“Lucky guess?” Shelby said. He was embarrassed again. It wasn’t nice to point out people’s disabilities. He hoped that the nice bailiff didn’t think the less of him.
“The coffee shop is that way.” The bailiff pointed. “about three blocks. Be careful crossing the streets. I wouldn’t want to have to give you a ticket for jaywalking.”
“Yes mother” Shelby “I tell you what.” the bailiff said “I’ll call my senior husband. He’ll meet you in the coffee shop down the street.”
“Um...ok.” Shelby said. “Coffee shop? You mean I have to go inside a strange building....and be with people?”
“Yes. You can do it. Just be calm. I know the owner and I’ll text him. He’ll be expecting you. He’ll give you a place to sit by yourself. My husband should be there soon.” He said.
“Your husband?” Shelby repeated. “How will I recognize him?”
“Oh you’ll recognize him all right.” The bailiff said with a laugh. “He’s as big as a bear, has a bushy white beard, kind of like yours as a matter of fact, and he’s black as midnight.”
“Oh…” Shelby said. He remembered Sam.
“Does he have a wooden leg?” he asked.
The bailiff looked at Shelby in astonishment. “How in the world did you know that?”
said automatically...then a look of panic crossed his face.
“Oh...I mean. I didn’t…”
The bailiff looked at Shelby and smiled. “Go on. Get outa here. Get.”
The bailiff went back inside. Shelby began walking toward the cafe.
By God it WAS Sam.
“I thought I done told you to be careful, Boy!” Sam said. He spit out a chaw and stumped across the room to Shelby. Shelby was sitting by himself in a corner, back to the wall. A waiter followed Sam with a tray stacked full of hamburgers, french fries and coffee.
“Eat up boy...then we have to talk.” Sam said as the waiter set the food on the table in front of a startled Shelby.
“Um...ok. Thanks.” Shelby dug in. He WAS a little bit hungry.
“One of my husbands told me all about your little escapade.” Sam said around a bite of hamburger.
“Can’t let you out in public any more can I?” he stated.
“Um....” Shelby said. “I don’t know what happened”.
“Another of my husbands at the precinct showed me pictures.” Sam told him. “He said that a call came in to the station house about three AM one morning. Of all things it was a gangbanger calling for help on his cell phone. A squad car was dispatched but they arrived too late. You’d already broke both of that ‘banger’s arms and one of his legs. None of the rest of his buddies were in any better shape..”
“I did?” Shelby asked. He wasn’t speaking much. He was eating. Sam could carry the conversation for both of them and Shelby WAS hungry.
“Heh...yeah you did.” Sam said.” The officer on the scene was scared half to death of you. ‘It looked like there were dead bodies everywhere’ he said later. He almost shot you. He would have if you’d had a weapon. He said that you were just standing quietly with your hands by your side. ”
“He said you followed his instructions just fine. You didn’t resist a bit when his partner put the cuffs on you. Good thing too. He would have probably shot you if you had.”
“And later on? When you were in the cell with Bubba? That was precious. Bubba would be singing soprano for a while, IF he could talk. He can’t. It’ll take a while for his throat to heal. If it does he’ll be VERY careful where he tries to put his ding-dong. The Judge about busted a gut laughing when she heard about THAT!” Sam was also laughing.
“I don’t remember none of that.” Shelby said. “when I don’t have any booze I have bad dreams.”
“Oh. Is that how it is.” Sam asked, all levity had vanished “What exactly did you do in Viet Nam? What happened to you? I was in the SandBox.” he said thumping his wooden leg.
“I don’t know.” Shelby said. “I can’t remember. Lots of things. Hills, trails, temples. Bad things happened. I remember explosions and blood. Lots and lots of blood. I think.”
“I reckon.” Sam looked sorrowful. He’d had experience with hills, trails and explosions himself. He’d even been in a firefight near a temple once in the SandBox. Sam had also seen lots of blood. “I can help a little bit more. I can get you some booze. I can even give you a ride. I’m sorry to say that’s about all I can do. I can’t even tell you why. It’s personal.”
“Oh that’s Ok.” Shelby said. He was embarrassed to be even getting a free meal. “I understand.”
“Do you have anywhere at all to go?” Sam persisted.
“I dunno.” Shelby thought.”Except….maybe...”
Sam cocked an eyebrow as he looked at Shelby closer. He leaned forward for a better look. “What’s that around your neck?”
Shelby pulled the chain out from under his T-shirt. “My dog tags.”
“What else is on that chain beside your Dog Tags?” Sam said “I’ve seen that before in the last few years. I always wondered what it was”.
Shelby just sit there blinking...confused. He didn’t think about fishing during the week. The thing on his dog-tags wasn’t something he thought about during the week. It was for weekends. This wasn’t according to schedule.
“May I see it?” Sam asked, holding out his hand to Shelby.
Shelby detached the item in question from his dog-tag chain and handed it to Sam. Sam looked at it closely.
“It’s a key. A key to what? There’s a name on here...lesseeeee.” Sam squinted while he examined it closely.
“That’s the key to my storage unit on the lake. I go to the lake on weekends. It’s according to schedule” he said.
“ I can't’ quite make out the address. Do you remember it?” Sam asked Shelby
“Uh..no.” Shelby said “I just show that to the bus driver. He can read it. He tells me what stop to get off at.”
” I see. HEY LESLIE.” Sam raised his voice and waved at one of the waitresses. “Can you come over here for a minute dear?”
Leslie swished over to Sam and Shelby’s table. Shelby had never seen a waitress with a beard before, or hairy arms...or hairy legs. He wore a short skirt, high heels and a low cut blouse showing a lot of hairy chest. If he wanted to dress like a girl Shelby supposed it was his right, a little odd perhaps but Shelby didn’t feel that he could judge.
“Sure...what can I do for you, honey?” Leslie said to Sam
“Read this for me will you? I can’t quite make it out. The writing is too damn small. My eyes are getting old.” He asked.
“Certainly honey.” Leslie said then read it out loud to Sam.
“Thank you Leslie” Sam said in a tone of dismissal. Leslie seemed a little disappointed but smiled and swished away.
Sam said. “I know where it is. Can I take you there?”
“That’s not according to schedule.” Shelby said.”Boating is a weekend thing. Is today a weekend?”
“Actually it is.“ Sam said. He was puzzled. Why should the day of the week matter? “It’s Friday afternoon. You’ve been in the hoosegow for a few days.”
“Oh… it’s ok then. This is a weekend so it’s ok. “ Shelby was relieved. He was going to be back on schedule.
“Sleeping under bridges didn’t turn out too well.” Shelby replied “ This is the weekend. I suppose I can go then. We can go there.”
Sam thought Shelby was crazy….good guess! He grinned. “My car’s outside. You order whatever you want for take out. My treat. I’ll be right back. Leslie?”
Leslie swished over again. “Yesssss?” he said rather eagerly.
“I’ll be gone for a few minutes. You leave him alone you hear?” Sam scolded Leslie. “If you bother him I’ll stomp your ass!”
“Threaten ME with a good time?” Leslie batted his eyes at Sam. “You’re no fun. Ok...I won’t bother him.”
“Don’t let anyone else bother him either.” Sam said “You won’t like him if he gets riled. No one will. Talk to Bubba some time for intimate details. I’ll be right back.”
Leslie’s eyes widened as he looked at Shelby and appraised him in a new light. Leslie knew a Bubba.
True to his word Sam was only gone for a little while. He got back just as Shelby’s order was being brought to his table.
“Put it on my tab.” Sam told Leslie. “Come on Boy. If we hurry we can get outa town before traffic gets heavy.”
Shelby followed Sam out to his beater. “Stick all that stuff in the back seat” Sam said speaking of the food.
Shelby did that. There was room. Barely. The back seat was piled high with cases of…booze. He noticed that it was pure grain alcohol for the most part. Good. More bang for the buck.
Sam drove his old beater into the yard of storage place on the lake. There were several older buildings on the property complete with boat storage, RV parking and even a Semi Tractor or two. Each building contained a number of boat storage units. Shelby's key fit one of them. Sam parked in front of it.
“Is this it boy?” Sam asked.
“Yeah...ah think it iz” Shelby mumbled. He tried his key. The door opened. “yup..this izit”
“ I guess it is. Let’s get this stuff inside. I’ll help you. ” Sam told him as he started carrying cases of booze inside. Sam had bought a LOT of cases.
The buildings had clerestory windows. It was gloomy inside but not dark. Shelby helped Sam move his stuff inside. There was plenty of room. The unit only contained a small boat and a few boxes.
It didn’t take long to complete the task.
“Good luck to you boy.” Sam shook his hand then got into his beater and drove away. Shelby watched him leave. When Sam was out of sight Shelby turned and entered the building. He shut the door behind him then turned around and stared…and remembered.
During the war he was mostly told to kill. That was fine. Shelby was a natural born killer. He did well. He was sent to a variety of ’advanced training’ courses and improved on his skill-set. He became a veritable killing machine, and then he became even better.
Then the statue fragments penetrated his brain and ended his military career.
He barely survived. He spent years in VA hospitals. Eventually the time came when he was healed well enough to rejoin civilian life. A nice VA lady took care of him. She handled all the paperwork, and the phone calls. She found him a job, a place to stay and enrolled him in therapy. Part of the therapy was to build a boat using only hand tools. It took a lot of time to build a boat that way but that was a feature, not a bug. Building the boat eased his mind.
It took him over a year to complete his boat. When it was finished he had another set of skills and a beautiful skin on frame boat. He could use the canoe for camping and fishing. Fishing was supposed to calm him down, and soothe his mind even more.
It worked.
When he finished the therapy he’d rented a storage unit on the lake. He stored his boat and gear during the week while he worked at the factory. On weekdays holidays, and his two week vacation, he kept his bicycle in the storage unit while he hunted, fished and camped on the lake and in the swamp . That was his schedule. That had been when he was on a schedule. His schedule had been broken. He’d been off schedule all week. He might never get back on schedule. It was wearing him down. He couldn’t focus. He was thinking new thoughts. He hadn’t had any new thoughts in almost two decades.
Long lost memories were picking themselves up, dusting themselves off, and clamoring for Shelby’s attention. It was unnerving. Shelby opened a case of booze, took out a bottle and started drinking. He sat on the deck of his small boat.
He never noticed the snake. It had crawled thru a hole under the wall into his storage unit. It was curled up under the boat. It wasn’t bothering anyone or anything. The big OLD snake was molting and had scales over it’s eyes, couldn’t see too well and just wanted to be left alone while it shed last years skin. When Shelby rocked the boat the snake had been startled, struck blindly, and bit Shelby good. Shelby gasped, lost his balance, and fell back into the boat. He was helpless.
The snake bit him again, and again before Shelby’s two decade old jungle training kicked in. His hand snapped out, fast as lightning, and grabbed the snake by the tail. Shelby cracked the whip with the snake. He popped it’s head against a gunwale. The snake’s spine snapped. It’s skull was crushed. Shelby passed out. The snake dropped onto the dirt floor and continued to twist and squirm and wiggle..but it was dead.
Shelby was out like a light..lying in his boat. That snake had got him good, several times in many places. He’d been injected with a lot of venom.
Shelby dreamed.