A Fine Kettle of Fish

by Lou Bradshaw

  “Yeah, I’m not planning to go up that way real soon.” I said, suddenly getting a twinge of pain in my right cheek.

  “I’ve seen some of the lowest, most miserable, and utterly mean critters crawl through that front door. Creatures with absolutely no redeeming qualities…nasty place.”

  “If it was so bad, why did you go back?”

  “Research.” was all he said.

  “Research?” was all I asked.

  “Yeah, I was trying to find out what caused God to give the great state of Missouri creatures like those. And failing that, I planned to search for the missing link. I’ve been all over Douglas County and met a lot of fine folks, but I’ve never seen anything like those at the Red Top.”

  “What did you decide?”

  “Nothing definitive.” he said, “The best guess seems to be a witches curse on Douglas County. Although, I did notice certain Neanderthal features on one of the bartenders.” We both laughed at that.

  “Now don’t be getting the idea that I’ve been standing out here supporting this lamp post just thinking about silly stuff like that. Actually I was, but only with the tinciest little corner of my brain. Another more active part of my mind was busy with a much more serious matter.” I asked him to tell me, knowing that he would anyway, but I felt he deserved the courtesy of an invitation.

  “Well, Mr. Lee Roy Brickey, searcher after knowledge, novice scholar, and drinker of the Crow, I’ll unburden my mind and let you ponder it while I rest.” With that he passed the Crow Bag, which out of courtesy I didn’t refuse.

  “I’ve been wondering about atheists. It appears that atheists are gaining strength, and that’s okay if that’s what they want. But what has me baffled is their organizational situation. I heard a fella the other day call himself a self styled atheist. Does that mean others who get some training are regular styled atheists?”

  “They obviously have some sort of organization or some backing to get those lawsuits through the courts. Why, it could cost hundreds of thousands of dollars to get something to the U.S. Supreme Court, let alone win there. Okay, let’s say they have an organization with chapters all over the country, with officers and everything. They would have a way to process their money, a treasury of sorts. You still with me, Brickey?” I nodded.

  “When you start talking about money you start talking about taxes. What would be their tax status?” At this point I knew that stopping to talk to Jake hadn’t been the brightest thing I’d done lately. I was already carrying a whole bunch of stuff around in my head without taxes and atheists.

  “Now,” he went on, “I find it impossible to believe that folks who could keep prayers out of schools were going to pay any taxes. To keep from paying taxes they would need to be a non-profit organization. Let’s look at their options: Charitable organization – certainly not; Social improvement – I don’t see that; Political party – they’re not showing up on the ballots anywhere that I know of. What does that leave them with, sir?” I admitted that I didn’t know.

  “Hold on to your hat youngster, Religious organization – a church if you will. Just for a moment imagine that, my friend. Who would they worship? Satin, perhaps, but not necessarily, Satin was a fallen Angel, which would put him somewhere in God’s realm. So, who then, Karl Marx, or maybe Groucho Marx? What prayers would they pray, what scriptures would they quote, and what hymns would they sing?”

  “Kinda just rips the top of your scull off doesn’t it? Young sir, I feel much lighter now that you’ve taken over the burden of the Church of the Non-Believers.” He stuck out his hand, which I took. I got a strong grip and a couple of healthy pumps. Then with a sigh of relief he turned and headed east toward the Double Eagle Saloon – or was it Tavern?

  I watched Jake walk down State Street for a bout a half a block. From his carriage and manner I’d say that he wasn’t real drunk - just real screwy. It dawned on me that he was for the most part serious about his thinking, and all along I thought it was just so much bullshit made up for my entertainment. Well, I sure didn’t have any notions about accepting the task of thinking about the atheist tax status. I had other things to think about.

  I think that a part of Jakes problem was that he spent too much time alone, and that promoted thinking which everyone knows can make you goofy. Well, I couldn’t be bothered just then. I was on my way up to the cabin so that I could be alone and do some thinking.

  Chapter 15

  I couldn’t remember ever sleeping so well or waking up so early of my own accord and feeling so good about it. I must have only gotten about 5 hours of sleep, but it was good sleep. There wasn’t anything I wanted to do but sit on that bluff and watch the red tailed hawks hunt and watch the turkey buzzards ride the air currents. Maybe I was learning something, but I didn’t know what. There was a lesson here, and I was pressing hard to figure it out.

  I watched a couple of deer come out of a thicket and approach the water. I had always thought that they only drank in the evening, but I guess they drank whenever the opportunity presented its self. They stayed for a few minutes, and then pranced back into the woods on those incredibly thin legs. I was seeing beauty where before I had only seen a target. Deer hunting would probably never be the same to me.

  A really strange feeling came over me; it was like I was seeing things for the first time. I suddenly felt that these things were important, where as yesterday they were just…things. Maybe I was growing up, but I hoped not, I wasn’t ready for anything that serious.

  About noon, when I was getting ready to go back to civilization, Mack showed up. He had Nan and Liz with him – tranquility lost. Not only was the tranquility busted, but also my mood, which was a good thing because I could stand only so much enlightenment. I was back to the reality of being 18 again, and that was also good. The girls got all over me for being such a slob (what the hell is a pig-sty anyway). I have to admit that the cabin looked a lot better after they got through with it. Fortunately, they brought some food and drinks with them because that can of tomato soup I had for breakfast wasn’t going to hold up long. The hotdogs and chips went a long way toward staving off starvation.

  We spent most of the afternoon splashing, swimming, and generally scaring the wildlife. Mickey showed up about 2 o’clock, so we sent him after beer and told him not to come back without it. He came back with 2 six-packs of Falstaff – oh well it was Sunday.

  It was a good thing that Brick didn’t have this place assigned to me in his will, because his life would be in serious danger. I could easily live here, maybe not real easily – but sort of easily.

  When we were finally packing up to leave, someone suggested a wingding out here next weekend. That was all it took to get Nan and Liz assigning clean up jobs and making arrangements. Females are the arrangingest folk. They were making lists as to who would bring what food and who to invite and making rules, which no one would even hear, let alone follow. Oh well, that was what girls did best, make rules and arrange things.

  I’d had enough of girls telling me what was what and giving me limits, so I made up my mind to break their rules, no matter what they were – even if I liked them. I felt like Earl when he told me one day, “I’m gonna go home and raise hell if supper ain’t ready, and if it is, I ain’t gonna eat it.”

  * * *

  Trouble came Monday morning when I got to work and found that business was no longer booming – it was exploding. A lot of businessmen would not find that a problem, but I was still basically more kid than businessman. There wasn’t much to it but to do it, so I buckled down and went to work. Thirteen and fourteen hour days were the rule; there were no exceptions to the rule.

  Before I knew it Thursday was almost gone, and I hadn’t arranged for a date. I called Mary Ellen that afternoon, but her mother said she was in Columbia for a school thing and wouldn’t be home until Sunday. I started to call the little flower, but thought better of it. I forgot about it for a while with so much going on. Brick even had to make a run into Springf
ield for paint, canvas, and cardstock

  About 9:30 that evening, I was dragging my scrawny butt out of the shop when Luther came in on his way to Tulsa – of course he was in another fine car. This time he was riding shotgun and another colored guy was driving. Luther introduced him as Malcolm and said that he would be taking over the Tulsa and Oklahoma City runs. Luther was just breaking him in. Malcolm was about my height, about 25 lbs. heavier, and very dark. He didn’t say much and stayed with the car except for using the john. He didn’t seem like he wanted to be friendly.

  Luther seemed to be okay and talked a bit while he had a coke and paid for his gas. Then from out of nowhere he said, “Lee, you been pretty decent to me, an you an okay kid, so I’m gonna give you some free advice. Boy, don’t never try to run wit da big dogs. Dem big dogs gonna jump up an bite you, boy. Go to college and learn sumtin. An for Gawd’s sake, don’t never fool around wit dope. It will own yo ass.”

  I didn’t know where all that came from or where it was going, but it caught me off guard, and I didn’t know how to respond. So, I said something stupid like, “Sure Luther, you can’t find any dogs bigger than a cocker spaniel in this town, and the only dope I know is my friend Mickey.”

  He laughed and lightened up a little and said, “You jus keep it dat way. See ya, boy.” and he was gone.

  I watched him disappear down the highway and thought about what he said. It scared me a little, not for myself, but for Luther. I went ahead and helped Jacky, one of Brick’s better part timers, close up. Then I went back into the shop for another half an hour or so.

  By 11 o’clock, I was sitting at Crockett’s Café working on a burger and fries, and trying to make some sense out of Luther’s advice. Oh, I knew what he was saying; I wasn’t completely stupid, as I have said before, just naïve. The part I was having trouble with was, why tell me? Doubling wasn’t exactly New York City. There weren’t any big dogs and there wasn’t any dope. I got the impression that he was under a good deal of pressure and maybe over his head with his… business associates, and just wanted to tell some one.

  I was so engrossed in my greaseburger and fries, not to mention thinking about Luther, that I didn’t even notice Liz sliding into the booth until she said, “Hi ya creep!”

  I looked up, smiled, and told her that she had always been a lousy judge of character. She naturally countered that she may not be a good character judge, but she knew a creep when she saw one. “You just closing up?” she asked, “the sign business must be pretty good.”

  “Yeah,” I said, “maybe too good. I’m busier than a dung beetle in an elephant pasture.” I wasn’t always clever, but I was always crude. “I got work stacked up to my eyeballs.”

  “You going to be able to make the river party Saturday night? After all you are the host, it would be a shame if you missed your own party.”

  “Host! Like hell! I’m no such a thing. I’m just the brother and neighbor of the HOSTEESES’S.” I had no idea what to call female hosts in plural, so I just got started and built on it. “Oh I’ll be there allright. I got a whole list of rules to break, and besides, someone will have to pull your scrawny hide out of the river after 2 beers.”

  “That’ll be the day. After 2 beers, you won’t even be able to find the river.” she sneered. “Furthermore, that’s one of the rules – anybody gets drunk they go into the river until they sober up.”

  “Gotta date?” I asked.

  “I could if I wanted to spend the evening with a moron like Bill Tinker. A girl can’t just call some guy and ask him out you know. How bout you?”

  “Na, been too busy to give it a whole lot of thought. I did call Moe, but her mom said she was up in Columbia all week.”

  She gave me that look she had where she only raised one eyebrow, but said nothing. I remember how she worked on that eyebrow trick for months in the fifth grade before she mastered it. If she wasn’t going to ask me any questions, then I wasn’t going to offer any lies. So, I ordered us some cherry pie and coffee.

  I waited until she had a mouth full of cherries and crust, then I asked, “ Have I ever mentioned Luther Bates to you?” She nodded, but I was pretending to be fooling with my pie. I looked up and asked again, then quickly looked down again. I was loving it. She burned her mouth on the coffee trying to wash down pie. Now, a guy would have answered around the cherries and probably spit out some crust in the process, but not a girl. It wasn’t often that I got the chance to zing her, so I really relished it.

  “Yeah,” she finally said, “isn’t he that colored guy who stops in on his way through all the time? And you really are a creep you know?” I did know it.

  “Uh huh,” I said, “he was in tonight and was talking kind of peculiar.” So, I went on to tell her what he said and how worried he was a couple of weeks ago.

  “What exactly does he do?” she asked, and I told her how he ferries cars up from Memphis to KC and the 2 Cities in Oklahoma, and takes something else back to Memphis.

  “Why?” She wanted to know.

  “Because they got something in Memphis that they can sell in KC or Tulsa or Okie City, and likewise the other way.”

  She sat there picking at her pie for a few minutes, like she had something on her mind and couldn’t quite get a handle on it. Finally, she said, “ I don’t know what he’s haulin’ back and forth, but I don’t like the sound of it. Don’t get too close to him, remember, he’s just a gas customer and nothing else – maybe a good gas customer. For God’s sake don’t get involved. You hear me, boy. I’m dead serious, Brickey!”

  “But I like the guy, and I hate to see him all stressed out and talking scary.”

  She looked me in the eye and said, “He may be the nicest guy in the world, but I don’t like the sound of that setup. It smells like a fish market on a very hot day. You just watch your step little boy!”

  I hung my head and said, “Yes mother.” She whacked me on the top of my head with a spoon. She loved me – she couldn’t help herself.

  * * *

  The river party turned out to be both a success and a bust. It was a success for nearly everyone involved, and a bust for me. Right off the bat Mom and Brick laid down some rules that made the hosteeses’ rules look like kindergarten stuff.

  They laid a heavy load of responsibility on me. I didn’t mind breaking a few rules, which weren’t major rules. For instance, most female rules were motherly rules like don’t get caught out in the rain, don’t eat dirt, or don’t go out until you finish your homework. It seemed that most of them start with don’t. Mona’s rules were a little weightier, but Brick’s rules were semi-sacred. I rarely broke a Brick rule. We had an unspoken agreement in which he didn’t lay a lot of rules on me about growing up things like staying out late or an occasional beer.

  He was a stickler on the law, good grades, and the 10 commandments. That was one of the reasons that I was so uneasy about my former life as a criminal. One of them deals with stealing, but I’m not sure which one it was. I always felt that I was letting him down, and it bothered me. I had always figured that he didn’t lay down a lot of rules so that I wouldn’t feel compelled to break them.

  Anyway, this party was supposed to be safe, mostly sober, and decent at least until my sister went home. No one, absolutely no one, was to be on the bluff path, drunk or sober, daylight or dark. The path was just too dangerous, so all traffic from the cabin to the river had to go by the round about way – that was acceptable. It meant going about 100 yards around as apposed to 25 yards straight down.

  I went out about 2 o’clock to block off the bluff path and gather firewood for the bond fire. Things weren’t supposed to get cranked up until about 7. That would’ve given me plenty of time to take care of everything and still get back home and get ready. As it turned out I was able to get a barricade across the path and was gathering wood when the first car showed up. The next one was about 10 minutes behind it. By 3 o’clock, the river was full of kids, and food was being passed around, likewise cokes and
beer.

  Liz arrived at 3:30 to help get things ready, but turned around and went back to let Nan and Mack know that the party was on. She and Nan came right out; Mack was going to be a little late. Nan’s date was coming out separately, and I vowed that this time they would not get out of my sight.

  As it turned out, everyone had a great time except yours truly. I had no date, and there were no strays, plus I had to play host and cop. I had to make sure no one lost swimming suits or virginity. Also, there was the problem of who was capable of driving and who was not. So, I told them a little dumb-assed joke; if they laughed at it, they went into the river to sober up. There were always 2 or 3 guys ready and willing to dunk a drunk. One guy laughed at my joke, shook his head, and threw himself into the river.

  The weather was perfect for this kind of bash, unseasonably hot, as they would say on the news, 94 degrees and not a cloud in the sky. The sun was really beating down, so every one spent most of their time in the water. Everyone was having a ball. Some were even trying to dance to the music of some portable and car radios all tuned to the same station and cranked up.

  As it turned out, I didn’t have to worry about anyone falling off the bluff. No one wanted to climb the hill to the cabin, there was just no reason to go up there. The river was where everything was going on. The road went all the way up, but everyone parked at the bottom of the hill near the water.

  Mack showed up late as usual and with a girl from Seymour. He said he had met her in the shoe department – his first customer. I have no idea what her name was, but I’ll never forget her legs – they were fantastic. Anyway, he didn’t get there until after 6, which in reality was early. I was more than ready to turn the hosting duties over to him.

  He said that he wanted to get her wet first, I couldn’t fault him for that, and that he would be right back. That was the last I saw of him for over an hour. By the time he showed up, I had given up on finding a stray lass and had settled into the role of host/cop. As I looked around, I could see a lot of pink and sometimes red flesh. Some of these kids were going to be tender tomorrow. Well, that’s the price you pay for frolicking in the sun.