Sheriff Porter 126
I walked across the street with Wilson in tow. “So guys, I’m back to see how you are doing without me?” I asked.
“Hi Sylvia, want to help us pack a few knock up kits?” the oldest of them asked.
“Sure Wilson here will help too,” I said. I began assembling the boxes and Wilson packed the kits and put them into the packing. When we had all 14 kits in the boxes, I glued the shipping labels onto the boxes. The postman would be by for them the next day.
“So since you aren’t talking much, are you all talked out from the film crew?” I asked.
“Yep they are wearing me out,” he said and smiled.
“If the TV cameras would get out of our face, we would be doing better,” The grumpiest of the old men said. He was the one using the large slow moving band saw to cut out the rough form of the toys. After he had cut the basic form of a tiny rocking horse, the kinder, gentler one, put in a display case for after the child had outgrown it. Then the horse moved to a sander. The operator of the sander was the old man’s official wood carver. He could quickly add a few details to the rocker with a gouge. Each one was a little different.
“Hey y’all voted to take the offer,” I couldn’t help laughing. “So is Mel helping out any?”
“She was at first, now they mostly have her walking around in shorts. Something about eye appeal. They act like we ain’t appealing enough,” the original old man complained.
“How dare they,” I said with a laugh.
“That’s what I said,” he replied laughing as well.
“Could I speak with you Ms. Porter?” the woman I presumed to be Lois asked.
“Let’s take it outside,” I suggested.
When we got out to the parking lot she began. “You know who you are. You could guarantee the success of your friends show, if you did a walk on,” Lois said.
“Sorry Lois, I have no interest in the show. If it works out and they get rich, that would be great for their families. Personally, I think they would do just fine without the money and fame,” I said.
“What do you think it would take for you to do a walk on?” she asked.
“There is nothing you have that I want,” I said.
“How about if we do an episode about your effort to preserve the town. We might could get you some publicity,” she said.
“You will have to take that up with the people who are involved. I’m just the landlord,” I said.
“We both know that isn’t true,” she said.
“Wilson tells me you did some research on me?” She started to object but I held my hand up. “I just want you to know, I’m not as bad as they say. I’m ten times fucking worse. Now I have told you in the nicest way I can. If you have any brains at all you will take no for an answer,” I informed her.
I walked away from her, then called the Rum Runner Hotel. “Hi there this is Sylvia Porter. I would like to reserve an ocean view room on the fifth floor for the weekend.”
“Very well Ms Porter could I have your credit card number,” the female clerk asked.
“I would rather not give that information out over the phone. If you have the room, and can hold it for thirty minutes, I will drive down and let you swipe the card,” I suggested.
“Of course, I had no idea you were calling locally. Do you want the room for tonight?” she asked.
“No starting on Friday night running till Sunday morning,” I said. She had thought I was a tourist in town looking for a place to stay. I wasn’t all that well known in town. That was the way I liked it.
“Come on Wilson we have to ride out to the Rum Runner,” I called inside to him.
We were right across the bay from the Rum Runner so it only took a few minutes to complete the chore. After I gave the young blond clerk my debit card, she said, “Thank you Ms Porter I hope you enjoy your stay.”
“The room isn’t for me. It is for an old friend, so I do hope he enjoys his stay,” I replied.
I didn’t mean for it to sound white trashy, but I guess it did because she removed a card from the holder on the desk. Then wrote a number on it. “That’s my cell number, if they need anything at all, just call me. I can be reached 24/7 at that number.” It was obvious that she was all business and I appreciated it.
“That is excellent,” I said putting the card in my pocket. I meant to throw it away, just as soon I was out of her site. I have no idea why I didn’t. Instead I just put it loose into my rear pocket.
“So Wilson should we stop for burgers on the way home?” I asked remembering that Mel was cooking for us. I expected more garden trimmings.
“Come on boss give her a chance at least,” he said.
“Okay let’s go home it’s almost five,” I said. After we got home Mel started to cook so that the food would be hot.
“I invited EZ over for dinner,” she said.
“Why the hell did you do that,” I asked. Not angrily just curious.
“He called for you on the office phone, and he had the cooker I needed. He dropped it off and went to pick up a boat. I have no idea what that is about,” she said.
“I imagine you will see,” I said. The cooker wasn’t on wheels it sat up on concrete blocks. Once it cooled we could take it down and move it somewhere else.
I took the laptop and my phone over to the barge and my bedroom. I made some inquires while I waited for dinner. I book marked a few pages then plugged it in to get the battery at max charge before the next sunrise. There was a little room left under the bicycle frame for storage. It would be enough for the laptop.
“Hey Silvia time for dinner,” Wilson called up to me a half hour later. There were people standing around waiting for dinner. Mel had invited everyone on the dock to dinner. I didn’t mind, especially when I saw what she had cooked.
“Mel that’s interesting,” I said looking at the charcoal cooker covered with hot dogs. They were not your full sized hot dogs. They were half sized. She was serving them on a skewer. There was also a table with five different dipping sauces for the hot dogs. She had a huge plate of home made potato chips. I honestly enjoyed the meal. I found each of the dipping sauces to be delicious. One of them was hot as hell, and one was a mild chili flavor, the third was a tomato and pickle relish sauce, almost a salsa without the heat.
There were also warm sourdough rolls from the bakery to cut in half for the hot dogs for those of us so inclined. I had a mouth full when Mel walked up to me. “So what do you think?” she asked.
“I think they are absolutely delicious. The dipping sauce is an excellent idea. It works both with and without the bun,” I said.
“I’m thinking a buffet with the sauces and maybe soup and a salad, but with the center being a grill with a chef cooking two or three types of hot dogs. Kind of like a Japanese grill,” Mel suggested. “We can even do a generous take out menu.”
“Sounds good, it is going to be a couple of months at least before we can open, so get a grill like this. We will do a test of the food once a week till we open. We can do it right here, so we will know what is what,” I suggested.
“I love that idea. These were just grocery store wieners. I bet I can find a gourmet wiener somewhere,” Mel said.
“I bet you can get some frozen or smoked to preserve them and bring them from everywhere. It would be nice to have at least a couple of types of sausages and different sauces based on other cultures. But we never forget the basic American dog. You can work all that out.”
That is how we began having hot dogs twice a week at the barge. They were always grilled and they were always good. How could anyone fuck up a hot dog, I thought.
EZ showed up in a boat about the same time the guy who usually drove for Brian showed up with a pickup and trailer. They both stayed for dinner. We gave everyone a questionnaire. It had only two questions. Would you buy it and if so how much would you pay?
All but one said they would buy it, the prices went from two bucks to ten bucks. I knew two bucks wouldn’t cover the cost and ten would scare people away. I figured one trip through the hot dog buffet for five bucks, would sound good. The drinks would have to be extra of course. After I beat EZ off with a rubber hose, he and his partner left pulling the boat.
Before he left I asked, “I need to borrow or buy your cooker. I only need it for a couple of months.”
“Sure, I’m not planning to use it. I got it in a rent house I emptied for the owner. You can just have it if you want,” he offered. “It’s just an old 55 gallon drum with a grate on top. It probably is worth a hundred bucks max.”
“If you want it back then it’s a loan, if you have no use for it, here’s fifty bucks,” I said holding the bills out to him.
“Just keep it till you don’t want it any more, then call me I’ll come get it,” he said.
“Fair enough,” I replied returning the bills to the wad in my jean’s pocket. We really seemed to be getting along much better. He had finally stopped trying his desperate attempts to get me into bed. It was almost sad. I laughed when I thought of it that way.
By the time we got everyone out of the parking lot it was 10 PM. Wilson and I made sure the still hot cooker was blocked off so no one accidentally wandered into it. I finally got into bed after midnight. I was again forced to listen to Mel moan. Well, I don’t guess moans have a gender, so maybe it was Wilson. More likely it was a mixture of both.
Surely Wilson knew I could hear them. Of course that could be the plan, since he had been with me before. I know he claimed not to remember the storm night, but I had my doubts.
The next thing I remember after I masturbated to the sound of Mel screaming “Oh baby yes like that” was the sky starting to lighten at 6 AM. I was up and out the door ten minutes later wearing a clean sweat suit.
The ride out to the airstrip was just normal. I arrived worn out and probably stinky as hell just like always. It was a beautiful day, so I removed the Plexiglass type windows and flew the plane as an open cockpit aircraft. I just flew around in big circles checking out the traffic both car and boat types. I was low enough and slow enough to see the deer and fox running through the swamps. I even saw a black bear loping down a dirt road. I really wanted to go to the swamp and see Dog. But I landed back home instead. The landing was a bit rough but like they say anyone you walk away from was a good one.
Edited by Walt