CHAPTER NINETY
News spread fast about Alan’s suicide. Over at the Bozeman Café Buddy was at his usual stool at the counter trying to get a rise out of Cindy.
“You know, when they found Alan swinging in his tool shed, he was nude, nary a stitch on. Except for one sock, a white one.” Buddy said looking for a response from her.
Cindy stopped wiping the counter top, “Who said he was wearin’ a sock? I never heard nobody say that.”
“You know, the sock wasn’t on his foot, it was higher up they said.” Buddy now snickered at his off color humor.
“Buddy, you should be ashamed. The poor man’s dead for Christ sake. Have some respect.” She scolded him.
“Now, now, I have a lot of respect for him. They said the sock was covering his you-know-what, and that it was a very, very long sock, if you know-what-I-mean?” He grinned from ear-to-ear.
“Buddy Wilson, I mean it,” she said pointing her finger in his face, “one more nasty remark like that and I’ll put your ass out on the curb. You hear me?” Cindy didn’t take kind to anyone speaking ill of the dead.
“Sorry, I was just playin’ around. I’ll behave if I can have a slice of that cherry pie over there on the counter.”
Cindy didn’t respond to his fake apology, but she did serve him a nice big piece of pie. She figured if he had something to put in his mouth, he’d be quiet for a spell.
Mable and Nigel were over at their usual spot, and couldn’t help overhearing Buddy and Cindy discussing Alan’s death.
“You know, Alan once made me pay a fine for an overdue book, can you believe that nonsense.” Mable said.
“I seem to recall you saying something about that sugarplum. Didn’t that happen over a year ago?” Nigel remembered exactly when it happened, as Mad-Dog- Mable blew it up into a federal case as he recalled. She called Alan’s boss and complained excessively until the five cent charge was cancelled.
“Who cares when it happened, I’m just saying that was the kind of man he was. Trying to lord his manly power over a helpless woman who simply forgot to bring back one little book on time.” She bitched.
“Well sugarplum, that’s all water-under-the-bridge now that he’s passed on to greater glory.”
“Greater glory? He’s going to burn in hell with all the other sinners!” She thundered.
Nigel’s stomach was now starting to act up, “Yes dear, you’re probably right.”
“You’re damn tootin’ I’m right.” Mable glared at her husband.
Nigel decided to change the subject, “That poor Beatrice, losing her fiancé like that. Must truly be awful to find the love of your life hanging from a noose. How truly sad.”
“How truly sad? Are you kidding? It’s her fault he killed himself. She wasn’t woman enough to keep him satisfied in bed. That’s what’s sad.” She rattled off without any remorse in her voice.
“Please don’t talk like that. Beatrice is a very nice girl, and she loved Alan very much.” Nigel tried to play to her sympathy.
“If you’re finished, we need to get home. I’ve had enough of your goody-goody talk about that sinner and his pitiful fiancé.” She said getting up and heading for the door.
Nigel, even though he wasn’t completely done with his meal, knew better than to dilly-dally, or there would be hell to pay at home later. He ran after her like a little puppy.
Cindy had overheard everything Mable said about Alan and Beatrice, and it didn’t sit well with her, “One of these days, I’m gonna slap that woman’s teeth right outta her big mouth,” she said gritting her own teeth, “I don’t see how Nigel puts up with her bullshit.”
Buddy retorts, “They say, there’s a fine line between love and fear my dear lady, and Nigel may have found love early on in his marriage, but he most definitely has now entered the fear stage.”