CHAPTER 22

22.

 

© 2010 GREG DUNAJ

              The five boys sat on a rail fence seemingly impervious to the strong Texan sun. Idly they lounged like predators amongst prey, a pride of lions within reach of food. One boy lay along the length of the fencing, resting his jaw on his hands. Another dangled his legs and kicked at the ground, his chin resting on the top rung. The twins hung like bats upside down from the top fence rail, their legs hooked over it and their long red hair flitting in a breeze like a crackling campfire.

              All of them watched the traveling companions, Harry, Carlo and Charley, as the trio rested on the shady porch of the main house. Though the boys filtered their stares through fingertips and side glances, or their eyes seemed closed completely from the bright sun, none of the five missed a thing. With the slightest motion by anyone on the porch, every head would snap to attention in their direction. From their perches the boys would ogle the group intently. Only after the prey settled would the leveled stares of the predator boys return to an apparent indifference to their presence. Hands again would cover eyes, chins again would rest on arms.

              Harry, Carlo and Charley were in various stages of sleep, having been up far too long to reach this destination. They had been asked to wait on the porch by the elders of the ranch. So close to their final prize and yet so exhausted they thankfully collapsed. Harry rested on his elbows, his head against a pillar of the porch. He was snoring lightly, his head turned upwards, his chin quivered as he breathed. Charley, nestled between his thighs, was also asleep. Her head rested on Harry’s hip and one hand idly laid on his crotch. Carlo was fighting sleep, but losing the battle and the war. The last time he had really slept, in the car, Harry got them lost. Though he stood with a leg crooked and a foot resting against the wall, he was slack shouldered and droopy eyed and his cigarette clung desperately to his lower lip. He teetered as he fought the urge to lay fully on the porch and fall asleep.

              Carlo’s foot slid off the wall and stopped him from falling to the porch and the gang of boys nearly exploded with excitement. Every tow head popped up, every smudged face glared, wide-eyed, at Carlo. One boy balanced himself on the top rung of the fencing to glower at the man who had been on the road for four days with not enough sleep. The twins fell off the fence and to the ground in their over zealous state. They picked themselves up quickly and scrambled to the fence again. Carlo noticed the commotion he had caused with his abrupt movement and chuckled to himself. He plucked the cigarette from his lip and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. He looked up at the boys staring back at him and pointed his chin at them.

              The twins nodded back, a third timidly waved his hand, but another boy leaped off the fencing and stomped towards the porch. Impossibly tanned, his hair the color of straw before an October harvest, his eyes dark and impenetrable, Robert, the toughest of the group, strode up and placed a ragged sandal on the porch. Holding his arms akimbo, he barked at Carlo.

              “What’re you doing here for?”

              Carlo lolled his head at the boy and looked at him for a moment, slack jawed. He could not believe the tone of the boy’s voice. A smile crawled across the man’s face slowly and he wiped its snail trail away with the back of his hand. Snorting, his eyes fluttered and closed fully and Carlo fell asleep standing.         Robert watched him and said impatiently in his sharp voice, “hey, I’m talking to you!”

              Carlo’s left cheek twitched as he looked at the boy with watery, sleep drenched eyes. He dropped his head down again until his chin touched his chest.              His shoulders sagged, and one hand absently searched for a pocket of his jeans but it kept missing the slit.

              “Go away kid, ya bother me,” Carlo slurred.

              “Yeah, well you bother us,” said Robert, now leaning his elbows on his knee and bending forward. It would all be threatening, if Robert was older than nine years old.

              Carlo yanked his head up and waggled it at Robert and the gang of boys through his heavy eyelids and snorted again. With his smile dripping from his face he feigned fear.

              “Sorry little dude, we don’t mean to bother you. We’re just here for a visit and then we’ll be moving on. We’re so tired,” he said.

              Carlo slumped to a seated position with his knees up for a moment, before extending his legs straight out.

              “We just came in from New Jersey, and that’s a long way …”

              “I know where New Jersey is,” Robert said sharply. “When are you going back?”

              From his seated position Carlo tapped his toes together a few times. Through heavy eyelids he looked at Robert, his smile crooked and his lips moist with drool. His clicked his toes again. “I can’t go back. I seem to have lost my ruby slippers.”

              Harry looked like he was sleeping. He had his eyes closed, but he chortled at Carlo’s quip. Robert nearly fell on his butt. He didn’t expect Harry to be awake and listening. He was suddenly outflanked! With Charley still asleep in his lap Harry pulled his head away from the pole and stared fully at Robert. In a gravelly, threatening mumble Harry growled, “go away kid, ya heard the man, you’re bothering us.” The boy stumbled and crawled back to the fence and scrambled over it to the other side and relative safety. He peered through the railings, his eyes wide and fearful.

              Not knowing Harry was quite docile and this was completely out of character for the man, the boys stared back at him like treed raccoons. Opening his ice blue eyes fully now at the gang of boys, Harry glowered at them and sneered appropriately.

              “You heard me,” he yelled gruffly when the boys did not move. “Get lost or I’ll kick your asses into next week!”

              Harry patted Charley’s head after he yelled, fearful he had awakened her, but the boys were off on a full tilt run.

              Harry and Carlo looked at each other and giggled. Carlo clicked his toes again.

              “That was a good one,” said Harry in a hoarse whisper.

              Harry chuckled and Charley stirred. Absently her hand tightened on his crotch. Harry drew his lips back in a mock grimace, rolled his eyes and stroked the girl’s head. 

              “She’s something…,” Harry started, but Carlo had fallen asleep. His head dropped onto his chest and both hands flopped to the floor. His cigarette rolled onto the porch, finally stopping in a crack in the wooden floorboards.

              The door to the main house opened and several people walked out onto the porch. A petite woman wearing work boots clomped over to Carlo’s cigarette and picked it up. She was wearing coveralls and had her long, black hair tied back and covered by a kerchief. She took a long, deliberate pull on the cigarette and held it before her pursed lips as she kept the smoke in her lungs. With her eyes half closed, she allowed rivulets of smoke to seep out from one corner of her mouth. Harry beamed brightly at the woman. Pinned down by the slumbering Charley, Harry nodded at her.

              “Dedalus,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “We’re here to see Dedalus.

              Still holding Carlo’s cigarette before her lips, the woman wheeled around and looked down on Harry.   “We need the barn shoveled out,” she said to one man who had followed her onto the porch. She walked back to the door of the main house, took one more long drag on Carlo’s cigarette and then tossed it onto the ground. Tendrils of smoke spiraled and danced as the screen door banged shut.

              One of the men stepped off the porch and motioned to Harry to follow him. The man was short and his belly was round. He had a tired, withered look about him. Tufts of hair stuck out at odd angles from his balding pate. Wiggling his fingers at Harry, the man nodded with his head and said flatly, “come on.”

              Harry screwed up his face, “where to?”

              “You heard Mistress Allen,” he said. “The barn needs to be shoveled out.”

              “Well that’s great,” said Harry, trying to remove the slumbering Charley’s death grip from his penis. “So, what are you telling me for? I’m not here to shovel shit. I’m here to meet Dedalus.”

              “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” said the little man in his flat voice. He wiggled his fingers some more at Harry and he rolled his eyes.

              “We can really use your help,” said the other man, standing on the porch. He was a tall man with gray hair. Deep crevices of wrinkles coursed his brow and cheeks. His voice was gentler and his eyes had an imploring depth to their gaze. He smiled weakly and also nodded his head in the direction of the barn.

              Harry looked at both men with an incredulous look.

              “But… I didn’t drive all the way here from New Jersey to shovel shit.”

              “If you want to meet Dedalus…,” said the little man, his voice becoming sing-song and the words trailing off. He nodded his head with a jerking motion for further emphasis. The older man wagged his head in agreement, his eyes wide and his face frozen in a silly grin.

              “You mean… Dedalus is in the barn?”

              “No!” The little man slapped at his thighs. “No… He’s not in the barn.” His voice was suddenly angry. “Why would he be in the barn?”

              “I dunno,” said Harry, finally prying Charley’s fingers from his tender self. Cradling her head, he lowered it onto the porch. He stroked hair from her eyes and she smiled in her sleep. “Why would I want to go in the barn unless he’s there,” he said turning back to the men.

              The little man leaped onto the porch. Harry had stepped down, so the two were now nearly eye-to-eye.

              “Hey, don’t come in here and waste our time. All right? You heard the Mistress; the barn needs to be shoveled out!”

              “I’m not going to shovel the fucking barn out! I’m fried. I’m barely awake and I’m not here to work, I’m here to meet the man.”

              Harry kicked at a rock, his arms on his hips. The two men watched him.

              “He was supposedly here, on the porch, waiting for us.” He nodded at Carlo, still sleeping. “That’s what he told me.” Harry flicked his wrist at the snoring Carlo.

              The little man’s demeanor softened after a moment.

              “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said, “when I came here, I thought I’d get him to play some of my songs, you know, on tour.”

              He slapped at his bald head.

              “I was an idiot. I stood out here for days holding my tapes, hoping he’d come out to at least meet me, you know, to say ‘get lost already‘. Naw, he didn’t do that. And, well, the barn still needs to be shoveled out.”

              The little man flapped his hand at Harry, beckoning him to follow.

              Harry worked his fingers at a kink in his neck, kneading the tightness there. He squeezed one eye closed and peered at the two men with the other. He shifted his gaze between Carlo and the two men. He bit his lip and rubbed his neck some more and then kicked at a stone.

              “This is fucked up.”

              “Well…,” said the little man.

              “I mean, what is this place? I thought Dedalus lived here. I’m not here for an audition. I don’t have any tapes. I just like the guy’s music. And, I’m not gonna stay here for days. I mean, that’s stupid.”

              “Well…,” said the little man, with a small grimace and a wince.

              Harry was puzzled. He squeezed an eye closed and asked the little man how long he’d been here. The little man hesitated. Harry repeated his question.

              “Hell, I gotta eventually get home. How long have you been here?”

              “Well, er, three years,” said the little man.

              “Three years and 10 months,” chirped the other man proudly. He folded his arms and smiled broadly.

              Harry blinked at them. The older man’s smile never faded, but the little man began wagging his head in apparent embarrassment. Harry swallowed hard.

              “And, have you ever met the guy?”
              “Yes!” The older man chirped quickly. He raised his hand and wiggled his fingers. “I met him!”

              “What? When did you meet him?” The little man said incredulously. “You’ve never met him. When did you meet him?”

              The older man shuffled his feet and looked at the ground for a moment.

              “Well, now I can’t remember.”

              The round, little man angrily slapped his thigh and vigorously shook his head.

              “I knew you didn’t meet him. I knew it! You’re just saying it to piss me off.”

              “I’m not trying to piss you off John.”

              “Well, you’re doing a good job, Ernie. You know how it pisses me off if you go bragging about something that didn’t happen.”

              “But, I did,” said Ernie. He shook his head and his jowls flapped. He was earnest, his look imploring. “It’s really about which time are you talking about. I’ve met Dedalus several times. Mostly in town, once in San Antonio. It’s no biggie. He’s a regular guy. I mean, like anyone, you don’t stop him if he’s doing something else, you know, interrupt him, like when he’s eating. But, I’ve met him, shook his hand. Didn’t tell him I lived here though, I think he would not have been as friendly.”

              John flopped onto the porch. His shoulders sagged and he pulled at his face with a hand. He let out a loud, breathy sigh.

              “How? How did you get to meet him?”

              “I dunno. I’ll bet though it’s because I’m not a fan. Like good karma or something.”

              John screwed up his round face and gave Ernie the once over.

              “I’m a big fan,“ said the little man. “I know why I’m here. But, if you’re not a fan, why would you even come to this place? I mean, this is like ground zero for all that is Dedalus.”

              Ernie flounced his jowls a bit and shook his shoulders. “Well…okay. But this is a good place to live. Here I’ve got a place to stay. I do some chores and I got a place to sleep. I didn’t have this much in Iowa. The weather is better here too. So, all in all this was a good move for me.” He then turned to Harry, a hand held to the side of his mouth. “Really! Why this place is a big whoop with some people I dunno.” Ernie rolled his eyes comically.

              “Is that right,” said John, hands on his hips, his bald head wagging. He stomped along the porch over to where Ernie was standing. “This isn’t just a ‘big whoop’ ya butt munch.  People feed off the aura that is Dedalus and find new and everlasting meaning to their lives. They come here to gain an inner peace with themselves. They become one with everything, serene and happy and joyful. This is more than a place to stay, more than a way of life, it is life!”

              John’s passionate words were filled with meaning and strength and spoke of great and lofty ideals. They were wonderful, heartfelt words that showed how devoted some of Dedalus’ fans were to his simple endearing songs and missives.  John’s words could have inspired even the darkest souls to believe in all that was Dedalus, if only they were not being screamed. With each word the little man hopped and spittle flipped out of his mouth and onto his moustache or onto his bald head where the droplets sizzled and crackled.

              The door of the main house banged open and Mistress Allen tramped out again, followed hurriedly by two women and a man.

              “What’s going on here? Is that barn shoveled out yet,” said Mistress Allen using a stern voice.

              John immediately stopped his yelling and dropped his hands to his side and lowered his head, effectively averting his eyes from Ms. Allen. Ernie also lowered his head, but he also executed a half turn from Mistress Allen and gave Harry a quick, eye rolling, incredulous look that only Harry could see.

              “Why is there all this yelling?”

              John and Ernie both began speaking at the same time. She lifted her hand to halt Ernie and said to John, “why are you yelling? What could be so important to yell?”

              “Er, I was telling Ernie how wonderful it is to be a part of the ranch.”

              “I think he knows that, Master John. That‘s not a good enough reason.”

              “Yes Mistress Allen,” said John lolling his chin on his chest. “It’s just that he said he was here for a different reason, and I disagreed with it.”

              “Indeed, and what was his reason for living here?”

              Ernie waved his hand at the group. He waggled his jowls and he rolled his eyes.

              “John, er, Master John, sorry, was mad because I’ve met Dedalus and he hadn’t!”

              The murmuring began slowly through the small crowd. The gathered faithful were obviously also not as lucky as Ernie in meeting their idol. The murmur coursed through the group, building with emotion and anger at this perceived sleight, but, Mistress Allen halted the crescendo by holding up her hands.

              “Wait,” she said sharply, tersely, her glowering eyes focused on Ernie though her words were directed at John. “What does this have to do with yelling? Why are we so angry? That is not our way here in this place.”

              “Well, Ernie is here for a different reason than the one we’re all here for,” said John, pouting out his lower lip. “Ernie said he was not here for Dedalus, but only because it was convenient for him. I say his very motive for being here makes a mockery of all that we’ve gathered at the ranch for. His presence makes a mockery of the peace we’ve got going here,” said John, his voice gathering strength and emotion as they tumbled out of his mouth.

              Just then Liz came running around the corner. She was in a full out sprint, her hair billowing behind her like a thoroughbred’s tail. Her face was grim, her eyes were afire. Trailing behind her was her son, Robert, and the red-haired twins. Stout and squat, the twins struggled to keep up with the loping and lean Robert.

              Robert spied Harry and punched a finger in the air. “That’s him!” he cried. “That’s the man who said he was going to kick me!”       

              “Why you son of a bitch,” said the much shorter Liz. She ran up to Harry and pushed him in the stomach and then shook her fist at him. “How dare you talk to my son that way?!”

              Mistress Allen, John, Ernie and all the rest turned in Harry’s direction.

              “Whoa, lady,” said Harry, backing up to the fence and raising up his hands. “I was just having a little fun with the kids.”

              “Threatening boys is your idea of having fun?”

              “What’s this all about,” said Mistress Allen, her arms akimbo and her eyes narrowed and her jaw set.

              “Mistress Allen,” Liz said, tramping over to her on the porch, but still pointing a finger at Harry, ”My son was here saying hello to this man and his friends and this guy yelled at Robert and said he was going to hurt him if he did not leave.”

              “For God’s sake,” said Harry, now sitting on the rail fence and waving a hand at the group that began to edge closer to him. “The kid was being a jerk to us. He’s real nasty and I told him to get lost, that’s all.”

              “You shut up,” said Robert, shaking his fist at Harry.

              Harry shrugged his shoulders and splayed his hand at the boy. “You see,” he said, nodding his head at Robert. “End of story.”

              Mistress Allen eyed Robert, Harry and Liz.

              “Ethan. Julian,” she said, crooking a finger at the red haired twins, but without taking her eyes off Harry, “approach me.”

.             “Why?” cried out Ethan, suddenly panic-stricken. The twins were standing shoulder to shoulder and Ethan pulled at his brother and tried to hide behind him. Julian wheeled around to squirm out of his brother’s grasp and the two tumbled to the ground.

              “Get up,” said Mistress Allen in a clipped tone, her eyes fluttering, her mouth never losing its tight, clenched lines.

              “But why?” said the twins in unison, their whiny voices shrill and piercing.

              Mistress Allen abruptly turned, hopped off the porch and stomped over to the boys cowering in the dirt. Her eyes were now wide and menacing. Ethan started hyperventilating and Julian’s face turned as red as his hair. The twin’s father, who, like a few others from the ranch, had been slowly approaching the main house when he heard the commotion, now ran to his sons’ aid. Similarly red-haired, he cradled one of his son’s head in his arms. The other clung to his arm. He murmured a soft “okay” to the boys and stroked Ethan’s hair, but did not look up at Mistress Allen. “It’s okay Jules,” he said to his other son and the boy wiped snot and tears on his father’s shirt sleeve. “It’s okay,” said the father softly, “Mistress Allen isn’t going to hurt you.” The father gave a quick sideways glance at the glowering matron as if to appease his own angst.

              “You were there, weren’t you, with Robert? Who is telling the truth?”

              “You see son, she’s not angry,” said his father softly. “She just wants to know what happened.”

              This did not console the whimpering twins and they clawed at their father.

              “I want to go home,” cried Ethan.

              Ethan’s father sighed and hugged his son a bit tighter, but said nothing.

              Carlo had awakened and he had made his way around the group unnoticed and stood next to Harry. He tapped his friend on the shoulder.

              “Another day in paradise, huh,’ whispered Carlo in Harry’s ear. Harry jumped, then nearly convulsed as he angrily dressed down his friend.

              “What the hell is this place,” he rasped as he pulled at Carlo’s shirt sleeve.                            “Yeah, I guess you‘re right” said Carlo, his eyes as wide as Harry’s, but with a slight smirk. “This place is fucked up.”

              “Where the hell is Dedalus? These people are all keyed up and tense! What kind of help does he hire? Everyone seems ready to jump down each other’s throat!”

              “I don’t know man. This is crazy,” said Carlo. “I didn’t expect this at all,” he snickered behind his closed fist.

              “You said he was going to be here, waiting for us. Did you hear those two guys jawing at each other? They’ve never even met the guy. And, they wanted me to shovel out the barn!”

              Carlo giggled.

              “What the hell are you laughing about? This is all crazy. All of it!”

              “Yeah, so what’s your point?”

              Carlo was laughing aloud now. Liz broke away from the group gathered around the twins when she heard Carlo’s laughter and walked right up to the two men. Robert followed and stood next to his mom, his arms on his hips like his mom’s.

              Harry was grabbing at Carlo’s shoulder when Liz approached. Seeing her, he dropped his hands and took a step back. “Look lady,” he said, “I’m sorry your son got the wrong impression and all, but I didn’t mean any….”

              Liz showed Harry the palm of her hand and smiled at Carlo.

              “Hi,” she cooed, flashing a brilliant smile at Carlo.

              “Er,” said Carlo, “Hi? Look, we’re not here for trouble at all. I’m sorry too that, what’s his name, Robert, is angry…”

              “I’m not angry,” snapped Robert. “Don’t push it mister.”

              Harry and Carlo both winced.

              “Nice kid,” said Carlo and he went to pat the boy on the head.

              Robert feinted and slapped Carlo’s hand away. “Don’t touch me!”

              “Robert!” Liz grimaced and gave her son big eyes. “Sorry about that,” she said to Carlo who was rubbing his hand.

              “Hey, I guess that’s what I get for sticking my hand in the cage, as it were,” he said with a smile.

              Mistress Allen now walked straight away to Carlo and extended her hand to shake.

              “You’re the fellow from Paris? We heard about you.” Mistress Allen offered a limp wrist for Carlo to grab. “You are him, aren’t you?”

              “Yes,” Carlo said with a sideways nod, “by way of New Jersey.”

              Mistress Allen nodded her head and closed her eyes briefly.

              “Yes, it is you. Great. We heard you were coming. Well, you’re welcome here at the ranch, even if you‘re from New Jersey,” she said smiling. “Is this trouble maker a friend of yours?”

              “Hey,” said Carlo, “he’s more than a friend, he’s my blood brother. I grew up with this guy. He‘s okay.”

              Carlo reached for Harry and hugged him by the shoulder as Harry looked up at him with his mouth agape and his face screwed up in a puzzled grimace.

              “Well then, we’ll let you stay.”

              “Er, thank…”

              “Is Sean here?”

              “No, he left.”

              “Sean was the guy I told you about in Paris. You remember right?”

              “Oh…yeah,” Harry said, though he shook his head ‘no‘.

              “Gone, you say, for good?”

              “Yes, but he told us you would be here in time to help.”

              “I can only try,” said Carlo, flashing his own brilliant smile. “How about if we take a look around?”

              “I can show you,” said Liz quickly and she sidled up to Carlo and tried to take his arm, but Robert pushed his way in between the two.

              “Perhaps it would be better if Ernie showed you around,” said Allen. “What’s your name? Carlo? Right?”

              “Yes Ma’am, Carlo Breese.”

              “What kind of name is that,” she asked, allowing her hand to rest gently on Carlo’s wrist as she spoke.

              “Why,” said Carlo, affecting a twang, “I believe it’s an I-Talian name.”

              “I see,” she said, trailing her fingers along his arm as she now turned to Harry. Charley had awakened and had leaped off the porch and waded through the crowd to Harry’s side. She took his arm and asked him if everything is all right. She then whispered in his ear something not heard, but with an eye cocked towards the Mistress who was standing there half smiling. Harry rolled his eyes at Charley and at Mistress Allen.

              “Naw,” he said, as she pulled him away along the fence, “that’s not true?”

              “Sure it is,” she said in a hoarse whisper, “This here is one of them communes. I had heard something strange was going on up here. But, I didn’t think it was true.” Her eyes were intense and serious, though her lips were drawn up in a wry smile.

              “What? You mean they’re not ranch hands? Well I guess that explains a lot of things. Wait! Are they going to brainwash us,” said Harry. “I heard that’s what these cults do.”

              The Mistress walked up to the pair and looked up at them. Her level stare, her flat expression stopped them and their tittering ceased. Harry looked down at his feet, but Charley stared straight back at her, defiantly challenging her. Mistress Allen looked at Charley for a long time. She breathed through her nose, held the breath and fluttered her eyes before exhaling and speaking slowly and deliberately.

              “There’s nothing strange going on here,” she said in a quiet voice. “It’s all on the level and there’s no ‘cult’.” Her lips curled ever so slightly into a smile that looked like a dead, shriveled worm. “Why, we’re just a group of people living together for the common good.”

              Harry shifted his eyes around. He looked at the Mistress standing there with a smug look on her face. He looked at the people of the ranch slowly getting closer. He looked at Carlo, who had lighted a cigarette and was leaning absently against the rail fence. He looked at Charley who had begun to bite her lower lip as if to prevent any further words to escape her lips.

              Harry sighed as he now rubbed an eye and pulled at his sweaty face. He nodded his head, “Well, you have to admit that this is extreme or at least strange.” He rubbed the back of his neck again. “I mean this is all for some pop singer? I’m a fan, but this is fucked up.”

              “You think so?” Charley suddenly chirped, “I think it’s cool. Hey, do you guys sing his songs around a campfire and all,” she said to the Mistress, a big smirk on her face.

              Mistress Allen looked between Harry and Charley slowly. Her eyes were focused. She breathed slowly, her nostrils flaring a bit more.

              “It’s been awhile Apple June,” said Mistress Allen. “How are your parents?”

              Charley/Apple June gave Allen another big smirk and popped gum she was chewing, exposing the gum between her teeth. She then grabbed Harry by the arm and skipped away, pulling him along the rail fencing and deeper into the ranch. Mistress Allen and Carlo watched in silence as she yanked Harry along until they disappeared over a hillock. Mistress Allen sighed coarsely and then turned the Carlo.

              “Well…sorry you had to hear that,“ she said as she took Carlo by the arm and began leading him into the main house. “Apple June used to live here with her parents, but they moved away awhile ago. It‘s been a couple of years since they were here.”

              She paused in front of Ernie and John and gave them a slight nod and the two men suddenly became animated and began to tell the crowd to get back to their chores. The crowd murmured and started moving off in various directions. Ethan and Julian and their father walked toward the sleeping quarters together, the boys hugging their father by the waist tightly. The three of them struggled to walk a straight line.

              “I am actually surprised Apple June came back. People don’t usually return once they leave. Where did you meet her?”

              “Charley,“ said Carlo.

              “Huh?”

              “We know her as Charley.”

              Mistress Allen rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

              As they walked to the house he told her briefly about the Pecan Festival.

Allen confirmed Apple June’s story that Dedalus would sometimes appear at the festival unexpectedly, but that it’s been years since the last time.

              “I have to admit, she’s something else,” said Carlo. “She’s obviously a fan of the man, but when she gave us the directions here I was very impressed. She never said she lived here though.”

              When they reached the porch Liz called after them. She had Robert by the arm and yanked him into place.

              “Tell him,” she said roughly to her boy. “Tell him now!” She flashed a smile at Carlo then turned to grimace at the son. But Robert refused to say anything. He dug in his heels and pouted. Liz yanked on his arm again.

              “Tell him!” She whispered coarsely through clenched teeth and she yanked on his arm again. The boy’s head wagged in response to the violent action.

              “I’m sorry! Okay, I‘m sorry! Stop Mom!”

              Liz turned to Carlo and offered him a terse smile. Her eyes were imploring and she apologized as well. “Sorry mister,” she said, nervously nodding her head. One eye winced. “I’ll make sure Robert doesn’t bother you again.”

              Carlo disengaged his arm from the Mistress’ and stepped toward the boy.

Allen folded her arms beneath her breasts and nodded slightly, a satisfied thin smile on her face as she watched all this. Carlo looked at the boy a moment in silence. Robert looked up at Carlo with one eye closed. Without a word Carlo extended a hand to shake. The boy flinched at first, but did not slap at Carlo’s hand. He took it and they shook once. Carlo then got down on one knee and whispered something to the boy. Neither Liz nor Allen heard what was said. But, Robert gave Carlo a look that was puzzled at first, before a smile, rarely seen in the ranch, lit up the boy’s face like a sunrise. The boy extended his hand again and said, ‘okay’. He then ran off, pushing past his mother and the remnants of the crowd that had gathered earlier and disappeared around the corner of the main house.

              Liz was puzzled. She looked at Carlo and smiled a bit and then furrowed her brow.

              “What did you say?”

              But Carlo just closed his eyes a moment and sighed, but offered no explanation.

              “Never mind,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m wondering if I can get a drink? I’m kind of thirsty and then perhaps we can take a tour?”

              “Sure,” said Allen.

              Carlo turned to Liz.

              “Would you show me around later?”

              Liz’ bronzed face blushed. A hand graced her lower lips hiding her smile.