"Tell him, while I'm on the subject of wiping, to just wipe ninety percent of the laws off the books. They're useless, obstructionist, and furthermore costing us all far too much money. Just tend to the roads, encourage business and agriculture, keep the state police strong, and stay out of everyone's life."
"I'll be sure to tell him. That can be his maiden speech. Ought to be a big hit among a group of people whose job security depends on making more laws."
"Then what in the hell is he doing there?" She continued to look both ways. "Where are these people coming from?"
"North of the Mason-Dixon line," Susan mused.
"Can't we send them back?" Harry smiled, then glanced at the clock in the dashboard, still ticking away after decades. "Lunch. Forgot about the time."
"Then you'd better get me to the cafe before everyone sits down. I'll never get my hot chocolate."
"We can sit at the counter. While I'm waiting for these Yankees to pass you have time to write, 'will die without hot chocolate' and pin it to your blouse. The notebook is in the door pocket."
"And leave us in the car? No fair!"came the chorus.
"Pipe down. Finally." Harry pulled out, turned left, then turned immediately right into the old bank parking lot. "We could have gone into menopause waiting."
"Don't even breathe that word." Susan grimaced, notebook in hand, although she hadn't written anything.
"We're a long way away."
"Maybe so but, boy, my mother suffered, and they say it's hereditary."
"I'll buy you a hat with a little fan in it. I, personally, am not going to go through anything."
"O la!" Susan cracked the window enough for plenty of air.
Harry did the same on her side. "We won't be long."
"You always say that."Mrs. Murphy dropped her ears slightly.
"Yeah, and someone comes in and the next thing you know it's who-shot-John."Tucker used the old Southern expression for catching up with the news—news to men, gossip to women, although of course the information was exactly the same.
"Yeah. Not fair. We could die of heat prostration in here."Pewter tried the medical route, which wasn't convincing since the temperature outside was fifty-two degrees. It might get to sixty at the most inside the truck with the windows cracked.
"They're going to abandon us! Just like children in Rio de Janeiro's slums."Mrs. Murphy sounded plaintive.
"They shoot them."Pewter licked her lips with not glee so much as pride of imparting shocking information.
"They do not."Tucker was aghast.
"Yeah, they do. I heard Fair talking about it to Harry after the news. You were asleep. They shoot them because the children are criminals. I can't imagine why they steal or maim, can you?"Pewter sarcastically replied.
The animals erupted into a heated discussion about why humans kill their young as opposed to why and when animals kill their young.
As Harry and Susan walked away, Harry turned, "What's gotten into them?"
"They'll settle."
"Either that or I'll need to reupholster the seat."
"Your truck will be fine."
Small stones breaking through the crumbing old macadam crunched underfoot.
"Hey, did I tell you that Fair brought me a new pair of Wolverines and two dozen pink tulips? He is so sweet."
"Yes, he is. When did you switch to Wolverine?"
"When Timberlands slid downhill. They're so cheaply made now. I have that pair I bought in 1982—"
"The one your old German shepherd chewed the back off?"
"Yes, but I had Frank Kimball put on a new piece of leather with a roll for my Achilles tendon. It worked."
"For over twenty years. I'd say Timberland ought to get your business."
"That's just it. I went to AN, tried on a few pair of work boots, and Susan, they just aren't the same. I was so disappointed. So then I tried on Montrails at the Rockfish Gap Outfitters in Waynesboro, and they are really good but really expensive. Had to pass. Then I went to Augusta Coop and tried a pair of Wolverines. Pretty darned good and affordable, but I was so worn out by trying on all these work boots, I gave up. But I did tell Fair."
"Harry, only you can agonize over work boots. It's not the expense, you're obsessing."
"You say." Harry became enlivened. The topic of money usually had that effect on her. "The Montrails were $130! The Wolverines weren't so much less, maybe thirty dollars, but I thought they were a lot of boot for the money. 'Course, I won't know until I work in them. I'm on my feet all day. I can't do with bad work boots or ones that are going to fall apart from horse pee and poop and tractor oil. I have good reason to agonize."
"You're right." It was easier to agree.
They pushed open the door to find the usuals perched on their stools at the counter, where Hy entertained Karen Osborne. Her marriage to Pete deterred Hy not a whit.
Harry sat next to Karen, and Susan sat on the other side of Hy, since those were the only vacant stools.
Susan begged Kyle for hot chocolate, pronto.
"Karen, how are the horses?"
"Good. All the spring visitors want trail rides. I cherish my lunch hour." She smiled.
"I'll bet. I don't see how you can run a hack barn. Takes a special person. I couldn't do it, deal with people who know nothing about horses but who want to ride."
"It helps that I have good horses."
Susan called down to Karen, "In any endeavor. My mother used to say, 'A second-rate horse makes a second-rate rider,' and you sure see that in the hunt field."
Hy, in his element—surrounded by women—flattered them. "I don't see how you girls can jump those big fences."
"We don't, Hy, the horse does," Harry answered as she held up her forefinger, which meant one cup of orange pekoe tea.
Kyle nodded as he foamed the whipped cream on Susan's hot chocolate, since she was perishing before his very eyes for want of it.
The door swung open and Toby stomped in. "Hy, what were you doing in my vineyard today?"
Hy, surprised, swiveled around on his stool. "I wasn't there."
"The hell you weren't. I saw your white truck. No one else has a gold fleur-de-lis on his truck."
"Toby, if I were going to see your vineyards, I'd call on you first. I wasn't there."
"That was your truck." Toby's face reddened.
"The fleur-de-lis is small. Did you drive up to this alleged truck of mine?"
"No. I saw it from a distance, but I know your truck."
"And from that distance you determined it was my truck?"
"Liar! It was your truck. You were on my property and I damned well want to know why!"
Hy, out of deference to the ladies, stood up, stepping away from the counter as everyone held their breath. "I told you, I was not at your farm. I don't think anyone who works for me was at your farm, but I will check as soon as I return home. If they were, I will tell you immediately as well as why. Give me your cell number."
"What I'm giving you is fair warning. If you so much as put a foot on my land I will shoot you. I know why you're there. You want to ruin my grapes. You can't stand that I'm growing better grapes than you are. Stay off my land or I'll put you under it!"
"You're utterly deluded." A look of apprehension crossed Hy's face.
Toby yanked back his right fist, slamming it hard into Hy's jaw. Hy had a glass jaw. He sank like a stone, coldcocked.
Kyle flew around the corner, but that fast Toby ran out the door.
"Goddammit!" Kyle cursed.
"I'll take care of him." Karen called for one of the waiters to throw her a clean towel. She poured her water on it and knelt down, placing the wet towel on Hy's forehead.
Both Harry and Susan knelt down with her.
Kyle called the sheriff. Deputy Cooper just happened to be near the new post office. She pulled a three-sixty, hit the siren and lights to cross the road without waiting for the endless traffic.
When she opened the door, Hy was coming to, blood seeping from his mouth for he'd bitten his tongue when he was hit.
"Hy. Hy. Can you hear me?" Cynthia bent over in front of him.