carlee - a thing of beauty
carlee and harriet at halloween part five
in the thirty mile trip to our lunch date at the moonlite, we try to calm ourselves. i have to, i tell myself, for dad's sake. i have to appear normal, i will appear normal. i try to joke and chat with harriet. i try to be like two friends, travelling on an ordinary day, in an ordinary way, to an ordinary dinner date. the scars of fear are too recent, anyway, to hurt me: if you cut yourself or burn yourself it takes a moment for the pain to kick in. it is the same with this: what happened back there was too powerful, too difficult to understand, and as i retreat from the scene a curious calm overtakes me. i glance out at the passing scenery.

"remind you of home, love?" i ask.

"hardly." she smiles forcedly. she is happy to have something mundane to talk about, something which doesn't require thought. "i know that's corn, but what's the other crop, over there, and there?"

"soy beans. they're a versatile crop, i ate a steak, once, made from them, the bone was artificial, and it tasted great. they told me that the steak cost $275.00 to make though, a little steep."

"christ, you could buy a whole cow for that."

i laugh. "we'll go past a processing plant on our way to the restaurant." owensboro is either the third or fourth largest city in the state: since it and paducah are so close in population, one wins the title one year and the other the next. the soy bean processing plant lies on the bank of the ohio river, and is one of the largest in the world; accordingly, you can smell it many blocks away.

"doesn't smell like soy sauce." harriet says, sniffing the air.

"nor like a t-bone. told you it was versatile."

the moonlite barbeque is on parrish avenue. the usual sro crowd is there to feast on the buffet, but through the crowd i spy dad and mikey, standing near the entrance. mikey is smoking. "hi guys." i say. they look striking in their gray and blue suits. "you didn't tell us this was formal."

dad smiles. "mikey, please meet miss harriet scott, carlee's friend from england." dad appears to be taken with harriet; i can tell, because he is proud to introduce her, and he smiles a lot.

mikey shakes her hand. "i hope you're enjoying america, my dear."

"oh, i am, sir, every minute of it." harriet and i exchange a glance. up until the last hour, anyway, we communicate to one another silently.

"general mccord?" dad looks up. "your table is ready."

"great, come on gang." we head for the smoking area. "carlee smokes, bill."

"only after sex." i smile, and so does harriet.

"well girls, do you want to order, or try the buffet?"

"oh, carlee, will you just order for me, i don't know anything about sheepmeat." harriet says, scanning the menu with a confused look on her face. the guys want buffet, so i take the menu from her and start to study it.

"your order please," a stuffy waiter says.

"is it stat?" i answer.

"no ma'me, but as you can see, we're quite busy."

"you're always busy, wolfgang." i say, as i lite a cigarette. "we've traveled over three thousand miles for this meal buddy, and we won't be rushed. and we want another fucking waiter."

"i should throw you asses out of here, miss smarty pants."

"you and who fucking else!!" i exclaim, rising to my feet.

"carlee, you're acting worse than mr. anderson would," harriet whispers. "we came to eat, ok?"

the waiter walks away like a scalded puppy, hurt, offended and confused. "you go, girl!" says a lady at a table nearby. they are all wearing harley jackets, covered with tattoos and piercings. they are drinking beer and are disgustingly loud, their voices getting louder by the moment. i sit down rather quickly, not wanting to create a scene.

"i'm sorry, harriet, i really am."

"it's ok babe, really. you're just on edge. now tell me what to order."

again, i take comfort in everyday things, using them to free my mind of the horrible thoughts from earlier. "oh, harriet, you have to try everything. do the chopped mutton, some barbequed chicken, barbequed beans, potato salad, burgoo, ham, a slice of vadelia onion and a piece of strawberry pie. i'm having the same."

"do you think that's enough?"

"i'd hope so. you're going to need two hollow legs to fit this lot in." i smile.

dad and mikey don't do much better. they have a half a chicken apiece, sliced mutton, tossed salad with blue cheese, burgoo and what looks like a quail. we eat heartily, four people chomping in unison.

"this is so good." harriet says. "i never dreamed."

"this place has been in business for over eighty years, and it's won many achievement awards."

"it is certainly excellent food." harriet says.

after our pig out, the last bite of strawberry pie eaten and the remains of the unsweetened ice tea downed, we sit there, completely stuffed, content and quiet.

"carlee, let me bum a cigarette, baby." mikey says. i hand him one and take one myself. mikey lites his and inhales deeply. "god, i can't remember, was sex better than this bill?"

"the meal or the cigarette, mikey?"

"shit, the meal, this cigarette is terrible." he says.

"ingrate, i'll have you know that thing sells for 50 cents a piece." i reply tartly.

we sit and gas for half an hour, mikey and dad reminiscing about the old days, when cigarettes sold for $2 a carton, and dad regaling us with embarrassing stories about me when i was a kid. i need harriet to meet mr leisure, though, and tell the guys that we have to go.

mikey and dad say their farewells, kissing harriet lightly on the cheek, and i give dad a hug and a kiss before we head out, waving. i really want harriet to meet mr. leisure. i know we won't have long, as we have bones to clean up before getting ready for the festivities later on, so i press my foot to the floor and we head off at speed.

mr. leisure is out in his yard, brushing a dog, and he looks great. i toot my horn, and he comes running to the fence, tustling with the lumbering dog which careers around his feet, tripping him up.

"hey, sweet meat. get out of that car and let me hug you." his smile is broad as he raises his hands towards me, and we embrace one another. i introduce harriet, who smiles serenely and shakes his grizzled hand. "bill told me about you, harriet," he says, "you've come all the way from england to spend halloween with carlee. that's nice."

"and i've really enjoyed myself so far, mr. leisure. i've loved meeting some of carlee's friends, because i've heard so much about them. especially you." mr.leisure smiles.

"oh, i'm just an old geezer who has loved this beautiful young lady since she was knee high to a grasshopper. we used to watch television a lot when her mom was sick or when bill was away."

i give him a big hug. "and i've always loved you, ray," i say, and for a moment the emotion overcomes me and i shed a single tear.

"hey there, dry up now. do you remember the time when i showed you and frances how i used to rosin people's houses on halloween?"

"sure," i answer, smiling at the memory.

"and you two did it to old miss bash down the street, scared the shit out of her. didn't set foot out of doors for three weeks," he laughs. "come on harriet, i'll show you what i taught them." harriet looks confused but curious, and follows mr. leisure into his garage. they re-emerge with a nail, a length of cotton twine and a sac of rosin. "now harriet, rosin is used to coat a violin bow, or a baseball pitcher's hand. you rub the rosin along this string while i tie the nail on." mr. leisure is really enjoying himself, his coaching of harriet bringing back happy memories for him. harriet, too, seems engrossed in the action, and happily chats to him. she does as he tells her, and mr leisure nods appreciatively.

"carlee, put the nail under the weather boarding, just like you all did to miss bash." i walk over and place the nail between two loose fitting strips of weatherboarding. mr. leisure rubs rosin on his fingers and begins to stroke the string. instantly, an eerie sound emerges, seemingly coming from around the area of the nail. it sounds exactly like a howling ghost, plaintive but alarming at the same time.

harriet claps her hands delightedly. "that's fantastic," she cries.

"hell, you should hear it on the inside," mr leisure laughs. "pert near scared old lady bash to death."

"i can see why, mr. leisure," harriet replies, and we laugh.

"miss bash was in her nineties, harriet," i explain. mr. leisure is really turned on, his blue eyes burning bright, long forgotten memories awakening in his mind.

"carlee and frances were fourteen at the time," he says. "but wait till i tell you about the time i took them water melon stealin'." mr. leisure's face has turned alarmingly red, and he begins to wheeze, obviously short of breath.

"mr. leisure, maybe we should save that one for another time, harriet and myself have an awful lot to do this evening, and we really need to get home.

"party-pooper," he says. "but wait for a minute, i have something inside for you carlee." as he limps into the house harriet turns and whispers what a darling man he is.

"he really can't afford to get so worked up, though," i say, and harriet nods. after a couple of minutes he reappers, clutching a parcel.

"mrs. taylor brought this for you, a couple of weeks ago, carlee." the package is small, like a box that might contain a ring.

"gosh," i say excitedly, and take it from his shaking hand. i open it, and inside is a charm, the sort which goes on a bracelet. it is in the form of a bronze tennis racket, with the inscription 'carlee - my champ'. it is from my old friend, joe the fireman, who died a little while back. he was the sweetest guy, and i was very upset when he died. i hold the bracelet, observing the fine detail on it, and i can barely hold the tears back. mr leisure spots my emotion and gently shakes my shoulder.

"now go on, you two, i have better things to do." we make our farewells and head back to the car. mr leisure waves to us all the way down the drive and out of sight, and i turn back on to the freeway towards home.

"maybe we can work in a nap before the festivities tonight, harriet, they won't start until after dark, and i have a surprise for you back at the house."

"great, i love surprises," she replies, and tries to coax out of me what the surprise is, but i tease her by refusing to divulge anything. after a short while we reach the jackson flats turn off.

"do you want to go back?"

"good god, no." she answers, shivering violently. "i've had enough of weaver morgan for this year." i agree, and continue past the turn off, straight on down the road. the events at weaver morgan's had initially been fun, a bit strange, scary even. but what happened this morning was in a different league. i feel we had a glimpse of something i don't want to know about. it is too intense to talk about at the 'coven of ecstacy' later on, and i know we will not show off the skull that we found. our little girl is not a freak show, not for displaying to everbody and anybody. we will stick with the goat bone we found the previous evening. even with that, i'm convinced ours will be the scariest story at the 'coven': if there are any scarier, well, i wouldn't want to have been in those people's shoes.

we make good time on the short journey, and by six o'clock harriet and i are relaxing on the boat dock, watching the sun set on the green. contentedly, i sit and admire my charm. the weather is great for the time of year, a warm breeze blowing off of the water and fanning gently against us. harriet is staring all around, an expression of rapt enjoyment on her face, calm and relaxed. she strokes my arm gently.

"it's so quiet, carlee, so peaceful. a person could really get lost in thought living here."

"i do harriet, quite often," i agree. "hey, we'd better get ready, are you hungry?"

"after a lunch like we had, i don't think so."

"no, me neither. there's jack daniels when we get back."

"vintage jack?" good old harriet, i thought, ever the connoisseur.

"bought it myself in tennessee, the real thing."

she slides her arm in mine and we return slowly to the house. on the way, i tell harriet about my surprise. "at rochester, all of the participants are required to show up in costume. last year i went as the bride of frankenstein." harriet's eyes light up, and i take her to my bedroom. as she watches intently, i open the closet door and lay our costumes on the bed: a derby hat, black leather body suit, tweed sport jacket with black trousers and a pair of expensive black riding boots.

"the boots are lissell's, i couldn't even afford to rent them." i say.

"the avengers?"

"original, isn't it?"

"will the people at the coven recognize them?"

"sure, they reran the old bbc series all summer long. who's your preference, harriet?" harriet smiles.

"emma peel." she says immediately, stroking the leather body suit. "i always fancied her."

"then get dressed, emma." i say, and leave her to it, while i get myself ready as well.


on to next story: carlee and harriet at halloween part six


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