Barbara Silkstone - Wendy Darlin 01 - Wendy and the Lost Boys (13 page)

“Here, take this.” Roger passed his headscarf to Hook who tied it around his waist. It didn’t hide his problem if anything it made it worse. But with the crowd pressing in on Hook, his UpUGo lost its high profile.

An elderly lady who looked like she stepped off a label of embroidery thread approached us. She nodded at Joseph smiling an angelic smile. She had porcelain skin, white hair and eyes the color of ice. Slender and graceful, she reminded me of a swan. I guessed her to be in her early 70s. “I’m Sister Mary, Joseph’s wife. Welcome.” She hugged Jaxbee and then me. The scent of lye soap lingered on my cheek.

My wind-burned lips cracked as I gave her my sweetest smile.

“I’m so glad you’re all here. We were worried about Charlie. It’s good to see he has friends and he’s come back to his family.”

Joseph was beaming at her. “Picked up a box of .22s while I was in town.”

Mary smiled. “That’s nice, Joseph. Don’t stay too long at the party. Tomorrow being Sunday, we have church in the morning. I’m sure you’ll all want to be there.”

Music broke out. I turned to check out the band. Two fiddlers, a banjo and a harmonica broke into a double-time version of
The Devil Went Down to Georgia.

I should have been exhausted but my curiosity was pumping adrenalin to the point where my eyeballs were popping. My watch told me it was two in the morning. Way past my bedtime.

Roger reminded me of a hunting dog with the way his brow was bent in concentration. He was studying everyone as if there’d be a test.

The women brought in platters of food. Collard greens, corn, potatoes, and goat meat steaks. I ate the veggies, but skipped the meat.

“Not quite
Smith & Wollensky’s,
” Roger said.

“You know that restaurant?”

“It’s my favorite eatery in Manhattan.”

“The porterhouse?”

“Their best steak is the porterhouse for two. I owe you dinner and an apology,” he said. “That was a dirty trick sticking you with Hook. I just wanted to see you sock him in the nose. The expression on your face was priceless.”

Someone yelled from the back of the room. “He’s here! Granddaddy Earl has arrived.” The crowd parted as a wave of energy came flying into the room like a bat on fire.

“Where is that grandson of mine?” Granddaddy Earl was a head shorter than me and might break one hundred pounds after a big meal. His eyeballs moved independent of each other but carried identical bags. A perfectly matched set of horse-size dentures dominated his face, while the world’s worst toupee sat catawampus on his head. He held the hair in place with both hands as he ran across the meeting hall. He was wearing shriveled jeans and a plaid pajama top.

“So you finally returned!” He cackled as he stomped up to Hook and punched him in the stomach. It was more than a love tap. The men all laughed as if it was the funniest thing they’d ever seen. They were falling on each other and howling with delight. The UpUGo stayed up.

“Weird sense of humor,” I said to Roger.

“So you’re here to buy back your Hook-Family land from that there Cherokee? I’ll believe it when I see it. I remember when you were screwing widows out of their last dollars, and that was when you were in grade school.”

Granddaddy Earl scanned the room like he was taking a headcount, then he turned to Hook. “Come here, sonny. Give your granddaddy a hug.” He grabbed Hook in a scrawny grip bumping his erection. “What the hell is this? I mean I know what it is… but why?”

“A minor problem,” Hook said as he broke free from the embrace.

Granddaddy Earl stepped back with a look of puzzled admiration. “I wouldn’t call that thing minor. I’d be right proud of it, but there’s a time and a place for everything. Now put it down.”

Distracted, Granddaddy Earl did a double take at Jaxbee. He shimmied up to her and squeezed her butt. She pushed him away. “You old pervert.”

He turned to me and made a reach for my tush. Roger grabbed his arm. “Back off.” I could hear brittle bones creak.

Granddaddy Earl adjusted his toupee as he frowned at Roger, then standing a fraction of an inch taller, he turned to the group.

“If this is a Prodigal Party, and we got us a Prodigal Son, let’s party.”

 “The church ladies are excused,” Joseph said. Sister Mary and the women in blue disappeared out a side door.

I leaned over to Jaxbee. “Why are the women leaving?”

She shrugged. “Maybe it’s one of those weird sect things?”

“Sect with a “ct” and not sex?”

We both giggled.

There was a loud roar of male laughter. We turned to see Granddaddy Earl leaping in the air trying to retrieve his hairpiece. Someone had put it on the doorframe above the door, ten feet off the ground.

Joseph stood between Roger, Jaxbee, and me explaining the scene, “That toupee is the life of all our parties. We built some great traditions around that piece of dead muskrat.”

“That toupee is an animal?” I asked.

He nodded. “
Was
and a fine one at that.”

Wrinkling her nose, Jaxbee put her hand up to block the view of her face. She crossed her eyes and rolled them.

“Granddaddy Earl has his vanities. He hates being bald. Tried all sorts of cures, even smeared his head with chicken fat. That was useless, but for a time he sure smelled good. Once he tried massaging his scalp day and night, he almost bled out.”

I elbowed Roger as I swallowed a laugh.

“Eventually he went to Lou’s Taxidermy – nice fella, that Lou. He made that hairpiece for Granddaddy Earl out of a handsome muskrat. If you notice, Granddaddy Earl’s a short fella; he takes after the Bonesapart side of the family. Even as young’uns the Hook boys could eat apples off the top of his head. We never could let a good practical joke go unattended, and it was so easy to grab the hair off his noggin and run off with it.”

Granddaddy Earl was teetering on a chair as he grabbed his toupee from atop the doorframe.

Joseph continued, “The more Granddaddy Earl would show-off that hairpiece, the more we’d tease him. First Christmas he had it one of the cousins snuck into his bedroom the night before and stole the toupee. Next morning forty-two cousins gathered to open presents. The old man wouldn’t come out of his room without his muskrat-rug. We drug him out into the parlor with a hat on his head.

“After he settled down on the sofa, he saw the toupee on top of the Christmas tree. He went plum crazy trying to get it down. It was a twelve-foot tree. Seeing him get all worked-up over that piece of tailored muskrat, we just rose to the occasion. That’s how our tradition started. The cousins always steal his toupee before Christmas and use it as a tree-topper.

“At special gatherings someone grabs that hairpiece and puts it out of Granddaddy Earl’s reach. The old man goes crazy. We told him when he passes we are going keep his toupee so it can sit on top of the Christmas tree every year.”

“Cruel but funny,” I said.

“Granddaddy Earl made Sam-the-Undertaker promise to super-glue his toupee to his head before he buries him. Ain’t going to happen. Sam’s agreed to give the cousins the toupee. The old man is going to go nuts in hell.”

Roger started to laugh. That was all I needed. I let fly and Jaxbee joined me in a total giggle-fit.

“The old goat deserves it. My brother Charlie hates him for what he done to him when he was a little boy. Don’t tell Charlie Hook I shared this, but when he was little our parents would leave him for the entire day with Granddaddy. Earl had no patience with kids. He’d tie Charlie to a tree in the morning. Put his food and his toys next to the tree. By the time the sun was high, all the food was gone and the toys were just out of his reach. Made my brother crazy like a sprayed roach.”

We spent an hour watching Granddaddy Earl chase his hair. Most of the men were drinking bourbon. Hook never touched a drop. I imagined his taste buds had outgrown Jim Beam.

“Come sit with me,” he said.

I stood over him casting my most disdainful look.

“So don’t sit. You are so hard-hearted. Someday I’ll own you.”

Skipping over his threat, I said, “I’d love to know your secret. How did you catapult from this…” I pointed to the partiers, “to one of the largest financial scandals in history? Ambition is not enough.”

“It’s no secret. I sold my land here in Georgia for the first tranche of money then borrowed against fake financial statements,” he smirked.

“And you’re proud of this?”

“I was on my way to the big time.”

I shook my head and turned to walk away.

“There’s a part of me that wants this to be over,” he said.

“Bully for you.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

It was after three in morning when we finally left. Joseph yawned and we all caught it. “Let’s scoot to the farm and get you settled in. We have an extra trailer out back. Doctor Roger can sleep there. You girls are welcome to the guest bedroom. Charlie you got the living room sofa.”

The farm was two winding roads off the highway. The land lay low and smelled like what you might expect from a goat farm. The main house had been a doublewide trailer at one time. It settled so far into the dirt it looked as if it had grown from the soil.

Jaxbee and I entered through the back door, wiping our feet on the sponge mat reading
Welcome.
The kitchen was cramped but had a homey aroma. The sink and stove were spotless. The refrigerator hummed and whistled, giving away its age.

Mary came out of the bedroom and greeted us. She was wearing a floor-length, white cotton nightgown with a high neck and long sleeves. Her hair was in one braid down her back. “Follow me girls. I’ll show you where you’re sleeping,” she said. “Joseph will get the men settled in.”

We stepped down a short hallway lined with photos of what could only be Hook family members – hollow eyes of old warriors and Civil War vets hung next to serious-faced couples in wedding day portraits. Passing a bathroom door, we entered a tiny bedroom just large enough to walk around one side of the double mattress.

 “I’m going to sleep now,” Mary said. “If you need anything, you can find it on your own. It’s almost time for me to get up.”

“Can I grab the shower first?” I asked Jax.

“Go for it. I lasted this long; I can wait until morning.”

I couldn’t shake the feeling that Jaxbee had a secret or two. She was way too upset with Hook’s change in plans. I took a three-minute shower, just enough time to let Jax get into her mischief. I dried off and threw on a pink chenille robe that hung from a peg on the door. Slipping into the hallway I peeked into the bedroom. “Jax?” No answer.

The back door was ajar. I stepped out into the moonlight and crouched down on the porch. Two tall skinny silhouettes, one with a huge erection stood near the barn. Slipping out the screen door and avoiding a pair of abandoned boots on the step, I inched my way past the baby goat pen.

Indians

Chapter Thirty

Jaxbee’s golden curls shined in the reflected light from the house. She was listening to the shadowy conversation at the corner of the building. I stopped in my tracks and tried to hear what was being said without her sensing my presence.

Joseph’s voice. “Brother, it makes my heart sing to know you’re doing the right thing. You buy back that land. Make peace with your ancestors. And live among your own family again.”

Hook looked out over the pasture, the moonlight reflecting off the bulge in his pants.

“Brother, I wish you’d do something about that thing. You’re making the goats nervous,” Joseph said.

At that moment one of the herd ambled over to the Ponzi king and bit down on his UpUGo.

Hook’s wail echoed off the pasture, bounced against the barn, and landed smack in my ears. He kicked at the goat but missed. The animal moved on to better fodder.

“I warned you,” Joseph said. “Need some antiseptic for that?”

Hook held himself with both hands and shook his head. When he finally spoke his voice was weak, “This is how it’s got to work… my van is full of art and antiquities, not currency. I can’t put it in a bank and buy back the land. I have to take it somewhere to change it into a bank account. Then I can draw the money out.”

“Charles, are you sure you know what you’re doin’? You sold that land to a Cherokee. What makes you think he’ll sell it back to you? The Indians got their laws about not selling, same as us. You know that land belonged to them before the Hooks acquired it.”

“Michael Wolf agreed to sell it back to me. We shook on it.”

“Brother, what you did was wrong. You brought shame on our family. I don’t care how much of a fortune you spun off the money you got from selling your land, you gotta remember how our law reads.”

Joseph’s voice dropped low and threatening. “You put me in a bad position, Brother. Any member of the Family is honor-bound to kill you for what you did, in any manner most convenient, and not be held accountable. So don’t go gettin’ clever with that money. You need to buy back the land, find yourself a little house nearby and settle down. The forgivin’ is hangin’ on my promise yer gonna do it. You’d best obey.”