Tony cut some deep trenches with a huge moldboard plow that was mostly used for raising terraces to prevent erosion in wheat and cotton fields. By running both ways, he was able to make 2' deep trenches for the expected crab and shrimp junk. Keith marked their locations by driving some huge spikes into the tarmacadam road.
The band continued to play the usual gigs at Al's. Keith and his fellow band members were making more than they were spending. The income from the albums increased a little when Bert was calling all day, but came back down. They were not impressing the market. Orders from Argentina slowed after Juan had given away his gift albums. Keith finally got enough new music done for a fifth album. It issued, and sold a little. Sarah said the publisher was happy with it, because it was in the black, but obviously hoping for much more. Syd Silver got some of their music used on a movie, but the rates were fixed and not very high. Syd cross licensed the film of her dive off the Gate Bridge, and some interviews.
Juan wanted the whole thing in one box, and proposed they do a DVD of Thanksgiving with Bert McCall to put in there, too. He wanted 3,000 to send out for Christmas. The publisher was happy to do it. Sarah had sold the concept of collections of music, interviews, still pictures and everything you could think of all in a box. A CD can be produced for so little the publishers don't want to tell you. Some people thought they were paying for 10 CDs and getting a lot of junk added. The more thoughtful saw they were paying for 5 CDs and getting a lot of extra stuff for nearly nothing. Syd gave them a whole double sided CD of stuff. Interviews with General David Cale, mountains being blown up, tank retrievers hauling main battle tanks back under artillery fire. Gigantic machines quarrying rock. Marines doing all sort of marine things. SEALS blowing things up. Terrorists getting blown away from 2,000 yards. A recently declassified film of Syd stealing a destroyer escort and using it to run over a submarine. Some nifty 'how it was done' stuff about Syd's stunts. Syd had done a gag where she jumps out of a second story window onto the roof of a bus by jumping out of a second story window onto the roof of a bus. The scene out of Devil's daughter 2 where she supposedly stabs a shark to death was exposed. What actually happened was, she stabbed a shark to death.
There was an interview with World Champion Cowboy Nathaniel Blake done less than a year before he died. Nat said, “You have to love all the critters God made, excepting maybe the skunk. You rope a calf, well, all right, but don't cuss him. Horses, well, they do what you want them to. They're loyal. They might be better off on their own, but they would die from something a cowboy would have cured. Dogs, the same, and cats, they don't love you if you ain't worth it, but that only makes them better. I don't even hate Rastafarian, who killed a good friend of mine. Rastafarian was defending himself as he saw it.”
With the interview came a bunch of great video of Nathaniel Blake riding bulls and wild horses. All licensed to go on the collection.
Keith sent her a thank you note.
They went on with playing at Al's, and got ready for Thanksgiving. There were some turkey cookers available, but they had to admit they were not cooking any turkeys. Boo was going to bring massive amounts of crabs and they were going to eat Louisiana style. Keith wrote a few more tunes. He sent them to Sarah. Thanksgiving came, and so did Roger. It was a big event. Lots of dough got mixed on Marie's machine, and the club brought in 5 gallon cans of margarine. The barbecue was fired up, as were the turkey cookers. The shrimp went by the hundredweight. The crabs were eaten so fast that the little loader had to come over to get the scraps. Every dog in the neighborhood was needed to help eat the junk. Massive quantities of food were brought by neighborhood people. The priest, Father James from down the way, St. Jude's, told Keith that someone who did good works like him was a man of God even if he did not know it. He baptized Keith with Essie looking on.
Roger caught that on film, and went on to get the rest of the scene. Keith ate a couple of burritos, and had a few shots of Cuervo gold. The crowd was in Freddie's yard, which was all right, but also in the neighboring places, where they had not been invited. The neighbors didn't seem to mind, because they were at the party, too. The newspaper wrote it up as a gigantic success, with pix of kids eating shrimp and oysters. Roger's film captured the same thing. The noise and all disappeared, and what you saw was people eating things they usually did not get.
When Boo got up on Friday, Keith told him that.
“You're a hero, Boo.”
“Get a clue, Bro. I no hero.”
“You gave the people something to be thankful for. I'm proud to be your friend.”
“The lord give people something to be thankful for. I'm just a Coon doing a little of His work when I see it needs.”
“You brought things to people who had none.”
“Call them back. We got a lot of crabs to eat yet. And you thank God, not me, coon.”
“You never called me that before.”
“You just made the grade. Ain't everyone who becomes a coonass. Call them guys. We got lots of crabs to eat yet.”
Keith called Essie and Angelo. The phone tree had been shaken. Angelo started with sending a text to all the members. Essie didn't need to work, so she came back. Roger got the bikes coming in, but it was not as good as his earlier shot of them filling the highway. Most of the guys could have the day off, in fact most already did, but a few had to work. The grannies called a lot of local people, particularly the poor folks. Cedric got a box of eggs from a restaurant that was looking at them going out of date. 300 eggs. Patrick had a 25 pound bag of self rising flour and some pancake syrup from a restaurant that thought it sounded fine to feed people. The restaurant also contributed a 2 ½ gallon jug of cooking oil.
Keith made lots of pancakes and scrambled eggs. He also made some biscuits. Then they fired up the turkey cooker that had not been taken home yet, and boiled some crabs. It was kind of chilly, so the clubhouse was full of people. Roger went around taking pix, and the guests ate pancakes, eggs, and biscuits. Since crabs are kind of messy, the crabs mostly got eaten on the deck. The little loader took the junk, and Keith went over to his garden and dumped it when it got full, and pushed dirt over the crab junk.
Cedric started a weeding party. Everyone got out and took what hoes were available, and destroyed every weed on the clubhouse grounds. They raked and trimmed trees. They threw all the junk in the barbecue, and burned it up. They dug up stumps, and the one they could not dig out, Cedric would get the backhoe and do it in. Another that seemed pretty tough got a trench dug around it. An oil drum missing both ends was set over it, and a fire of coals from the barbecue and junk wood from everywhere was built. All the cleaning products in the house got used up. Tony came over and disked the part of the front yard that would not be driven on, and seeded it with native larkspur. Everyone went in to scarf out. Tony would send Boo an email with a pic of a baby larkspur, which would be showing around Christmas, most likely. The crew could pull everything else.
They went in. Tony said, “You left me a message about pepper seed. They don't cross much, I suppose they self pollinate a lot. I have serranos for your hot ones, and some good sweet peppers. Jalapenos too. If you want Bells, you will have to buy a pack of seed. I don't bother with them because they are low producers and not worth much. I will have corn and straight neck yellow squash. I will get some cantaloupes if you want.”
“We do.”
“You might want a pack of Crimson Sweet watermelons. I could get you some tomatoes, but they usually don't set in this climate. The club should grow some because everyone likes to try a few tomato plants in case they flower before it gets too hot for them to set. Any old tomato will do. Got an old milk jug handy?”
Keith found one, and Tony took a big knife out of the rack. “Hold it so your hand is not in the way. Put the knife up like this, and then cut.” Whop. The top was off the jug. “That is your picking bucket. Of course, rinsing them is good. But you can also use it for a pot. Take a soldering iron or a nail heated in the wood stove, and poke some holes in the bottom. Drilled holes sometimes crack. Melted holes don't.”
He put it in the sink and ran some water into it.
“Take some sand and dirt and leaf mold, sawdust, what all, and cook it so it has no weed seeds or bugs. Dirt from the gutter is pretty good most times. Start a tomato in February in your hothouse, and when it's about 4” tall, put it in one of these. If it doesn't grow like a weed, use some liquid fertilizer with micro nutrients. Tomatoes can be planted deeper than they were, the stem will send out roots. If they get leggy, too tall and floppy, plant them deeper.”
They went to the barbecue and ate some crabs. Tony ate the crab eggs when there were any.
“You going to my wedding?”
“And your funeral. If you go to mine.”
“I'm marrying Essie second Thursday in January to the third Thursday in January. Sunday is the date.”
“Where is this all going to happen?”
“Argentina. The ranch of Juan Irguilla Villanova-Cortez.”
“No way, guy.”
“We played a two week party for him a while back. You want an all expenses paid trip to Argentina for a week? Bring your wife?”
“Like to see that.”
“Got a cell phone?”
Tony handed it to him. Keith dialed the staff number.
“El Rancho.”
“Keith. I would like to add two guests.”
“Tony and Angelina Jacobson?”
“Yes.”
“Clear. May I speak to Tony?”
“Staff at the ranch for you, Tony.”
“Tony, you and Angelina are cleared to come to the ranch. If you want to bring someone else, we will need to check that person.”
“How do you know about me?”
“We check anyone in contact with Keith or Essie. Angelina was arrested for possession of marijuana April 19, 1985 and never charged. Don't bring any pot with you on our plane. It can be purchased locally, I understand.”
“How can you know that?”
“It remains confidential. What we can find out is a lot more than what we should be able to, but we can.”
“Where do you get this?”
“I am not going to say that over an open line. When you come for the wedding, our Chief of Security will be glad to show you how and what.”
“All right.”
“It's going to be fun. Later, alligator.”
“This is kind of strange, Keith.”
“People with money could be kidnapped or something. Juan isn't going to share your private information. Call Angelina and reserve the time. It will be lots of fun. You can eat real good steaks until you bust.”
They got some more crabs and ate them up.
“Is he going to get your band in the big time?”
“He's tried. We may just not be destined or whatever.”
“You guys are good.”
“Apparently that does not much matter.”
“This thing with crap being sold, and quality ignored, it is getting worse.”
“I think you're right, but we market in the real world. Sarah is putting together a new kind of music offer. Instead of just music, we will have pix, and interviews, and various stuff. Our next album will be a CD, but we will also have a set of all the stuff we have ever done. It will have some Syd Silver things on it. Some cool quarry things, and like that.”
“Do you think she really dove off the Gate Bridge?”
“She did.”
Keith got the film clip up, and they watched it. Syd diving off the tower, a perfect swan, and a perfect entry. Then she comes up by the salmon boat, and they take her aboard and haul on out of there.
“Too high.”
“She says she measured her terminal velocity jumping out of a plane without a parachute.”
“How could she do that?”
“She swans and her buddy tunnels, and catches up to her, hooks her up, and they ride down on a two man parachute.”
“That can be done?”
“My understanding, it is a well known stunt.”
“So she knows her terminal velocity.”
“And she would reach it from the deck. People who did not know how to dive have lived after jumping from the deck, therefore she could too. And from the tower would be the same difference.”
“You would have to be out of your mind.”
“She is supposedly manic depressive and borderline psychotic.”
“Well, that takes care of that.”
They went and got some more crabs. There was some garlic dip, so they were set up. Essie came over. “Who is borderline psychotic?”
“We weren't going to tell you.”
“Nothing to tell. I'm a full route psychotic. Like my ring, Tony?”
“Looks good in this light. I can't see it very well.”
“It's a violet sapphire.”
“I thought engagement rings were diamonds.”
“Diamonds are marketed by criminal conspiracies. They can only be told from synthetics because they are not as good. They have to be verified by instruments. What does that tell you? A gemologist can't tell you if a diamond is genuine without a machine. Obviously they are not prettier than the fakes.”
She took him over to the light. “See that glittering S shaped thing in it?”
“What is it?”
“If there was a lot of that stuff in it, it would be a star. But a little bit like this, it's not 'faceting grade'. The S is considered a defect.”
“It looks neat, though, the way it moves around.”
“It's the prettiest thing I have ever seen.”
“That's great, Essie.”
Angelo came over, and Tony went to the crabs. Angelo said, “We got some serious backing for Christmas. Mitch is getting toys, and the backers are buying out a bike shop. They were real big for 50 years or so, selling new and used bicycles and trikes for little kids. Wal Mart ran them under with made in China junk.”
“That's happened all over the US. Not going to be good when our own manufacturing tanks from slave labor competition. Are we going to just run up our credit cards buying throw away merchandise, and end up selling our birthrights for a mess of pottage?”
“Yeah, looks like. But in the meantime, we want the names of kids who don't have a bike because the family doesn't have the money. We need their inseams so we know if they can reach the pedals or not. We're going to get all the kids on bikes, and then the backers are going to try to come out even selling high end mountain bikes and racing 10 speeds and so on. Someone might open a bike shop.”
“Sammy, maybe.”
Sammy bought an old brick building on the square that had an apartment on the second floor, and a store on the first. The backers made him a great deal on a lot of parts and stuff, and a few tools. They consigned their high end stuff to him to sell for them. People who had been to the Thanksgiving dinner, and some of the club and various people went to the store and cleaned it up. Sammy got out from under his rent. He fixed a few bikes, sold some new ones, and sold some salvaged parts. The store was on a street corner with a vacant lot next door, so nobody minded a little music being played. When they found out the vacant lot next door had gone for taxes, Boo bought it as an investment. When the club found out he had gotten it for $900, Thomas looked into tax sales. The town was waiting for bidders on some other long disused stores, and the club bought up several of them. The town would not allow a store to have water without paying for sewer and garbage. The used motorcycle shop, which was only open on whim, used Sammy's bathroom, and was lit with Coleman lanterns on those rare occasions when it was open at night. It had some raised display areas behind the plate glass windows. Those were rotted, and went into the store's wood stove. That made space for two motorcycles to be displayed in the front windows, along with an enormous Rottweiler who guarded the store when no humans were there.
The restaurant opened after 20 years of closure. It got cleaned, but the ladies running it were not investors. One side of one of the deep fryers worked. The griddle did, and also the walk ins. You could get a hamburger, a cheeseburger, or an order of fries. There were bottled sodas. There was a cooker that was full of crab boil when it was not empty, and you could get boiled shrimp, crabs, or crawfishes. At breakfast, it was $6, and you ate what they made. Generally, Biscuits and gravy, pancakes, sausage, toast, scrambled eggs, and coffee. There were three classes of customers. They liked you, they tolerated you, or they didn't like you. Business hours were plainly displayed on the door. “Open when we feel like it.”
One day, a Roving Troublemaker found a lost kitten by the side of a farm to market road. He took it to the vet, who gave him his shots, and pointed out that this was a specimen of wildcat, not house cat. The biker, not all that domesticated himself, took the kitten to the restaurant where it was love at first sight. The kitten, who was named Chef, was given warm milk, and graduated to shrimp and the licking of plates. When Chef got a little older, rodents at the restaurant became a story told of the distant past. Chef had to wear a collar to make sure nobody took him for a varmint. He learned to hiss at the didn't like yous.
One of the health inspectors told one of the ladies that they were not really supposed to have an animal in a restaurant. She took him aside. “We used to have rats. Big nasty rats. Traps and poison didn't stop them, but Chef did.”
They heard no more on that issue. Chef ate flies, moths, cockroaches, and every other nasty filthy thing that came into his territory, which extended from the front door to the alley behind where he answered the call of nature. One of the plate glass windows had a little display area where perhaps specials had been once been listed. Chef's bed was put there. He took to spotting like yous and putting a paw up to the window when they came by.
* * *
Christmas Eve finally came. The restaurant served breakfast for the people who had to work. At noon, the party at the clubhouse began. Boo was there, planning on sleeping early and going home for Christmas Day. It was unseasonably warm at 63ºF by 0900. All that 'White Christmas' stuff aside, a warm day when the kids can go out and play and make noise that will not be heard by Mom and Dad is the perfect Christmas. Len, in the absence of objection, blocked off the street. He left a couple of sawhorses out for a while, when the kids came out to stand on the drive and watch the bikes ride around the clubhouse a few times. Most of the guys had Santa hats, and a few of the ladies had some pretty immodest Mrs. Santa outfits. They all rode around the back of Keith's house, and changed out of the Santa stuff, and came back around and parked in front of the clubhouse.
There was no money spent on wrapping paper. The kids went through the clubhouse, youngest first, and picked out one toy each. They went around three more times, and pretty well cleaned up the toys. Mitch came around with some gigantic stuffed animals, and asked the kids questions like “What is the first derivative of x squared?”
One of the girls said '2x' and Mitch gave her an enormous teddy bear. He went around asking things like “What is the altitude of a geosynchronous orbit?” That won a Yoda. “What is the Genus and species of this?” That won a stuffed elephant. “What do these eat?” There went the Panda. “What is the unclassified fuel endurance of the SR-71?”
There went the three foot model of the SR-71. “Who is the best actress in the world?” He passed out posters of Syd Silver. “Who has a driver's license and a motorcycle endorsement?”
Three kids held up their hands.
“A bike won't start, but it does crank. What will you check first? Is it getting fuel, does it have spark, is the battery dead? Pick one, two or three.”
One kid held up one finger, and the other two held up two.
“Nine out of ten bikes that won't start are out of gas. You just won a motorcycle.”
A grungy guy rode up on an old chopper, signed a pink slip, and handed the kid the keys.
“Ride safe.”
The kid took the bike past the roadblocks and someone loaned him a helmet. He took off with some of the Roving Troublemakers for a spin on the highway.
Len pulled two of the sawhorses out of the way, and an 18 wheeler backed in. The back door was rolled up, and Santa himself got out. Santa was a retired fullback from the Miami Dolphins. He weighed 425 pounds. He was a long haul trucker supplying heavy equipment and offshore supply vessels with lubricants, and hauling the occasional parts. He was 50, and so wussed that he could barely bench press 500 pounds. When he wasn't Santa, he was Chuckie Waller.
“Santa has heard that some of you kids don't have bikes. Santa is not happy to hear that. Mrs. Santa is going to read some names, and I would like you, when your name is called, to have your mom or your dad come and help Santa lift down your bikes.”
Mrs. Santa, Anita Waller, had been a lifelong Dolphins fan, and also a fan of big men. Anita, who claimed to be 5' tall when she was exaggerating, liked big men. She had launched a 3 year campaign to get a date with Chuckie, and finally succeeded. She was a weight lifter, and a bicycle racer.
“Stevie Richards?”
A little kid came to the tailgate, and Santa handed down a tricycle. It continued until all the poor kids had bikes. The driver took the truck around, and Chuckie and Anita changed into regular clothes, and rode in on their bike.
The kid who had won the motorcycle told Chuckie that “Angelo just inducted me into the Roving Troublemakers!”
“That's great. Now you have to live up to the Troublemakers standard of good deeds and right action.”
“I can, Chuckie!”
“Yes, you can.”
* * *
The kids rode around on their new bikes. Keith and Essie watched them from the porch.
“We should all get to be kids.”
“All I wanted was to grow up.”
“Me, too. Do you think, all this stuff about childhood and how great it was is bullshit?”
“I do, Essie, but I don't know if it's an illusion we should lose.”
“You got baptized.”
“I didn't have to say I had faith.”
“The implication is, you do.”
“Father James doesn't think that, does he?”
“No.”
“Maybe there is something we really need to have in myth. There are a lot of Catholics who don't observe the prohibition on birth control, or whatever.”
“You should ask Father James.”
They went to the house, and he did calling on the phone.
“Father James.”
“Keith and Essie. Do you have a few minutes.”
“Oh, yes. We're busy, but not that busy.”
“Does it matter if I have no faith?”
“It does, but that is not the end of the story. Would you like to come down, and go to mass in an hour and a half?”
Essie said, “I think we should.”
Keith said, “Would you like some shrimp or crabs?”
“I have not had those in a very long time, Keith, and I would like some.”
Keith got some shrimp and crabs. He took the backs off the male crabs. He got some butter and garlic sauce, and told Boo he was going to see the priest.
They took the pickup to St. Jude's, and met Father James. He took them to a little courtyard where the wind did not reach. It was nice there. Father James poured them some brandy. He ate the shrimp and crabs with enthusiasm. “We don't get these often in Texas.”
“I have them all the time, Father, so you should have them, too.”
“I would like to, but they are expensive.”
“Boo will probably let you have some pretty good deals.” He put Boo's businesses card on the table.
“Let's talk about this crisis of faith.”
“I don't know if that is how to term it, Father James. I have never had much.”
“You believe in the golden rule. You hope for good to triumph over evil. You think you lack faith because you cannot reconcile the nature of God with that we speak of in the church.”
“I can't imagine the creator of the universe being an old man with a beard.”
“You are not the only one. There is room in the church for people who think a little differently. Heresy is a kind of lost idea. We speak all that dogma, but it doesn't much matter. Do you treat others as you wish them to treat you?”
“Yes. At least, I try.”
“How far is it to Rigel?”
“About 500 light years.”
“A bare bodkin.”
“Hamlet.”
“Thrust to weight ratio of an F-15”
“Something like 2.2.”
“Define an asymptote.”
“An infinite limit. The line a function tends to but will never reach.”
“A Jesuit.”
“I think you know that better than I.”
“Indeed I do. You are an educated man, Keith, and would have been a credit to us. Out there on the pulpit, God is what the bible says. Back here, God is undefinable, unimaginable, unknowable. But we have faith that he exists. Maybe you only have faith that good and evil are different things and good is the one we want. That is faith. You believe, and I want you take communion today.”
They went into the church, and Father James greeted everyone. He did a nice sermon on how Jesus had come to save us all, and had done it. Keith and Essie went home.
The folks had gotten into the dinner thing. Keith went to his house and pounded down some risen bread dough, and put loaves in the oven. Sammy would make them into garlic bread. Most of the parents of little kids had taken them home. Boo took them aside and asked if they wanted crawfishes. They did. They went over to Keith's to cook them.
“I sort of got the short end of the stick on crawfishes. They had a lot of demand, and they kind of didn't do right for me, but I will forgive them.”
They cooked the crawfishes in Keith's boiler. They sat by the barbecue eating them. “Father James likes shrimp and crabs and all.”
“St. Jude's. I will put him on my list. I might lose his bills.”
They started eating crawfishes.
Essie said, “We should have done something about the poor kids. Santa should see them tomorrow.”
Keith said, “Angelo is way ahead of you. Santa and his Harley Davidson reindeer are going to their houses tomorrow morning. Santa will have hot chocolate, the reindeer will have cookies. Mom and Dad will be ever so surprised if he keeps on schedule. I made the dough, and I think our grannies can make the cookies.”
“How much dough did you make”
“Three hundred pounds of flour.”
“With sugar, 500 pounds?”
“Maybe 700.”
“The chocolate?”
“Mexican. It has cinnamon in it. The boxes are about 2' cubes. They have a bunch of them.”
They went to bed.
In the morning, Keith went to the Williams' The lights were on, so he tapped on the door. Marie let him in. Len was in the breakfast room.
“I have something for you. Not from me, but I was asked to bring them.”
Len opened the box, and took out two guns.
Len said, “Silver seven model two autograph. The state of the art in handguns. We'll be glad to have them. I guess that means you are hanging with little Syd. Be careful. She is truly out of her mind.”
“I have never met her. She bought some tunes for a movie, and sent us some stuff for our box set. Some Nathaniel Blake stuff, and some stunts.”
“What do you have of Nat?”
“An interview and some rodeo footage.”
“I want to see that.”
“When the box set comes or sooner?”
“When the box set comes is good.”
“It also has Syd diving.”
“That will be good for business.”
“She really did it, Len.”
“She did. I know that.”
“She says her terminal velocity in a swan is no higher than from the deck.”
“She may be right. She is for sure psychotic.”
“If someone came to attack me, I would like it if she was visiting.”
“So would I. Would you want her on your SWAT team, wit