What a complete waste of time. Was there any way the day could be more frustrating?
I pushed open the library door, and the answer to my question was in my face. It came in the form of a water balloon, which had just left the hand of Dewayne Loach.
3
I ducked.
The water balloon sailed over my head. It hit the wall behind and exploded, splashing on the back of my shirt.
Dewayne and the knuckle draggers were laughing when I stood up. They stopped when they saw the murderous look on my face.
“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t kick all of yours asses,” I said.
We met in the middle of the hallway. The crowd formed a ring around us.
“That stunt you pulled the other night, insulting my brother about his sign,” Dewayne said. “You think you’re funny, chump? I got news for you, that’s my house, and ain’t nobody disrespecting me in my own house.”
“It was a store.”
“Everywhere I am, that’s my house.”
“You live at the college then?”
“Do what?”
“You said this was your house. It looks like a campus to me. You seem confused about geography.”
“Up yours.”
“I’m sure you’d like that,” I said, “but you’re not my type.”
Dewayne swung, just like I knew he would. The punch came from the right, a haymaker aimed for the side of my head, but I blocked it easily.
“You think that’s funny?” Dewayne swung again, winding up with the opposite hand. “I’ll show you funny.”
I rammed an elbow into Loach’s chin. The force of the blow staggered him, and he fell on his ass. I expected him to pop right back up, but he stayed put.
“Had enough?” I asked.
A whistle blew.
The crowd whipped toward the sound.
The campus cop was running toward us, blowing her whistle and reaching for a can of pepper spray.
His buddies pushed Dewayne away.
I was waiting for the cop when Cedar appeared.
“Boone! Let’s go!" She steered me to the custodian’s closet. Pushed me inside and shut the door. “You don’t need more trouble with cops!”
“This is nice and roomy for a closet,” I said.
“Sit down.” She turned on the faucet in the utility sink, then splashed water on my face.
I lost my balance and grabbed the nearest thing to me. It was warm and soft and wearing blue jeans.
“That’s my ass, Boone.”
“Sorry.”
“No, you aren’t.” She removed my hand. “Fighting is stupid.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“Because guys are stupid.”
“No argument there,” she said and splashed more water in my face.
I fished out my handkerchief. “Use this.”
“Is it clean?”
“Clean enough.”
She held the handkerchief under water, rung it out, and dropped it into the trashcan. “Damn it, I’m such a klutz…What’s this?” She reached down, then stopped, “I don’t believe it.”
“What?”
Pinching only a corner, she pulled a plastic bag from the trash. It was labeled with large black letters:
Sodium.
And underneath, in red:
DANGER! EXPLOSIVE MATERIAL!
4
“Thank the Lord for half-days.” Mom threw herself into her chair. She pulled off her heels and slapped them on the desk. “Now I can stop this travesty in its tracks.”
I lay stretched out on the couch with the newspaper over my face, trying to hide.
Mom’s laptop binged as it booted, followed minutes later by her fingers on the keyboard, first squeaking like guitar strings, then like a fan on a snare drum.
“You’re making enough noise to wake the dead.”
“I intend to.”
“I’m not dead,” I said from under the paper.
“Not you.” She pounded away. “I am referring to the brain dead puppets on the County Council. The planning board says destroying the Tin City cemetery is completely legal!”
“Those would be the puppets?”
“The one and the same. They say the development company has signatures for the relatives of the deceased giving them permission. I find that hard to believe. Don’t you find it hard to believe?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“I’m not.”
“I’m tired of being patronized today.”
I moved the paper aside. “Is this about the injunction you filed?”
“The injunction that was denied, you mean.”
“Did you see they identified the victim of the Nagswood fire?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Any thoughts?”
“Many. Come to the Council meeting tonight, and you’ll hear them all.”
I checked my watch. 1615 hours. “I was hoping for a ride to the regional history museum.”
“That’s halfway across the county. What’s wrong with your truck?”
“Oil leak.”
“Fix it.”
“I will once I get to the auto parts store. Can you give me a ride there first?”
“Not until after five PM, my dear boy.”
Lamar walked down the hallway. He was dressed in olive green slacks and a starched white shirt.
“If you’re ready to go.” Lamar buttoned both cuffs. “I’ll run you down to the store. I’ve got some errands to do.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll get my stuff.”
While I was getting ready, the house phone rang. Mom answered and took the call outside for privacy. She finished as Lamar and I were leaving.
“What’s that on the grass outside?” Mom asked me on the way to the truck. “Is that cookies?”
“Possibly.”
“How long have they been there?”
“A while.”
“Why are they still on the grass?”
“Thought the birds would eat them, but even the crows didn’t touch them.”
“Smart birds,” Lamar said.
“Boone?” Mom crossed her arms. “Did you try cooking again?”
“I had a sweet tooth, so I used your recipe to make some snickerdoodles. They were a failure. I don’t understand why. I followed the recipe precisely.”
Mom clamped her lips together, struggling not to laugh. “There’s your trouble. The best recipes are never in a book.”
5
Twenty minutes later, Lamar’s truck was roaring down Highway Twelve toward Atamasco at seventy miles per hour. We had just left the auto parts store, where I had bought the parts to fix my truck.
"Mind dropping me off at the museum, too? I can kill two birds that way."
"Don't mind at all."
“Just an observation,” I said, “but when I drive over the speed limit, there’s always a deputy around the next corner. Especially Deputy Mercer.”
Lamar drummed his fingers on the wheel. “Normally, I would say you’re being paranoid, but that feller has given tickets to at least three firefighters. Julia got one on the way to that brushfire up in Black Oak Shelter.”
“He almost busted me on the Tin City call, remember? If Sheriff Hoyt hadn’t stopped me, he would’ve Tased me.”
“Hoyt’s pretty good at keeping his deputy’s reined in. Comes with the territory.”
“I’m not following you.”
“In North Carolina, the office of sheriff is elected, which means half the job is political. Hoyt’s a good man, and he follows the spirit of the law, but there are some things he does to stay on the voters’ good side.”
“Got anything in particular in mind?”
“When I read the paper today, I got a little worried about a few things Hoyt said. There are times when it’s a good idea to stay away from politics, if you know what I’m saying.”
I wasn’t quite sure what Lamar meant, but it seemed like a good time to nod.
“By the way, your mama’s proud as punch you were the one who found that woman. I may not like the way it happened, but there’s no doubt those inspectors never would’ve found her.”