back to the garage door where Madelyn was standing, watching me. Her eyes widened a little in understanding.

  Then before I could leave, Mark started yelling at John, “A cop? You've got to be kidding me. A fucking cop?”

  Johnny placed a hand on the other man's chest to hold him back from moving as he hissed, “It's not like that man. She's dating Maddie.” Dating? Was that what we were doing? If only. I shared an embarrassed look with a now bashful looking Madelyn.

  A yelling match ensued, and I brought two fingers up to my lips and whistled shrilly. They paused to look at me, and I asked Johnathan, “You want me to get rid of this guy Johnny?”

  He shook his head as the other man's eyes widened. “No, Mark was just leaving.” He shoved the guy's shoulder, and the man jerked away, hate and anger seething in his eyes. And he started stomping toward the door. I put a guarding arm back and backed out, protecting Madelyn as he approached.

  John was calling after him, “I'm done with you, and your uncle. Don't come back.”