Frank’s Coming
"They're the pig's peas," Fred said. "She has to have something
now and then. Are there any leftovers that we won't eat in the
fridge or scraps from making dinner last night?"
Yeah, there's some stuff in that bowl over there and another bowl of
something in the refrigerator you can give her," she said. "I
suppose you would like to bring her in the house to warm up a while
too."
"No,
I think I'll pass on that. She's too hard to get out of here,
once she gets in. Last time she got in here, she knocked over all
the furniture before we wrestled her back outside again. I think
I'll go sweep off the couch on the porch for her though. I might
even find her a blanket or something. There is a kind of tarp
like thing out in one of the sheds I could throw over her once she
finishes eating."
He
went to the refrigerator, took out the bowl of leftovers, combined it
with the bowl from the counter and turned back to Ellis. "Where's
those peas?"
"They're in the back of that cupboard." He pointed to one of the
lower cupboards.
Fred
opened the door and took out what was left of a large cloth sack of
peas, put a couple of hand fulls into the bowl and slid the sack back
under the counter. Picking up the broom, he went out on the front
porch, set the bowl down and swept the snow off the couch. Effie
oinked and grunted happily when she got to the bowl and Fred reached
down, stroking the thin coarse hair on her back and sides, before he
went back inside.
"Jesus, it's cold out there," he said as he shut the door and set the
broom down. "I think I better put on a coat to find that
tarp." He picked the thirty-eight up off the counter and went to
the coat hooks for his coat. "I suppose we should keep these
handy today," he said, poking the gun down the front of his pants and
went out the back door.
Francine picked up the tobacco that lay in the center of the table and
began rolling a cigarette. "You want me to make you a real
cigarette, Ellis?" She said smiling across the table at him.
"Sure, why not?" He answered, getting up and going into the
parlor. He checked the stove and finding it doing okay, he picked
the candy tin up and brought it back into the kitchen. "Maybe, we
should fill this thing up with enough joints to last a day or two and
then stash the rest of the dope somewhere hard to get to, so we're a
little better prepared for the cops, if they come."
"Yeah, that's a good idea. Get out the big bag, and I'll roll up
a bunch of them and then we can hide the bag somewhere. I suppose
we need to dig out all the pipes and roach-clips and anything else that
has to do with drugs too. Where do you think we should stash all
that shit?"
"I
was thinking we could put it all in a bucket or something and bury it
under the hay mow in the barn," he said, picking up the cigarette she
had set on the table between them.
"We
better make it so Effie can't get at it. That would be a real
bummer if she found it and ate it or something."
"There used to be a big metal can out in the granary with a lid that
fits real tight. I'll go look for it in a bit. I think if
we move some of the hay and dig a hole for the stuff, then cover it
back up with the hay, it would be safe from both Effie and the cops."
Effie had finished her mixture of peas and scraps and began to root at
the door, just as Fred returned with the tarp. He called softly
to her and patted the cushions on the couch. She nosed over to
him and with a little more coaxing, climbed up onto the broken down old
couch and lay down. Fred covered all but her snout with the tarp,
stroked her soft nose and came back inside.
"There," he said, taking off his coat and hanging it up, "that ought to
keep her happy for a while."
"Hey
Fred," Ellis said, "we were just thinking that we should clean the
place out of all our dope related shit and ditch it, until this thing
with Frank's over with."
"Yeah, good idea."
"Do
you have any pipes or anything up in your room?" Francine asked.
"I
have one pipe is all, I think. Duncan has a couple, I'm sure and
I don't know what John has. Where you plan on taking all the
stuff?"
"Ellis was thinking of burying it under the hay mow." She reached
over to the stove, picked up the coffeepot and filled her cup, then set
the pot on the table and slid it toward Ellis.
He
filled his own cup along with Fred's and set the pot back on the
stove. They sat quietly watching Francine roll joints for a few
minutes and then Fred picked up one of the deftly made little
cylinders, inspected it's craftsmanship and put one end in his mouth.
"You
got some fire, Ellis?" He asked.
Ellis tossed him a book of matches. He lit the joint and handed
it to Francine, who paused briefly, took a hit and passed it on to
Ellis. Footsteps were heard on the stairs and Duncan came around
the corner into the kitchen. Ellis held the joint out to him
without a word and he took it.
"Where's this go next?" He said, still trying to hold his breath.
Fred
held out his hand, Duncan handed it to him and then went into the
bathroom.
When
he came out, he picked up a cup from the dish rack, filled it and sat
down. "Well, what's up? Is this the day Frank finds
us?" He asked without really looking for an answer.
He
didn't get an answer. He just got a question.
"You
got any pot or paraphernalia around that could get us busted?"
Fred asked. "We're going to clean out the house except for what
we need, so if the cops end up out here, we're ready for them."
"Yeah, I got a couple things up in my room," he answered. "When
are you going to do this?"
"Oh,
I don't know. After we eat something, I guess." Fred took a
hit on the joint and passed it to Francine.
Francine waved it away, jumped up and opened the oven door.
"Fuck!" She said. "I'll bet I just burned the shit out of
the cakes." She reached in, grabbing the pan with her bare hand,
jerking it away immediately, shaking it in the air and then sticking
two fingers in her mouth. "Goddamn that fuckers hot!" She
rolled her sleeve down over her hand, pulled the pan out of the oven
onto the open door and looked at the cakes. They had darkened
some, but weren't black yet. She felt one. It was dry and
hard on the surface, but felt like it might be soft yet inside.
She snatched it up, took it to the counter and taking a knife from the
dish rack, she cut it open. "Well," she said turning around to
the boys at the table, "they won't be as good as they could have been,
but they're edible. A lot of butter might help."
She
went to the refrigerator, took out the butter and set it on the
table. Ellis reached down, picked up the pan of cakes lightly
with both hands and quickly put it on the edge of the table. He
shook his hands as well.
"Jesus, that is hot," he said, sliding the pan to the center of the
table.
Francine set three butter-knives on the table and sat down. "Go
for it," she said. "They'll be a little dry, but they'll be okay."
"Like Boesel always said; 'brown's burnt and black's done'. They
look alright to me." He grabbed up one of the knives, cut open a
cake and proceeded to spread butter on it.
The
others followed. They sat eating and making small talk.
They each finished one and split the remaining two, each getting
half. When they were done, Ellis stood up, placed the pan and
knives on the counter and crudely wiped the crumbs off the table, into
his hand with his sleeve. He held the handful of crumbs for a
moment, looking at them and then popped them into his mouth.
"Waste not, want not," he said, chewing them up and swallowing them.
"Oh
God, you're gross," Francine said, contorting her mouth into pinched
shape that indicated her disapproval. God only knows, what was on
that table besides crumbs."
Fred
and Duncan each licked the end of a finger, picking up the crumbs Ellis
had missed and eating them.
"You
guys are all gross," she said, shaking her head at the lot of them.
There were several thumps from upstairs and the sound of two sets of
feet coming down the stairs.
"Looks like the love-birds are up," Duncan announced as John and Molly
appeared in the kitchen.
"Well, sleep in why don't you? It's almost ten o'clock," Francine
said, laughing.
"Oh,
we were really tired," John said sarcastically.
"Doesn't look like anyone's going to school today," Duncan said, taking
the last drink of his coffee.
"It
snowed last night," John explained as Molly headed for the bathroom,
"and we can't be driving after a snow. You know how dangerous it
is."
They
all laughed and John went to the sink, picked up two cups and walked
around the table to the stove. He picked up the coffeepot, poured
what was left of the coffee into the cups and went back to the
counter. "That's it for the coffee," he said as Molly came out of
the bathroom.
"I'll make some more," Francine said, starting to get up.
"Oh
no, I'll get it," Molly said walking to the sink. "I haven't done
anything around here yet. I might as well make some
coffee." She stood on her tiptoes to give John a quick kiss and
then began making a fresh pot of coffee.
John
sat down in the last chair, looking at the scatter of cups and the pile
of various other things, congregated in the center of the table when
Ellis wiped up the crumbs. He spied the open candy tin, now
completely full of freshly rolled joints. They were lined up side
by side, three layers deep and four in a row, with one extra, sitting
diagonally on top. "Francine's been doing her job, I see," he
said, reaching for the joint on top.
"Yup!" She said, with a smile. "I rolled up a baker's
dozen, but the little tin will only hold twelve."
"Well, I guess we better get this one smoked up, so you can close the
tin." He picked up a book of matches from the cluttered pile and
lit the joint. Choking slightly, he took a drink of his coffee
and handed the joint on to Fred. "You know, we need one more
chair in here, so we can all sit down," he said looking around, hoping
to see another chair.
"There's another chair in my room," Francine offered.
"There's one in my room, too and Fred has one and..." Ellis
began, but was interrupted.
"Yeah, and there's one out in the barn somewhere and there's two in the
granary, I think," Duncan threw in. "We've got plenty of chairs
around, even if we're short on other stuff."
"I'll grab the one out of my room, for now," Francine said, standing up
to get the wooden chair from her room. As she threw the pile of
clothes that lay on the chair onto the bed, she could hear Punt's loud
bark pierce through the walls of the house in a series of rapid high
pitched howls. She returned to the kitchen, chair in hand, as
John went to the window. He looked down the empty wind-swept
expanse, to where the road came around a corner. There was
nothing to see, but Punt kept up his barking and the other dogs joined
in.
Fred
too, went to the window and as he got there, a car came into sight in
the distance. It was light blue with a dark top. John's
heart throttled forward, pumping faster. He knew it was Frank
immediately. The image of that car had fastened itself to his
mind the other day, when he and Molly had seen it in town and it had
hung there constantly, waiting for this moment. He just stared
down the road at it coming toward them. He was frozen and
speechless.
"Well, is that him?" Fred asked.
John
nodded, but didn't say a word. He couldn't. Molly stepped
to the window, looking out, just as the car went behind the granary
sitting out at the head of the driveway. When it reappeared, it
pulled into the driveway, slowed and stopped behind Duncan's Toyota.
"That's him!" Molly said. "Oh, Goddamn, that's him."
Ellis had already grabbed the shotgun, handed it to Francine and was
picking up the rifle when Molly spoke. Fred turned from the
window and picked up the thirty-eight from the counter.
"Hey
Molly," Ellis said moving toward the back door, "Do you have
anything to say to him, because if not, you don't have to."
"No
way!" she answered. "I have nothing to say to him. In fact,
I'm not even going out there." She turned from the window and
went into the parlor.
"I'll go out the front, Ellis and you go to the back. We don't
let him in the house, right?" Francine said, as she moved to the
door out onto the front porch.
"Where should I be?" Fred asked, still standing next to the
counter.
"I
think you should stay in here for now, just in case he gets in,
somehow," Francine said.
"I
don't want him more than five feet from that car, if we can help it,"
Ellis said opening the door to the back porch. "Let's just let
him talk a little and then run him out of here, if we can. Better
hurry, he's getting out."
Francine and Ellis went out different doors and met Frank, from about
thirty feet away, as he stepped out of his car. The dogs had quit
barking and were walking around the car, smelling the tires. He
shut the door to his car and began to walk around the front of it to
the house. As he reached the front bumper, Francine called to him.
"Hey!" She yelled. "Don't come any further." He
looked startled, but took another step.
"I
said don't come any closer," she yelled again, as Ellis cycled a shell
into the chamber of the rifle.
Frank heard the sound of the rifle and stopped. "What the hell's
the matter with you people anyway," he said reaching inside his
coat. "You sure as hell aren't very friendly."
"Listen here Frank," Francine said calmly. "We know who you are
and why you're here. Molly doesn't have anything to say to you
and she isn't going to see you, now or ever, so you might as well just
turn your ass around and get the hell out of here."
"Look honey, this ain't none of your business, so why don't you just
stay out of it and send Molly out here, right now."
"Tell you what Frank," she said, still calmly, but showing a bit of
anger. "If you call me honey again, I'm going to blow your
fucking head off. Molly isn't going anywhere with you and you
better just leave, right now."
"I'm
not going anywhere, until I see Molly. You tell her to get her
stuff and get out here. And why don't you put that gun down
before you hurt yourself. You're not going to shoot anyone," he
said, pulling his hand out from under his coat. He held a large
automatic pistol, like the Colt Fred had coveted in the hardware store,
several days before. He held it out for Francine to see.
"I've got one of those too, but I will shoot someone, if you don't get
Molly out here right now." He took another step, but stopped as
she leveled the shotgun toward him
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