i cried and cried as they led mr. anderson away, to the black and
white and pushed him in the back seat. "you god damn son's of a
mutherfuckin' bitch!" he yelled. and then some other stuff. his
face was bright red, and i knew they had either said something, or did
something to him to get him started. as they drove away, the man he
called "fast eddy" put his arms around me.
"please don't worry miss carlee, pork pie can take care of
himself."
i sniffed. "oh, i know he can fast eddy, i'm just scared."
"please miss, come over to the bar, let me get you a kleenex
and maybe a beer." that was so nice of fast eddy.
"could i have some peanuts too?"
"of course you can dear."
i blew my nose, and opened the salted peanuts. fast eddy brought me
a draught beer. "this is more suiting a lady," he said.
ladies rarely drink beer and eat pickled pigs' feet in pool rooms, i
thought. but fast eddy's remark was quite flattering. he was a nice
man. the peanuts were delicious, but how could i sit here though, with
mr. anderson in so much trouble. a punk poked my in the ribs.
"why'd they arrest your father bitch? i hope to hell it had to
do with that race he fixed in florida, i lost a bundle on it."
"watch yourself raymond!"
"oh, fuck you red."
"lawrence, eugene!!" fast eddy hollared.
"we don't need them fast eddy, i can swing a pool cue as fast
as anyone, and i never miss!" i shouted.
"you talk pretty big lady."
"you haff problems?" lawrence said, with a very thick
accent.
"no buddy, i ain't got none, in fact i was just going home."
"good cus i were gettin' ready to mops the floors, and i needs
a new mops." as punk turned to leave, lawrence grabbed him by the
back of his black leather jacket and pasted him so hard on the chin,
that it swirled him onto a pool table.
"hey man, i said i was leaving!" punk hollared.
"nots soon enough fer me." lawrence replied.
god, i drank the rest of my beer, and cracked a few more peanuts. i
didn't realize fast eddy was 'red', and the crack that punk made about
florida made me realize that may be the reason for the federal guy,
the race was out of state. i had to go home, i had to think and i had
to get mr. anderson out of jail as early as possible. i thanked red
for the beer and left the pool room. mr. anderson's lincoln drove like
a bus. it took me more than five minutes to figure out where the
lights were. i parked on magnolia street and walked over to the park.
i sat on a bench in the dark with a zillion thoughts running through
my mind. so much trouble, so damn much trouble. i didn't intend to get
so deep in shit when i came to louisville. i just wanted to start a
new life, and independent life, work, and sleep, and eat, go out every
now and then, there were books to read, movies to see. i didn't want
all this trouble. i needed to go home, get up early, cash mr.
anderson's check and see about getting him out of jail before he got
himself in real trouble.
i was exhausted, sleep came easy. i set my alarm for early, and was
sitting in the mayflower chair, sipping, and trying to get my eyes
open. someone knocked at my door.
"can i come in?" it was carie. i was in my panties with a
yellow tee shirt on that said "sexy", i let her in. she
hugged me tightly.
"i've missed you sexy." i smiled.
"coffee?"
"sure." carie was a sight for sore eyes. she was wearing
a pink dress and just looked great. "have i missed any excitment?"
she asked.
"a little, and i'm glad you're back carie." she kissed me
then sat on the edge of the bed.
"now tell me all about it." she smiled as she drank her
coffee.
"well, i lost a half a million dollars, our friend lissell was
almost killed at st. james, i was in a fight at 'red's' pool room, my
friend was arrested, and i have to cash a check for $5,000 this
morning to get him out. i didn't mention captain zimmerman. just the
usual stuff."
"oh carlee, you just won't do," she said. "god, i
can't leave town for even a few days. what about leroy?"
"he's in jail for the moment, a guy from school came forward
and told the police in bowling green that another guy told him that he
saw leroy kill hazel, there are also some reports of eye witnesses in
new jersey, about starlynne."
"wow! he'll have a tough time beating this rap."
"lissell got her throat cut and wound up on a ventilator after
i broke back into leroy's apartment to return some evidence, it was
awful carie."
"has anyone accused you of having a dull life lately carlee?"
this remark made me feel good, i smiled. "can i help you get your
friend out of jail?"
"sure, let me brush my teeth and put some clothes on." i
suppose that carie was my best friend. she never let me down, she had
her problems, but who doesn't, but i could count on her. i guzzled
another cup of coffee and dressed. i put on a rather simple white
dress and heels, brushed my hair and was ready to go.
"carlee, can i sleep here tonight, with you?"
"sure, angel, i've missed you." we sounded like a couple
of horses going to mr. anderson's car, heels clicking on the concrete.
"some car, rather large." she said.
"yeah, rather." i smiled.
"drive over to sidney's, and we'll take his class to school."
i fired up the big lincoln, and its sound was reminiscent of a school
bus. i headed for my bank. it was 8:30 in the morning. we got there a
little before 9:00, it hadn't opened yet. we stopped at the drive in
window.
"yes. can i help you?" a raspy voice asked.
"yes ma'me, i'd like to cash a check." i said, as i waved
it at her.
"do you have an account here?"
"yes, the deposit slip is filled out."
"pass it through." she said as she opened the window.
"she's not very nice carlee." carie stated.
"i know carie, i wish mrs. jenson was working."
"this is quite a large check." she frowned.
"our tail sells high." i replied. carie nudged me in the
ribs.
she looked daggers at me, and said "i'll have to consult my
supervisor miss," then closed the window.
"we should have gone inside carlee."
"old bitch, if mrs. jenson was here we would already have the
money." i had already told carie about mr. anderson. an old man
appeared at the window, he looked as distasteful as the lady.
"do you have a problem miss mccord?"
"yes sir, i came for a simple bank transaction, i needed my
money five minutes ago and am still waiting. that's the problem."
"the check is large."
"what the fuck's going on up there lady, you taking out a god
damn loan or something!!" the guy behind me yelled.
i stuck my head out of the window and hollared to him, "they
won't give me my money!"
"sons of bitches!" he continued. i smiled. the old bitch
came and whispered something in the old man's ear.
"what denominations do you wish this to be in miss mccord?"
"catholic and...." oh, this was useless, these were no
people to joke with. and poor mr. anderson was probably sweating in
jail, blood pressure 200 over 120 and probably eating green eggs and
ham. "they don't make a five thousand dollar bills do they?"
"no ma'me, we don't."
"is change a consideration?"
"i don't believe you and your friend could lift it ma'me."
"are euro bucks available?"
"not in the united states miss mccord."
"then, whatever in the hell's convenient with you, i don't
care." god, what an ordeal. shortly, a security guard appeared
from around the corner. my friend behind me was putting his banking in
the tube next to me. he was carrying four manila folders and was
smiling.
"you've made my day miss." he said. lovette was written
on his name tag.
"see my lover at the big red mile, mr. lovette, he may find
more suitable work for you."
"pork pie?" he asked.
"that's correct, laverne p.p. anderson." i answered, and
winked at him. he was cute.
"carlee, carlee, you're insane sometimes." carie said. i
laughed. we both did. she opened one of the envelopes. "god, what
a wad of cash, we should just drive on to mexico." not a bad
idea, i thought. it can't be much crazier there than it is here.
"i've always wanted to see the donkey fucks in mexico."
"the donkey fucks?"
"yeah, they're quite illegal, but when dad and i went to
tiajuana, a small boy at the border told me all about them, he also
wanted to sell me his virgin mother and sister, exciting place."
i said.
"sounds so." carie replied.
when we reached the city jail, carrie and i split up the manila
folders, two apiece, and headed for the front desk. the receptionist
was a sergeant with short gray hair, his name was oglesby. "may i
help you?" he asked.
"yes, we're here to...."
"carlee?" a familiar voice sounded. it was mr. schelmile.
"sam?" i said.
"what are you doing here dear?"
"we came about mr. anderson." i said.
sam pulled us aside, and whispered "i bailed laverne out
before seven am. carlee, if you need to see him, he's at his office at
the red mile."
"is he all right sam?"
"his blood pressure went very high during the night, they
called me and i got his medicine and have been here since two in the
morning."
"did he sleep?"
"only for moments. and by the by, they moved lissell to a
private room this morning, she's much better."
"thanks sam, oh, have you met my friend carie."
"charmed." he nodded. he said, "carlee has pretty
friends, you especially, miss carie." carie blushed, and i told
sam that we had to go, and thanked him for taking care of my friend. "laverne
is the exception carie, he's not so pretty." sam said.
in the lincoln, i asked carie if she would visit with andy and
nikki while i talked with mr. anderson for about an hour. she told me
that she'd love to, so i drove to the store. both andy and nikki were
outside sitting on the bench. "nice can, peaches." andy
said.
"movin' up in the world sweet, how are you both?"
"we're great carlee, it's really going to be rough when nikki
leaves." i smiled, i knew he loved her so.
"this is my good friend and neighbor carie, she's going to
catch up on the news with you guys while i run a errand, if that's
alright."
"of course it is, carlee." i got out long enough to hug
nikki, what a beautiful little girl. the red mile parking lot was
almost empty, an off day for racing. i clomped through the ticket
booth, to the paddock.
"anybody home?" i shouted.
"in here baby." pork pie had the same clothes on that he
wore last night. he was hunched over a keyboard typing to beat the
band. "be just a minute angel." he replied, in a gravelly
voice. cigar smoke surrounded him, it smelled awful. i waited. he got
up and came and hugged me.
"carlee, carlee, this is your lucky day."he laughed, as
he kissed my forehead.
"i came to get you out of jail this morning pork, mr.
schlemile told me where you were."
"weisman." he said. "sam weisman."
"he told me his name was schlemile."
"shit no, he is a schlemile, but his last name is weisman, the
bail bondsman."
"anyway, he told me where you were." and i laid the four
manilla folders of money on mr. anderson's desk.
"what the fuck's that?"
"the five thousand dollars that i brought to bail you out,
pork pie." he laughed and laughed, until his belly shook.
"oh, little one, you are precious, did you know that?" i
was silent. "they were glad to let me out carlee, would have paid
five Gs to be rid of me i raised so much hell. the money's yours
angel, spend it in good health."
"you're not in trouble pork?" i asked, seriously.
"not in any more than's usual. carlee, the jockey is the one
in trouble, he's the person who threw the race. no matter if he was
paid a hundred thou by the mafia, he was the one who lagged or held
back. he could have walked the damn horse around the track if he
wanted, he would have surely lost, but this son-of-a-bitch decided to
pull him back in the stretch, pretty stupid."
"then why did they arrest you?" i asked.
"they always do, trying to scare me, but it will take a hell a
lot more than those two punks to scare pork pie anderson." i
didn't tell mr. anderson that mr. schlemile--weisman--had told me
about his blood pressure. he would never want me to think he was ever
scared. i hugged his neck. he smiled. "now, would you like for me
to tell you why this is your lucky day?"
"i suppose because you're out of jail and not in trouble."
i replied. he kissed my cheek and smiled.
"nope, 'cause i got to rid myself of andy's baby, and you're
the new owner." i was shocked.
"you can't give me your horse pork." i said.
"not giving, selling. now poke your pretty hand in one of them
there folders and hand me a bill or two."
"i can't do that pork pie!"
"you have to girl, so i can finish typing the transfer papers."
"i love andy's babe, i kiss his picture, but i don't know
anything about real horses, how would i take care of him?"
"you remember mr. ed?"
"no, i've never heard of him."
"he lived behind his master's house."
"pork, i don't even have a house."
"well, let me put it this way, even if we take him to the glue
factory, one thing remains, i have to get him out of my name, i've
been down this road before, that's the first things my lawyers tell
me. so, if i don't sell him to you, i have other friends."
"pork pie anderson, that's the cruellest thing i've ever
heard, i can't believe you."
"then give me the damn money, and save the horse's life!"
"you said he was special."
"yeah, and so am i."
i was frightfully angry with pork, but i also understood. i
supposed that if andy's babe was no longer legally his, the incident
in florida would be soon forgotten. i pulled two one hundred dollar
bills from a folder and handed them to him. pork pie jerked the
document from the printer and pointed to a line. "sign here."
he said. for an undisclosed amount, i read. i signed. "great.
tex!!" he hollared.
"god damn pork pie, i'm not deaf yet!" tex returned his
volley.
"take this document over to maxwell at the court house and
tell him to make it official." pork was sweating, i felt like i
had done right. tex was tall and skinny, tight levis, starched plaid
shirt and pointee cowboy boots. his adam's apple stuck out. he took
the document and left.
"laverne anderson?" a man who looked like a truck driver
asked.
"you're looking at him."
"i brought you a present from florida." pork pie walked
to the door.
"hmmmm." he said.
"charlie said you would get me a ride back to miami."
"the hell he did! who are you anyway?"
"name's chapman, elwood chapman."
"well elwood, i could kick your ass back to miami, or you
could go in there and call that motherfucker up on the phone and tell
him that you want a better way home." i ran to the door. there
was a huge rig, semi cab, and a red horse trailer behind. andy's babe
was in the back.
"ma'me." elwood said. i went to andy's babe and hugged
him around the neck. i kissed his nose.
"hi there." i said. he was soft, and looked so sweet. he
was a special horse.
"by the way sweetheart, the rig was part of the deal too.
drive him to magnolia street until i can figure what to do."
"i can't drive that thing pork pie."
"why sure you can angel, don't steer no worse that my old
lincoln."
"pork pie!"
"you have to do it baby, i need the lincoln, and andy's babe
needs to hide out for a day or two."
"god, does this thing have an automatic transmission?"
"hell if i know, but we'll take a look see."
"well, it's a straight stick, but it has only eight gears and
grandma, almost as simple as what your ma taught you to drive in."
"my mother didn't teach me to drive pork, she didn't even
drive herself, no i just can't do it."
"simmer down now, simmer down, i'll teach you." pork
lifted me up to the front seat, and began showing me the gear
sequence. i didn't even know what a clutch was. he explained that i
probably wouldn't even have to shift out of fourth gear in downtown
louisville. great, i didn't do well in my oldsmobile in downtown
louisville, i didn't even walk well downtown. "and if you get
hung up on a hill, just throw her in grandma, it'll pull the chrome
off a 65 mack truck."
i drove around the park lot, raking gears and slipping the clutch,
i couldn't believe i was doing this. andy's babe was in the back,
crying.
"now angel, let's try backing up." he showed me how to
position the stick, how to just ease off the clutch. the entire rig
jerked and bucked so heavily, i was sure the poor horse would be
thrown out. "try that one again carlee, only this time with
feeling."
"pork, i'm just not a truck driver, now let's stop this."
mr. anderson reached deep in his pocket.
"now give me your left arm baby." he licked my bicep and
placed a piece of paper on it. he held it tightly.
"what in the hell is this!" i exclaimed.
"just wait now." he answered. he lifted the wet paper,
and low and behold, a tattoo "born to be a trucker, motherfucker."
appeared.
"oh, great, this is all i need."
"think like a trucker carlee, you can do this for me, i know
you can girl." he was as full of shit as my christmas turkey, but
i felt that he was serious about me taking the rig away from here. i
tried harder, and i did better, andy's babe was even calming down.
within an hour, i was seasoned. i even learned to use grandma, a
gear reserved for the deepest grinding, it really would suck the
chrome off a '65 mack. tex appeared and whispered something in mr.
anderson's ear. "ah, you about ready to drive off into the sunset
with this carlee? it's kind of important."
"is there enough horse feed back there?"i asked.
"oh, more than enough angel. check the boy's water tonight,
wouldn't want him to get thirsty. now git!" mr. anderson jumped
out, and i got. as i left the parking lot, with my new tractor and
trailor and horse, i met four police cars turning in. god, just in
time. i thought.
the city was difficult to navigate in a semi, even for a born to be
a trucker, motherfucker. my heels didn't help. i really thought you
had to have a special license to drive an 18 wheeler, but maybe not. i
hit every fucking stop light in town, belkens was at least another
mile ahead. the traffic was terrible, but, with each passing stop
light, i was getting closer. god, this rig would take up magnolia
street. a cop evil eyed me from another lane when i was almost there,
but i believe my tattoo changed his mind. finally. i pulled up in
front of the store. looking back at andy's babe, i asked "are you
all right boy?" horse silence.
"my god in heaven!!" carie contributed.
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