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Dewey Ardonni
Texas Lawyer
A novelette by Rudy Young
Only an off-the-wall
comedy like this can mirror the madness under which we live today.
Our hero, Dewey Ardonni defends a man accused of murder. The prosecution
has fingerprints, twenty eye-witness, a DNA match, and a signed confession,
but Dewey gets his client off. No tricks; just cool courtroom ingenuity.
Later, however, he become the unwitting accomplice in an attempt to assassinate
the President.
Copyright, rudy Young 2005
Word Count: 24,000
Chapter One
My name is Dewey. Im the only lawyer here in Shorty, Texas, a little
town of about five hundred people living on the east bank of the Cayenne
River. We Shortian's drink a lot of beer, grow a lot of hot peppers, and
generally kick back in the hot Texas sun. About a year ago my uncle Herbert
died and left me a hacienda on an acre of land just east of town, so I
took a bus out from the big city and settled in. There is no grass on
my acre of desert, but plenty of cacti, with a split rail fence built
all the way around. In the middle stands a little adobe house with poles
sticking out across the front, like in those old pueblo paintings; and
theres a little shed out back for a donkey, but I dont have
one yet. I started attending law school through a correspondence course
I found in the back of a mens magazine, and while I studied at night
I looked for a job in the daytime. Ive always been pretty good at
figuring things out, so I went to the Shorty Police Department and talked
them into hiring me on as a detective. I convinced them that having a
detective would make their police department look much more professional.
But when I found out janitorial duties went along with my regular duties
of investigating parking meter violations, I started looking for something
else. After all, I was a law student. Also, to be a policeman, you had
to shoot pistols and hassle people, and hit them over the head with sticks.
I knew I couldnt do that.
Next, I went to the Shorty Herald News and the editor, Mr. Roback, gave
me a job as a reporter. But all I got to write were obituaries, while
inside me burned the soul of a saga-spieling writer. This isnt
an obituary, Ardonni, Mr. Roback told me the day he fired me, This
is a goddamn novel!
Of course I was disappointed at getting fired twice in the same week,
but the timing couldnt have been better. The following day I received
my law degree in the mail. It had one of those yellow sticky messages
attached to it; telling me thanks for the hundred dollars, and they thought
I was going to be a very successful lawyer. Well, so did I. With my law
degree I sensed a new mission in life, a new surge of energy. I rented
an office in the Herald building, across the hall from the newsroom, and
hung my degree on the wall. A bit of paint here and there, an ad in the
paper, and it all began to happen; I was a lawyer.
The Herald building was the only three-story building within a hundred
miles. From our rooftop you could see the Sierra Madres on a clear day,
and Pancho Vila supposedly pissed somewhere in our parking lot. Everybody
was friendly, and I couldnt have picked a more peaceful place to
live. Over time I was able to sign on enough clients so I could pay the
bills and life was going great.
My mother lived somewhere in Ocussus, the corrupt city on the other side
of the river. She moved to Texas the same time as Uncle Herbert, but ignored
him completely, which I can easily believe since she left me in an orphanage
when I was six. I always hoped to meet her again one day, but only chanced
to see her now and then coming and going from Ocussus.
The city of Ocussus boasted thousands of lawyers, since every citizen
had to have their own attorney to protect them against the other citizens
attorneys. And should any of the hand-full of honest citizens living in
Ocussus ever want to hire an honest attorney, they had to drive across
the bridge to Shorty and see me. Yes, Im an honest attorney. I believe
truth to be the virtue upon which all others rest, and while Law is the
opposite of Medicine, where you had to take an oath to do good stuff,
I made a promise to myself I would always strive to do the right thing.
It wasnt long before I got my first test, when I was called upon
to defend a man on trial for his life. Being my first case I was a bit
nervous, but thrilled at the challenge; I felt I was about to enter my
element.
The adventure began for me one morning in my office. Im going
to kill that sonofabitch, Mr. Ardonni, Andrew P. Tucker growled,
pushing me out of his way as he stomped around my office. His six-foot-ten
frame stopped abruptly in front of a window and the room went dark.
I told him, Youve got to handle this legally, Mr. Tucker.
You have to work within the law!
I bought a gun and some bullets, he whispered, his eyes glaring
side to side. Im going to blow the bastards head off.
I remained in the chair where he had thrown me, but kept talking, Get
hold of yourself, Mr. Tucker. Kidnapping is a capital crime; whoever did
this to your daughter will be severely punished.
The man hung his head, his eyes closed. Crumpled suit, his hat rolled
up in his hands, the man was below depression. Mr. Ardonni,
he said, when my private investigator located my daughter she had
been sold in Arabia as a harem slave, twice. Mayor Falseworth did it,
him and that District Attorney, Upton Rivers, and Rivers wife, the
one they call Wanda The Witch. Theyre the devils who destroyed my
life.
Is your daughter willing to testify? I asked.
My daughter, though badly scarred, her mind ravaged for life, came
out of her coma long enough to point to Mayor Falseworth as the leader
of the white-slavery ring, but then she drifted back to the other side.
Justice will be done, I promised, getting to my feet. But
you have to let the authorities handle this.
You havent been here long, have you, Ardonni? Why do you think
I had to come across the river to find somebody who hasnt signed
Satans pact? Mr. Tucker walked to the door and opened it.
Across the hall the Herald reporters were busy putting together the afternoon
edition, and I could feel the rumble of the press warming up. Mr. Tucker
stood there in the doorway, his tear-filled voice cracking as he spoke.
Mr. Ardonni, some people in this world deserve to die.
Give me a couple days, I pleaded, Ill go to the
state capitol.
But Mr. Tucker was gone. He would be the third client that day wanting
to murder the mayor of Ocussus. A parent - teacher association was waiting
for me when I arrived at the office that morning. They wanted to know
if there was anything the law could do about the Mayor closing down the
schools, and in the process, relieving all teachers of their jobs. When
I told them there was nothing I could do, they wanted me to advise them
on how they couldkill the man.
The only way to change that kind of insane leadership, I told
them, is at the voting booth.
You havent been here long, have you Mr. Ardonni? one
of the committee suggested. Mayor Falseworth owns the voting machines,
and its the mayor and his henchmen who count the votes on election
night. Its all done in secret, and, needless to say, Mayor Falseworth
always wins. But the people in Ocussus think its okay for the Mayor
to cheat, if thats the only way he can win; they love him for it.
Later that afternoon, Sister Sarah, the head mistress at the orphanage,
came to see me. I want to make out my Will, Mr. Ardonni, she
confided. The woman was probably in her sixties, but attractive, what
I could see of her under all that black and white clothing. Her eyes were
solemn, peering at me over wire-frame glasses. Im going to
do something very bad, she said, and they will probably lock
me up for it.
Sister Sarah, I cant believe that. Your paperwork here says
youve been director of the Ocussus Orphanage for thirty-six years;
what would they do without you?
Mayor Falseworth closed down the orphanage. I thought he had come
to fix the plumbing, or maybe turn the heat and the electricity back on,
but instead, he closed the building and locked it.
You guys are right, I admitted, I havent been
here long.
That man will pay in Hell, Mr. Ardonni, but my great sin is that
I want to see him there as soon as possible.
Sister Sarah, Sister Sarah, I muttered, trying to calm her.
The Nun broke down crying. Ive shamed myself gravely here
today, Mr. Ardonni, wishing harm on another human being. She took
my arm, her desperate eyes begging for understanding. But, Emory
Falseworth is not a human being, she explained, as if telling it
to God, hes the lowest slime bag sonofabitch thats ever
crawled on its belly upon this earth!
I sat back in my chair. Sister Sarah, I contemplated, in
your next life you need to be a prosecutor.
Chapter two
The following morning I had a court appearance and came in early to avoid
the impending rain. Unlocking my office door, I smelled Jasmine on the
air, and knew my friend Margo had come in early, too. She was the Heralds
photographer, and worked across the hall in the newsroom. Tall and pretty,
black hair cut in an old-fashioned Pageboy, she was a relative newcomer
to Shorty, as was I. Our relationship so far had been as friends, but
I think we were both considering the possibilities. I found Margo in her
cubicle, going through photos at her desk. She looked up and smiled the
way I like, Good-morning, Dewey.
Good-morning, I said, sliding onto the chair next to her.
Looking back to the photos she asked, Wanna take a pretty girl to
breakfast?
I looked around. Is she here? I though Helga worked evenings.
Margo turned around in her chair, slowly crossing her arms and her legs
at the same time. Well, Dewey, Im sure that when Helgas
not mopping the floors she dreams about you, too.
We were both laughing at this when Mr. Roback appeared suddenly in her
doorway. Oh, Margo, he said, Im glad youre
here. Wearing a white, long-sleeved shirt, through which you could
see the gray hair on his chest over the top of his tank-top undershirt,
his tie was undone, his sleeves rolled up, Mr. Roback was bubbling with
news. Weve got us a murder, he grinned. Somebody
killed Mayor Falseworth this morning; stabbed him in the back outside
his office.
Of course, I immediately considered which one of my clients had done it.
Mr. Roback seemed to notice me for the first time. Ardonni? What
the hell are you doing here? Why arent you over at the Ocussus City
Hall?
I didnt know about the murder until you just told us, Mr.
Roback.
What do you do down there at that police station; your scanner dont
play cool music; you have to find out about emergencies in the next days
paper?
Its worked so far, Sir, I told him.
Margo laughed.
I continued, Im not a detective any more, Mr. Roback. I decided
I wasnt very good at it.
Well, thats understandable; you werent worth a damn
as a reporter, either.
Someday a publisher will pay big money for those obituaries, Mr.
Roback.
Do you realize the family of one of the deceased is trying to sue
us?
Im sorry. I was just trying to help the paper. I thought more
people would read the funeral notices if there was a little more color
to them.
Snakeeyes Auntie Martha is survived by her brother, Mad Dog Uncle
Harry?
See?
He was not impressed. So what are you doing since I fired your ass?
Im a lawyer now.
Oh, yes; those business cards you keep sticking in my door. God
help me if I ever need a legality done.
Margo broke in, Excuse me, Sir, about the murder; do they have a
suspect?
Yes they do, he replied. Every man, woman and child
on this side of the river, and a few on the other side, too. Falseworth
was a hated man. Say, Ardonni, why dont you do something helpful
for a change and escort Margo over to Ocussus City Hall? See she gets
through the police lines. I imagine all four hundred of their officers
will be out on this one.
Ill be happy to escort Margo, I told him.
She picked up her coat and purse and we scampered across the hall to the
elevator. Seeing us from his doorway, he snapped his fingers. Are
you still here? he asked. Theres a dead man waiting!
The elevator doors closed between us.
Margo called ahead and we picked up hot coffee and sandwiches on the way.
It began to rain heavily as we crossed the bridge, with lightning lighting
up the black sky like flickering daylight. The city of Ocussus was completely
surrounded by a twelve-foot concrete wall, with broken glass embedded
in the top all the way around. This was so the hungry taxpayers living
in cardboard shanties outside the wall wouldnt try to get in and
steal something to eat. We parked about four blocks from Ocussus City
Hall. Mr. Roback was right, all four hundred of their police cars were
there, but we only saw one officer on duty. It was our friend Mark Spade
standing on the front steps in the rain. With Margos umbrella over
us, we splashed through the puddles and up the steps to where he stood.
Margo said to him, Must be a lot of radio traffic tonight.
She was referring to the three hundred and ninety-nine other police officers
sitting safely in their cars, talking on their radios.
Yes, Maam, Mark said. They talkin to they mommies.
Were here about the murder, I told him.
Which one? The one by the back-stabber or the one by the hand of
God?
Theres more than one?
Theres her, he said, nodding to a small black pile of
what looked like coal dust on the steps. Woman was walking up the
steps just like you, and, wham, lightning flashed and she wasnt
there no more.
The victim was recognizable as a woman only by a single high-heeled red
shoe, and a red and yellow flower-pattern purse laying a few steps below.
Mark added, Im still in shock. I havent told anybody
about her yet. You think I should? Its just so strange, Im
not sure it even happened. I been pretending the street sweepers left
that pile of dust there.
Margo pointed across the steps. Theres a trash bin turned
over by the wind; maybe youre right. She noticed something
else. On the other hand, if that really is a dead woman, when her
relatives come to collect the body somebodys going to have to explain
why she washed away down a storm sewer.
Mark saw the ashes scattering in the rain and nodded in agreement. Thats
right, thats right, and itll be me wholl haveta do it.
Its no fun bein new man on the force, people. He said to me.
I wish youd hire on, friend, maybe then I could get a step
up.
Mama Ardonni raised only cowards, Mark; I was her pride and joy.
I wouldnt be any better as a policeman than I was as a detective.
Im afraid of guns.
Suddenly, he remembered something. Hey, he laughed, pointing
at me. I know who you are; youre that lawyer fellow over in
Shorty. I was over at you-alls Courthouse paying a ticket last week
and chanced to catch you at work in the courtroom. You were doin the talk,
friend, and your man did the walk. I woulda sworn your client stole them
chickens, but you somehow convinced the jury he was innocent. Hell, the
man had a chicken feather stuck to his shoe.
Yeah, but it was down low where the jury couldnt see it.
Well, I enjoyed the show. If I ever need somebody to defend my ass,
Im gonna come lookin for you. Whats your name?
I gave him my business card. Dont you remember me, Mark?
I just met you, Louie, he said.
Thats, Dewey, I corrected him. Mark, are you okay?
Youre acting strange. Youve worked with Margo and myself on
many investigations. Remember when Mrs. Andrews cow got loose?
Margo tried to help, Mark, my name is Margo. Im a reporter
at the Herald.
Glad to meet you.
Well, look, she pressed on, do you have any information
on the dead woman?
Just what was in her purse; all the witnesses were gone by the time
we got here. They were afraid of the lightning, like smart people supposed
to be.
Lightning? I considered, looking around. Its still
raining, Mark, maybe we should all get inside somewhere.
Upton Rivers put me out here to hold back the mourners; so far theys
just you two.
Margo copied the dead womans name and address from a drivers
license and gave it back to Mark. Are you going to be all right,
Mark? she asked. You arent acting like yourself.
I dont remember what Im supposed to act like, Maam.
I dont remember nothin after that lightning bolt struck that woman.
She advised him, You should go home and call a doctor; youve
lost your memory. If youre still here when we finish inside, well
drive you.
Ill lose my job if I leave here, he said. I feel
okay, I think.
We splashed up the steps where I pulled the door open and called back
to Mark, Are you going to report the lightning killing the woman?
Lets just wait and see if somebody comes up missing, worry
about it then.
Good plan, I agreed. Well, well see you in a bit.
Okay Louie.
I followed Margo inside. A small crowd had gathered, mostly medical personnel
and office-workers from upstairs, and in a glassed conference room we
could see a group of people being interviewed by the District Attorney,
Upton Rivers. I learned later that when the girls at Shorty City Hall
found out Falseworth was dead, they cheered and broke into song. Dr. Dowell,
the Coroner, had just pronounced the victim dead, and was supervising
the loading of the body onto a stretcher - cart. The body was covered
with a sheet, and the knife was still in the victims back, causing
the sheet to rise in an abrupt peak. A woman I knew who worked upstairs
stood quietly at the back door, waiting for the stretcher to approach.
She caused it to stop, gently lifting back the sheet from the victims
head, then spat on the dead man where he lay. The interns rushed to her
and pulled her away. You people need to stop doing that! one
of them scolded her. If everyone keeps spitting on the corpse, itll
contaminate any DNA evidence.
Margo took pictures of the murder scene and I went to talk with the Coroner
as the ambulance pulled away. Do they have any leads, Dr. Dowell?
I asked.
He adjusted the spectacles on his nose so he could see me better. So,
you couldnt make it as a policeman? What kind of man are you, Ardonni?
My heart just wasnt in it, Sir.
Lawyerin? God help me if I ever need a legality done.
Yes, Sir. Did you find any fingerprints on the knife?
Lots of them. Well find this killer pretty quick.
Margo joined us. Do you have any suspects? she asked.
Not yet. But give us an hour in the lab and well have our
man. Dr. Dowell went to the back door, where he opened his umbrella.
When I know something Ill give Roback a call. With this
he pushed the door open, ducked under the umbrella, and hurried out to
his car.
Mark refused to leave his assignment, so we left him in the rain and the
lightning. Returning to the Herald newsroom, Margo took me to the microfilm
room. She wanted to look in past issues for the name on the license, and
in seconds she had a hit. On the screen was a story about an automobile
accident that happened two years before. The story even had a photo of
the pretty blonde woman who died in the crash. We were both amazed at
what the woman was wearing.
Explain to me, Margo wanted to know, how a purse and
shoes from an auto-death two years ago ended up on the Ocussus City Hall
steps? According to her date of birth, the woman who died from being struck
by lightning this morning, already died two years ago.
Chapter Three
I went to check the messages at my office, and when I came back Mr. Roback
was explaining the background of the deceased Mayor to a new employee.
The kid was probably the new copy boy, freckle-faced, still in high school,
he seemed to be enraptured by his new bosss colorful account. Mayor
Emory Bohard Falseworth betrayed every trust, the editor explained,
and pocketed every tax dollar he could get his greedy hands on.
He cut funding to the fire department, the orphanage, the schools, and
he stopped all aid to the poor. It is said that since Falseworth was elected
mayor, when a citizen of Ocussus reached the age of seventy-five they
were given a bullet and told what to do with it.
I dont believe that, Margo laughed. Even thats
below Emory Falseworths standards. But, even as we all chuckled
at this incredible notion, none of us could remember seeing an old person
in Ocussus in a long, long time.
Mr. Roback was obviously happy his paper finally had something to print
beside the price of chili peppers. He continued, No one breathed
without the Mayors permission, and then only after they paid a tax
or bought a permit to do so. Luckily, Mayor Falseworth never got to know
many of us over here at the Herald, at least not well enough to want to
do us harm. In fact, he made it a habit to stay away from newspapers,
where someone might take his picture. He kissed no babies, gave no speeches;
he just maintained the low profile that allowed him to steal everything
he could steal.
So, what went wrong? I asked. His lifestyle seems to
have cost him his life.
Mr. Roback nodded. If you steal indiscriminately from the private
as well as the public sector, eventually youre going to step on
somebodys toes. Remember, these are the men who killed Kennedy,
and theyre still mooning us from that grassy knoll.
I made my court appointment, signed some divorce papers, and hurried the
eight blocks across town to meet Margo for lunch at Attillas. We
were in the middle of our Burritos when her cell phone rattled.
She listened for a moment, and I could see her expression turn to shock
as she jotted some things down on a pad. That was Mr. Roback,
she said, putting away her phone and rolling our food into a large napkin.
Theyve confirmed the evidence; the prints, eyewitness accounts,
and theyve even got a DNA match; theyve got their man.
As I ran behind her to our cars she explained, The main suspect
in the murder of Mayor Falseworth is none other than Officer Mark Spade.
I was stunned. T-thats impossible.
Facts are facts, She said. And you cant argue
with DNA?
I followed her to the Shorty police station, where a guard took us to
Marks cell. The prisoner got up from his bunk when he saw us, and
came to the door smiling. He was wearing an orange jumpsuit. My
new friends, he greeted us, Margie and Louie,
Margo and Dewey, Margo corrected him. How are you holding
up, Mark?
They say I killed Mayor Falseworth.
Did you? I asked.
I dont remember nothin after the lightning struck that woman.
She wasnt standin more than ten feet from me.
What evidence do they have? I asked Margo, knowing she
had taken notes on the phone call.
She read them off. Twenty eye witnesses, fingerprints, and a DNA
match.
To which Mark added, They also got my confession.
You signed a confession? I blurted. You arent
even sure you did it.
That prosecutor said I did it. He seemed pretty sure. And how else
could they have all that evidence?
Well, I wish you had waited, I advised him. Was that
your knife used in the murder?
Yeah, it was mine. I kept in the top of my locker. Everybody used
it, peeling orange, opening things, stuff like that; anybody who needed
it.
Whats your bail? I asked.
They not none. This door isnt even locked. He moved
it open and shut to show us. There was a mob of Liberals gathered
outside my window last night with a rope, hollerin they were gonna lynch
the Sheriff if he didnt let me go. The Sheriff told them hed
let me out soon as Judge Walkfree said he could, so please not to break
down his door. They all went home.
Wow. I was amazed. Ive never heard it told that
way before.
Mark added. As long as Im in Shorty, I think Ill be
okay.
Margo agreed, This town would never come up with twelve people willing
to convict you or anybody else for killing Emory Bohard Falseworth; even
with a signed confession.
Mr. Louie, will you be my lawyer? the man in the orange jump
suit asked.
What will we use for a defense? I asked. I had been considering
what I would do if he did asked me. Theyve got all this evidence;
what will we tell the judge?
Ill tell him my mamma raised me better than do something bad
like that.
I nodded. That should do it. I think weve got it in the bag.
Ill come back tomorrow and well go over everything that happened.
I dont think you killed the mayor, Mark, and, yes, Ill represent
you.
Thanks, Louie, he said, trying to smile. Lucks
been with me so far, my new friends, Im sure it wont let me
down now.
The Herald newsroom was alive with scurrying reporters, everyone working
on the big story. Mr. Roback came to Margos door. The Prosecution
just got a change of venue, he said. The trials been
moved across the river to Ocussus.
Oh, no! Margo whispered. Emory Bohard Falseworth was
born in Ocussus.
So was their district attorney, the editor added. Those
two men are Ocussus favorite sons. And now, with the death of the
mayor, Upton Rivers has appointed himself the official hand of vengeance.
Judge Walkfree is out; Judge Throwbook is in.
When do we pick a jury? I asked.
Jurys already selected.
I was jolted. But Im Mark Spades defense counsel; Im
supposed to be there for the Jury selection.
The Ocussus officials stayed up all night last night choosing a
jury. Had some fist fights and two people are in the hospital. So many
wanted to be on the jury that would hang the man who killed their favorite
son, that things got out of hand. They finally added eight more chairs
to the jury box to stop the fighting.
Twenty jurors? I protested. They cant do that.
And Mark hasnt even been indicted yet.
I called Rivers about that, Mr. Roback went on, and
he said that since theyll be holding the trail in secret and on
a weekend in the dark of night, a defense attorney wont be necessary.
Welcome to Ocussus, Margo said quietly.
Mr. Roback returned to his office, telling us over his shoulder, Trial
starts Monday morning, whether we like it or not.
Margo and I sat at her desk bewildered. Dewey, she asked,
are you going to be able to mount a defense? It sure looks like
Mark is guilty.
Ill subpoena the entire township of Shorty if I have to, and
after the jury hears how many people wanted Mayor Falseworth dead, maybe
I can create a shadow of a doubt in one of the jurors minds.
Good, she said. You do have a plan. But dont forget,
youre up against a monster; District Attorney Upton Rivers has never
lost a case.
Trust me, I told her, and kissed her on the forehead.
Chapter Four
Saturday morning I was hoping to sleep in and get some rest before the
trail on Monday, but the phone woke me up just before sunrise. Hello?
I whispered.
A womans voice announced, Im outa Jack.
I did not recognize her voice. Who is this?
This is your mother. I need a ride to the liquor store.
Mother? Well, Im glad you called. I sat up in bed. After
all these years of separation, a phone call like this was a definite breakthrough.
She said, Theres something Ive been wanting to tell
you.
Certainly, Mother. Where can I meet you? She gave me her address
and then hung up. Everything I knew about my mother I had picked up from
the society page in the newspaper. She made her fortune in real estate,
moved to Texas ten years ago with her brother, and has been an outspoken
proponent of money, Upton Rivers, and the Repugnant Party ever since.
At the beginning of the second century, politics and government in America
became so evil and corrupt that even the Republicans were outdone. As
a result an entirely new party was created to represent this obscenity
upon our land, the Repugnant Party. It followed naturally that the national
headquarters for the Repugnant Party would be Ocussus, Texas, and their
leaders would be Mayor Falseworth and Upton Rivers.
I followed mothers directions to the front gate of Ocussus, found
her mansion without much trouble, and buzzed her on the intercom from
the gate. She came out immediately, and, after making it clear that riding
in my 65 Chevy truck was far below her standards, she got in and
we cruised out of town.
Mothers hair was dyed strawberry red, she stood about five-seven,
her substantial weight stuffed into a million dollar dress, the hem of
which brushed the ground behind her million dollar shoes. She was not
unattractive, but the demeanor of her face said anything but Mother.
Do you know where Thompsons Tavern is? she asked.
Ive heard of it.
She explained her predicament, My cases of Jack have arrived and
I need to pick them up. My chauffeur Simon usually does this, but he died
last night of a heart attack.
Is he the one who was pictured with you in the Heralds Richest
Women in the World spread?
Yes. He was bringing me home from a Repugnant Partys Child-Rapist
Defense Fund meeting and dropped dead over the steering wheel at a red
light. I tried to push him out of the way so I could drive but he was
too fat; I had to walk the rest of the block home.
Thats too bad, Mother.
Yes. Its too bad about Simon, too; he was with me twenty years.
A mile outside town we pulled to a stop in front of a small bar at the
edge of a barren desert. I followed Mother inside to a booth in back,
where we slid into seats across from each other. Thompsons Tavern
was obviously old stomping-ground for dear old Mom, for even at seven
in the morning she knew everybody and called out to them.
I like this place, Mother, I told her. But Im
surprised its open this early.
I told Upton Rivers I wouldnt vote for him unless he wrote
new liquor laws into the Ocussus Constitution. You can buy hard liquor
at church on Sunday these days.
The place is nice, but hardly the dive Id expect a millionaires
like you to hang out.
Its the one connection with the past I allow myself.
Without being asked to do so, the bartender, a huge man in a filthy tank-top
T-shirt, his apron splattered with last weeks burger stains, came
to our table and placed a cold Bud and a fifth of Jack Daniels in front
of us.
Mother opened the bottle of Jack immediately and turned it vertical, the
liquor making a glugging sound going down her throat. The bottle half
empty, she smiled in contentment and wiped her lips. Sam here, hes
got ESP, she informed me, touching the bartenders hairy, tattooed
arm. He knows what people want when they walk in the door.
Sam was huge, bald, obviously a biker, with an eye patch and a scar that
ran all the way across his face. Just to see what he would say, I told
him, I really wanted a Red Stripe.
He smiled ever so slightly and, after a pause, told me very softly, I
can give you one of those.
I laughed out loud and shook my head. Just kidding, Sam. You got
it right; you know a Bud man when you see one.
Mother drank the rest of the fifth in a second gulp, and handed the empty
back to Sam to take with him. Then she changed the subject. Son,
theres something I want to tell you. I know I havent been
much of a mother to you, and I wanted to apologize for ignoring you all
your life. While I was off making money, you were left to fend for yourself.
I have all these jewels and furs, and a garage filled with shiny cars,
and yet I gave you nothing.
Thats all right, Mother, I told her in truth, I
turned out okay.
How can you say that? Look at what youre driving. And I bet
you dont even own a golf course.
Mother; Im happy.
I left you on your own so that you would grow up strong and independent
like me. Leaving you completely out of my life seemed the best way to
do that at the time. But I guess I was wrong. I never dreamed you would
grow up a Liberal.
Mother; Im glad you wanted to get together. Theres so
much I want to know about my past. Uncle Herbert wouldnt even discuss
most of it. I hardly even know who my father was.
The bartender brought another Bud and a second bottle of Jack, and, without
taking his eyes off me, set them down and picked up the money Mother had
laid out. Still looking at me with eyes half closed, he returned to the
bar. Mother wasted no time cracking the second label. Genuinely concerned,
I asked her, How can you function drinking that much alcohol?
How can I function without it? She replied, as a fact no longer
open for discussion. Then she mentioned, I read where youre
going to be a guest on a television interview with Upton Rivers next Thursday.
You think youll still be alive after the trial?
He hasnt won, yet, Mother. I replied. My friend
Margo is hosting a show on corruption. The District Attorney is representing
the pro side, and Im supposed to speak for the con.
Are you and this Margo going to get married?
Married? Were just friends. Well, maybe, eventually.
Married is okay, I suppose, she considered, but once
you become a parent youll know what its like for your
life to be over.
Well, lucky for the world, Mother, most people dont look on
parenting the way you do. And speaking of parents, dont you think
its time you told me about my father?
Its a story best left untold. And none of that matters now.
All I wanted to do was apologize for being a crummy mother, not go tiptoeing
through the memories.
Im just happy to be sitting here with you, Mother. And you
didnt totally ignore me. You came to the orphanage to see me on
my birthday.
Yes, that was nice. You were so cute when you were seven. Ive
got pictures.
I still have that cowboy hat, I told her. Im saving
it for my own little boy.
She reached across the table and took my hands in hers. All that
matters in this life,
Her expression went completely blank
for an uncomfortably long moment.
I finally told her, Dewey.
Yes, yes, of course; Dewey, all that matters in this life is money.
God will protect you as long you devote every moment of your life to making
money, any way you can. She let go my hand and leaned back in her
seat, her friendly expression turning into a smirk. But I guess
its no use talking reality to a you. Your kind only understands
honesty and integrity, when its money and possessions that count
in todays world. Only the rich will survive, Dewey, so youd
better get on the gravy train while you can. Personally, I think all you
Liberals should be lined up against a wall and shot. She thought
about this, taking another slug from the bottle. Not you, of course;
I need a ride home.
Really, Mother, Id like to know about my father. The only
thing I remember is his name was Carl.
His name was Bill.
Bill? I gasped. You waited sixteen years to tell me
my fathers real name was Bill?
Thats the name he gave me.
Gave you? I was even more confused.
She said, All these riches and I never shared with you.
Mother, having wealth crossed my mind, but never enough to worry
about it. I survived pretty well; got me a law degree, my lifes
good. This time it was I who took her hands in mine. About
my father, I persisted, until now I though his name was Carl,
the one we threw out the fourth story window when I was six.
Carl had a temper.
He was trying to knife you, Mother.
Yes, well, I appreciate your stepping in with that cast-iron skillet.
I was only trying to protect you, and pay him back for the beatings.
Well, you did that. We had to dump him out the window to cover up
the fact his skull was broken in so many pieces.
I thought about it and smiled. I looked at her. You know, Mother,
we were close once, werent we?
She shrugged but did not reply.
I let my mind drift over the past. There was a man named Frank,
I remembered out loud. He seemed to be around a lot.
I never loved Frank, she interjected. I never loved
Carl. The only man I ever loved was the man who called himself Bill.
Why dont you know his name for sure?
I didnt know him that long.
Well, tell me what happened, Mother. Im a grown man now; I
want to know about my father.
Okay. I guess youre right. I guess its time for truth
all around. Well, first of all, I didnt make my money in real estate
like Ive led the world to believe. Back in the eighties I was the
most successful Madam in Chicago.
I was startled. What can a man say when his mother tells him something
like this?
But I wasnt always prosperous, she went on. I
was plenty hungry in the early years, none more than nine months before
you were born. I was working as a hooker in a waterfront ghetto neighborhood
in New York, doing it in an alley behind a burned-down liquor store, working
for a one-armed pimp named Gloss.
I tried to suck in enough air to let out a gasp, but found I could not.
Mother continued, Every night I serviced the grimy longshoremen
coming off the tugboats, and the walking dead and the squalor of humanity
coming from the blood-donor clinics down on Canal Street. I did it on
garbage cans, cardboard boxes, and in the mud; I used to cut myself on
broken bottles. But eventually I saved up enough to buy myself a bus ticket
out of there.
M-my God, Mother, I gasped, looking around. This is
probably more than I needed to know.
Well, make up your mind. You asked me to tell you about your father.
I closed my eyes and nodded, Yes, yes, okay, go ahead; but jump
ahead to the part where my father bounces me on his knee and tells me
bedtime stories.
Mother lit a cigarette, took a long draw, and blew the smoke into the
darkness above her. She continued, Bill was the most handsome man
I had ever seen. It was a miserably cold, rainy December night, I looked
up from my work and saw him standing there in line with the sailors and
drunken tamps from the docks waiting their turn. He was an unbelievably
elegant, handsome man, dressed in what must have been a thousand dollar
suit; he stood well over six-feet tall, with coal black hair and black,
riveting eyes that were staring hungrily down at me. His presence was
a shining jewel among the dregs standing around him. This man called Bill
made love to me right there in the garbage, the mud, broken bottles and
scurrying rats, like he was an angel from above sent down to conceive
you. Why he was so gracious to me when it was him paying the quarter I
will never know.
I sat speechless, my mouth hanging open in shock.
She concluded, He ruined that suit.
Mother, Im blond, skinny, and not much taller than you; I
cant help but think youre making all this up. I immediately
considered the implication of what I had just said, and, before she could
answer, interjected, Of course, you were there; you should know
for sure.
Her expression was that of resignation. I guess what Im saying,
Dewey, is, Im not positive this man Bill was your father, but hes
the one I always wished it was.
I carried mothers liquor cases out to the truck, and when I dropped
her off at home I carried them inside for her. As I was leaving we actually
hugged for what may have been the first time in our lives. I waved to
her as I drove away. I had a good feeling about knowing my mother again.
I guess visiting memories from the past can be a good thing.
Chapter Five
Monday morning Margo picked me up at my place and we rode together to
the Ocussus County Courthouse for the first day of the trial. Several
news crews from around the country were already set up, all the people
from the News Herald were there, and out on the front lawn a monitor had
been set up so the overflow from the courtroom would be able to watch
the trail on television. A CNN reporter was giving a live, worldwide,
pretrial newscast, Good morning, America, he said to the camera.
Were here in Ocussus, Texas where a man is on trial for murdering
the Mayor, Mr. Emory Bohard Falseworth. Ocussus, Texas is unique in America
in that almost every citizen is a millionaire, even the maids and butlers.
The garbage is picked up in BMWs, and the fire trucks are made by
Mercedes. Also, the only ones who pay taxes are the poor. In Ocussus,
Texas, you are either a Millionaire or a Taxpayer, there is no in-between.
The reporter stopped a man entering the building. Sir, are you a
Millionaire?
Several times over, he replied.
And what about those citizens of Ocussus who are not Millionaires?
You mean the Taxpayers? Well, poor people dont need money
like we rich people do. They dont need money for education because
all the schools have been closed; they dont need money for food
because they have all they can eat in desert lizards and cacti, all for
free. The man chuckled, Why do we put up with them? Somebodys
got to keep the sewers clean.
Inside we found the courtroom filled to the balcony with people, with
the line of people along the back wall pouring out the front door and
out around the television monitor. I arranged to bring ten witnesses on
a bus from Shorty, at my own considerable expense, and I also subpoenaed
the secretaries who cheered and broke into song when they learned Mayor
Falseworth was dead. They sat in their assigned seats, watching and waiting
to testify. We didnt have much of a defense, considering the prosecution
had more than enough evidence, and our only hope was to find a kind heart
somewhere on the twenty-panel jury.
A Deputy brought Mark Spade to the Defense table, unlocked his chains,
and sat him down next to me. Mark and I had gotten to talk for about an
hour the night before, but he told me little I though we could use. Some
of us in the Herald building chipped in and bought Mark a suit from Harveys
Gun and Pawn, and Im sure he looked as good as he ever looked. He
still didnt know who we were, but it didnt seem to matter.
The District Attorney, Upton Rivers, entered the trail area and pulled
out a chair at the Prosecution table. The man was tall and lean, silver
hair, wearing a blue suit, he was a handsome man until he looked at you.
When his eyes met mine, I could see all the way down to his heart and
found it covered with ice.
Upton Rivers was accompanied by his wife, and an assistant dressed in
a tweed suit. The grin Upton Rivers gave me was not of good will. I had
launched some complaints through the U.S. Justice Department, and though
I was told to mind my own business about the jury selection, fearing bad
press, the United States Justice Department conceded that, for the time
being, the Mark Spade trial would have to be held in the daytime on weekdays.
It was obvious to me that Upton Rivers was not pleased with my having
done this.
He said to me, You may have gotten one over on me, Ardonni, getting
the law to intermingle in our private ways of doing things here in Ocussus,
but it wont matter. Youve already made the biggest mistake
of your short career, youve stepped into the same courtroom with
the leopard, the mangler; Upton Rivers, the greatest Prosecutor in the
history of the jury system.
Well, maybe I can learn something, I submitted.
My boy, youll learn something. Youre learn what its
like to be humbled; youre going to remember todays lashing
for the rest of your life. With this he chuckled like a villain
in some Saturday cartoon, and sat down at his table. He looked back and
added, The courts may run America, Ardonni, but Ocussus Cactus Oil
runs the courts.
Ocussus Cactus Oil was a cough syrup invented by a local mother who had
a child suffering from a cold. One teaspoon of this syrup not only cured
the childs cold, but also fixed her teeth and gave the child an
IQ of two hundred and fifty. When the town found out about this magic
oil they patented the formula for themselves; leaving the local mother
out of it. Everyone on the patent list became a millionaire.
The District Attorneys wife, Witch Wanda, was obliged to pull out
her own chair at the table, and she took a seat next to her husband. She
had that witchs profile, the nose and the thing that looked like
a wart, and I have actually seen flowers wilt when she walked by. Tall
and exceptionally thin, she was dressed for evil in a black suit and hat,
and on her feet she wore black, six-inch stiletto heels. A black transparent
net covered her face, making her almost attractive. But something strange
happened. When her husband wasnt looking, Witch Wanda glanced back
over his shoulder at me and I saw immediately that her eyes, which had
always looked upon me with the utmost disdain and contempt, now seemed
filled with a pleading desperation. I was taken off-guard by this, and
could only nod back to her. She took a compact from her handbag and began
powdering what looked like tear stains beneath her eyes.
Twelve jurors were seated in the jury box, with the rest of them seated
in front. The Judge entered by a hidden door behind the bench, and we
all stood up as the clerk announced, This court of Ocussus County,
Texas is now in session. All stand for the Honorable Hangus P. Throwbook.
The judge was in his fifties, quite fat, with a pasty white face and bushy
black eyebrows. His head was covered with extremely white hair, cut into
a butch haircut. He climbed into his seat, slammed his gavel, and motioned
the clerk to introduce the first case.
Your Honor, Mark Spade, the nigger who murdered our beloved Mayor
last Friday morning, has been dragged before this court for sentencing.
I jumped to my feet. Your Honor, I object! My client hasnt
even been indicted yet, much less found guilty of anything. I then
told the clerk, Sir, if you cant address a man any better
than that you need to learn some manners.
The room fell silent. People in the audience looked at me, then at each
other, than back to me.
Manners, I repeated. Rules of life that help you act
like a human being.
The bewildered silence broke into oos and ahs
of new awareness, as the Ocussus audience contemplated this unique concept.
The District Attorney announced, Wed like to call Dr. Dowell
to the stand. The Coroner came from the audience and sat in the
witness chair.
Upton Rivers began, Dr. Dowell, state your occupation.
Im Coroner of Ocussus County
And you have done a thorough investigation into the murder of our
dear, beloved mayor; the man who was sent from the planet Pluto to guide
us?
That is correct.
Did you find any fingerprints on the knife?
There were several.
Dr. Dowell, to whom do the fingerprints belong?
They belong to Mark Spade, the defendant.
I didnt see how things could get any worse, but Rivers had that
covered too. Dr. Dowell, he said to the witness, I understand
you have a DNA match.
Yes. Some of the fingerprints had Mark Spades cells attached.
Is that common?
Ive never seen anything like it. Of course, DNA is still relatively
new, especially here in Texas.
The District Attorney asked, Dr. Dowell, please tell the court about
the first time Mark Spade came to the courthouse to kill the mayor.
Well, he actually came to ask the mayor if he could mow the courthouse
lawn for extra money.
And with the lawnmower blade, did Mark Spade attack Mayor Falseworth?
No, the Mayor said he had a Taxpayer who mowed the lawn for next
to nothing.
Was it then that the Defendant hit our dear, beloved mayor with
the lawn mower blade.
No; he left.
He left! Of course he left! Upton Rivers stepped back, turning
around to face the audience. He was in a play. The defendant ran
to his locker to get his knife so he could come back and kill the Mayor
for not letting him mow his lawn!
Trying to maintain some logic, Dr Dowell interjected, Upton, we
dont know why Mr. Spade murdered the mayor, we just know he did.
I stood up, Your Honor, once again I object.
Attacking a man with a lawnmower blade is a serious offense, Councilor,
Judge Throwbook chastised me, followed by Sustained! and a
slam of his mallet.
The DA continued, Dr. Dowell, the Defense will try to tell us what
a crook and corrupt leader the mayor was. Isnt it true that without
the mayor and his Ocussus Cough Oil Company, our town would not be what
it is today?
There is no doubt about that.
Thanks you, Dr. Dowell, that will be all.
The jury was all men, all white, and all of them ready to hang somebody.
The Coroners examination by the prosecutor was devastating to my
case, and I feared any questions I might ask would only make things worse;
but I had to try. I approached the witness stand. Dr. Dowell, wasnt
it common knowledge that Mayor Falseworth was a thief.
Strangely, Upton Rivers did not object to this accusation.
The Coroner laughed. It was never a problem. You see; the Ocussus
city council set up a fund of a few million dollars on the side for the
mayor to steal from. That way he could still set a good example for our
children, and not get into the real money.
Dr. Dowell, I asked, were there any other fingerprints
on the murder weapon other than those of Mark Spade?
None.
Dont you think it strange that a knife that was used at one
time or other by everyone in the police locker room, including the District
Attorney, should only have Mark Spades fingerprints on it?
It doesnt matter. His were all we needed.
I asked the Coroner, Dr. Dowell, what is your association with Ocussus
Cough Oil?
Im on the board of directors. But its just a title;
Falseworth made all the decisions.
Can you give us an example?
Well, youve probably heard about the child who was cured with
one spoonful of Ocussus Cough Oil; that really happened. But problems
began when Mayor Falseworth insisted on adding a preservative his brothers
company sold. It was an innocent enough preservative by itself; but when
mixed with Green Scorpion Cactus Oil, the basic ingredient in Ocussus
Cough Oil, it became a lethal poison. Everyone who took Ocussus Cough
Oil after that died. The Mayor forbade any negative publicity, even after
I told him how dangerous it was, so sales continue to this day around
the world. Its not doing so well in Ocussus any more, of course.
When you told the Mayor how dangerous the product was, what did
he say?
I told him some of those people dying were dear friends of mine;
all six of my grandchildren, most of their cousins, my wife and two nephews.
I demanded Falseworth change the preservative, but he just laughed, That
would be admitting I made a mistake, Dowell, he told me. I
am Emory Bohard Falseworth; I dont make mistakes! I recall
telling him, Children are dying for absolutely nothing.
I dont care how many brats have to die, the Mayor
scoffed back at me, I will not withdraw my product.
Thats all for this witness, I told the Court. I was
stunned. Why were we even having this trial? We should all be down at
the cemetery pissing on Mayor Falseworths grave. The Prosecutions
next witness was Alice Applebottom, Ocussus City Halls Receptionist.
Short and plump, dressed in a red and black plaid outfit, she bounced
as she walked across the floor.
Mrs. Applebottom, Upon Rivers began, once she was comfortable
in the chair, How long have you worked as City Hall Receptionist?
Sixteen years; ever since Mayor Falseworth took office.
Sixteen years with our beloved Mayor. He was a such wonderful man,
wasnt he?
He was the best mayor Ocussus ever had, she proclaimed. Where
would we be today without his guidance, his leadership, his same-orientation
marriage amendment to the Constitution?
True, the District Attorney agreed, shaking his head in wonder
at the thought. The city would be crawling with left-handed people.
He paused while a murmur of Amens drifted across the
audience. Mrs. Applebottom, at what time did you see the Defendant
running from the building?
It was exactly eleven oclock.
How can you be so sure?
The witness explained, There is a clock on the wall above the front
door.
Judge Throwbook had fallen asleep. The Clerk went around and woke him
up.
Where were you at this time? the District Attorney continued.
We were having a fire drill. Our insurance company requires we have
a monthly fire drill; I was standing on the sidewalk out in back of the
building.
When you came back from the fire drill, Mrs. Applebottom,
Upton Rivers pressed on, did you notice anything unusual about your
work area?
Yes, my office supply-cabinet was open. It had either been opened
that morning or sometime during the previous week. The lock wasnt
broken or anything. Maybe the defendant had a key.
Mrs. Applebottom, did the defendant steal anything beside your pocket
book, wallet, and everything you own?"
No. The only thing he took was a can of spray adhesive. Lord knows
what a nigger would want with a can of spray adhesive?
I stood up to protest.
That will be all for this witness, Upton Rivers announced.
He turned to face the judge, Your Honor, Prosecution would like
to add grand larceny to that charge of murder against Mark Spade.
Done! the judge said.
I went to my table and took a long drink of water from a glass setting
there, and when I put the empty glass down it began to rattle. Mark was
so nervous the table was shaking. I would imagine he sensed better than
anyone else in that room how badly things were going. I looked at Margo,
who gave me her reassuring smile.
Councilor? the Judge called down to me. Are you all
right? If youre sick and would like to forfeit the trial, its
a beautiful day on the golf course.
No, was all I could manage. I went up to the witness stand.
Mrs. Applebottom, you said the building was having a fire drill
at the time the accused supposedly ran through the lobby?
Oh, he ran through the lobby all right; eleven oclock on the
dot.
Mrs. Applebottom, if all the City Hall workers were standing out
back on the sidewalk, how can you say you could see the clock inside the
building?
Oh, the District Attorney showed it to us later, on the security
video.
Theres a security video? I turned to the DA. Why
wasnt the defense notified about this video in discovery?
Because, he calmly replied, I figured youd probably
want to see it. Youve already caused this trial to go on lounger
than it should have.
Of course I want to see it, I told him. Have you got
it with you?
Its in my office waste basket.
Your Honor, I proposed, would the Court please retrieve
the video and play it so the jury can all see who is actually running
from the building, and whether or not that person is carrying a can of
adhesive spray.
Judge Throwbook thought about it, and seeing no way out, nodded for the
Bailiff to go get the tape. The Bailiff was back in minutes and stuck
the tape into a player. Television cameras backed away, and I moved to
where I could see the monitor on the table, and with the entire courtroom
watching, the video began. First we saw the usual morning people coming
to work through the lobby, and then the fire drill where everyone disappeared
for a while. The reception area was empty until Mark Spade, my client,
on trial for his life, came running across the lobby and out the door
like he had just killed somebody.
I looked at Mark.
I was late for work, he shrugged.
The video ended, but not before I noticed something else. It was almost
subliminal, just a flash of something that shouldnt have been there.
The video player was turned off, and the trial continued. I leaned close
to Margo in the Press section. Did you see that? I whispered.
She nodded. That clock on the wall skipped ahead two minutes right
after Mark left the building.
Youve got wonderful eyes, girl, I told her. Have
I told you that? She smiled as I added, This trial is about
to get real interesting.
Chapter Six
When the tape stopped playing I approached the Bench. Your Honor,
this tape reveals nothing that links my client with the murder. And I
would have the Prosecution take notice that nowhere on this video is my
client carrying a can of adhesive spray.
Yes, yes, Upton Rivers agreed. Your Honor, you can rule
the tape inadmissible. Prosecution suggests this tape is so irrelevant
that it should be destroyed immediately.
Done! Judge Throwbook yelled, bashing his gavel onto the desk.
But sir? I tried to intercede. Theres something
on the tape that needs to be examined. But it was no use. A police
officer came and took the tape from the player, and, with a second officer
to guard him, carried the tape away. The only exhibit I could have used
to save my client was now on its way to the incinerator.
The Prosecution next called the Nun, Sister Sarah. Sister Sarah,
the DA began, for what purpose were you in City Hall?
I went there to see the mayor about the orphanage.
Yes, Mayor Falseworth did love little children, didnt he?
And what time was this?
Eleven oclock. I followed the stairs to the second floor,
and found the mayor dead in the hallway outside his office.
What did you do then, Sister Sarah?
I nudged him with my foot to make sure he was dead.
Thats all I have for this witness, Upton Rivers told
the court, and went to sit next to his wife at the prosecution table.
She did not respond when he touched her arm. I sensed trouble in the enemy
camp. Or, maybe she was just upset over the death of the mayor.
Sister Sarah, I began my cross-examination, when was
the first time you met Mayor Falseworth?
When he came to close down the orphanage.
I object, the District Attorney said casually, getting to
his feet. Its the Mayors responsibility to save the
Millionaires money! And what does closing an orphanage have to do
with murder?
Sustained! the judge agreed, pounding his gavel.
Your honor, I protested, I am only trying to show for
the record that Mayor Falseworth was a hated man; there are many people
who would have liked to have seen him dead.
Record? Judge Throwbook said in dismay. He looked at the District
Attorney and they both chuckled with astonishment.
I had noticed there was no stenographer. I told the jury, Mayor
Falseworth ran a white slavery ring.
Upton Rivers stood up and proclaimed, For which he was awarded Ocussus
Businessman of the Year! The people applauded, coming to their feet.
I turned back to Sister Sarah. We looked at each other for a long moment.
Okay, I said, what did the mayor suggest you do with
all the homeless children who lived at the orphanage?
He moved those poor ragamuffins out into the streets to survive
any way they could. They were all so sick. He put a chain across the door
and padlocked it.
Again the crowd applauded, and the judge pounded his hammer hollering
above the crowd, Sustained!
I looked at Margo. Her face was now buried in her handkerchief. I had
one more question for my witness. Sister Sarah, at the time you
discovered the body, did you notice anyone else in the lobby or on the
stairway?
Yes, Going up the stairs I passed a woman on the stairs. She was
tall, dressed in a red and yellow flower-print dress from the fortys,
very colorful. She also had on a wide-brim hat, so I didnt see her
face.
Judge Throwbook looked at the clock on the wall, then at his wristwatch.
Its ten-thirty, he announced. The Court will now
recess for a round of golf, and meet back here at two-oclock.
I had noticed a little red label on the security cassette tape when the
clerk was pushing it into the player, giving the name of a local business
that processed the video. With Court recessed, Margo and I took a ride.
Hows the trial going? the young man behind the counter
asked. He had long hair, college age, good-looking kid.
Its going pretty badly, I told him.
Margo interceded, Youre doing all you can, Dewey. Surely not
everyone in that courtroom is without compassion. Just keep doing what
youre doing. Then she said to the young man, We just
watched a video tape during the trial that had your store's sticker on
it. Did the District Attorney of Ocussus bring a tape in here for any
kind or editing?
Yes, Maam. He had me remove a section of tape toward the end.
Margo smiled, Dear boy, I graduated high school last year; you dont
have to call me maam. Would you mind if we went in back and swept
up the pieces and tried to put the tape back together again?
Why dont I just give you the original? He put the VHS
tape in an envelope and handed it to Margo. Then he mentioned, My
Mama was the woman who invented Ocussus Cough Oil. Because of Mayor Falseworth
and his wicked henchmen she never got a dime. As we turned to leave
he added, Let me know if theres anything else I can do. Mama
would want me to help.
Chapter Seven
The trial resumed where it left off, with the District Attorney bringing
on his next witness. We call Slideball Willie to the stand.
Everybody knew Slideball Willie. An ex-ballplayer, he was a familiar sight
tooling around the streets of Shorty in his taxicab. Tall and skinny,
a red ball cap clutched enthusiastically in his hand, he climbed onto
the witness chair. The District Attorney began, Mr. Willie, state
your occupation.
Im the taxi-driver over in Shorty.
Has the Accused ever ridden in your cab?
Oh, sure. Every Friday morning Mark Spade have me take him on his
good-time ride.
And where does the accused go on these good-time rides?
Out to see Sapphire Lily in Broganville.
As District Attorney, I know Sapphire Lily to be a prostitute; is
this correct, Mr. Willie?
Well, since you already know, yeah, I guess so. Mark say Lily help
him relax so he can make it through the week. He dont walk too good
when he leave there; that why he pay me a dollar to drive him back to
town.
So, Mark Spade and this-this, whore, this Sapphire Lily, have sexual
encounters where they pour out their animal lust like the savages they
are?
I guess so. Mark always smiling when he come back.
Any woman who would sell her body is a repulsive, festering boil
upon this towns Christian soul.
Several Amens mumbled through the crowd, along with
calls to, Stone the bitch!
Upton Rivers went back to his table. Your Honor, this witness places
Mark Spade at the scene of the crime at the time of the murder; I have
no further questions.
I stood up and told the Court, Defense has no questions for this
witness at this time, but we would like to reserve the right to recall
Mr. Willie to the stand later in the trial.
Upton Rivers told the judge, Prosecution rests its case, Your Honor.
Judge Throwbook was asleep again and did not respond until the Bailiff
woke him. Then he came awake sputtering, trying to figure out where he
was, and once oriented, looked at the clock on the wall. Its
three-thirty, he announced. This trial will adjourn until
nine tomorrow morning.
I drove Margo to the airport and she got on a flight to Dallas. She was
going to check out a suspicion we had. After seeing her off, I went to
the Ocussus Police Station to survey the locker room in question. Everything
was as Mark described it, and I found nothing I thought we could use.
However, on the way out I passed the old evidence room were I found all
kinds of things, from weapons like ball bats and tire irons, and most
interesting of all, a rack of womens clothing along one wall; skirts,
dresses and suits, some including accessories such as matching shoes and
handbags from modern times to the forty's.
Margo came home on the two a.m. flight; I picked her up at the airport
and we went to my apartment to watch the tape. Fast-forwarding it to where
Mark went running through the lobby, we now got to see what Upton Rivers
had removed from the copy tape, the two minutes after the defendant left
the building. Margo pointed to the screen. Look, she said.
Its the old woman Sister Sarah saw on the stairway.
I was also pointing. And look what shes wearing.
Margos eyes got very big. We looked at each other the way we did
when we knew we were both thinking the same thing. Dewey, thats
the same dress worn by the woman in the car-wreck photo, the one we saw
on microfilm.
And the woman who was hit by lightning. But then I cautioned,
Or one just like it.
We sat on the edge of the couch as Margo rewound the tape and played it
several times. Dewey, she said, why would a woman who
died in a car wreck two years ago come walking through the Ocussus City
Hall lobby wearing the same dress she died in?
Even more mysterious, I offered, why would she come
back later that same night and have the misfortune to be struck by lightning.
She got killed in a car wreck, came back as an angel for a while, got
zapped by God; the woman couldnt catch a break.
This thing is getting scary, Margo said, sliding over next
to me.
I was scared, too, so I reached out pulled her even closer.
When the trial continued in the morning I opened with, Defense will
now call Mr. Rudolph Tucker to the stand. The huge man climbed into
the witness chair, and I had him explain to the jury how Mayor Falseworth
sold his daughter into white slavery. When he finished I was in tears,
but the jury seemed unmoved.
Upton Rivers stood up slowly, wearily,
shrugging his shoulders to the twenty men on the jury. He said, Id
like to remind the jury that Mayor Falseworth launched his own investigation
into that white-slavery thing and found there was absolutely nothing to
it. And I fail to see what one of Mayor Falseworths business ventures
has to do with cold-blooded murder.
Sustained! the judge bayed, pounding his hammer. Then to me,
Councilor, stay within the indictment.
But, Your Honor, I pointed out, there has been no indictment!
He assured me, There will be by the time of the hanging.
There was nothing else I could do.
The District Attorney asked the witness, Mr. Tucker, are you telling
this jury, in a court of law, on national television, that you wanted
to murder the mayor?
Yes, he admitted. After I learned the fate of my daughter,
it was comforting to think about killing the man who did it.
Upton Rivers threw out his arms. Your Honor, I request that this
witness be taken into custody as part of the murder plot.
What? I called out, as the crowd came to their feet cheering.
I rushed the bench. Your Honor, this is out of order!
Youre the one out of order, Councilor, the judge spat
at me, banging his gavel on the desk. Bailiff, escort the witness
to jail.
I pleaded, Your honor, I protest!
Judge Throwbook smiled, and leaned toward me. Do you have any other
defense witnesses ready to confess they wanted to kill the mayor?
My gallery of witnesses I brought in on a bus could have been watching
a Ping-Pong tournament the way their faces moved from side to side, and
I realized my only strategy had hit a brick wall. At the Defense table,
Mark had disappeared, and I found him unconscious under the table. Your
Honor, I called out, Will the Court please call a recess;
my client has collapsed.
Well, prop him up was the judges reply. The annual
Ocussus Preschool Picnic is this weekend and wed like to have the
hanging at that time. Its never too early to show our kids what
we do with Taxpayers who dont do what theyre told.
Since I had Mark in a standing position, and was not sure I could get
him there again, I walked him to the witness chair. Your Honor?
I had to shout above the boos and hisses, Defense will now
call the Defendant Mark Spade to the stand. Then the room went quiet;
I heard a paperclip drop. Sister Sara stepped down from the witness chair,
and she crossed herself when she walked past Mark. Still disoriented,
Mark pulled himself into the chair and braced himself there with stiff
arms.
Mr. Spade, tell the Court what happened in the Police locker room
on March fourth?
He paused a moment, but soon remembered. You mean about the beer?
Yes, Mr. Spade; tell us what happened.
Well, me and officer Hauberk were in the locker room drinking beer.
The beer was warm because I had to hide it in my car until the locker
room was empty. Drinking on police property is against the rules.
Then why did you do it, Mr. Spade? I asked.
Because I was depressed. I just returned from picket duty at City
Hall. It was voting day and it was my job to turn back people trying to
vote. You see, the voting ended at seven-fifteen that morning, but a lot
of people though fifteen minutes wasnt enough time to vote. There
was only the one voting booth, and the line went around the block.
Tell us what happened in the locker room.
Well, I was drinking beer with Officer Hauberk, helping him relax
after his hectic morning at the school crossing, when out of nowhere Upton
Rivers comes walking into the room. I know he saw me drinking beer because
I was pullin heavy on a can when he turned the corner. The man was even
wearing rubber gloves, the kind like those forensic detectives wear on
television, ready to grab up the evidence as soon as I put it down. But
you know what he did? He told me to throw the can in the trash, and get
the hell out of there.
What did you do?
I threw the can in the trash and got the hell out of there.
What happened to Officer Hauberk?
I waited outside the building, behind a dumpster across the street,
and pretty soon I see Rivers bring Hauberk out and put him in the back
of a police car. Rivers then went to his own car, got in, and drove away.
What did you do then, Mr. Spade?
I had to break that cop car window with a rock to get Hauberk outa
the back. The next day Hauberk got fired, but nobody said a word to me.
The DA stood up, Your Honor, I would like to add damage to city
property to the murder and larceny charges already pending against this
defendant.
Done! the judge announced, slamming his hammer.
But I no longer cared; none of this mattered to me any more. Since the
night before, while watching the video with Margo, I knew who the murderer
was. But before I would make my revelation, I wanted to check out some
other things. I told the Court, Defense will now call Sideball Willie
back to the stand.
The people began chanting as Mark left the stand, Hang him! Hang
him! while dancing rabbit-hop fashion along one of the isles. The
judge did not stop them. Willie came through the gate, nodded as he passed
Mark, and took a seat.
Mr. Willie, I said, trying to talk above the noise, what
time was it when my client rode in your cab last Friday morning?
It was near ten oclock.
But I understood you to tell the District Attorney you took Mr.
Spade out to Sapphire Lilys at eleven.
Thats what I usually do, most Friday mornings, but Sapphire
Lily, she out of town last Friday.
With the dialogue back to sex, the audience took their seats and again
became attentive.
So, if Sapphire Lily was out of
town, I questioned, why did the defendant have you drive him
to Ocussus City Hall?
Well, when Lilys out of town, Mark say he scrape the bottom
of the barrel and go see a white whore who works there.
Upton Rivers shot out of his seat. W-we have a prostitute working
in the City Hall building? he demanded. He was either genuinely
offended, or had been spending his own money elsewhere, certainly somewhere
less convenient.
Oh, no, Willie shook his head, she dont charge
Mark nothin; she in love with Mark.
Rivers was unimpressed. It doesnt matter if the defendant
writhed in Satans lust with a hundred women working in our building,
the accused still had plenty of time to murder the Mayor!
Your Honor, I pointed out, The District Attorney has
already had his chance to question this witness. By now I knew better
than to expect a confirmation, so I went on with my examination. Mr.
Willie, how did Mark and this woman employee get away with having sex
during office hours?
Mark say they do it in her closet.
Ah-hah! Upton Rivers burst out, again standing up. There
are only two closets in the whole building big enough for something like
that, mine and my wifes. And besides, my secretary told me there
were no visitors all morning.
Just the one, Willie corrected him. You see, this woman
sneak Mark in through a back way. He said it was even easier this time
because they was having a fire drill. I came back to pick him up a half-hour
later like he wanted me to. It just started to rain and he was late for
work, so he come runnin.
Ardonni, the judge yawned, is there some point to all
this?
Yeah, you Nazi sonofabitch, I thought to myself, and its coming
right up. I was on a roll. Willie, do you know who the woman was
that Mark Spade went to see?
Mark said he was too ashamed to let on about it; her name was the
one secret Mark swore hed take to his grave. Under no circumstances,
even the threat of death, would Mark reveal who the woman was.
Yes! Yes! Its all true! Witch Wanda exploded, standing
to her feet at the prosecutions table. It was me! I love Mark
Spade! Ive loved him since we were sweethearts in high school.
The District Attorneys wife walked across the isle to where Mark
sat cringing in his chair. Though she was looking at him, she was speaking
to her husband, Yes, Ill tell the world I love Mark Spade.
You can shoot him, hang him from a tree; drag him down the street behind
your pickup trucks, you can even give him to your friends down at the
KKK Lounge on Foutheenth Street to do with as they please, but even if
you were to tie him to the railroad track I will still love Mark Spade,
even when hes rotting in his grave!
Chapter Eight
Mark had again collapsed beneath the defense table, and I went to lift
him back into his chair. And then, with everyone around the world watching
the trial on satellite TV, Witch Wanda threw herself into Marks
lap. I cant help it, she cried above the ensuing uproar.
I love him! I love him!
Upton Rivers remained in his chair, taking it all very casually. With
his wife cuddled in the reluctant embrace of the defendant, Upton Rivers
asked without emotion, Wanda, my dear, how can this be?
The judge slammed his gavel. I cant see where the District
Attorneys wife having sex with some of us has anything to do with
the defendant murdering the mayor.
I told the Court, Your Honor, if you will allow me, I will prove
Mark Spade did not murder Mayor Falseworth.
The judge frowned, looking at his watch. Is this going to involve
a lot of legal stuff?
As little as possible, I promised. Turning to the District
Attorney, I said, Mr. Rivers, after you chased Mark Spade out of
the police locker room last Tuesday, you took Officer Hauberk outside
and locked him in the Police car. But when you got into your own car you
did not drive away as the witness assumed; you drove around the building
and parked in back of the police station. From there you returned to the
locker room, where you retrieved not only Marks beer can, but also
the knife you knew he kept in his locker. Thats why you were wearing
rubber gloves when Mark saw you, not anticipating a beer can, but to look
for some item in Marks locker with his fingerprints on it. What
a bonanza it must have been to catch him drinking from a dry aluminum
beer can.
Thats preposterous! The District Attorney scoffed. I
know nothing of this!
Then you took the can and the knife home and transferred the prints
to the knife handle.
He blurted. Thats impossible! Then to the judge, Your
Honor, Im not on trial here, the defendant is!
But you should be! I shouted, losing my composure, and at
the same time stunning the judge into silent confusion. With rubber
gloves on both hands, you sprayed the palm of one of them generously with
the adhesive spray you took from Mrs. Applebottoms supply cabinet.
Then you picked up Marks beer can with that same hand, and, gripping
it solidly in several places, caused Marks fingerprints to lift
off the can and onto the adhesive-coated rubber glove. It was then only
a matter of wiping Marks knife clean of prints, and gripping the
handle tightly to transfer Marks fingerprints from the glove.
What about the DNA evidence? Upton Rivers demanded. How
do you explain that?
During the procedure of lifting the prints from the beer can, you
inadvertently touched the rim of the can with the adhesive surface, thereby
lifting saliva cells from where Marks lips touched the can. Thats
why Marks DNA was on the knife handle with the fingerprints. There
is no other way it could have gotten there. I turned to the judge
and mentioned, If the Coroner will again evaluate the fingerprints
on the knife handle, he will also find spray adhesive along with the fingerprints
and DNA.
The District Attorney stood up and straightened his tie, smiling. How
could I do the murder, Ardonni? I was at the Wyatt Earp Motel in Dallas
on business. You can check with my secretary.
We checked with the motel. When we showed them your picture they
said they never saw you before. Mr. Rivers, you were here in Ocussus all
the time. I stepped to the VHS player next to the monitor and slid
the original security video into it. I pushed Play before anyone could
stop me.
That video was disqualified yesterday! Upton Rivers reminded
the judge.
Not this one, I interrupted This is the original; it
contains the two minutes of footage you removed. I had the tape
synced to the right place and for the first time the audience got to see
the old woman in the flower-print dress, walking across the lobby and
leaving the building after Mark.
Your Honor, the DA yelled, I request this tape be removed
from evidence and destroyed like the first one. It has obviously been
tampered with. Anyone can clearly see that extra footage has been added!
Sustained! the judge responded, and again the hammer cracked
down on his desk.
The incinerator cops came and ejected the new tape from the player, and
carried it away like they did the first one. Not missing a beat, I took
a large paper bag filled with clothing from beneath the defense table,
and emptied it out on top. Pulling a red and yellow flower-print dress
from the rest, I swung it around so it would unfold, and held it up so
the jury and audience could see. Then I showed them the crumpled white,
wide-brim hat, and the same purse and shoe Mark found the morning of the
lightning storm. The people mumbled with great interest, most of them
recognizing this dress as being identical to the one worn by the old woman
on the video.
H-how did you get that? Upton Rivers asked, with a slight
but audible gasp.
From the trash bin outside City Hall, where you stuffed it after
murdering Mayor Falseworth.
T-thats crazy!
I went to the old evidence room at the Ocussus police station and
discovered where you got the clothes for your disguise. That was you in
the video, Mr. Rivers, disguised as an old woman. You may have even known
that the dress you selected to wear, along with the purse and shoes that
went with it, were evidence from an auto accident years ago. But what
you couldnt have known was that a woman would be killed by lightning
the same morning you murdered Mayor Falseworth, on the same steps down
which you would casually walk away from your crime. We thought the purse
and a shoe belonged to the woman hit by lightning, but we were wrong.
They fell from the trash bin when it turned over in the wind; the items
of the disguise you were wearing when you murdered Mayor Falseworth.
I looked directly at the Prosecutor. I suspect you even watched
Mark get into Willies cab as you exited the building behind him.
Upton Rivers smiled. Okay, he said, casually, what if
its true? I knew my wife was having these sexual encounters with
the defendant, so I decided to get rid of him and Falseworth at the same
time. With the mayor out of the way, I could run the Ocussus Cough Oil
industry myself. I knew about my wife and officer Spade; what I didnt
know was she was doing it with every other man in town.
Not every other man, Upton, his wife corrected him, getting
up from Marks lap. Sure, she said, the judge now
and then, and the Kiwanis Club at Christmas parties, but no one lights
my flame the way Mark Spade does. She placed her hand on his shoulder.
The pandemonium never did quiet down after that, and I saw Upton Rivers
sneak out of the building through a side exit, leaving his assistant in
the tweed suit to finish the trial. Judge Throwbook reluctantly dropped
all charges against Mark Spade. He called for Mr. Tucker to be released,
and, slamming his gavel one last time, he announced, This court
is adjourned!
It looked like Upton Rivers was finished. His marriage was probably over,
and so was his career as a District Attorney. But, as people kept telling
me, I hadnt been there long.
Margo and I made a date to go to a movie that night, and she dropped me
off at the Herald parking lot to pick up my car. As she drove away I discovered
Upton Rivers sitting on my back bumper. He stood up and dusted his pants.
Next to his feet was a suitcase. Im leaving town, he
admitted outright.
You should stick around for your indictment, I suggested,
long past any capacity for tact.
He laughed at this. No, Ardonni, I dont have time for country
club prisons; you have to enjoy playing golf to stay in those government
jails.
The trial was on worldwide television, I reminded him. As
a prosecutor, I would think you would know the punishment for running
from a murder warrant. And why did you come to the Herald parking lot
to talk to me? You defy everything America stands for; surely you know
Im not going to assist you.
I didnt come here to talk to you. Im here because Im
getting out of Ocussus incognito, so to speak. The town council asked
me to take over as their mayor, but Ive had a better offer. To avoid
the airport and the news crews I told the pilot to pick me up here in
the Herald parking lot; its the only paved surface in all of Shorty.
And I dont need your help; Wanda and I made up on our own. Actually,
Ive had my eye on that Mark Spade for a while myself; Wanda simply
beat me to him.
I tried to speak but only made weird noises.
You see, he went on, Ocussus got so much publicity during
the trial, that the Repugnant Party wants me to run for President of the
United States in the upcoming election. They want Ocussus standards
to be Americas standards.
A deafening roar came over the building behind us, and a long black helicopter
swept over and landed on the Heralds asphalt parking lot. A ramp
was lowered.
Id like to stay around, Ardonni, the District Attorney
grinned, but America calls. And dont you worry; when Im
President, Ill be keeping a special eye on you. Still grinning,
Upton Rivers strolled up the ramp into the helicopter, and I watched them
fly away.
In the wee hours of morning, with the sun just beginning to lighten up
the horizon, Margo and I lay naked in her bed, propped up on pillows,
next to candle burning on a night table, with me softly strumming my guitar
while she read to me from an old newspaper.
It was a dark and stormy night, she read,
when Martha Smith lay dying in the bed she and her husband, Homer,
had shared for fifty-two years. When Martha Bagley was a teenager, working
in her fathers general store, Homer Smith was a traveling salesman
peddling Watkins products door to door. When one day a flat tire sent
him walking, he chanced to stop at the Bagley store and asked the pretty
girl behind the counter for a drink of water. This casual meeting would
result in one of the Spirits most perfect unions.
I love you, Martha, he told her two months later, when
he slipped a ring of gold upon her finger.
And I love you, Martha told him, on the day she passed
away. The kids were there, most of them grown now, Terry, Melissa Majors
(married), John, and Bill, on leave from the Air Force, all gathered for
the funeral. All who knew Martha Smith would assure you the soul of this
woman was bound for Glory. Services will be held Saturday at the Wilshire
Funeral Home.
After hearing my words read aloud I felt redeemed. See, I
said to Margo, I told Mr. Roback those obituaries would be worth
something one day.
Well, Margo smiled, maybe one day.
Chapter Nine
After the Mark Spade trial, my business doubled and tripled and eventually
I had to move into a larger office. I hired Margo as my secretary and
we moved my filing cabinets and computer down to the storefront office
on the first floor. With a mission to save the world, we settled into
life together as best friends, business partners, and lovers. We were
drinking our morning coffee beneath a tall cactus tree in my back yard,
getting ready to head into town and work, when she threw the newspaper
she was reading onto the table. How can there be a God if a man
like that can run for president? she asked, standing up. God
doesnt drive a Mercedes, and shes proud she's Black.
Margo picked up the tray of cups and spoons and went back into the hacienda.
I understand, I agreed, following her. I changed the subject.
What appointments have we got today?
Youll be busy all day. Except at noon you have a dentist appointment
at Dr. Baghdads office. They want to check your new crown. What
made you decide to go to Dr. Baghdad?
Hes a dentist. Plus I got a postcard from his office offering
a thousand dollars worth of free dental work to the first caller. It was
some grand opening thing.
So you called?
I waited two days to call. The offer just sounded too good, you
know? Must have sounded that way to a lot of people, because even after
two days I was the first caller. Actually, Im glad the appointment
is today; the bottom edge of the crown is irritating my tongue. I want
to get that looked at.
Well, you didnt even know you needed a crown, and now youve
got one. I guess its hard to beat a thousand dollars worth of free
dental work.
Dr. Baghdads office was upstairs in a small, posh shopping mall,
which seemed to be built entirely of Marble.
I dont know why Myrtle gave you an appointment at twelve,
Mr. Ardonni, the receptionist told me, hovering over a large book
on the desk.
Thats okay, I told her.
The appointment must have been made by our new girl, Lydia, whos
filling in for Myrtle whos on sick leave. Lydias performance
doesnt speak well for the temporary service we got her from. She
didnt even show up for work today.
Thats perfectly all right, Mrs. Wilson, I told her.
Ill just make another appointment.
That wont be necessary, Mr. Ardonni. Dr. Baghdad said I was
to call him at the golf course the instant you got here. Im sure
if you come back at two hell correct anything thats uncomfortable
to you.
Thanks, Ill do that. You guys are great.
You go have lunch, Mr. Ardonni, and Dr. Baghdad will see you at
two.
I went down the stairs to the phone booth and stepped inside to call Margo.
I had just picked up the receiver when a beautiful black woman in a black
trench coat came out of the shadows, took my arms, and pulled me around
beneath the stairwell. She whispered, Mr. Ardonni; your are in great
danger.
I had never seen this woman before. She looked very mysterious dressed
all in black, with big brown eyes, and bright red lips that tensed with
the seriousness of her words. You must not go to Dr. Baghdads
office at two.
How do you know about that? The nurse just set it up.
Ive been listening through ear phones. The people in Baghdads
office know me as Lydia, the temporary receptionist. Myrtle isnt
sick; shes in custody, so I could slip into Baghdads office
as a temp-employee. I gave you the wrong appointment on purpose when I
talked with you on the phone, Mr. Ardonni, so that, if it came down to
the wire like it has, I could warn you at the very last second.
Do I have cancer?
No, its nothing like that.
If I had cancer I would want to know.
You dont have cancer. Mr. Ardonni, She assured me.
Your name is Lydia?
Lydia will do. I am here to warn you that you are the unwitting
pawn in a suicide bomber plot to kill Upton Rivers, who is running for
President. Since I was able to stop you, you are saved. But, under no
circumstances are you to go back to Dr. Baghdads office.
I dont understand. Im supposed to have this crown checked.
We have been investigating Baghdad and his associates for months
now, she explained. We traced a small shipment of plutonium
into the country, a bomb was constructed, and it was smuggled to his office.
Why dont you arrest him?
We werent sure what he intended to do with the bomb until
ten minutes ago, when he called his contact and told them he had found
a carrier.
I would think it would be impossible to smuggle a bomb these days.
This bomb is no bigger than a tooth, Mr. Ardonni, with an explosion
powerful enough to take out a house. A bomb has been installed by Dr.
Baghdad into the mouth of an unsuspecting patient.
What are you trying to tell me, Lydia?
Mr. Ardonni, the bomb is in that crown inside your mouth.
I gasped, Theres a bomb in my head?
But its harmless, Mr. Ardonni. Dr. Baghdad had to wait a week
before arming it, to see if there were any complications. Thats
why I gave you the wrong time, Mr. Ardonni, so I could stop you on your
way to this appointment.
Are you with the CIA?
I represent a revolution taking place in America, Mr. Ardonni, honest
people who have had enough and want to take back their government from
the war mongers who run it. Its time to give America back to the
people. Democracy worked for a long time, and itll work again when
we are free.
I backed away, holding the wall for support. Lydia, Im sorry,
but this is insane. I can understand someone wanting to shoot me, but
to go to all the trouble of putting a bomb in my head, nobody would go
to that much trouble.
Its not you they want to kill, Mr. Ardonni, its the
District Attorney, Upton Rivers. He is running for President of the United
States, and at your interview with him next Thursday at the Shorty TV
station, the bomb in your mouth, if it was armed, would digitally explode
during the interview, killing Rivers and all witnesses. And with you being
the bomber, the bombing would surely be blamed on the Liberals.
My God, Lydia.
But thats not going to happen, Mr. Ardonni. Were not
going to allow you to arm the bomb.
Well, I certainly hope not.
President Waldo Badlove is an inept but harmless president. No matter
how pathetic he has been as our nations leader, no matter the extent
of his incompetence, his mindless ignorance is still preferable to the
evil jackboot-style government Upton River would bring to the office.
Under no circumstances can Upton Rivers become President. A Rivers presidency
would mean the end of Democracy as we know it.
I was even more confused, now that I knew all the facts. So, what
do we do now? I asked. Take the bomb off my tooth and explode
it somewhere in the desert?
If only it could be that simple, Mr. Ardonni. We cant remove
the crown until our scientists have had a chance to look at it. Theres
a chance its booby-trapped. Anything can be done digitally these
days, Mr. Ardonni, from fixed voting machines to digital bombs.
A young couple came from a corridor, but ascended the steps without noticing
us. Lydia stepped out from the darkness, and after looking in both directions,
took my hand and pulled me after her down an alley. Come,
she whispered, We need to get one of our scientists to look at that
crown.
The alley opened onto a street, where Lydia stepped to the curb as if
to signal someone. Tires screeched as a white van came around the corner
on two wheels and skidded to a stop in front of us. I though Lydia had
called them, until doors flung open and eight men in white overalls jumped
out and ran forward to take hold of her. Lydia punched and kicked them
handily, but was soon overcome by their number. A pistol in my face held
me neutral, as did the element of surprise, fear, and utter confusion.
I could only watch helplessly as the men wrapped Lydia in a straightjacket,
gagged her, and threw her into the van.
Sorry about all this, the driver told me, getting back behind
the wheel. That was Sally Jo; she escaped from the asylum last week
and weve been hunting for her ever since.
She seemed pretty serious, I offered.
What did she tell you, that youre part of a plot to kill the
President?
Well, yes.
Yeah, she tells that to everybody. In her mind shes a CIA
operative or something. Aside from being crazy, the woman reads too many
spy novels.
Well, Im glad shes back in your hospitals care.
Have a good day, he said, then put the van in gear and drove
away. Completely mystified, I walked back and forth on the sidewalk for
a while, trying to make sense of it all. The back street was deserted.
That crazy woman Lydia actually had me believing there was a bomb in my
tooth, and I certainly allowed her to take me anywhere she wanted me to
go. She should definitely be in sales. But the flange rubbing my tongue
was driving me crazy, I had to have it fixed. I went back to Baghdads
Clinic and found the place open but deserted, the receptionist and everyone
else seemed to be gone. The front door was held open by a canvas trash
cart. I called out, and when I heard a voice from one of the rooms, I
found a man about my age, dressed in a white medical smock, studying X-rays
he was holding up to a light.
I asked, Is Dr. Baghdad in?
Dr. Baghdad was killed in a car wreck on his way back from lunch.
The man kept looking at his X-rays. Thats where everybody
went; to the morgue. Is there something I can do for you?
Are you a dentist?
I like to think so.
On the bottom edge of the crown Dr. Baghdad put on my tooth, theres
a rough spot bothering my tongue. Would you be able to file it down for
me?
Get in the chair; Ill take a look at it.
Do you know who I am? I asked.
Yes. Your information is all right there on that chart Dr. Baghdad
left with his instruments.
I would like to look at that.
Sure.
But first, could you file down this flange before my tongue starts
bleeding?
He flicked on the light above us, and picked up an instrument from a tray.
I told him, Dont pull any teeth, or stick in any needles;
theres no complicated surgery here; I just want you to file down
the flange. When I saw him bending his knees to look into my mouth,
I suggested he raise the chair. Its that lever, I indicated,
after he had pushed the wrong one several times. With the chair finally
horizontal and the light in place, he began to probe inside my mouth.
There it is! he grinned, obviously thrilled with his discovery.
Thats a crown, all right.
I moved his hand so I could talk. Remember, all you have to do is
find the flange and file it down; nothing else.
I could feel the friction as he scraped the area that had been bothering
me. He soon asked, How does that feel?
I rubbed my tongue against the crown. Hey, thats great. Its
smooth. I got up from the chair and he followed me into the reception
area. I retrieved my coat from a hook. Im sorry to hear about
Dr. Baghdad, I told him. Ill call later to see if the
clinic will remain open. Thanks for filing down the flange.
Oh, I didnt file it down, he said. I just
moved it out of the way.
Out of the way?
Obviously proud of his work, he went back and got the clipboard from the
instrument tray, and, pointing to the chart, he said, See that little
thingy-m-bob right there on this drawing of your crown.
That was the flange?
It was a switch. Again he referred to the chart. Right
there, see? It says, Arm crown by pushing switch from Off to Armed
position.
I screamed in his face and it startled him. He staggered back against
the reception desk, toppling books and files to the floor. I fell to my
knees in the middle of the room. What have you done? I cried.
I put my finger in my mouth, feeling for the switch. It broke off and
I nearly swallowed it. Who the hell are you? I demanded, getting
back to my feet, spitting out pieces of the plastic switch. Do you
really work here?
Of course I work here.
Are you a dentist?
Im the janitor.
Janitor? But you were looking at X-rays, and youre wearing
that medical coat?
This is my janitor coat. And I was looking at the X-rays to see
if I could find some dirty ones.
X-rays of teeth?
I always wanted to be a dentist, he said, going to the door.
I like to play around in here after they go home at night, but this
is the first time I actually had somebody to work on. He opened
the door. Well, Im glad I could help you. Maybe I should take
up dentisting in night school.
When I did not reply, he pushed the canvas trash-wagon out into the hallway
and let the door close behind him. The name Dewey Ardonni will go down
in history as the stupidest person who ever walked the earth. Lydia had
been telling the truth, there was a bomb inside my head, and with the
help of this janitor I just armed it. I walked as if in a trance, forcing
one foot in front of the other. I was going to die next Thursday night,
if the rest of Lydias predictions came true. I was thinking about
Lydia when, like a bad flashback, there she was again at the bottom of
the stairs.
What are you doing here? she demanded, surprised to see me.
Look whos talking? I though they took you back to the asylum.
I let them get a block away so you wouldnt be in harms
way, and then I killed them all and stacked their bodies in a dumpster;
the van is at the bottom of the East River. They were Rivers people.
Theyre aware of an assassination attempt, but they dont know
about the bomb in the crown. She became concerned. Why are
you still here?
I went ahead and told her. The crown was bothering me so I had someone
look at it, and, well, they accidentally armed it.
Margo looked me as if I had just punched her between the eyes with my
fist. Preventing the arming of that bomb was so important, Mr. Ardonni,
she explained, that I had Dr. Baghdad assassinated on his way back
from playing golf. The other office workers are in custody so that none
of Baghdads staff would be in the office should you, for any reason,
no matter how ridiculous, try to get in. Mr. Ardonni, if all the gates
were locked and the vault sealed, how did you managed to get the bomb
armed anyway?
It was a mistake anybody could have made, I explained. I
got the janitor to do it.
Mr. Ardonni, you must understand that now that the bomb is armed
there is no way we can prevent it from going off.
I considered this in silence.
But your demise doesnt have to be for nothing. Terrorists
are not behind this assassination, Mr. Ardonni, Americans are. I represent
all the freedom-loving people around the country who are fighting to take
America back. While it is true the Republican Party would kill their own
mothers in their sleep and think nothing of it, the Repugnants are even
worse. They would die to the last man protecting a criminal such as Upton
Rivers. And you Liberals would insist on fair play and honesty and doing
things legally, with search warrants and court orders. Do you know how
hard it would be to get a court order to assassinate a President?
I didnt know you could do that.
As spokesperson for this revolution, Mr. Ardonni, and since there
is no way we can disarm the bomb, I would ask that you allow the plot
to play itself out; let the bomb explode at the interview in the presence
of District Attorney Rivers.
But, Ill die. A lot of people will die. Look, Lydia, its
one thing to ask me to sacrifice myself, and were still arguing
about that, but to include Margo and her people along with the scores
wholl be standing around watching; it would be wrong.
Because of your sacrifice, Mr. Ardonni, she continued, as
though I had said nothing, our children might grow up in a Democracy.
The future of America depends on what you decide to do.
Why dont we just shoot the sonofabitch, I suggested.
Why do hundreds of people have to die to get one man?
Mr. Ardonni, this is America. While we freely assassinate our greatest
leaders, under no circumstances do we shoot the bad ones. America does
not shoot its enemies in the back. Again she took my arm and led
me out through a corridor, this time to where a long, black sedan was
parked. We got in, and she drove us out onto Archer Road and west toward
the Interstate.
Lydia, I dont think I want to go through with this. I need
to call Margo, let her know whats happening.
Under no circumstance can you tell anyone about this, Mr. Ardonni.
A hint of a whisper could neutralize our plan. For the next five days,
eliminating Americas most evil enemy, the President, and saving
Democracy for our children, should be the only thing on our minds.
She looked at me with true compassion. So, to make sure you dont
contact anyone, were going to put you in Witness Protection. I like
you, Mr. Ardonni. Ill see you live out your last days on this earth
in relative peace and quiet. And then, Thursday, when its time to
kill the President, Ill come and personally escort you to the interview.
Chapter Ten
I woke up just before dawn when a cool ocean breeze chilled my body. Lydia
had chloroformed me, or somehow got me here; I woke up face down in the
grass under a palm tree. I could smell salt water, and looking around,
saw the ocean through the trees. My head started to clear and I began
to comprehend my situation. I was on a small jungle island with a white,
sandy beach, and it seemed I was alone. I was certainly not in Witness
Protection, unless the inhabitants there carried spears. Across a channel
I could see land a couple miles away, and considered I should swim it
while I had the strength. At the top of a hill in the center of my island
I could see a small hut, made of bamboo, covered over with palm fronds,
all surrounded by beds of brightly colored flowers. I had just started
up the path to investigate when I noticed a note stuck in my pocket. I
pulled it out and read, Mr. Ardonni, as long as you have to die
you might as well enjoy your last hours on earth. The boatload of girls
and the beer barge will arrive tomorrow at noon. So, relax and enjoy yourself.
I will come and get you for the Rivers interview.
Mr. Ardonni, the consensus of the others was to let you die a Martyr
without even telling you, but I would have none of that. I was at the
Mark Spade trial; you are a very talented lawyer. I cant say much
for your reasoning outside the courtroom, but inside, youre a natural.
Anyone who fights for freedom the way you do deserves to live as long
as possible. But now that the bomb is armed, everything has changed; there
is nothing I can do. Our country is depending on you, Mr. Ardonni. Unless
we remove the cancer that is killing America, all may be lost. You are
in the unique position of going down in history as the man who saved his
country.
The waterway between this island and the mainland over there is
known as Shark Channel, so dont try to swim across. Thursday will
be here before you know it, Mr. Ardonni, and it will all be over. We intend
to put honesty, integrity, and compassion back into the American ideal,
and you are the key to that end. Relax and enjoy your last days on earth.
I folded the paper and put it back in my pocket. So this was Witness Protection.
I went up to the hut and pulled back the cloth covering the doorway. A
small table stood in the center, a lighted candle burning on top, and
each wall had a large window, one looking out into the palm grove, and
the other out over the ocean. It wasnt bad, considering it was to
be my last home on this earth. Of course, I wasnt going to take
this lying down. The wheels began turning the instant I realized Lydia
wasnt crazy, and everything was real. I had a bomb inside my tooth
that was going to blow up unless I could escape this island and find somebody
willing to remove it.
After giving the matter some thought, I decided I might be able to escape
if I could attract the attention of someone on the mainland. I tried to
do this by building a fire. I was never in the Boy Scouts, but I did learn
to send smoke signals on my own, the way some people learn Morse code;
its just something I figured might come in handy some day. Gathering
all the dry driftwood I could find, I built a fire on the beach, and then,
by laying a green palm frond over the flames and removing it at intervals,
I caused little white clouds of smoke to rise into the sky, spelling out
this message, Attention people on the mainland. Please help me.
I am stuck over her on this island with a bomb in my head thats
going to explode any second and kill everything within quarter-mile. Will
someone please come over in a boat and rescue me?
All night I waited for rescue but no one came. The second day I was gathering
more driftwood for another fire, when I heard music in the distance. From
a hiding place in the palm grove, I could see a small tugboat approaching,
pulling two large barges. One was a square tank set on pontoons, presumably
filled with beer, and the other was an open barge with about twenty beautiful
girls in bikinis. On the front of the tugboat, a scratchy CD played, For
Hes A Jolly Good Fellow, over and over through a cheap speaker.
I was going to bolt for the tugboat as soon as the girls disembarked,
and somehow commandeer the tug. The girls dove off their boat as it neared
land, and came up on the beach completely naked. They had obviously been
drinking my beer, for they staggered a bit coming out of the surf. They
were a few steps up the path to the hut when I leaped from my hiding place
and sprinted for the boat. It would be just like Lydia to include a couple
of her assassins among the girls to make sure I didnt try something
like this, so I had to move fast. The tugboat engine was still running,
and the pilot, a man in his twenties like me, had been watching the girls
in the surf. The saliva on his chin suggested he could be reasoned with.
I cant let you have the tug, mister Ardonni, he told
me outright. You know Lydia; shell kill me.
Think about it; instead of me up there in that little hut with all
those girls and beer, itll be you, living the life of the Martyr.
Ill do the dying, and you do the partying.
The keys are right there, he said, and, pulling a lever, stepped
up onto the dock and pushed the barges free. Maybe you should give
me a black eye or something so I can show Lydia I fought to restrain you.
I laughed. Im sure youll be plenty bruised by the time
Lydia gets here Thursday. If you cant get lucky with this setup,
friend, youre not a real tugboat captain.
If Lydias thoroughness and sixth sense had done nothing else they
had instilled paranoia in my mind. That woman who could see through walls
and could surely find me no matter where I hid. I docked the tug at the
first land I came to, and called Margo collect from a pay phone. I suspected
Lydia would have my girlfriends phone bugged, so I pretended to
be someone else.
Margo answered, Hello?
Miss. Angelino?
This is Deweys Pizza Parlor. We have that pizza your ordered,
but our truck is broke down and we need for you to come and pick it up.
I dont remember ordering a pizza. Where are you located?
Baton Rouge, Louisiana.
A moments silence, then Margo asked, Who the hell is this?
I noticed a building across the street from the phone booth. If
you meet our pizza truck at the Trinity Rescue Mission you can pick up
your pizza there. Be sure and wear your rain coat; it's Dewey outside.
Finally. Certainly, she said, realizing it was me. Now
I remember ordering that pizza. Ill rent a car, close up the office,
cancel the paper, withdraw a thousand dollars gas money from my bank,
and come pick up my pizza. Give me about six hours. How did you get to
Baton Rouge?
Ill tell you all about it when you get here.
When I saw her car pull to the curb, I ran out, got in, and I grabbed
her and hugged her as we drove away. Its good to see you,
I said, kissing her cheek. You wont believe what Ive
been through.
She turned the car onto a country road and we drove across Louisiana toward
Shorty and home. People have been looking for you all over the Harold
building, she told me. Men and women dressed like spies.
I told her the story of the crown and the supposed bomb inside. She was
quiet for a while, and soon pulled off the road into the trees. There
was no one following us, and there seemed to be no helicopters around.
I refuse to believe theres a bomb inside your crown. But if
there is, it should be easy enough to remove.
I explained, Lydia will have all the dentists offices staked
out. And she said it might explode if I try to remove it.
Dewey, the only person who thinks your crown contains a bomb is
some crazy woman you say is on her way to an insane asylum.
I saw her since then, after she killed all the men in the van and
dumped their vehicle in the East River.
Dewey, we dont have an East River. Theres only the Cheyenne,
and its only two feet deep.
Well, shes new here. Looking from Ocussus, the Cheyenne River
is east.
Yes, yes, whatever. Whats important now is that we find out
if the crown on your tooth is dangerous like this Lydia person makes it
out to be.
Im glad you can think, Margo. Its more than I can manage
right now.
Trust me, she said, and started the car. We drove to the next
town and rented a room at a small motel. We hid out there while we racked
our brains for what to do. During the night she remembered a dentist she
had interviewed for the paper, so in the morning we went to the location.
It was in one of the Taxpayer Camps outside the walls of Ocussus. The
original buildings had been bulldozed, and cardboard shanties of the homeless
now covered the area. The dentist, however, was still there. Sure,
I remember you, the sickly little man said to Margo, as he opened
his corrugated tin door for us. You were the newspaper woman doing
a story on we Medal of Honor war veteran living here in shanty town.
That was me, Dr. Molar, Margo smiled, taking his hand. My
friend Dewey has a crown he would like you to look at. Are you still licensed
enough to do something like that?
Sure, sure; I can do that. Ill have that thing out of there
in no time.
I interrupted, I dont want you to remove it, Doctor, just
look at it and tell me if it would be safe to remove it.
Safe? Why shouldnt it be safe; its just a crown. What
is it, one of those terrorist bomb crowns Ive heard about?
Yes.
Well, let me look at it. Ive pulled thousands of teeth. Not
many bombs, though.
Margo tried to help. Dewey thinks spies from outer space have armed
his head with a bomb placed in a dental crown. So that he can relax, we
want to see if it can be removed?
Sure. Come, Dewey, sit down here on this orange crate and Ill
take a look.
He turned on an aluminum construction lamp above us, pulled it closer,
than began probing around inside my mouth with his fingers. I was about
to ask if he had washed his hands, when he announced, Yep. I see
where the switch was. Youre armed, all right. Why in Gods
name did you let somebody arm it?
Its a long story, Dr. Molar, I said. Can it be
removed?
Its one of those suicide bombs I read about in Homeless Bow
Hunter Magazine. Theyre dangerous stuff. If it was on the lower
jaw, we could just remove it along with a few teeth, but since the tooth
is attached to your skull, we might have to remove part of your brain
along with it.
Thats going to hurt.
Well, yeah; but Ill give you a couple shots of whisky.
Ill tell you what, Dr. Molar, since we have a few days to
make up our minds, my friend Margo and I will just go home and think it
over. If we decide to have it pulled well come see you again.
Thatll be fine. Ill have that thing out of there in
no time.
Chapter Eleven
Tuesday came and went, then Wednesday morning, and by the time the sun
was going down Margo and I were in her car, screeching back to Dr. Molars
hovel. It had rained that afternoon and the cardboard entranceway to his
office crumbled when we knocked on it. Inside we found an old woman folding
clothes from a dresser into an old suitcase. Im sorry, folks,
she told us, Dr. Molar died this morning, Then she recognized
me. Youre the patient with the bomb?
We did not reply, but left, heading home to the motel in a deep depression
to rest up for my execution. Gone was every chance to remove the bomb
before it went off. Lydia would have all the regular dentists staked out,
so that option was out. It seemed I was destined to die for my country
whether I wanted to or not.
Lydia was already at City Hall when Margo and I arrived at six oclock.
She was at the top of the steps, looking through the faces hoping to find
mine. I saw my mother but she pretended not to see me. I had tried to
call her and warn her about the bomb, but she would not answer her phone.
As we approached, Lydia recognized me and smiled. She said, Imagine
my surprise when I arrived at the island and you werent there.
I missed my sweetie, I explained, putting an arm around Margo.
Well, now that youre here, Mr. Ardonni, you may not leave
again. My people intend to keep you and the President in this studio until
the bomb goes off at seven.
When the Repugnant Party found out Upton Rivers owned the cough oil syrup
that was killing hundreds of thousands of innocent men, women, and children,
they elected him President of the United States. President Badlove was
impeached at the point of a gun, for failing to live up to the Repugnant
Party standards of corruption and moral disease, and Rivers put in his
place. Still resenting my having won the Spade trial, the new President
did everything from illegal wiretaps to reading my mail in attempts to
slander me and destroy my practice. But the strange thing about Texans
is, it may take years, but they eventually catch on. I had always proved
myself to be an honest lawyer and everyone knew it, including Upton Rivers.
What about you?
Oh,
Ill leave a few minutes early. I still have to fight the fight,
Mr. Ardonni. Upton Rivers is not the only slime on the Repugnant pond.
I told Margo, You should leave. And Ill see if my mother will
go with you.
Im not leaving you, she insisted. I dont
believe there is a bomb. I believe an assassination attempt might take
place, and if successful, you will be blamed for it; but I refise tp believe
theres a bomb in your tooth.
I cant stay and die with Mr. Ardonni, Lydia told Margo,
but you can if it will make you feel any better.
What about all these innocent people? I asked Lydia. Everybodys
going to die.
Theyre mostly Rivers followers. They came in from the
airport in those busses parked outside. Thousands of Repugnant Party members,
congregated shoulder to shoulder like the sewer scum they are. The world
will be a better place without them.
Nobodys going to die, Margo insisted. Dewey and
I will cover this interview like we were paid to do, then were leaving.
Margo went away to join her people on the stage, where they were setting
up for the interview. Upton Rivers was already seated, a young lady was
attaching a microphone to his lapel.
I told Lydia, Im supposed to be on stage so I gotta go. I
cant explain the tugboat and the island, but I feel like this whole
thing has been some kind of game. Before long someones going to
step out and give me my idiot certificate. I think Margos right;
there is no bomb in my crown.
Well, Dewey, Lydia said, calling me by my first name for the
first time, youll be the first to know.
The Shorty Television Station where the interview was to be held was small,
with a studio and an office off to the side, with a small foyer at the
entrance. They only had one camera, and it looked like it was patched
together from a lot of other cameras. But apparently it worked, as did
most of the stage lights, and some of the microphones. The broadcast would
reach ten miles around Shorty. Margo turned to the President. I had prudently
taken the third seat down from him. An engineer sitting at a darkened
console counted down from five and the interview began.
Margo asked the President, Mr. Rivers, enlisting the entire United
States Special Forces as your personal bodyguard was a bold move, especially
by someone who already calls himself Dictator of America.
Its all in the new Constitution, he said casually. I
didnt use all the Special Forces, just the Green Berets. They also
do my laundry, and generally clean up around the place. Now that Im
President, Ill be moving the government from Washington to my summer
place on the beach in Hawaii. Since the old Constitution has been standing
in the way of everything I want to do for our great country, I tossed
it out and wrote a new one.
Margo pressed on. Mr. Rivers, your powers as Presidnet have exceeded
any in history. For example, you have incorporated Zappa, Mexico into
the Ocussus city limits, against their will and against the venomous protests
of Mexico.
He opened his mouth to reply, but she already had the answer.
Is it because Zappa has the last soil on earth capable of growing
Green Scorpion Cacti, the main ingredient in Ocussus Cough Oil? Youve
depleted the nutrients and added so many chemicals to your own soil that
your farms can'tt even grow sandspurs. So, you invaded an innocent
town to get theirs. How did you think you would get away with that, Mr.
Rivers?
Look for yourself, its in the new Constitution. Any country
capable of growing Green Scorpion Cactus must do so, or be bombed by the
United States.
Some people might consider that un-American.
Un-American? Upton Rivers scoffed. How more American
can it be? We took a town full of ignorant, poor, badly dressed people,
who arent even white and who cant hardly speak no good English,
and we turned them into Americans. They now dress like us, act like us,
answer to names like Frank and Joe, names we can pronounce, and theyve
learned English so they can follow our orders without an interpreter.
The truth is, Miss Angelina, if the Ocussus Cough Oil Company had not
stepped in and occupied the town of Zappa, the United States would have
been forced to bomb it. And Mexico knows better than to complain too loudly.
Sure, theyre a lesser people. We despise them but we need them.
Our butlers and maids are so rich its hard to get them to clean
up a real mess, so we have to bring in some Zappa people now and then.
Like our own Taxpayers, theyre so hungry theyll work for anything.
And you get all their Green Scorpion Cacti.
Of course.
Margo told her guest, Mr. Rivers, you were on the cover of Time
last month, not for any political or humanitarian deed, but because Ocussus
Cough Oil has killed six hundred thousand innocent people. People who
would otherwise be breathing and living normal lives today.
We feel bad about collateral damage in this thing, Miss Angelina.
But they didnt die from the cactus oil; they died from the preservative
my brother has a bid-free contract to provide.
Have you considered perhaps changing preservatives?
You dont understand; were all making so much money."
"You serve as consultant and have
a trust fund, Mr Rivers; you make money off every child that dies.
"Well, there you go."
I understand you are being deluged with lawsuits.
Not since I rewrote the Constitution. That took care of that. The
new Amendment say its a felony to report a death caused by our cough
oil. Amendment Two requires two bottles of Ocussus Cough Oil to be mandatory
in every medicine cabinet. And my favorite, the Third Amendment, guarantees
youll go to jail if you so much as wag your finger at the President.
Rivers sees the expression on Margos face. How do I get away
with it? He laughed, and leaned forward to touch her knee with his
index finger. Because Americans are idiots!
Margo now did the thing I feared she would do since the interview began;
she looked at me and opened her mouth to ask me a question. Mr.
Ardonni, the President just called you an idiot. As an American citizen,
what is your response?
What could I say? Hes right, I answered. And, not thinking,
added, I just armed a bomb inside my head.
Margo covered my blurb immediately. Yes, Mr. Ardonni, it seems we
all have bombs ticking away inside our heads these days. Its just
a sign of the times. Were so glad you could join us.
Glad to be here, I replied, trying to smile.
She continued, After devastating Prosecutor Rivers at the Mark Spade
trial, Mr. Ardonni, and making him look like a rattlesnake run over by
a sixteen-wheel truck, were you surprised when the Repugnant Party wanted
him to be President of the United States?
But before I could answer, the District Attorney snarled, Devastated
me? Having deciphered Margos not-so subtle comment, he stood
up. This interview is just another Liberal attempt to discredit
President. Look, if America hasnt complained about six-hundred thousand
deaths from my cough oil, do you think they give a shit about some Mexicans?
Dont talk like that on the air, Margo told him.
Ill talk any way I want. Ardonni may have beat me in that
fixed trial, but hes still shuffling divorce papers back in Shorty
while Im walking up the steps to the White House. He turned
to me. Ardonni, lets take a walk.
I looked around for Lydia, and Im sure she was out there somewhere
in the dark, but I couldnt find her. Upton Rivers was a crazy person.
He reached out and took me by the arm, pulled me from my chair and off
the stage, our microphones snapped off as he dragged me around the camera,
through the people standing around, and into a small room at the entrance.
Margo wanted to intercede, but found herself wired to the console. One
of Rivers men, a big man in a black and white pin-stripe suit, his
hat tilted perpetually over his eyes, followed us into the room and closed
the door behind him. He locked it, pulled the shade over the glass door;
then took a position against the wall. I soon heard Lydia knocking at
the door and calling my name. The room had another door on the opposite
side, over which there was a sign saying, Exit.
What are you doing, Upton? I asked him.
This country isnt big enough for both of us, Ardonni.
You cant leave; youre the President.
Not me, smart ass, you!
Margo joined the protesters outside and I could hear her voice over the
others. Im sure Lydia was freaking out with both Rivers and I so
close to an exit, but I was just as sure she had the building surrounded
by her assassins.
Without a word, Rivers balled up his fist and smashed me beside the head
with all his strength. I hit the far wall without touching the floor,
bounced off and came rolling back to lie at his feet. To say I was taken
by surprise would fall far short of expressing my total confusion: I had
just been slugged in the face by the President of the United States. In
the movies this would have been done by the goon, and in truth, I had
been wary of him. As I lay momentarily helpless at the District Attorneys
feet, I could see him lift back his foot to kick me. It came at me in
slow motion, like I was weighed down by concrete, and all I could do was
watch his shoe coming straight toward my face. When it landed, four significant
things happened: My head snapped back, pain encapsulated my entire being,
cracking sounds emitted from my jaw, and the little white crown spit from
my mouth like it had been shot from a slingshot. Pa-tooey! The crown bounced
off the leg of Rivers goon, who picked it up and showed it to his
boss. Look, dis; Boss, it one his tooth.
Stand aside, Spike, Rivers told him, Ill get you
another one. As the District Attorney prepared to kick me again,
I noticed the goon put the crown into his pocket. My smile, at this particular
point in my beating, so unnerved Rivers that he held his kick and instead
stepped back. Others had joined Margo and Lydia pounding at the door,
so finally Rivers gave his goon the nod and the door was opened. It exploded
inward with the push of the people, and Margo ran to me and lifted my
head from the floor, comforting me against her breast. She glared up at
Upton Rivers and demanded, What did you do to him?
He slipped and fell on this new-polished floor. I tried to help
but accidentally kicked him in the goddamn head.
With the spitting out of the crown containing the supposed bomb, and with
the crown being pocketed by Rivers goon, I wanted to get as far
away from there as soon as possible. Its all right, Margo,
I told her, standing up and helping her to her feet. Im okay.
I just slipped like the man said. We need to get out of here.
But she would not budge, telling Rivers, I dont believe you.
If it takes all day were going to wait right here until the police
come.
Rivers laughed, Police? Bitch, Im the President. You ever
hear of executive privilege; the law cant touch me.
Margo, its all right, I encouraged her. Just let
the sonofabitch go his way.
See? There! she exclaimed, turning at me. Youre
pissed, too. I knew something happened in this room. Even as I pulled
Margo toward the door, she continued her evaluation of Rivers, You
scumbag bastard; you have no right to destroy Dewey simply because hes
a better man than you!
Upton Rivers moved to come at me again, but thought better of it with
all the witnesses. Lydias assassins were waiting and they helped
us extradite ourselves from the room, but they wouldnt let us leave
the building. Rivers, however, with his Special Forces bodyguard outnumbering
Lydias people five-to-one, succeeded in getting Rivers out of the
building and down to his limo without a problem. His followers trailed
behind, scrambling out across the lawn and into the ten or so busses lined
up behind the President's limo.
My mother passed me on her way out, and this time I stopped her. Dont
follow Rivers limo, Mother. Something bad is going to happen.
Bad? Like what? You Liberals put a bomb in his car? Is he going
to blow up at the corner of Aspiration and 34th?
I could see Lydia waiting for me. Dont follow Upton Rivers
limo, Mother, and call me anytime you want a ride to Thompsons Tavern.
I enjoyed our get-together.
Yes, yes, of course; well have to do that again. Well, so
long, Dewey.
Good-bye, Mother. She walked away, and we went to join Lydia.
The secret agent said to me, Time for me to go, Mr. Ardonni. I suggest
you find a vacant lot somewhere and sit in the middle by yourself and
wait for it to happen. When you accidentally armed that bomb, I decided
you were short on brains outside a courtroom. But in spite of that, you
were willing to sacrifice yourself for your country. Anyone less patriotic
might consider their own life more important than the future of their
children. Its been good to know you, Mr. Ardonni; you have about
ten minutes to do whatever you intend to do with the remainder of your
life. Id suggest making love with your woman, but Im the romantic
type. Its impossible to keep perfect timing during an act of passion,
and in this case you wont have a second to spare. But it wont
matter to me what you do; Ill be on a mission in another country
by then.
Lydia said to Margo, Im sorry about all this. You almost had
you a good man. But shit happens. Look, Im listed in the book under
Bathroom Fixtures, Tile, Tubs and Assassinations. People think its
a typo for Accessories, but its not. After a proper mourning period,
Margo, give me a call, well have lunch.
Lydia, look! I said, putting my finger in my mouth and pulling
my cheek aside. The crowns gone.
Seeing the crown missing, she immediately stepped back and began looking
for it on the floor.
No, I told her, Upton Rivers bodyguard has it.
It popped out of my mouth when he hit my jaw, and his goon picked it up
and put it in his pocket.
A smile eased across her face. Then well get him anyway. Somewhere
on the freeway the bomb will explode; and its going to happen in
about eight minutes.
This made me uncomfortable. Those innocent people in the busses
following Rivers limo; they need to be stopped.
Innocent? Who do you think will put Satan in power?
They dont deserve to die for that. This is America.
Not any more its not, Mr. Ardonni. When a man can tell the
American people, I was sent from the planet Pluto to lead you,
and they fall at his feet as the new Messiah, America has lost its sense
of reality. Today America belongs to the fat man with the big wallet,
totally lacking in ethics, morals, compassion, and truth. Anyone who supports
Upton Rivers and the Repugnant Party at this point in the game is a traitor
to America. Even with the fixed voting machines and the purging of opposing
voters, millions of Repugnant cockroaches came come out of the outhouse
walls to make this corrupt, obscene man President. Lydia went to
the door, looked back and said, Good bye, Mr. Ardonni, it has certainly
been interesting.
You can have the spy game, Lydia, I told her. But she was
gone, and soon Margo and left the building. A half-hour later we were
making love in her bed when suddenly the entire house shook and ceiling
plaster flaked down upon us. While most people suspected an earthquake,
we knew exactly what it was. It was freedom; it was the salvation of America.
POSTSCRIPT: Upton Rivers did not die in the explosion. He had his chauffeur
stop the limo at a Jiffy Serve, and sent his goon inside to get him a
Frosty-Twirl. While his bodyguard was inside the store the bomb in his
pocket went off. Luckily he was behind the Frosty Twirl machine and no
one else got killed. And certainly not Upton Rivers, inside his bullet
and bomb proof limousine out in the parking lot; he escaped without a
scratch. Upton Rivers is indeed still with us, and he's still President,
and our lifes confrontation had only just begun.
Contact me: rudyyoung@bellsouth.net
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