Wait. That is a girlfriend.
But anyway, it was a great relationship.
For me.
Maybe Trudy would be willing to live with me a while for a fee. She could bank the gift I give her each month, and I’d handle her expenses.
I have half a mind to turn the car around and see if Trudy might be interested in this type of relationship. You know, until she can find a nice guy. My guess is no, but it’s worth asking.
Except that I’m about to turn off the highway onto Leeds Road, which puts me less than two miles from Faith Hemphill’s ranch. I’ve come all this way, I should at least meet her.
As I start my turn I see a car broken down on the side of the road a hundred yards ahead. It’s an isolated area, and this guy clearly needs help. His hood is up, his wife is sitting on the ground, holding a baby. He’s waving at me.
My plan is to pretend I don’t see him. I’m a New Yorker, so this is status quo for me.
But this guy won’t be denied!
He sees me and suddenly starts jumping up and down and flailing his arms in a way that makes him impossible to ignore. He’s actually stepping into my path on the road, putting himself in danger, determined to flag me down. A guy this determined has to be in serious trouble.
But I view this situation the same way I view religion.
If your religious beliefs bring you joy and comfort, I’m happy for you. Because the world needs good, positive people who believe they’re here for a purpose. To me, the best of the bunch are those who get involved and willingly help others.
There are good, solid, decent country people all over this fine state. And I believe almost anyone who lives in this isolated area would be thrilled to stop and help this poor family. They wouldn’t think twice about the hassle, the heat, the inconvenience, or the blood or vomit that might wind up getting on their car seats.
Since I’m not like these people, I don’t want to deprive those who are. Doesn’t it make sense this family should be helped by those whose joy in life is to help others?
I think so.
I flip him the finger and keep going.
As I drive toward Faith’s house I decide I don’t really want to see her. What I really want is to drive back to Starbucks County Hospital and spend the rest of the afternoon sitting with Trudy, keeping her company. We’ll talk, laugh, and get to know each other better.
That’s what I’d like to do.
But what if Trudy doesn’t want me?
I’d be driving all that way only to be turned down.
She’s probably already asked Robert Bothwell to wire the first ten grand to her personal account. If so, he’s already explained she gets the money whether or not we’re a couple. By now she’s come to the conclusion the money’s enough. She can finance her new life and find a good man closer to her age. That would be in her best interest.
But you know what I’m thinking right now?
Trudy’s young and impressionable. And I might be able to talk her into a relationship that would be in my best interest.
To put it another way, Trudy’s worth fighting for.
She’s absolutely worth fighting for, and I’m willing to drive all the way back to Starbucks to see if I can find some common ground that would give us a chance to be together, even if it’s only temporary. If necessary, I’ll spend all evening trying to convince her. Then, if she still doesn’t want me, I won’t badger her. I’ll accept her decision and move on.
I wonder if I’m starting to fall in love with her.
God, I’d hate to lose Trudy tonight.
Of course, I’d feel a lot better about losing her if I fuck Faith Hemphill first.
20
Darrell Lake.
“What do you mean he drove right past you?” Darrell yells into the phone. “You should’ve flagged him down!”
“I did flag him down,” Cletus says. “I jumped up and down and waved my arms and got halfway in the lane.”
“That’s bullshit. If he’d a’ seen you, he would a’ stopped.”
“He saw me, all right. Gave me the finger.”
“What?”
“He looked at Maisie and the baby sittin’ on the ground, then looked at me, swerved into me, to force me to jump off the road, then flipped me the finger as he went by.”
“What the fuck kind of doctor does a thing like that?” Darrell says.
“A bad one, you ask me.”
“Now what’re we gonna do?” Darrell says.
They pause, thinking about it.
“It was such a simple plan,” Darrell says. “He pulls over to help you, you bash his head in, and rob him.”
“And make sure he’s dead before drivin’ off,” Cletus adds.
“That’s right. We’re eighty-six hundred richer, and he can’t run off with my wife.”
“Sister.”
“Whatever.”
Cletus says, “You sure he’s got that much cash on him? ’Cause that’s a lot of cash.”
“Accordin’ to Scooter he’s got five grand and Trudy give him another thirty-six hundred this mornin’. ’Course, Trudy might a’ lied about that part. But even five grand’s a lot of money. And he’ll have drugs in his medical bag.”
“We still know where he’s headed. And I still got Maisie and the baby with me, if that helps.”
“Are you really that stupid?” Darrell says.
“What do you mean?”
“That’s a doll, not a baby. And there is no fuckin’ Maisie.”
“Right. I know that. I’m just sayin’, me and Renfro can keep pretendin’ to be husband and wife, with a baby. If it helps. So what do you want me to do?”
“Let me think on it a minute and call you back.”
21
Cletus Renfro.
If you’re out in the middle of nowhere, thirty miles north, east, or west of Clayton, Kentucky, and happen upon an old, beat-up motor home, and the fumes coming out of it suggest someone inside might be conducting illegal, non-agrarian chemical experiments, you’ve likely stumbled on Darrell Lake’s mobile crystal meth lab. And if you’re dumb enough to get close enough to holler the name Cletus Renfro, it won’t be one person shooting at you, it’ll be two.
Because Larry and Tulie Renfro named both their twins Cletus.
Not that they looked the slightest bit alike, one being a girl and all.
The problem was the parents were told by the ultrasound lady at the hospital that Tulie was going to have a boy. Larry and Tulie fought like cats and dogs over the name. Larry was fond of Clem, Tulie wanted Brutus.
Their arguments went far beyond the type you’d find in civil homes. By the time Larry and Tulie compromised by taking three letters from each name, to arrive at Cletus, only three teeth remained attached to Tulie’s gums, and Larry had lost all feeling on his left side.
It was Larry by day with his fists, Tulie by night with her frying pan, and they surely would’ve killed each other had it not been for Social Services who threatened for the first time in Wilford County history to take someone’s children before they were even born!
Even so, theirs was an uneasy truce. So incendiary was this issue of names, when Tulie popped out the second child, Larry said, “Fuck it. Name that one Cletus, too.”
“But it’s a girl,” the doctor said.
“I don’t give a shit,” Tulie said. “They’ll both be Cletus, and they can work it out on their own.”
Growing up, it didn’t matter to the twins what they were called. But their first grade teacher insisted the girl have her own identity, so the female Cletus said, “Call me Renfro.”
And that was that.
Renfro Renfro?
Why not?
But the kids at school called her Cletus anyway, and that’s what stuck. Except that Cletus continues to call his sister Renfro, which pleases her. Of course, when she’s pissed at him, she pushes his buttons by calling him Renfro, which makes for classic, and interesting, arguments.
Cletus and Renfro toss the fake baby in the trunk and climb in the car to avail themselves of the air conditioning.