The Leap

Thanksgiving passed without incident, if one ignores my mother's repeat performance of "Why I Should Be Able To Drive As Fast As I Want," something I, of course, did not ignore, thereby touching off a storm of fingerpointing and recriminations which did not end until the ceremonial Serving of the Pies.

Friday was nice too. Lunch with a couple friends at a local delicatessen, followed by a movie, followed by coming home and doing something so routine I can't for the life of me remember it, probably yelling at my kids.

Soon enough Saturday was here and with it came the promise of a quick trip out of town to see a football game. I'm only mildly interested in football but this was a chance to go see a game in one of the great NFL stadiums. Besides, spending four days in a row with my children was simply too horrifying to contemplate, a sentiment they emphatically shared. So off I went, leaving them in their mother's tender care.

And a lovely time was had by all. A good game and a stadium that's everything it's cracked up to be. The real highlight, however, came on Saturday night. After enough to drink, which is to say too much, we asked a bartender if he could recommend a place to eat.

"I'd look for a hot dog cart," he said.

"A hot dog cart?" I asked. "At this time of night?"

"Yeah. There are usually a few around."

Now, keep in mind we weren't in the sort of city in which one would expect to find hot dogs being sold on a street corner at 1:30 in the morning, especially in air temperatures sufficiently cold to to keep my drink chilled without the benefit of ice. Keep in mind too that the bartender was perfectly capable of yanking our chain for his own amusement. Nevertheless, we were hungry and we departed on our quest.

Lo and behold, he was telling the truth. An actual hot dog vendor not too far from the hotel we were staying.

This wasn't just a hot dog vendor, though. This was a chili dog vendor.

And these weren't just chili dogs. These were chili dogs of the highest order, top quality hot dogs enveloped in perfectly steamed buns before being topped with a pleasantly spicy chili, shredded cheese, and a sprinkling of onion. Were they better than the chili dog I had last year with Chuckles? I'm not sure any food could be better than that, but these were damned close, perhaps even a tie. Good enough that I ate three of them.

When we got in the car this morning, it still smelled of chili dog. Like Proust's madeleines, the chili dog's essence transfixed me.

"Christ, it stinks in here," said my friend.

"No," I said. "It smells like a good time."

"You're a freak," he said.

"I hope they have chili dogs at the game," I said.

They did.

Untitled - Part 44

So far.

Forty-fourth

“This is their street,” Ray said.

“Which house?”

“It should be on the left. Just ahead.”

“There.” Mike pointed. “The blue one.”

“That’s it.” Ray circled the block and parked on the street, a few doors away.

“You think they’re around?”

“Hard to tell.”

“What should we do?”

“Wait. Watch.”

Untitled - Part 43

So far.

Forty-third

Jeffrey backed out of the driveway.

“Can we see the monkeys first?” Tyler asked.

“Alright,” said Linda.

“Can we see the elephants too?”

“Sure,” said Jeffrey. “We’ve got all day.”

“This is nice,” said Linda.

“Yes,” said Jeffrey. “It is.”

“I love the monkeys,” said Tyler.

“We know,” said Linda.

Untitled - Part 42

So far.

Forty-second

“Loose ends. I don’t like that,” said Tommy.

“You think I do?” asked Jackie. “We don’t have a choice.”

“Yeah.”

“A dentist in the suburbs? The cops will never stop looking.”

“Still.”

“Still nothing. It’s your fuck up. You’ve got to fix it.”

“I know.”

“Good. Take care of it.”

Untitled - Part 41

So far.

Forty-first

“Are we there yet?” Mike asked with a fake whine.

“Knock it off,” said Ray.

“Seriously,” Mike said. “Are we?”

“Almost. A few more minutes.”

“How can you find your way around here? Everything looks the same.”

“You get used to it.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“You would if you had to.”

Untitled - Part 40

So far.

Fortieth

“Alright, I’m ready,” Jeffrey said, coming out of the bedroom.

“Finally,” said Tyler.

“Work before play, little friend,” Jeffrey said.

“You’re weird,” said Tyler.

“Yes he is,” said Linda.

“Forthwith to the Camry and the goodies therein,” said Jeffrey.

Linda punched him in the arm. “Come on, Yogi, let’s go.”

Untitled - Part 39

So far.

Thirty-ninth

“Nobody’s home,” said Tommy. “Want me to leave a message?”

Jackie rolled his eyes. “Saying what? ‘We sent some guys over. They’ll probably kill you.’”

“So now what?”

“We can’t stop it. All we can do is tie up the loose ends when it’s over.”

“Loose ends?”

“Mike and Ray.”

Bon Appétit, Volume 12 - Gobble, Gobble

Thanksgiving is almost here! In addition to accumulating large quantities of alcohol in anticipation of an entire day with my extended family, I'm dusting off my Snag family turkey day recipes. Whether you're a traditionalist in the style of Martha Stewart or a foodie on the cutting edge, à la Hannibal Lecter, you'll find something here to satisfy your cravings.

1. Cheese Tray

Acquire one cow. Milk regularly, setting aside milk. Convert milk to cheese. Add three tablespoons Gouda flavoring. Dust with cinnamon sugar and tape to crackers.

Serves 25.

2. Cranberry Sauce

Cran two pounds berries. Heat until molten. Gradually stir in one cup fennel, two small pineapples, and a handful of lard. Whisk until smooth. When cool, pour mixture into hollowed onion halves.

Serves 3.

3. Green Beans

Remove giblets from one pound yellow beans and set beans aside until moldy, reserving giblets. Over a medium hot grill, sauté beans until tender, approximately two hours. While beans are cooking, combine giblets with three mittens and a teaspoon of ferret ink. Combine giblet mixture and beans and pour over toasted bagels.

Serves 16.

4. Stuffing

In a large pot, bring to a boil three quarts eel stock. When stock is at a full boil, slowly add one and a half pounds of turnip flour, stirring constantly until mixture is congealed. Remove from heat and fold in a Hydrox cookie, six mayonnaises, and one plant oregano. Top with bolts and serve at room temperature.

Serves 33.

5. Turkey

Entrap one virgin turkey (cod may be substituted if turkey is unavailable). Defeather bird, taking care not to deflower. Coat with extra virgin olive oil. Immerse turkey in a preheated volcano until fully cooked, approximately four seconds. Mince turkey and roll in sheets of lefse. Drizzle with iodine and serve immediately.

Serves 2.

6. Angel Bacon Cake

Blend three cups flour, a pinch of yeast, two angels, and a pint of bacon. Cook at 350 degrees for fifty two minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the batter doesn't elicit screams. Frost with melted avocado.

Serves 8.

Untitled - Part 38

So far.

Thirty-eighth

Mike came out of the bathroom. He saw the cop getting out of her car. The gun was heavy in his pocket.

They reached the door at the same time.

“Thanks,” said Officer Steenson to Mike, brushing past him as he held it open for her.

“No problem,” said Mike.

Untitled - Part 37

So far.

Thirty-seventh

“Hey,” Mike said. “Stop here.”

“Why?” asked Ray. “We’re almost at his house.”

“I know. I’ve got to take a leak.”

Ray turned into the convenience store.

“I’ll be right back,” said Mike.

Ray watched him walk through the store.

Behind him, Officer Steenson eased her squad into the lot.

Untitled - Part 36

So far.

Thirty-sixth

“Who is it?” asked Jeffrey.

“It doesn’t say,” Linda replied, checking the caller ID. “Do you want me to answer?”

“Dad, you promised we could go to the zoo as soon as you were done with the car,” Tyler said.

“Oh, let it go,” Jeffrey said. “It’s probably a telemarketer.”

Untitled - Part 35

So far.

Thirty-fifth

“Mom, where are my shoes?” Tyler called from upstairs.

“Where you left them,” she called back.

“Where was that?”

“How would I know?”

“Never mind, I found them.”

“Where were they?”

“Where I left them.”

“Funny guy,” said Linda.

Tyler giggled as he came down the stairs.

The phone rang.

Untitled - Part 34

So far.

Thirty-fourth

“They’re not answering,” said Tommy.

“Christ,” said Jackie. “What a fucking mess.”

“What are we going to do?” Tommy asked.

“You’re going to call Woodard.”

“What am I supposed to say?”

“We’ll make up a story. We have to get him out of the house until we find our guys.”

Miss You

I'm traveling again for a few days. As one can imagine, my children greeted this news with great despair.

"Boys, I have to go out of town for a meeting until Saturday," I told them.

"So?" asked the oldest.

"Good," said my middle son.

"Be quiet," said my youngest, who was watching an episode of "Family Guy" he'd seen at least a dozen times before.

I turned to the Lovely Bride for solace.

"You'll miss me, won't you?" I asked.

"Do I need to get the kids to basketball while you're gone?"

"No. They've got rides."

"Thank God."

"You'll miss me, right?" I whined again, a little more plaintively this time.

"Of course I will," she said with a mixture of exasperation and pity.

In a display of maturity and good parenting I stuck my tongue out at the kids. The oldest shook his head in disgust.

Changing the subject, the Lovely Bride asked, "Isn't it nice that our youngest was selected for leadership training?"

"What?" I asked.

"You're deleting my emails without reading them, aren't you?" she demanded.

"No, I wouldn't do that. I've been busy at work is all."

"Doing what? Going out for lunch?" interjected my middle child. The youngest one laughed.

"Shut your holes before I kill you both," I suggested.

"Bring it, old man," said the middle one.

"Yeah, bring it," the youngest echoed, assuming his fighting stance. Our dog Lucy jumped on him and he started wrestling with her.

"Leadership training," the Lovely Bride repeated. She's gotten used to ignoring most of what goes on in our house.

"What about it?"

"Our youngest and a few other kids were picked by the elementary school principal to attend a special half-day presentation on leadership at the high school."

"You're joking, right?" I said. Our future leader was currently pinned on the kitchen floor by a spaniel puppy.

"No, I'm not joking."

"Are they going to show them 'Patton?'"

"I very much doubt it."

"They should. He was a great leader. 'Rommel, you magnificent bastard, I read your book!'" I bellowed.

The oldest snarled, "Shut up," before turning back to his homework.

"Why does he need leadership training when he lives with me?" I asked.

"He needs therapy because he lives with you," said the Lovely Bride. "That's a separate issue."

"That was a cruel comment," I said.

"Don't you need to pack?" she asked.

"Will you miss me when I'm gone?"

"Your absence will be noticeable," she said.

Untitled - Part 33

So far.

Thirty-third

Ray’s phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID.

“Who is it?” asked Mike.

“Jackie.”

“You going to answer it?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’ll be over soon. I’d rather give him good news.”

“He’ll be pissed you didn’t answer.”

“He’ll just figure bad reception.”

“You better hope so,” said Mike.

Untitled - Part 32

So far.

Thirty-second

Linda gave a friendly wave to Officer Steenson as she drove past the house. The squad car slowed and stopped.

“How’ve you been, Ms. Woodard?”

“It’s hard to complain on a day like this. How’s it going with you?”

“Another quiet one.”

“That’s what we like to hear,” said Linda.

Songs I Never Hated - Part 3

Untitled - Part 31

A recap.

First

"What's in this?" he asked.

"Nothing. Eggs. Salt. Pepper."

"Is it good?"

"It’s fine. It’s eggs."

He took a bite. "Not bad."

"I told you."

“So.”

"So?"

"What do you think?"

"I don't know."

"Is it safe?"

"I don't know. Probably not."

"We have to do it."

"Yes. We do."

Second

They’d talked about it for weeks. Risks, rewards. It was like a business to them. It was a business. Not the way most people thought about business, maybe, but a business still. It took planning and investment and sweat and if things went well there was profit to be made.

Third

The radio played while they ate. The window was open and the music carried in the still, heavy morning heat, a song that wasn’t good and wasn’t bad. A year from now nobody would remember it. Mike smiled to himself and pushed his toast around the plate, drank some coffee.

Fourth

Ray finished his eggs. “Those were good,” he said.

“Glad you liked them,” said Mike. “Ready to make the call?”

Ray shrugged. “You’re sure this is the right number?”

“I checked it. Three times. He’ll be there.”

“What if he’s not?”

“He will be.”

Ray dialed.

Somewhere the phone rang.

Fifth

Nobody answered. It rang and kept ringing.

Ray hung up. “You said this was the right number.”

“It is. I checked it. Twice.”

“You said three times.”

“It doesn’t matter, I checked it. It’s his.”

“Why didn’t he answer?”

“He’s not there.”

“Or he doesn’t want to talk to us.”

Sixth

She picked up the phone and listened to the dial tone for a moment.

“Who was that?” asked her son.

“Nobody,” she answered. “A wrong number.”

“Was it Dad?”

“No.”

“Where is he?”

“He’ll be home soon.” She began putting away groceries. Soup. Oreos. Green peppers. A bottle of wine.

Seventh

Ray swore and poured more coffee. Bourbon was better but that was for later. When they had the money. When they were gone, nothing left behind but some dirty dishes.

Mike dried the frying pan. “What are we going to do?” he asked. “I’m counting on this. I have plans.”

Eighth

“We all have plans,” said Ray.

“What are we going to do?” Mike asked again.

“We’re going to find him.”

“It’s a big city.”

“He’s a big man. We’ll find him.”

“What if we can’t?”

“He’ll find us,” said Ray.

“Why?”

“He’s got a wife. A kid.”

Mike grinned. “Right.”

Ninth

“What are we going to do today?” Tyler asked his mother.

“We’ll see,” she answered.

“Can we go to the zoo?”

“We’ll see,” she repeated.

“Where's Dad?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is he late?”

“A little.”

“Call him.”

“Not yet," she said. "In a few minutes. If he isn't home soon.”

Tenth

“Where does he live?” asked Mike.

“In the suburbs,” said Ray.

“That figures,” said Mike. He jammed the pistol in his belt.

“You going to use that?” asked Ray.

“Maybe. If I have to.”

Ray shrugged. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”

“You always drive.”

“Someone has to.”

“Why you?”

“Why not?”

Eleventh

Jeffrey pulled into the driveway. His wife and son were at the door.

“Where were you?” Linda called. “We were getting worried.”

“I stopped for donuts,” Jeffrey replied. “Chocolate.” He held up a bag. “There was a line.”

“You’re sweet,” said Linda. “Coffee?”

He gave her a kiss. “Yes. Thanks.”

Twelfth

“Can we go to the zoo?” Tyler asked his father.

“We’ll see.”

“That’s what Mom said."

"Your mother's a smart lady."

"Please?"

“Maybe.”

“That means no.”

“That means maybe.”

“The zoo would be fun,” said Linda. She smiled.

He smiled back. “Let me wash the car first. Then we’ll go.”

Thirteenth

Ray and Mike drove through the city. At a stoplight a woman pushed a stroller past their car. They watched her walk away.

“Good legs,” said Mike.

“Not bad,” Ray agreed.

“Do you know to get there?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I had a job out there once.”

“Nice neighborhood?”

“Nice enough.”

Fourteenth

Jeffrey finished his coffee and pushed away from the table. He stood.

“Are you going to wash the car now?” Tyler asked.

“Hold on, Sparky. I need to change.”

“Okay. Hurry up.”

“Pick up your room while we’re waiting for your father,” said Linda.

“Do I have to?”

“Yes. Scoot.”

Fifteenth

The sun was high now. A lawnmower was running nearby and the air smelled of cut grass.

Linda followed Jeffrey upstairs. “Thanks, honey,” she said. “Tyler’s really excited.”

“It’ll be fun. We haven’t been there in a long time.”

“Remember how he used to love the monkeys?”

Together, they laughed.

Sixteenth

“Why do you think he did it?” asked Mike.

“Did what?” asked Ray.

“Chanced it.”

“I suppose he’s greedy. Like everyone.”

“He must be stupid.”

“Why?”

“He knew this would happen.”

“What?”

“Whatever happens.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s stupid.”

“What does it mean?”

“It just means that he’s not lucky.”

Seventeenth

“You think it’s luck?” Mike asked.

“Luck. Fate. God. Something. It doesn’t matter.”

“God doesn’t matter?”

“Does it matter why something bad happens?”

“I guess not.”

Ray sighed. “Bad is bad.”

“Does he deserve it?”

“Like I said. It doesn’t matter.”

“What if it matters to me?”

“That’s your problem.”

Eighteenth

In an office high above the city, Jackie waited. He wasn’t a patient man.

“Where the fuck are those guys?”

“Want me to call them?” asked his assistant.

“I don’t want to talk to them. I just want this thing done.”

“They’re good. They’ll take care of it.”

“They better.”

Nineteenth

Tyler cleaned his room.

“Hi there, Mr. Fuzz, how are you?” he said, putting a stuffed bear on a shelf.

“I’m fine, Tyler, how are you?” he said in a different voice.

“I’m happy, Mr. Fuzz. I get to go to the zoo today.”

Unnoticed in the doorway, Linda smiled.

Twentieth

“You think maybe we should call Jackie?” Mike asked.

Ray grimaced. “No.”

“Why?”

“Jackie wants to know it’s done.”

“So?”

“Are we done?”

“No.”

“There you go.”

“What if he calls us?”

“Let’s hope he doesn’t.”

“What if he does?”

“We’ll tell him we’re on our way to finish it.”

Twenty-first

Jeffrey filled a bucket with water. He had a sponge, soap, wax. He waved to his next door neighbor.

“Too bad you’ve got to spend such a nice day washing your car,” the neighbor said.

“I don’t mind,” said Jeffrey. “I’m going to the zoo later. With Linda and Tyler.”

Twenty-second

“Are you sure you know where we’re going?” asked Mike.

“Yes,” said Ray.

“I don’t know why anybody would want to live way the hell out in the middle of nowhere.”

“To get away.”

“From what?”

“Everything.”

“I guess it didn’t work out that way for him.”

“I guess not.”

Twenty-third

Linda finished putting away the dishes and looked outside. She saw Jeffrey talking to the neighbor. There was no point in rushing him. The zoo was nearby, at least not far, and the day spread out before her with its warm and lazy rhythm. They had time, all they needed.

Twenty-fourth

Officer Steenson piloted her squad through the quiet, suburban patrol grid. She enjoyed her work. It was easy, compared to the city. Barking dogs, speeding tickets, once in a while a drunk driver or a family argument. Slipping into middle age and with two kids at home, easy was fine.

Twenty-fifth

Jackie slammed his hand on the desk.

“I can’t believe that prick tried it.”

His assistant nodded.

“Tommy, do I look stupid?”

It wasn’t a question. Tommy stopped nodding.

“How can I run a business if people think I’m stupid?”

“You can’t,” said Tommy.

“Damn right I can’t,” said Jackie.

Twenty-sixth

“It’ll be over soon, boss,” said Tommy.

“Good.”

“I'm telling you, when we get done with Woodard, nobody’s gonna pull that shit again.”

“Get done with who?”

“Woodard.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Woodard. The guy.”

“Who’s Woodard?”

“You know. The guy.”

“Oh, Jesus, what did you do?”

Twenty-seventh

Behind her, Linda heard the clank of the cookie jar lid. She turned.

“Tyler Jonathan Woodard, what do you think you’re doing?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he mumbled sheepishly through a mouthful of Oreo.

“Didn’t you just have a donut?”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

“Then no more cookies, mister.”

“Sorry, mom.”

Twenty-eighth

“It’s a nice day at least,” said Mike.

Ray drove.

“The sun’s out. It’s plenty warm. Wish I didn’t have to work.”

“What else would you do?” asked Ray.

“Golf, maybe.”

“When did you start that?”

“I haven’t. I want to.”

“Golf?”

Mike shrugged. “I like hitting things.”

Ray laughed.

Twenty-ninth

“Woodard?” Jackie said.

Tommy stared at the floor. He didn’t speak. He didn’t move.

“Woodard?” Jackie repeated. His voice was rising. “Do you know who Woodard is?”

“The guy?” Tommy asked hesitantly.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Woodard’s not the guy.”

“Who is he?”

“He’s my fucking dentist.”

Thirtieth

Turning off the hose, Jeffrey stood back and admired his work.

“That’s a fine looking piece of engineering,” he said.

“It's a Camry, for God’s sake,” said Linda. She’d come out to check on his progress. “Are you almost done?”

“I’ll put on some dry clothes and we can leave.”

Thirty-first

“He’s your dentist?” asked Tommy. He looked queasy and pale.

“That’s right, you dumb fuck,” Jackie snapped.

“You told me the guy’s name was on your desk. That’s where I found it.”

“Jesus. Call them.”

“Who?”

“Mike and Ray.”

“What should I tell them?”

“Tell them to leave Woodard alone.”

Untitled - Part 30

So far.

Thirtieth

Turning off the hose, Jeffrey stood back and admired his work.

“That’s a fine looking piece of engineering,” he said.

“It's a Camry, for God’s sake,” said Linda. She’d come out to check on his progress. “Are you almost done?”

“I’ll put on some dry clothes and we can leave.”

Untitled - Part 29

So far.

Twenty-ninth

“Woodard?” Jackie said.

Tommy stared at the floor. He didn’t speak. He didn’t move.

“Woodard?” Jackie repeated. His voice was rising. “Do you know who Woodard is?”

“The guy?” Tommy asked hesitantly.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Woodard’s not the guy.”

“Who is he?”

“He’s my fucking dentist.”

Untitled - Part 28

So far.

Twenty-eighth

“It’s a nice day at least,” said Mike.

Ray drove.

“The sun’s out. It’s plenty warm. Wish I didn’t have to work.”

“What else would you do?” asked Ray.

“Golf, maybe.”

“When did you start that?”

“I haven’t. I want to.”

“Golf?”

Mike shrugged. “I like hitting things.”

Ray laughed.

Good Boy

When I got out of bed this morning, I found our puppy had chewed up my wallet. It was an almost perfect metaphor that could have only been improved upon had my children fed the cash to her and then used a credit card to slit my throat.

What that meant, of course, is that I had to go buy a new wallet tonight. Fortunately, I already needed to go shopping after I dropped the middle son off at practice. It's the weekend our basketball association hosts its annual tournament, you see. That means I need to contribute two cases of soda for the concession stand, one for my youngest and one for the middle kid, each of whom plays. With the Lovely Bride in class, it also means I get to pull two volunteer shifts this weekend.

So, between the games and another eight hours working concessions, I expect to spend roughly twenty-four hours at the gym between Friday night and Sunday afternoon. As one can imagine, my children are wildly appreciative of my efforts, which makes it all worthwhile.

Seriously, though, why do I do it?

On Monday, my oldest boy's high school cross-country team had its end of the season banquet. While he no longer makes an active pretense that we're unrelated, he still had no interest in sitting with me during the meal. Instead, I used the time to catch up a little with some of the other parents.

When dinner was over, it was time for the introductions. It's a pretty big team and the coach, a math teacher from the middle school, took time to acknowledge every runner. They came to the front of the room, one by one, he said some nice things about them, noted their personal best times and their other contributions to the team. Then the captains stood up and offered their own comments.

This year my kid got a varsity letter, earned largely by grinding out mile after mile at practices, some of them after school but a lot of them during the summer and early on Saturday mornings. He got a certificate athletes can receive if they keep their grades high enough. Not least, his captains also named him the team "ladies man," which might have had something to it given the way the girls started giggling.

The mother sitting next to me giggled too and said, "Sounds like you might need to have a talk with him on the way home."

I'm not worried. About a year ago my friend H. and I were sitting in my kitchen after having a couple drinks and my son made the mistake of walking through the room.

"Hey, come here," said H. My kid sat down.

"You know the facts of life, right?" asked H.

"Yeah. Sure. I guess," said the boy.

"Okay. If you get a girl pregnant, your old man's going to kick your ass. Then the girl's dad's going to kick your ass. Then I'll kick your ass too."

"Okay," said my kid.

"So be smart," said H.

"Okay," said my kid.

On the way to the car after the banquet I asked him if he needed to talk to my friend H. again. My son, who is far more levelheaded and responsible as a high school student than I have ever been in my life, flinched and said, "What makes you think I would ever forget that conversation?"

I was proud of him that night and I think he was proud of himself. I hope so. He deserves to be. When I get tired of the demands of my kids' sports, and I sometimes do, I think of nights like these, when I look around a room and see the respect my children have earned and the friends they've made and the memories they'll have, and I realize it's worth a couple of bucks and a few hours of my time.

Untitled - Part 27

So far.

Twenty-seventh

Behind her, Linda heard the clank of the cookie jar lid. She turned.

“Tyler Jonathan Woodard, what do you think you’re doing?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he mumbled sheepishly through a mouthful of Oreo.

“Didn’t you just have a donut?”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

“Then no more cookies, mister.”

“Sorry, mom.”

Songs I Used to Hate - Part 7

Untitled - Part 26

So far.

Twenty-sixth

“It’ll be over soon, boss,” said Tommy.

“Good.”

“I'm telling you, when we get done with Woodard, nobody’s gonna pull that shit again.”

“Get done with who?”

“Woodard.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Woodard. The guy.”

“Who’s Woodard?”

“You know. The guy.”

“Oh, Jesus, what did you do?”

Songs To Drink By - Volume 1

Pinko Punko was worried about my new sunshiny spirit. Never fear.

Untitled - Part 25

So far.

Twenty-fifth

Jackie slammed his hand on the desk.

“I can’t believe that prick tried it.”

His assistant nodded.

“Tommy, do I look stupid?”

It wasn’t a question. Tommy stopped nodding.

“How can I run a business if people think I’m stupid?”

“You can’t,” said Tommy.

“Damn right I can’t,” said Jackie.

Harvest Time

I spent the weekend at a friend's cabin.

"Be careful," said the Lovely Bride as I was packing. "It's deer opener."

"I know," I replied. "I'm bringing my antler hat. You can finally collect on my insurance."

My youngest perked up at this. "Woo hoo, we're going to be rich!"

"I love you too, buddy," I said absently, as I tucked some vinegar in with my socks.

"Why are you bringing vinegar?" the Lovely Bride asked.

"To keep away the flies."

"What?"

"You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."

"Then why are you bringing honey?"

"Bear bait."

"Well, that's just great," said my middle son. "Bears. Now you're putting the whole cabin in jeopardy."

His younger brother and I giggled. The Lovely Bride looked confused.

"It's from Anchorman," I explained.

"Best movie ever," said my youngest.

"Except for Gangs of New York," said the middle one.

The Lovely Bride rolled her eyes. "Your father got in enough trouble for letting you watch that," she told the middle boy. "Don't make it worse." Turning to me she asked again, "Why are you bringing honey and vinegar?"

"It's for a recipe," I said.

"What are you making?"

"Cannibal stew."

"What's cannibal stew?" asked the youngest.

"It's made from dead people," I told him.

"Gross," he shrieked.

"Ignore your father," said the Lovely Bride.

"I learned to eat it in the Army," I told him. "It was part of our training."

"What's wrong with you?" the Lovely Bride asked.

"Seriously. That way if you're ever trapped behind enemy lines you'll have overcome the social barriers that would prevent you from doing what you need to survive."

"You've never had a problem ignoring social barriers," said the Lovely Bride.

"That's because I have high self-esteem," I said.

"Because you're a moron," said my oldest son.

"Anyway," I continued, "the Army would cook up these huge vats of cannibal stew and then everyone would have to try a spoonful."

"You're lying," said my youngest. "The Army didn't let you kill people."

"Of course not. They used people who died accidentally. Like human road kill."

"So where are you going to get a dead person this weekend?" he asked triumphantly. "Nowhere. Liar."

"He'd have a point if this conversation made sense," the Lovely Bride told me.

"I'm spending the weekend with my friends at a cabin full of liquor in the middle of the woods during deer hunting season. What are the odds we're all going to survive?"

The Lovely Bride contemplated this.

I started nibbling on her neck. "Mmm, you'd make good stew."

"Go away," she said.

"Kiss the cook," I said, giving her a smooch.

"Gross," said the youngest.

Untitled - Part 24

So far.

Twenty-fourth

Officer Steenson piloted her squad through the quiet, suburban patrol grid. She enjoyed her work. It was easy, compared to the city. Barking dogs, speeding tickets, once in a while a drunk driver or a family argument. Slipping into middle age and with two kids at home, easy was fine.

Untitled - Part 23

So far.

Twenty-third

Linda finished putting away the dishes and looked outside. She saw Jeffrey talking to the neighbor. There was no point in rushing him. The zoo was nearby, at least not far, and the day spread out before her with its warm and lazy rhythm. They had time, all they needed.

Untitled - Part 22

So far.

Twenty-second

“Are you sure you know where we’re going?” asked Mike.

“Yes,” said Ray.

“I don’t know why anybody would want to live way the hell out in the middle of nowhere.”

“To get away.”

“From what?”

“Everything.”

“I guess it didn’t work out that way for him.”

“I guess not.”

Untitled - Part 21

A recap.

First

"What's in this?" he asked.

"Nothing. Eggs. Salt. Pepper."

"Is it good?"

"It’s fine. It’s eggs."

He took a bite. "Not bad."

"I told you."

“So.”

"So?"

"What do you think?"

"I don't know."

"Is it safe?"

"I don't know. Probably not."

"We have to do it."

"Yes. We do."

Second

They’d talked about it for weeks. Risks, rewards. It was like a business to them. It was a business. Not the way most people thought about business, maybe, but a business still. It took planning and investment and sweat and if things went well there was profit to be made.

Third

The radio played while they ate. The window was open and the music carried in the still, heavy morning heat, a song that wasn’t good and wasn’t bad. A year from now nobody would remember it. Mike smiled to himself and pushed his toast around the plate, drank some coffee.

Fourth

Ray finished his eggs. “Those were good,” he said.

“Glad you liked them,” said Mike. “Ready to make the call?”

Ray shrugged. “You’re sure this is the right number?”

“I checked it. Three times. He’ll be there.”

“What if he’s not?”

“He will be.”

Ray dialed.

Somewhere the phone rang.

Fifth

Nobody answered. It rang and kept ringing.

Ray hung up. “You said this was the right number.”

“It is. I checked it. Twice.”

“You said three times.”

“It doesn’t matter, I checked it. It’s his.”

“Why didn’t he answer?”

“He’s not there.”

“Or he doesn’t want to talk to us.”

Sixth

She picked up the phone and listened to the dial tone for a moment.

“Who was that?” asked her son.

“Nobody,” she answered. “A wrong number.”

“Was it Dad?”

“No.”

“Where is he?”

“He’ll be home soon.” She began putting away groceries. Soup. Oreos. Green peppers. A bottle of wine.

Seventh

Ray swore and poured more coffee. Bourbon was better but that was for later. When they had the money. When they were gone, nothing left behind but some dirty dishes.

Mike dried the frying pan. “What are we going to do?” he asked. “I’m counting on this. I have plans.”

Eighth

“We all have plans,” said Ray.

“What are we going to do?” Mike asked again.

“We’re going to find him.”

“It’s a big city.”

“He’s a big man. We’ll find him.”

“What if we can’t?”

“He’ll find us,” said Ray.

“Why?”

“He’s got a wife. A kid.”

Mike grinned. “Right.”

Ninth

“What are we going to do today?” Tyler asked his mother.

“We’ll see,” she answered.

“Can we go to the zoo?”

“We’ll see,” she repeated.

“Where's Dad?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is he late?”

“A little.”

“Call him.”

“Not yet," she said. "In a few minutes. If he isn't home soon.”

Tenth

“Where does he live?” asked Mike.

“In the suburbs,” said Ray.

“That figures,” said Mike. He jammed the pistol in his belt.

“You going to use that?” asked Ray.

“Maybe. If I have to.”

Ray shrugged. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”

“You always drive.”

“Someone has to.”

“Why you?”

“Why not?”

Eleventh

Jeffrey pulled into the driveway. His wife and son were at the door.

“Where were you?” Linda called. “We were getting worried.”

“I stopped for donuts,” Jeffrey replied. “Chocolate.” He held up a bag. “There was a line.”

“You’re sweet,” said Linda. “Coffee?”

He gave her a kiss. “Yes. Thanks.”

Twelfth

“Can we go to the zoo?” Tyler asked his father.

“We’ll see.”

“That’s what Mom said."

"Your mother's a smart lady."

"Please?"

“Maybe.”

“That means no.”

“That means maybe.”

“The zoo would be fun,” said Linda. She smiled.

He smiled back. “Let me wash the car first. Then we’ll go.”

Thirteenth

Ray and Mike drove through the city. At a stoplight a woman pushed a stroller past their car. They watched her walk away.

“Good legs,” said Mike.

“Not bad,” Ray agreed.

“Do you know to get there?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I had a job out there once.”

“Nice neighborhood?”

“Nice enough.”

Fourteenth

Jeffrey finished his coffee and pushed away from the table. He stood.

“Are you going to wash the car now?” Tyler asked.

“Hold on, Sparky. I need to change.”

“Okay. Hurry up.”

“Pick up your room while we’re waiting for your father,” said Linda.

“Do I have to?”

“Yes. Scoot.”

Fifteenth

The sun was high now. A lawnmower was running nearby and the air smelled of cut grass.

Linda followed Jeffrey upstairs. “Thanks, honey,” she said. “Tyler’s really excited.”

“It’ll be fun. We haven’t been there in a long time.”

“Remember how he used to love the monkeys?”

Together, they laughed.

Sixteenth

“Why do you think he did it?” asked Mike.

“Did what?” asked Ray.

“Chanced it.”

“I suppose he’s greedy. Like everyone.”

“He must be stupid.”

“Why?”

“He knew this would happen.”

“What?”

“Whatever happens.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s stupid.”

“What does it mean?”

“It just means that he’s not lucky.”

Seventeenth

“You think it’s luck?” Mike asked.

“Luck. Fate. God. Something. It doesn’t matter.”

“God doesn’t matter?”

“Does it matter why something bad happens?”

“I guess not.”

Ray sighed. “Bad is bad.”

“Does he deserve it?”

“Like I said. It doesn’t matter.”

“What if it matters to me?”

“That’s your problem.”

Eighteenth

In an office high above the city, Jackie waited. He wasn’t a patient man.

“Where the fuck are those guys?”

“Want me to call them?” asked his assistant.

“I don’t want to talk to them. I just want this thing done.”

“They’re good. They’ll take care of it.”

“They better.”

Nineteenth

Tyler cleaned his room.

“Hi there, Mr. Fuzz, how are you?” he said, putting a stuffed bear on a shelf.

“I’m fine, Tyler, how are you?” he said in a different voice.

“I’m happy, Mr. Fuzz. I get to go to the zoo today.”

Unnoticed in the doorway, Linda smiled.

Twentieth

“You think maybe we should call Jackie?” Mike asked.

Ray grimaced. “No.”

“Why?”

“Jackie wants to know it’s done.”

“So?”

“Are we done?”

“No.”

“There you go.”

“What if he calls us?”

“Let’s hope he doesn’t.”

“What if he does?”

“We’ll tell him we’re on our way to finish it.”

Twenty-first

Jeffrey filled a bucket with water. He had a sponge, soap, wax. He waved to his next door neighbor.

“Too bad you’ve got to spend such a nice day washing your car,” the neighbor said.

“I don’t mind,” said Jeffrey. “I’m going to the zoo later. With Linda and Tyler.”

Rust Never Sleeps And Neither Do Zombies

I've got to think Rotten's posted this somewhere, but what the hell, I steal from him all the time anyway.

Untitled - Part 20

So far.

Twentieth

“You think maybe we should call Jackie?” Mike asked.

Ray grimaced. “No.”

“Why?”

“Jackie wants to know it’s done.”

“So?”

“Are we done?”

“No.”

“There you go.”

“What if he calls us?”

“Let’s hope he doesn’t.”

“What if he does?”

“We’ll tell him we’re on our way to finish it.”

Whither Snag?

Now that the stupid voters have failed in their democratic duty to elect me, I need to find something else to do. I'm thinking a nice cushy job in the Obama administration would be just the ticket. Rotten already has dibs on the Ministry of Hemp, but I've seen a few other openings that intrigue me.

1. Department of Defense - Director of Weapons Testing
This position has direct responsibility for blowing stuff up. Oversees shooting other stuff. In addition, may occasionally be requested to contaminate stuff.

2. Department of Agriculture - Undersecretary of Meat
This person will oversee the George A. Hormel Meat Lab located on the campus of Northeastern Oklahoma A&M College. Subordinate agencies include the Bureau of Ham and the Department of Butchery. Experience in meat design is required.

3. Central Intelligence Agency - Secret Agent
Go away before we kill you.

4. Department of Transportation - Deputy for Gondola Affairs
This highly visible position manages compliance with gondola construction standards, develops and administers gondolier training, and serves as a liaison to various state and national gondola associations.

5. Internal Revenue Service - Senior Inquisitor
This position is responsible for locating and extracting hidden taxpayer assets. Applicants must provide their own Ginsu knives and a washable smock.

Untitled - Part 19

So far.

Nineteenth

Tyler cleaned his room.

“Hi there, Mr. Fuzz, how are you?” he said, putting a stuffed bear on a shelf.

“I’m fine, Tyler, how are you?” he said in a different voice.

“I’m happy, Mr. Fuzz. I get to go to the zoo today.”

Unnoticed in the doorway, Linda smiled.

Snag's Concession Speech

My fellow Americans:

Thank you.

Untitled - Part 18

So far.

Eighteenth

In an office high above the city, Jackie waited. He wasn’t a patient man.

“Where the fuck are those guys?”

“Want me to call them?” asked his assistant.

“I don’t want to talk to them. I just want this thing done.”

“They’re good. They’ll take care of it.”

“They better.”

I Love Elections - Some Of Them More Than Others

Good For The Gander

We had dinner at my friend E.'s house this weekend, along with the A.s. Mr. A., who was born and raised in India, told us a story about a cobra killing a Pomeranian in his childhood neighborhood.

"You should get a mongoose," I said. "Better safe than sorry."

"Yeah, Panamanians hate geese," said E.

"What are you talking about?" asked A.

"The Panamanian who killed your snake." said E.

"Bastard," I said. "I bet it was Noriega."

"He was scared of geese."

"Because of the rabies."

"Absolutely," said E. "You have to keep geese away from dogs because of that."

"Especially Pomeranians," I added.

"That's why you need a mongoose."

A., who had been watching us, turned to our wives.

"They're idiots," said the Lovely Bride.

"Yes they are," said E.'s wife.

A.'s wife nodded her agreement.

"No we're not," I said.

"We're silly geese," said E.

Untitled - Part 17

So far.

Seventeenth

“You think it’s luck?” Mike asked.

“Luck. Fate. God. Something. It doesn’t matter.”

“God doesn’t matter?”

“Does it matter why something bad happens?”

“I guess not.”

Ray sighed. “Bad is bad.”

“Does he deserve it?”

“Like I said. It doesn’t matter.”

“What if it matters to me?”

“That’s your problem.”

Untitled - Part 16

So far.

Sixteenth

“Why do you think he did it?” asked Mike.

“Did what?” asked Ray.

“Chanced it.”

“I suppose he’s greedy. Like everyone.”

“He must be stupid.”

“Why?”

“He knew this would happen.”

“What?”

“Whatever happens.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s stupid.”

“What does it mean?”

“It just means that he’s not lucky.”

Untitled - Part 15

So far.

Fifteenth

The sun was high now. A lawnmower was running nearby and the air smelled of cut grass.

Linda followed Jeffrey upstairs. “Thanks, honey,” she said. “Tyler’s really excited.”

“It’ll be fun. We haven’t been there in a long time.”

“Remember how he used to love the monkeys?”

Together, they laughed.