The Quintessence of Quick (The Jack Mason Saga) (5 page)

“Respected, yes. But loved? I doubt anyone could’ve convinced him of that. Pap was a lot of things, but a ‘man of the people’ wasn’t one of them. Buster, on the other hand, plays that role to the hilt. He’s even got the race announcers calling him ‘the man from Bisque.’ He’s given this weird little burg’s weird little name more exposure than it’s had since they hacked it out of the woods. I swear, if he could play guitar they’d elect him to congress.”

“Sounds like he could be going places, at least for ‘a man from Bisque.’ Does Cordelia go to the races with him?”

“Now and then, to the big ones; Daytona, of course, and
Darlington, where the parties run a strong second to the race itself. Otherwise, she’s content to let Buster hit the road with his crew, which is much the better thing from a racing point of view. You’ll understand when you meet her. She may be on the shady side of forty, but she still looks good enough to be a major distraction in the pits.”

Linda chuckled, the way she sometimes did in bed. “She sounds like quite a lady.”

“I expect that even she’d say that’s a stretch,” Jack said with the faintest of smiles. “Still and all, she’s my mom’s best friend. Here in Bisque, anyway.”

“Why don’t we have her out for drinks one day? I’m sure that she’s as curious about the ‘older woman’ that you brought home as you’ve made me about her.”

“Good idea, but they’ll want to have us over to the home place, you being the visitor and all. Hell, she may want to give you a party. You’re at least as much of an attraction as a visiting preacher or a college football recruiter. Let’s just run by there after we stop off at the Terrells; if her car’s in the driveway, we could just duck in for a minute and say ‘hey’.”

“Why not?” she said. “Guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

Turning off the highway just before it became one of Bisque’s principal streets, Jack headed east toward the Terrell’s house, which was in one of the not-so-new-anymore neighborhoods that had sprung up in the “stylish” south side of town on the heels of World War II. Mature trees, still wintry skeletons, would be shading its streets by Easter, and soon its driveways would host tricycles and plastic detritus belonging to the children of second and third-hand homeowners. The Terrells, who had built their home and raised Rick in it, were part of a small but sturdy minority who saw no need to “trade up.”

“This won’t take long,” Jack said. “Miz Terrell wouldn’t hear of us not dropping by, even though Rick won’t be here ’til next week.”

“Well, don’t feel like you have to rush on my account,” said Linda. “Since her boy’s not here, she’s gonna want to mother you a little, particularly since yours isn’t around.”

“Bingo. Been doing it for years.”

A smiling Melinda Terrell, middle age settled comfortably on her shoulders, opened the door before Jack could knock, and enveloped him immediately in a hug. “Jack!”

“Hey, Miz Terrell, how you doin’?”

“Much better, now that I’m seeing you again, boy.” she said, smiling at Linda over Jack’s shoulder. Dropping half the hug, she offered her hand to Linda without releasing him. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Melinda Terrell.”

“Linda Green,” Linda said, returning the smile as she took her hand.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Linda. We almost ended up with the same name! Please, come in.”

Ushering them into the den in which Jack felt he’d spent half his life, Melinda said, “Richard won’t be here ’til about one. I know he’d love to see you, but he’s out working an open debit, so I can’t even guarantee he’ll be back by one. And if I know him, he’ll be grabbing a sandwich at Tubby’s. Are y’all going some place for lunch? I could fix you a BLT in two shakes.”

Sensing an underlying nervousness that was not at all typical of his friend’s mother, Jack said, “Oh, no, thanks; we had a late breakfast, and a pretty heavy one at that. But that coffee sure smells good, as usual.”

Having brought a tray of coffee and cookies, Melinda sat on the edge of her husband’s Barcalounger. “I hope you’re going to enjoy your stay in our little town, Linda,” she said. “Don’t suppose you have a chance to see much of it, as yet.”

“Actually, she saw all of it about an hour ago,” said Jack, grinning. “From five thousand feet.”

“Jack! You devil! This girl’s just barely unpacked, and you shove her in to Gene Debs’s old airplane? Shame on you!”

Jack laughed. “Don’t get mad at me; she made me do it.”

“I’m a pilot, myself, Mrs. Terrell,” said Linda. When Jack told me that one of his uncles was a crop duster, I gave him no peace whatever until he promised that we’d go flying as soon as we got here.”

“My goodness! Well, in that case it’s easy to see how the two of you got together. Jack came by the flying bug naturally, what with Gene Debs and all. And poor Moses Kubielski. I’m sure Jack’s told you about him.”

“Yes, he has. He must’ve been a wonderful man.”

“And like a father to Jack, and Ricky too, for that matter,” said Melinda. “Such a tragic way to go, and him so young. Oh, I’m sorry to bring all of it up, Jack; it’s just that I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to y’all.” She paused, looking at Jack with a face gone somber. “I guess I should wait and let him tell you, Jack, but I just can’t. Ricky got a notice from the draft board to report for his physical exam.”

Jack took a minute before breaking the room’s dead quiet. “Is that right? From the Bisque draft board? I would’ve thought that he’dve changed his legal residence to
Baltimore.”

“He mentioned it a time or two, but I don’t suppose he did anything about it. You know how he puts things off.”

“Well, it sure is bad timing. He had a great rookie season, and I’m sure the Colts’d be giving him more playing time this year. Even Ray Berry has to catch his breath now and then.”

“Well, I was hoping he’d get it out of his system after a couple of years anyway, and get a regular job,” said Melinda. He didn’t get a degree from Georgia Tech for nothing, you know. And I worry day and night about him getting hurt. Maybe this is the Lord’s way of telling him it’s time to let football go.”

Jack’s eyes transited the room’s ceiling tiles before they returned to her face. “That’s certainly a possibility. There’s also the possibility that he could fail the physical. Or he might get into the National Guard or Reserves. Has he given you any idea of what he’s thinking at this point?”

Melinda’s hands were knotted in her lap. “Not a bit. We’ve only talked to him once since he got the notice; he said he’d be checking with some people in
Baltimore
to get their advice. I don’t expect that we’ll hear from him again before he gets home next week.”

“Well, please try not to worry too much about it between now and then, Mrs. Terrell,” Linda said. “Even if he turns out to be drafted, we’re not at war, and with any luck we won’t be for the time that he’d be in the Army.” She looked at Jack. “It’d just be for two years, right?”

“That’s it, as far as I know,” he said.

They visited for a while longer; Greta, Rick’s sister, now a sophomore at Bisque High, was agonizing over whether or not to try out for cheerleading, and weren’t the new property taxes outrageous? Graciously declining the proffered BLT once more, Jack and Linda left Melinda Terrell to ponder her children’s destinies, promising to come to dinner one night next week.

“She’s quite a lady, “ Linda observed as they backed out of the driveway.

“That’s for sure,” said Jack. “Sometimes I feel like she raised me, too.”

“She literally lives for her kids, doesn’t she?”

“And ol’ Richard. She loves the shit out of that man, open debits and all.”

“What the hell is an ‘open debit’, anyway?”

“That means one of his agents quit, or got fired,” Jack chuckled. Seems like he’s had at least one open debit since Rick and I were little bitty boys.”

“Agents?”

“Life insurance salesmen. That’s what they call them.”

“Oh, Jesus. Life insurance. That’s what he does?”

“He’s an agency manager for Standard Mutual. I thought I’d told you. Anyway, it’s not bank robbery.”

“No? My mother knew a guy who sold life insurance. He…”

“You know what Richard used to say?” Jack interrupted. “Nobody loves the ‘policy man’ ’til the insured dies.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s just say that I sympathize even more with Miz Terrell than I did five minutes ago.”

“What? You wouldn’t change places with her? Raisin’ fine, lusty chillun and havin’ supper ready when Daddy gets home?”

Shifting in the seat, Linda slipped her hand between his legs and squeezed, a little less than gently. “You auditioning for the Daddy part, Sparky?”

“Whoa!” he shouted as the car slipped over into the oncoming lane. “What do I get for a ‘yes’?”

“Better take out a policy on your balls first,” she said, releasing them with a final squeeze and moving away. “Anyway, that draft notice’s got to be quite a shock for Rick.”

“Yeah, it’s one of those things that you know can happen, but you never expect it’ll happen to you,” Jack said, lifting four fingers from the steering wheel to greet the unknown driver of a passing
Pontiac. “Knowing that boy as I do, I expect he’s bouncing off the walls right now.”

“No doubt. And you really think he has a future in professional football.”

“I do. God knows he’s tough enough, and smart enough. He’s probably got better than a half–step on
Berry
right now, but he won’t be beating him out of his job any time soon. Where he is, is in a great place to learn all the tricks the Master has up his sleeve. That guy can get open when nobody else can, even if he’s not the world’s fastest human. A couple of years of playing behind
Berry
would have more than a few teams wanting to trade for him as a starter. If he goes away for two years, there’s no way he’ll get that opportunity back; some other quick rascal’ll be there pickin’ Ray-boy’s brains.”

“Who was it that said ‘timing is everything’?” mused Linda.

“Every damn coach, general and politician from Nebuchadnezzar to right now, I ’magine.”

3  “SOME  KINFOLK…”

 “Well,” said Jack as they pulled into the driveway that he still had a hard time believing was anyone’s but Pap’s, “having seen one sort of Bisque lady, I hope you’re ready for a completely different definition.” He stopped close behind the howitzer-caliber twin tailpipes of Cordelia’s ivory Chrysler 300 convertible.

“I hope she’s ready,” Linda said, grinning brightly. “Should I tell her that I just had your balls in a vise?”

“Be no surprise to her; she’s had Buster’s in one for twenty years. Maybe y’all can compare techniques.”

“Could be,” Linda said, returning Cordelia’s wave as she turned her back on a backyard flowerbed to approach the car on the passenger’s side.

Cordelia wore coveralls that someone had spent a long time tailoring to eliminate any hint of a wrinkle, cut from the blue-and-white pinstripe denim known to the locals as “railroad cloth.” A trim schooner, the
Plymouth
logo, sailed on her left breast; her name, embroidered in crimson script, leapt at you from the other one, bright serpentine counterpoint to ash-blond hair that had been cut to pageboy length since Jack last saw her. “Haayeey,” she said, grabbing her hand as Linda lowered the window sufficiently for her to get hold of it. “It’s Linda, riit? Y’all come on in,” she said, releasing it. “I gotta go in just a minute. Wondered when y’all’d get by here, Jackie, me bein’ your only aunt an’ all. Now that I see you, hon, I know Jack’s been showin’ you off around town like hell won’t have it , good-lookin’ as you are. Where’ve y’all been?”

“Well, hon,” Jack said, “We thought it’d only be fittin’ to introduce Linda to the elder uncle first, so we dropped by Gene Debs’s, and yes we went flyin’, ’cause the little lady’s a pilot herself.” eyebrows arched, he looked at Linda. “Hope you don’t mind, hon. You’ve been explaining yourself all morning, so I thought I’d deliver the shocking news for a change.”

“Be my guest, darlin’, but I’ll bet Cordelia knew already. After all, we’ve been in town for over twenty-four hours.” smiling at Cordelia, she said, “Jack tells me no secret’s safe in Bisque for more than twenty-four hours.”

“Child,” she said, she looked at Linda with frank appreciation, “Where you’re concerned, it’d be more like twenty-four minutes. How d’ya like Bisque so far?”

Linda let the question hang in the air for a quarter-beat. “Charming; what I’ve seen of it, that is. We just got here yesterday.”

“And I gotta get outa here today. Don’t that beat all? Well, soon as I get back we’ll have y’all out here for a snifter. Hell, if Buster does good tomorrow we’ll really blow it out.”

“What’s he doing tomorrow?” Linda asked her.

“Hell, hon, Daytona’s tomorrow. At th’ new track. Don’t Jack tell you ennythang about th’ homefolks?”

“Shit,” Jack said with an impatient headshake. “It’s tomorrow?”

“Yes, sweetheart, it’s tomorrow!” Cordelia said, mimicking the headshake as she moved to put him in a mock headlock. “I swear, I don’t know what we’re gonna do with this boy,” she grinned at Linda over the top of his head. Releasing him, she said, “But you’ve got a pretty good excuse this time, Jackie. Th’ lovesick blues’ve been known to play absolute hell with a body’s calendar.”