carlee - a thing of beauty
carlee in louisville part eighteen
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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