Mellow Side of FHH (Part 4)

I couldn't wait to get back to ask my sister some questions. I got all the way to the Hillary Regional Airport before I turned around and went to the Walmart. No sense wasting $4 a gallon gas on a second trip because I forgot to pick up the groceries. Plus, it was going to be hard enough explaining to ReeRee why the trip took so long.

I dropped off the groceries and headed over to my sister's house. When I got there, Tapp said she was over at mom's house. She was getting the place ready for company. It was mom's night to host a game of Upwards. Wine, snacks, card tables out and gameboards set up. Beth wasn't playing, that was for mom's age group of friends. Mom was still a little anemic from her last chemo treatment but, her hair was coming back in and her eyebrows.

By the time we'd finished setting up, the ladies were arriving, a couple with fancy red hats. I headed out the door with my sister.

"You must have found out something. What is it?"

"I'm not sure yet. You know how you said that FHH was quieter than usual and everybody seemed sleepy lately? I think I know why."

"Aging population?"

"Yeah, but why me?"

"Aging population and a gently rocking boat?"

"Okay, okay. I have a funny sister.

Her suspicions were interesting and incredible if they turned into fact. I'd have to do some digging.

The next morning I actually got up before noon, anxious to do a little snooping around. The first source of information from "who didn't pick up their dog's poop" to "who was sneaking around with who's wife," (Usually a failure to learn from his mistakes local realtor) in FHH is the Badman and Sons convenience store, breakfast stop and rumor control central.

There were three camera/satellite trucks in the parking lot from TV stations Little Rock. Network logos covered video cameras that were rolling aimed at talking heads highlighted by men holding large collapsible silver nylon light reflectors to remove shadows from the news anchors. We wouldn't want it to look like they had double chins. Wires were all over the parking lot and locals were caught slowly maneuvering among the mess trying to find a parking place.

Nancy Grace was running across the Dan Creek Road with an out-stretched microphone in her hands and almost got hit by a minivan coming up roller coaster hill just a little too fast. Behind her very close to the road was a large white helicopter marked up in CNN livery. As the enormous blades overhead slowed it looked as if they might hit the top of the sign with the Lions, Rotary, FFA and Chamber of Commerce plates on it welcoming one and all to Fairhaven Harbor.

Arkansas State Police and Van Halen County squad cars were at the gas pumps and troopers were walking out of the store with hot cups of coffee and Saran wrapped pastry. I saw Tool outside his FHH squad car, parked all the way back next to the propane refills talking to Mammie Talbert , the young FHH Harbinger and Highlights reporter/editor/chief bottle-washer. I don't know what Tool had just said but, Mammie noticeably frowned, her eyes widened and she threw the pencil right at his chest, point-blank range then stomped off.

"What was that about?" I asked.

"Mammie has eye problems," Tool said with a mischievous grin on one side of his mouth, "She couldn't see doing what I suggested. Good aim though. I'm glad I had my vest on."

Tool never fails to surprise me. One day its going to catch up with him. What also surprises me is that it hasn't already. His nickname is only coincidental to his last name: O'Toole.

"What's all this?" I waved one hand in the general direction of all the activity behind me.

"You haven't heard? Frankly, I figured I'd find you all mixed up in this after I got the first radio call on it this morning. Especially after I remembered that Kenda ran you out of her lab the other morning."

"You can't take a dump in this town..."

"You can but, there will discussion about your regularity, within the hour. You know, by the way, Herman Dollar is having some constipation problems lately."

"Do. You. See. The. Helicopter? This isn't Little Rock. This is da' Harbor."

"Yeah. Right. Kenda, her husband and the winnie-dog were all found dead this morning at their house. She didn't come in to work this morning and John couldn't get her on the phone. So, they sent me over on a welfare check. Bloody, bloody mess. All of them beaten to death with a Tom Watson Signature number 2 wood.

"Why didn't my sister say anything?"

"She took a vacation day. I asked the same thing: where the heck was she."

"She's probably still asleep. I better go over there and tell her."

"Well, keep what you know to yourself. The chief has already jumped my ass once about talking too much about the cases."

"Cases?"

"Oh, yeah. Her sister Kate was killed in her sleep last night too. Hit over the head with a Singer multi-stitch professional model sewing machine. Those babies are are almost 40 pounds. She never woke up. Still had a TV Guide in her hand. Strangest thing I ever saw. Except for the smashed in head, you'd have thought she fell asleep watching TV."

"Was the TV still on?"

"Ahh, I don't know. Yes I do. I would've noticed if it were on. It was off. I was in such a hurry. I didn't have time to think about it and then the state boys came in and starting putting up yellow tape."

"What's more important than a body with a smashed head?"

"Her brother. He's an accountant over at Community Services? Dead too. Smashed in the head with an external hard drive. His wife smothered with a pillow and the murderer shot their beautiful blue Brazilian parrot with a large caliber handgun. It was still in its cage. Nothing but a basket of feathers now."

I watched a brand new FHH marked police Dodge Charger come squelling into the parking lot. The chief jumped out of the car, looked around and saw Tool.

"Well, good luck. I'm out of here."

I knew where their conversation was going to go. I didn't see the need to hang around for that one. I heard Tool as I was leaving, obviously responding to something the chief said to him. His voice went up an octave,"I didn't tell him about the cat!"

I started over to my sister's house to break he bad news about her co-worker just as another news helicopter began circling over the may lay.

#@!%*^%# Deer and Ungrateful Turtles

To begin with, I'd like to make it clear that I'm an animal lover......always have been. I can't stand to see any animal hurt. When I pass roadkill, I always say "god bless it's little heart". I can't stand to watch the movie King Kong cause he gets killed and I have no way of punishing the people responsible.

I'm ashamed to say that I'm one of those stupid people that swerve to avoid hitting an animal in the road. And I've always said that when people encroach on wildlife habitat; then we just have to learn to deal with the consequences.....cause the animals were here first. With this attitude, it should be obvious whose side I was on in the ongoing discussion of a controlled Deer hunt in FHH. Also, the idea of wild, redneck hunters roaming our community was pretty scary.

By now, you may be wondering "Where is she going with this?" Well, don't split your britches, I'm getting there.

The abundance of rain this year truly has had spring bursting out all over the city of FHH. I missed springtime last year having arrived in FHH in July. So, I have been thoroughly enjoying, delighting in all the rampant growth and flowering going on in my yard. Every morning, on my way to get my paper, I have paused on my front porch and admired the size of my hostas, the crowded blooming of the azaleas and noted the huge number of buds developing on the day lilies. Even though I had nothing to do with the planting of these amazing specimens of Mother Nature; I was taking a great deal of pride in being the owner of them now.

I stepped out on my porch last week and my attention was immediately drawn to the fact that two of the day lily buds had bloomed. They were gorgeous. But, as I was admiring them, my brain started screaming "ALERT ALERT .......Something is wrong here!" And it registered! My big, beautiful hostas were NUBS! What was left looked like a bouquet of celery stalks. The shock took my legs out from under me and I landed with a plop on the top step with enough force to jar my spine. I was in disbelief. After some of the shock passed and my brain reengaged....I examined the ground of the flower bed looking for evidence.......... and there it was..... DEER track!

I got pissed. I literally saw red! In the blink of an eye I went from "Save the deer. They were here first. To, kill them, kill them all!" "They ate my hostas and deserve to die." I sat down on the steps and spent the next few minutes trying to determine just what kind of trap I could use to catch them suckers and punish their butts for eating my plants. Plotting revenge always calm me down. Finally, I found I was laughing at myself for being such a hypocrite. As long as it was someone else's garden......but the minute it became mine; all my bloodthirsty tendencies jumped front and center. The last bit of steam evaporated with the memory of a well known adage "Pride always goeth before a fall".

It took a couple of days for me to get some deer repellent and in that time the #@!%*^%# deer ate every single bud on all of my lily plants. In the back of my mind, faintly, I heard "kill them, kill them all!" Now, when I walk out to get my paper my nose is bombarded by the rankest smell I've ever smelled next to that brown catfish bait my Daddy kept in his tackle box. I guess I just have to learn to deal with it!

Let's briefly discuss my encounter with a truly ungratefully rude box turtle. In the last few weeks I have found myself rescuing turtles. I'm not sure what the turtles are up to, migrating? Looking for love in all the wrong places? I keep finding them right smack dab in the middle of the road. What? They get to the center and suddenly are overcome by terror......or are they really attracted to the color yellow. They're all on the center line and all but one closed up in their shell. Plus, all have been in a curve with nowhere to pull over close by.

My aforementioned love of animals precludes me leaving their butt there and driving on. I'm compelled to rescue them. I know if I leave them, the very next car will smush them flat. I will feel tremendous amounts of guilt when I come back from my errand and see them with their little guts all over the center line.

Now, anyone who knows me, knows I can't walk more than 15 - 20 feet without becoming so short of breath that I have stop and rest. So, pulling up somewhere beyond the curve and walking back for these guys isn't an option in my mind. So I've developed a rescue technique I call the slow roll and snatch. My first try didn't go so well. I missed my snatch and ended up just stopping and hopping out to get him. The whole time hoping no one came barreling into that curve; smacking me in the rear end. I'm sure my explanation that I'm saving a turtle wouldn't go very far as an excuse.

But, I've improved with each subsequent try. I no longer look up to find myself headed straight for the ditch and I can go a little faster than 10 mph. My last rescue occurred yesterday. I passed him up at first cause I was on 16, doing about 50 with a car right behind me. Not enough time to slow down. A little ways down the road I found a place to pull over and turn around.

As I got closer, I could see this guy wasn't all tucked up in his shell. He had his head out with his neck stretched as far as it would go. I figured he was trying to get up the nerve to make a run for it. I took a glance behind me......no cars and a glance in front of me.....no cars. I slowed down, popped the door and snatched him up as I rolled by. I tossed him into the passenger seat and decided I would take him back to where I turned around. I could get him a long way from the road there.

I kinda thought all the activity would push him into his shell, but when I glanced over, he was headed for the edge of the seat. I gave him a little thump on his shell and picked him up to move him back on the seat. I thought that would cause him to draw up in his shell. No, it didn't! He hissed at me. The only turtle that has ever hissed at me was a snapping turtle and this wasn't a snapping turtle. So, Okay, this guy has an attitude. I put him over on my leg and held him there. Got myself turned around and headed for the drop off spot.

This guy was wriggling with all four legs flailing. On top of that he was staring me down and hissing. So, I'm thinking "How cute" and "you're a feisty little guy". And he then proceeds to pee all over my leg. It was a nice greenish yellow and there was quite a bit of it. While I'm scolding him and explaining how grateful he should feel, he lets go again. I'm amazed at the amount of pee he had in him. Luckily for him we got to the drop off spot. I was sorely tempted to drop him off on his little head. I controlled myself. He took off with all due turtle speed as soon as his feet hit the ground.

Ungrateful turtles really tick me off!

Mellow Side of FHH (Part 3)

I needed to make a run to Walmart anyway. The county offices are on the other side of Hillary in the old part of the town but, that's only about a mile. I decided to stop at the Van Hallen County offices first because I was going to get some milk and frozen food at the store.

Sally Zipple has been the Records Clerk for 14 years. She is a nice looking, full spectacled lady, who apparently doesn't get out much. "I'm been working here since I got out of high school. I took over when my mother retired and you're only the second person to ask to see county records."

"Who was the other?" I shoudn't have asked.

"Judge Bobby Pritcher. He died from a fishing accident he was in. The night after he got me to fetch him the sheriff's closed investigation on cock-fighting. The one in back of the Hillary Plumbing Supply and Beauty School two years ago."

"Plumbing and Beauty....? Never mind."

"Oh, it was a mess, blood everywhere. I don't mean Judge Pritcher, that was just a Number 2 hook in his right thumb: the cock-fighting."

"The judge died from a fish-hook?"

"Oh, yeah. The Medical Examiner ruled it a suicide but, don't nobody think so."

"They don't?"

"No, no. It was a homocide."

"A homicide?"

"Oh no, everyone knew Judge Pritcher was gay. My Gawd, he wore a pink shirt under his robes."

"A fish-ho...."

"Got infected, went into the hospital and then got himself a staph infection."

"How is that suicide?" I knew I was going to regret asking. Now I know what a deer caught in headlights feels like. I couldn't make myself move.

"Oh, it was while the sheriff was in his hospital room talking to him. He even brought flowers. Judge Pritcher grabbed the sheriff's pistol and shot himself three times. Twice in the head."

"Why did the sheriff close the case on the cock-fighting in the first place?"

"Caus' he was running it is why. Makes no sense to arrest yourself, silly."

"Does the sheriff have anything to do with the wastewater plant in Fairhaven Harbor?"

"Oh, no! Daddy retired after that. Besides, no one over here has anything to do with them over there. They's all yankees or rich."

"I'm not a yankee or rich and I live over there."

Sally took off her glasses, shook out her hair and casually untied the top of her blouse. "You got a boat? I love boats. I'd do anything to get a ride on a boat."

I couldn't help but say it out loud, "You don't get out much, do you?"

"Not at all, honey. Between working all day and taking care of daddy at night, he's got that alls-highmers.... What's a lonely girl to do?"

"Do you have any records on the FHH Utilities District."

"Sure, baby. I got annual audits, state compliance records, applications for federal grants and a hugh new file on corporate sponsorship on a double-blind study on community safety and utilization of public utilities."

"That last one. Can I see it?"

"What's worth to you, sweety?"

"Ah, what do you want?"

"I want a lot but I'll settle for a boat ride. At night. Just me and you big boy."

"Let me see the records first." I spent the next two hours combing through them. It was very interesting. Confusing at first but, soon the legalese and double-speak began to make sense. This was big. Really big."

"Well," asked Sally,"was it worth it?"

"You got your boat ride, Sally.... Say, you don't own a Mustang do you?"

"Yes, I do. A two-tone cherry red and white 1967 convertible, with white leather pony interior" her smile was as wide as Texas and she had all of her teeth.

This was worth a ride.

Mellow Side of FHH (Part 2)

That was some nap. I slept until it was time to go to bed but, of course, now I'm awake.

I headed out for the lake. The moon was full and sky bright with stars. The lake was dead calm: just like I like it at night. I saw only one boat on the lake, a fishing boat off in t he distance, its green light to me. It looked like it was headed home for the night, in a hurry.

I shut my old pontoon boat down in the middle of the lake, just shy of Sugarbread Mountain, and let it drift. I could see the rock cliffs on the lea side near the top of the island. I had climbed Sugarbread on the Corp of Engineer path dozens of times since my teens. I had even seen the tops of C-130 cargo planes from nearby Little Rock AFB as they flew in threes on low-level manuvuers just above the lake while I watched from above on those same cliffs.

My dad used to scare my kids half-to-death with scary stories about the Eye in the Lake, which was supposedly seen by skinny dipping teenagers one night, like this one, many years before. Authorities had found their boat adrift near this very spot early the next morning but, the bodies of the four Laverne High School students were never found. However, one of the boy's Letter-jackets was picked up weeks later washed up on Sugarbread. It had two slashes in the back and not a small amount of dried blood on it.

I was laying on my back on the deck looking straight up at the stars and suddenly thought, why did you need to analyze DNA to monitor wastewater. The answer was: you don't.

It sure seemed everyone was sleepy in town, including me. I know FHH is a sleepy town but, hell. I've been to really sleepy towns. FHH was Gotham City city compared with some. I was in Yazoo City, Mississippi on a really muggy summer day when I had to brake had to avoid hitting a dog chasing a cat across the street. They were both walking.

Then there is the anxiousness of some the utility and city workers that is pretty unusual for FHH. It seemed like they were trying to keep a secret and paranoid about it. You can't keep a secret in FHH. Everyone knows everyone else's business. I could fart under my blankets in bed late at night and get remarks about it from various customers during breakfast the next morning at Badman and Sons.

I don't believe in coincident. Something was happening in FHH. I guess I had put my cop-hat back on without realizing it.

With those thoughts in my head and the water lapping against the gently rocking pontoons, I drifted off.

I woke with the sun in my eyes, the boat up bumping up on tree stumps off of Sugarbread and stiff wind which was making whitecaps on the lake. Maybe it was time to head home before my wife had the Van Hallen Sheriff's Office out dragging the lake for my body while she rummaged through the file cabinet looking for my will.

When I got back to my slip at the FHH Marina my sister laying out on my deck box smoking a cigarette, "I thought you quit smoking."

"You fall asleep out in the middle of the lake again?"

"Yeah. I'm on vacation."

"Where'd you end up this time?" as she blew a column of smoke straight up, emptying her lungs.

"Sugarbread"

"Well, at least the lake patrol didn't have to get you to move out of the middle of the Narrows because you were a hazard to navigation this time."

"ReeRee call you?"

"Yeah, I told her you were alright. She was in no shape to drive. I told her I'd come down and look for you."

"You didn't look very hard."

"I found you, didn't I?"

"Is she okay?"

"I think so. Is March 2007 your most recent will?"

I figured I owed her breakfast anyway. We went to Badman and Sons, ordered some eggs and sat down in our usual booth.

Trixie, the owner came by and cleaned the table, "You fall asleep on the boat again?"

I didn't feel like responding but she wasn't going to let it drop, "Why don't you just go on down to Share and Wear, get you a bed, mattress, linen and a pillow and just put them on the damn boat for sweet-potatoe's sake."

"And why don't you drop that rag, let down your hair and give me that table-dance you've been promising me for 5 years now. I got a wallet full on singles on me."

"You wish," she kept on cleaning.

"Yeah, I wish you'd put up or shut up."

"I'm going to tell your mother."

"Her number is 448-3597. Here, use my phone. I'll speed dial it for you."

"I thought you quit smoking, baby," looking at Beth and evidently finished with our conversation.

"I have. Tapp's brother is still a pack or two a day. It's tough holding your resolve. Lately I just feel like sitting around, watching anything on TV and puffing on a Winston.

"I thought it was just age, but its tough getting up in morning to open up the place lately."

"I know. Same here. But, you know, nothings going on at all around here."

"Well, thats sure to change now that your weisenheimer brother is in town. A house or something will burn down."

I silently decided it was time to mossy over to the county seat, Hillary, and check out a few public records. Maybe tomorrow. Right now I guess I need to have it explained to me why I should have taken my cellphone with me when I went off on the boat. Even if I am on vacation.

Mellow Side of FHH (Part 1)

I called my sister Beth one evening while I was on vacation in FHH. Tapp said she was still at work. I dropped by the FHH Utilities office and found her at her desk. All the guys were long gone home. However, Kenda was there, working late too, in the lab.

"Hey, what you were doing here?" Beth said as I strolled in from the hallway.

“Oh, just messing around. Why here so late?”

"We have a lab audit on our wastewater treatment plant. Kenda's working on it now with the latest samples. I'm having to finish up the paperwork."

I wandered into the lab and couldn't help looking over Kenda’s shoulder. Kenda looked a little annoyed. I'd be cranky too working with cleaned-up stool samples.

Beth was busy, head in her paperwork and Kenda looked like she'd rather be at home watching Boston Legal. I couldn't help playing with the equipment in the lab. Some of it looked very much like Crime Lab forensic equipment. One was obviously a Spectral Analyzer. Another was centreffical sample seperator. The computer was set up for sub-microscopic comparative analysis. I could do a homicide investigation from there!

Long story short, (yeah, right) somebody was looking at DNA for some reason. Who'd thunk? Right here in da' Harbor.

"Why are ya'll looking at DNA samples?" I asked Kenda just out of curiosity.

"What makes you think that!" she jumped down my throat.

"Hey. Hey! I'm just asking."

"That's not what we're doing!"

"Who is we?"

"Look, I'm busy and you're not supposed to be here. I didn't say anything because of your sister. You need to leave."

"Tough night, eh?" I said as I backed out the door with my pointer fingers forming the sign of the cross.

"What was that about, brother?" my sister asked.

"Got me. I just asked about why she was looking at DNA samples."

"We have some kind of government grant to analyze wastewater that is going into the Corp of Engineers lake. I guess to make sure Freers Gerry is kept clean."

"But, DNA? Seems overkill."

"I don't know but, everyone does seem kind of sensitive about it. I'm not supposed to talk about it outside the office. All I know is it's a lot of paperwork, charts, graphs, spreadsheets - a big headache. I could be at home watching Boston Legal."

I went home and watched the last half hour of Boston Legal. Denny Crane!

The next day I met mom, Beth and Tapp at Badman and Sons for lunch.

"How'd you like Boston Legal last night? Denny Crane cracks me up!"

"I didn't see it. I was in the office until eleven," said Beth.

"I never though William Shatner would shake the Captain Kirk image," said Tapp.

Mom said, "I never watch Baltimore Legal, it comes on during Law and Order."

"Law and Order is on all-the-time on different channels, and it's Boston Legal mom. It's like Fresh Prince, its on somewhere 24 hours a day. Captain Kirk is now Denny Crane."

"Who's Captain Kirk? Is he on Special Victims Unit or Criminal Intent?" remarked mom. I'm not sure if she was kidding or not.

"It's awful slow around here lately. No shootings, no house fires, no Meth labs - what's up?" I asked, only half kidding. Even Officer Tool wasn't at our table, mooching fries. He was in the back booth sound asleep, back to the wall, sitting there with two fingers through the handle of his FHH Marina coffee mug.

"It has been pretty quiet around here for a while but, you haven't been around since last summer," said my mom, like it was some established, generally known fact that things only went haywire when I was around. I like to think that its just that I happen to notice.

"You know, it has been more sedate than usual lately," Beth threw in.

"All I feel like doing is sleeping," said Tapp, "but it could be that I'm recovering from my shoulder surgery."

"Now that you mention it - police calls are down. So are ambulance calls. Must just be one of those years. It's sure helped the city budget though. We thought we were going to have a huge shortfall and now it looks like we'll have a little surplus at the end of the year. Go figure."

"Good Karma." Said Tapp.

"Not likely, the way the mayor and council are acting. They're grouchy all the time and practically jump anyone who comes in and asks a routine question. Very defensive," said Beth.

I was about to nod off myself, "Maybe its just a coincidence. Wait a minute! I don't believe in coincidences."

"What do you think's going on?"

"I don't know. I think I'll go home and take a nap."