2 Heroes & Hooligans in Goose Pimple Junction (13 page)

They drove to the diner in Johnny’s car. Walking in the front door, they saw two old men were at the counter as usual.

“So she says to me, she says, ‘The row’s crooked.’ And I says back, ‘You can plant more in a crooked row, woman. Don’t you know that?’“

“Women,” the other man said, shaking his head.

“Hidee, Clive. Earl.” Johnny raised his hand in a greeting to the two old men, permanent fixtures on the diner’s front stools.

“How do, Chief, Martha Maye.” Clive turned on his stool to speak to Johnny. “Say, Chief, did you catch that hardened criminal?”

Confusion showed on Johnny’s face.

“The one stealing all the punkins in town? It’s like the Grinch switched holidays.”

“We’re still on the hunt. You hear anything, you let me know, okay?”

“Sure thing, Chief. I’ll tell you what—whoever it is doesn’t have all the dots on his dice.”

“I’d say that’s an accurate assessment.” Johnny gently pushed on the small of Martha Maye’s back, urging her to lead them to a table.

“I seen it all,” Clive said, turning back around.

“Seen it all, done it all, can’t remember most of it,” Earl said.

As Johnny and Martha Maye made their way to a booth in the back, he said, “You think Earl’s interested in a woman? We could introduce him to your aunt.” Martha Maye poked him in the ribs, shaking her head and stifling a laugh.

Martha Maye felt like everyone’s eyes in the crowded diner were on them as they sat down.

“I don’t know if this was such a good idea, Johnny. I feel as conspicuous as the Emperor in his new clothes.”

“Mart, there isn’t anything wrong with two friends having dinner together.”

“You know that, and I know that, but does everybody else know that?” Her eyes self-consciously swept the room. Several people were sneaking glances at them.

“I don’t give two hoots and a holler what everybody else thinks. What you think is all’s important to me.” Johnny looked at her with an intensity that made her heart pound in her chest and her mouth go dry. Before she could respond, Junebug appeared at the table.

“Hirey’all tonight?”

“We’re hanging in there like loose teeth, Junebug, hireyew?” Johnny answered.

“I’m having a good hair day, and that’s about all I can ask for.” Junebug took the pencil out from behind her ear. “What can I gitchy’all?”

After they ordered, Junebug started to head for the kitchen when she suddenly reversed course and came back to the table. “Almost forgot to tell you the latest, Chief. We’re missing a peck of apples. Add it to the list, ‘kay?”

“Okay, Junebug.” Johnny sighed, taking out a notebook from his pocket and making a note in it. “Will do. Where’d they disappear from?”

“Out back. Deliveryman stacked up some boxes by the back door. By the time we hauled everything in, and I checked it all off, we was short. I called him right up, and he swore he delivered it. I believe him. We ain’t never had any problem with him before. He’s as honest as a summer day is long.” Junebug headed toward the kitchen, and Martha Maye looked at Johnny questioningly.

“Official police bidness,” he said, with another one of his big grins lighting up his face. “I’d rather talk about you. You said you don’t know who this clown could be who keeps sending you stuff, but do you have even the tiniest inkling? Somewhere to start?”

“No, Johnny, I don’t. I mean, the obvious suspect is Lenny.”

“Your husband.”

“For the moment.” Martha Maye gave him a weak smile. “I prefer to think of him as my future ex-husband.”

“So, Lenny’s the obvious suspect, but—there is a ‘but,’ isn’t there?”

“But it’s not his style. Lenny wants credit for everything he does if it’s good, which isn’t often, and that’s another reason why I don’t think it’s him. Number one, he’s never once in his life given me poems, lingerie, or perfume. And number two, he wouldn’t send a gift anonymously. If he sent me something, he’d want the whole town to know it. That would be the only reason he’d do it—for the brownie points.”

Junebug brought two glasses of sweet tea and a basket of corn muffins. “Rest’ll be out in a jiffy.”

Johnny took a drink. “Anybody at school you can think of?”

Martha Maye looked at the poodle skirt in the picture over Johnny’s shoulder. She thought for several moments, then shook her head. “Nobody I can think of.”

“It appears he’s getting more personal, and by coming into your house, more dangerous with each new gift. Promise me you’ll keep your doors and windows locked at all times.”

“Yes sir.”

“And you’ll drive to school instead of walking.” Johnny gave his stern police chief look.

“Yes sir.”

“And if you see anything or anyone even the tee-ninceyest bit suspicious, you’ll call me right away.”

“Yes sir.” Martha Maye couldn’t stifle a grin. “Even the tee-ninceyest bit.”

They looked at each other for a long moment, until Johnny said, “So …”

“So . . . ” echoed Martha Maye.

“Last time we talked, your husband was in town and wanted you back.”

“That’s what he said.”

“And how’s he doing with that proposition? If I may be so bold to ask.”

“Johnny, I’d rather jump barefoot off a six-foot stepladder into a five-gallon bucket full of porcupines than get back with him.”

“Good to know.” Johnny’s smile was wide, and his eyes were earnest, shining bright with possibility.

Always drink pure water. Many get drunk from breaking this rule.

~Southern Proverb

L
enny cruised by Martha Maye’s house, not seeing any sign of life on the street except for the nosy old biddy neighbor sitting in the La-Z-Boy in her front window. Luckily, he’d picked a car with tinted windows this time. “Look all you want, old woman. You’ll never know who’s in this here car,” Lenny said out loud.

He stopped at the four-way stop sign, turned right on Main, and drove toward the center of town, almost wrecking the car when he saw Martha Maye and the police chief come out of the diner.

That brazen hussy.

He whipped into a parking space across the street and watched in his rearview mirror as the chief helped Martha Maye into his car. When they drove away, Lenny put the gold Suburban into reverse, backed out, shifted into drive, and followed them.

Lenny watched Johnny pull into Lou’s driveway. He drove past the house, did a U-turn, and parked several houses down, watching as the two drove into the house. His mind reeled as he waited. Martha Maye was out of control. He had to do something.
She’s a married woman and going out on a date in broad daylight with another man. She’s colder than a mother-in-law’s tongue to me, and then she goes and flirts with the police chief in front of God and everybody.

Lenny stewed about his wife until he saw her, their daughter, and the police chief come out of the house and get into the car. He followed them to Martha Maye’s house and watched from the corner of the street perpendicular to Martha Maye’s as she and Butterbean got out of the car. He turned off the engine and rolled the windows down, watching as she walked around to the chief’s window instead of following their daughter inside the house.

She best not be kissing him good-bye in broad daylight. Act like you got some raising, woman.
He could see her laugh at something the idiot cop said, her body language in full flirt mode. She shuffled her feet in the grit of the driveway, her hips swaying, while she talked and smiled into the car at Johnny. It was enough of a spectacle to turn Lenny’s stomach.

Intently watching his estranged wife, a sudden “Boo!” from the passenger side startled him. He turned to see a woman’s smiling face in the open window. She reached in and unlocked the door.

“You—”

“Hidee, sugar,” she said. “Imagine finding you here.”

“Don’t I know you?” Lenny studied the woman’s face, sure he’d seen her somewhere before.

“You don’t mind if I join you, do you?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She slid in next to him.

“Uh, well, actually, I kinda got a headache.”

“In that case,” she paused, with a mischievous look in her eyes, “I could kiss it and make it all better.”

Lenny stared at her, dumbfounded. “Come again?”

“You know Martha Maye isn’t coming back to you. Maybe I can help some of the hurt go away.” Her fingers walked over the console and up his arm like a spider.

“Woman, you are batshit crazy.” Lenny looked out the window at Martha Maye, who was still flirting with Johnny. “What are you doing here?”

“Whatta you mean what am I doing here? I live here. Don’t you remember me? Allow me to introduce myself.” She scooted closer to him.

“Is this some kind of a trick? Are you some kind of a Trojan Horse or something?”

“Oh, come on, Lenny. We’re both consenting adults—”

“I am most certainly not consenting to anything with you, lady.”

“Look at Martha Maye over there flirting with the chief of police, big as all daylights.” She turned and craned her neck to see around the car’s window frame, continuing to talk while she watched Martha Maye. “That should prove to you your wife is through with you. And why would you want her back, the way she treats you? Let me make up for that tonight.”

Again he stared hard at her. “Huh?”

“I like you, Lenny. You’re not afraid to go after what you want. I find that extremely sexy.” She leaned over, letting Lenny get a good look down her shirt. “Are you actually going to say no to somebody like me?” she whispered.

“
Somebody
like you, I might not say no to.
You
you, yes, I most certainly am,” Lenny said. He moved back as far against his car door as possible, feeling like a cornered animal. “I know what you’re up to. You get me into a compromising position, and then you go running to Martha Maye saying I was unfaithful on her. Well, slam, bam, no thank you, ma’am.”

She looked hurt. “I would do no such thing. Martha Maye is my friend, and I wouldn’t want to hurt her. Besides, she’s already made her mind up about you.” She ran her hand through his hair and continued, “Come on, handsome. You and me. Let’s have ourselves a between-the-sheets rodeo.”

Lenny was pleased to finally see Johnny’s reverse lights. He took the woman’s hand in between his index finger and his thumb, holding it like it was germ infested. He removed it from his hair, dropping it in her lap.

“Lookit, this was a real nice offer, but my heart literally belongs to Martha Maye, and you will not tempt or trick me away from getting her back. Now, if you will kindly vacate my vehicle, I’ll be on my way.”

She let out a disgusted sigh. “Suit yourself, darlin’. You change your mind, you know where I live. But don’t put all your eggs in her basket. She ain’t coming back.”

Lenny rolled up his windows and drove past Martha Maye’s house, where he caught a glimpse of her through a window. He slowed, contemplating going inside, but instead sped off in the direction of the Magnolia Bar. He really needed a beer.