Whatever You Call Me

by Leigh Fleming

  “Chickens…that’s all anyone raises around here, young man. He sells them to Pardo Chicken down the shore. I quit buying that brand since that smell started. I don’t want to go to the emergency room to find out I’m dying from one of his salmonella-infested birds.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Well, Ms. Merriman and I have an appointment with an inspector from the USDA this afternoon.” Kip pulled up his jacket sleeve and glanced at his watch. A long-haired gray tabby wrapped itself around Kip’s ankles and he took a step back. “We’re uh…” The cat wouldn’t be deterred and wrapped himself around Kip’s other ankle, purring loudly. “We’re going to pay a visit to Mr. Heldreth and try to get to the bottom of this.”

  “Toby likes ya.” Martha’s toothless grin spread across her face as she nodded toward the fluffy cat massaging Kip’s ankles. “He’s usually a standoffish one. That’s a good sign.”

  “A good sign?” Kip inquired, doing his best to shake the furry feline from his legs.

  “When a cat rubs on you as much as Toby is, it means luck is coming your way.” She clapped her hands as if in applause and all the cats ran to her obediently.

  “Well, um…” Kip’s eyes began to water and he sniffled twice before letting out a loud sneeze. “Okay, then. We’ve got to get going to that meeting. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Now, hold on there. Let me just warn ya. Len will probably say I’m just trying to stir up trouble because he broke my heart. But mind what I’m saying, it was the other way around. He’s probably stinking the place up in hopes I’ll go marching over there. But I won’t do it. That man is crazy.”

  “Thanks for the warning, Ms. Mahan.” Kip quickly shook Martha’s hand and attempted to escape, but the old lady held firm.

  “One more thing while I’ve got ya here. I don’t like the idea of the pipeline coming through. And neither does anyone else around here.”

  “Oh?” Kip straightened his spine and took a step back. “I’m surprised to hear that.”

  “Urmph…I don’t know why. That pipeline would be bad for the environment. Too risky. We don’t need that thing leaking oil and killing our fish.”

  Kip cleared his throat and shot a confused look at Annie before turning back to Martha.

  “Well, I will certainly look into your concerns, Ms. Mahan. Thank you for bringing them to my attention.”

  He turned and placed his left hand at the small of Annie’s back, propelling her toward the car. Once inside, he turned the key and let loose three more sneezes in rapid succession. Annie rooted around in her purse, unearthing a wad of tissues. After blowing into the bundle, he leaned his head back against the seat and took a deep breath.

  “I think we got out of there just in time before she came up with something else to complain about.” His words were muffled by congestion.

  “I thought you took Benadryl?”

  “I did.” He swiped at his nose once more and tossed the tissues behind him into the back seat.

  “You weren’t exaggerating, were you? You really are allergic.”

  “Unfortunately.” Kip turned in his seat and draped his arm across the back of hers. “Can I say I told you so now?”

  “Told me so?”

  “Yes, I told you she was a crazy cat lady. She even thinks this farmer has a thing for her. I bet when we go over there, Len Heldreth will have a perfectly clean operation and he won’t even know Martha Mahan’s name.”

  Annie shrugged and rolled her eyes. “How about you save the I told you so until after we visit him?”

  Kip’s mouth twisted into a wry grin as he backed his car out of the gravel drive.

  The same two-lane road that ran past Martha Mahan’s led to Len Heldreth’s farm, two-and-a-half miles northwest. The path wound past more cornfields with their enormous spider-like irrigation systems watering the loose, sandy soil. The land was flat, not a hill in sight, creating long vistas of adjoining corn and soybean fields. They passed several elongated steel buildings with screened windows and large fans at each end, lined up side-by-side. Kip pointed out they were chicken farms that dotted this part of the state.

  Kip rolled his car to a stop beside a beat-up metal mailbox sitting at the end of a long gravel driveway, the number four-ninety-nine hand-painted on the side.

  “This is it. Smell anything yet?” Kip winked at Annie as he turned into the driveway.

  They followed the narrow lane into a wide, flat yard where a rusty tractor and a car up on cinder blocks sat in front of the old two-story house, which badly needed a coat of paint. The front porch was leaning to one side, causing the roof to tip forward, and weeds grew knee-high along the foundation. In the center of the yard was a tall dead tree. Annie and Kip stared at the scene through the windshield, their mouths hanging open in shock.

  “Do you think Mrs. Bates is inside?” Annie whispered. She was rewarded with a low chuckle from Kip.

  Kip turned off the car and climbed out hesitantly. In the passenger side mirror, Annie watched him move around the back of the car, stop to stifle a gag, and continue around to open her door, his face set as if fending off some kind of pain. When he opened her door, Annie was laughing at him. He reached for her hand and said, “Breath through your mouth if you know what’s good for you.”

  His warning only made her laugh more, and as she sucked in a big breath, she felt her stomach flop and her gag reflex kick into gear.

  “My God, what is that?” Annie bent over, her tongue coming out of her mouth, sure she was going to lose her breakfast.

  Kip covered his mouth and laughed at Annie trying not to throw up. “Hey, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  The sour, sickly smell seemed to invade her entire body and she began looking around for its source as she placed her hand over her lower face.

  “What is that?” Kip squeezed his nose between his fingers.

  “It smells familiar, but I can’t figure it out. It smells like—”

  “Shit.”

  Annie followed the direction of Kip’s stare and saw a small stream of thick, black sludge winding its way through the heavy grass.

  “Oh, my God, what is that? Why, is that?” Annie took a few steps closer to the greasy creek and then cringed when she got a strong whiff of the putrid mess.

  “I’m no expert, but I think Mr. Heldreth has a serious sewage problem. Come on.” Kip wrapped his hand around Annie’s elbow and led her toward the house, where an old, shriveled man stepped onto the porch.

  “What can I do for ya?” His raspy voice boomed in the quiet as he adjusted the suspenders on his dirty tan work pants.

  Kip released his grip on Annie’s arm, but kept a hand pressed against his nose as he trampled through the thick weeds, extending his right hand toward the old farmer.

  “Hello, Mr. Heldreth, I’m Congressman Kip Porter.”

  Rather than shake Kip’s hand, the old man gave a quick wave and slid his hands deep in his pockets. “Out drumming up support, huh?”

  “Not actually…” Kip cleared his throat. “My assistant and I are following up on a complaint we’ve had about the smell coming from your—”

  “Has Martha Mahan been harassing you, too?”

  Kip looked over his shoulder at Annie and tilted his head, signaling with his eyes that he had told her so. He turned back around and continued his conversation.

  “What do you mean, Mr. Heldreth?”

  “That old bat has been calling the county sheriff, the extension agent, the health department, and now you. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s called the president.” Len lumbered down his porch steps and walked behind his house, where six elongated, wooden chicken houses stood in a semi circle. Just like the man’s home, the chicken houses were in desperate need of paint and were leaning in the same direction as the porch. Annie focused on one building whose screens were torn, an occasional feather floating from inside onto the afternoon breeze.

  “She’s been a thorn in my side since 1962,” he grumbled, as he walked toward the clo
sest barn. He opened a solid wood door to an inner screened door, beyond which thousands of white-feathered chickens could be seen pecking along the dirt floor. He waved his hand toward the mass of clucking. “Go on. See for yourself. I raise a fine crop of chickens and have never failed an inspection.”

  Kip and Annie walked up to the screened door and looked in at the noisy white birds milling about. There was an odor coming from inside, but nothing offensive. It had to have been the open sewage that Martha Mahan had been complaining about.

  Annie looked over her shoulder when she heard the crunching of tires on the gravel drive and saw a black SUV with government plates pull into the yard. She nudged Kip and whispered, “USDA is here.”

  There was nothing wrong with the old man’s hearing because he barked, “Good. Let ‘em come. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

  For an old man, Mr. Heldreth marched at a surprisingly quick clip toward the federal inspector, leaving Annie and Kip outside the chicken barn. Annie looked up at Kip and shrugged.

  “Let’s take a look around,” he said.

  They walked along the weathered chicken house, more than the length of a football field, occasionally stopping to look inside the screened windows at the sea of poultry. Annie stopped and cupped her hands around her face to block out the sun as she looked more closely through the window.

  “How many chickens do you suppose are in there?”

  “No clue. We’ll have to ask him,” Kip replied, standing close to Annie at the window.

  “I’ve got over fifteen thousand chickens in each house.” Mr. Heldreth’s booming voice startled Annie and Kip and they jumped back from the screen. Kip’s foot landed with a squishing sound. He lifted it to find the sole of his shoe covered with a mushy, yellow-gray substance. He shot an angry look at Annie, who was hiding a laugh behind the back of her hand.

  The farmer continued walking toward Annie and Kip, looking down at Kip’s raised foot. “Well, now, looks like you stepped in it.” He chuckled and turned to the inspector, who was following close behind while tapping something onto an iPad.

  “Mr. Heldreth,” the inspector said, looking up from his tablet. “Everything seems to be fine with your operation, but you need to address the sewage issue.”

  The farmer scratched his head and looked toward the front of his house where the river of sewage lay. “I’ve been trying to get that fixed for a couple of years, but to be honest with you, I don’t have the money. According to a plumber I had out here a few years ago, it’s going to cost me about ten thousand dollars to get a new system installed. I just don’t have the money for it.”

  “Let Congressman Porter talk to the folks at the county level and see if there isn’t a grant or low-interest loan you could apply for. I’m sure there’s something that can be done.” Annie looked to Kip for validation, but only received a stern glare instead.

  Len shook the inspector’s hand and began walking him toward his vehicle, barking over his shoulder to Kip, “There’s a hose round back.”

  Kip pursed his lips together and exhaled through his nose like a raging bull. He stalked to the spigot, where a faded garden hose snaked across the ground. Annie tiptoed behind him, careful not to step on any other gooey substances, silently hiding her laughter and keeping her head tipped down.

  Kip snatched the hose from the ground. “Maybe you should have asked me before you volunteered my services. If you haven’t noticed, I’m rather busy these days.” He turned the rusty faucet handle as a wayward stream of water hit him square in the eye. Several misty jets sprang from cracks in the old hose, dampening his clothing and hair.

  Annie couldn’t hold back any longer and burst out laughing.

  “Don’t you see? If you make a few calls and get his problems solved…” Annie continued to laugh between words. “You’ll be a local hero. We can get a lot of free press coverage and a much needed campaign boost.” She leaned over to turn off the water, but before she could reach the handle, Kip wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him.

  “Do you see something funny?” Kip held her back tight against him, the hose close to her face. Cool mist coated her skin. The flow of water at the end of the hose gurgled over, creating a puddle at her feet.

  Annie continued laughing, closing her eyes and turning her head side to side to avoid a direct hit from the water. She reached out and wrapped her hands around the hose in an effort to aim it at Kip’s face. A tug of war began, each trying to gain control. At one point, Annie won the battle, jerking the hose from Kip’s hands and turning to face him with her arm outstretched as if the hose had become a saber.

  “Stay back, Porter, or you’ll get it.” She waved the hose like a fencer ready to do battle.

  “Put it down.” With his hands up in surrender, Kip inched toward Annie. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

  “I rarely have regrets,” she replied, retreating with baby steps. Kip lunged toward her and she pressed her thumb over the flow, letting a heavy spray soak the full length of his sleeve.

  “Now you’ve done it,” Kip said, joining Annie in raucous laughter while snatching the hose from her hand. He pulled her against him and sprayed a stream of water down the back of her dress, the shocking cold causing her to press tight against him.

  “Say uncle,” he laughed while holding the hose near her head.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” she said, grabbing toward the hose only to catch a handful of air.

  “Try me.” Kip brought the hose closer to her head, the water streaming down his already-soaked arm.

  Annie shrieked in between attempts to reach the hose, “Okay…I give…uncle…Just don’t spray my hair.”

  Kip dropped the hose to his side, letting the water flow away from them while keeping Annie firmly planted against his chest. Their laughter faded and their eyes locked, and Kip dropped the hose on the ground, sliding his now free hand into the thick curls at the base of Annie’s neck.

  “Fine. I’ll do it your way and make some calls.”

  He pulled her tighter against him at the waist. Slowly, he bent down, his eyes locked on Annie’s parted lips, and brushed his mouth against hers.

  “Well, I see you found the hose.” They jumped apart at the sound of farmer Heldreth’s booming voice.

  Annie stepped back, her eyes locked on Kip’s as she registered the disappointment on his face. He bent over, picked up the hose, and finished cleaning the chicken waste from his shoe. Annie turned and made her way to the car, swiping excess water from the back of her dress while a silly grin spread across her face.

  Twelve

  When they’d reached the end of the drive, Kip put his car in park and turned toward Annie, a mischievous grin on his face. “I don’t know about you, but I’m in the mood for chicken.”

  Annie burst out laughing, bending her left knee onto the seat and turning to look at Kip. “Are you serious? You have an appetite after that?”

  He inched closer to her. “Sure. Don’t you?”

  “Uh…not exactly.”

  “Well, I’m starved. How about we pick up subs and have a picnic down by the water?”

  Annie put both feet back on the floor and looked out the passenger side window, seeming captivated by the swaying stalks of corn.

  “Coach?” Kip lightly tapped her shoulder, bringing her out of her reflections.

  Annie looked at Kip with a hesitant smile and said, “Sure. We can have a quick lunch and then I better get back to headquarters.” Crossing her arms, she turned her attention to the scene outside her window as Kip put the car in drive.

  Twenty minutes later, they were cruising down another country road, Keith Urban on the radio singing about a long hot summer, the spicy smell of Italian subs filling the car’s interior. The air conditioning blasted through the vents and made Annie’s long curls billow around her shoulders. Neither one had said much since leaving the farm and Kip was growing uncomfortable with the silence.

  “This park we’re going to
is nice. Picnic tables under tall pines right along the sand.”

  Annie responded with a brief smile and continued her musings out the window.

  “You like Italian subs, right?” He still got no response. “At least I didn’t make you get chicken.”

  Once more Annie tossed him a quick smile without a word.

  Kip drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and released a loud sigh. “Come on, Coach, what did I do this time?”

  “You didn’t do anything,” she said.

  “So why the silent treatment?”

  Annie looked down at her lap where her fingers were twisting in knots, and slowly replied just above a whisper, “We shouldn’t have come out here.”

  “Why?”

  “You were right. Martha Mahan is a bit crazy and this was a waste of your time. Someone in your office could have called the health department and taken care of everything.”

  “She might have been crazy, but she was right about the smell. It was a good decision to come out here.”

  “I’m sure you have much more important things to do than tramp around in chicken shit.”

  “Something I’ll never forget.” Kip shook his head and leaned his right elbow on the console, briefly taking his eyes off the road. “It wasn’t a waste of time.”

  “Are you sure?” Annie asked.

  “Positive. I thought it was a great way to spend the day,” he replied. His soft expression seemed to caress Annie where she sat.

  “Since you’re so busy, I’ll be glad to call the local authorities to help Mr. Heldreth.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  Annie slowly pulled away from his gaze, looking out the windshield, then suddenly gripped the dashboard. “A deer,” she shouted.

  Standing in the middle of the road was a tall buck defiantly staring them down. Kip pressed his foot to the brake with all his might and swerved to the right to avoid hitting the impressive animal. His front left bumper clipped the deer and it charged away into a soybean field as Kip careened off the road, hitting an underground culvert. The vehicle bounced back onto the shoulder and Kip was eventually able to bring the car to a halt along the side of the road, but not before a loud blast sounded from underneath the car. When they were finally still, the passenger’s side was leaning at a definite tilt.