Chapter 29

“ ... no, it’s not true, Mark. I knew you would come and get me.”

What’s with Sandy? What a stupid expression. She’d better not be fuckin stoned or something.

“Don’t know ‘bout that. Anyway, ya understand what Sandy was sayin’?”

“I think so. She would be my legal parent, a guardian. But you will always be with me, right?”

Oh shit. Can’t lie to the kid. How to explain this shit?

“Matty, listen to me. For all I know some space aliens will spray me with a ray gun and vaporize me next week. I’ll be there as long as I can be with y’all ... Mister Martine, ya think the courts gonna go for this?”

“Of course. You are preserving the value of the estate for the beneficiary, and we have a candidate for legal guardian that is more than qualified.”

“Sandy’s qualified?”

“Yes. She is a credentialed teacher, is a senior executive of a respected corporation, has a stable and established home, and she is young and vital.”

I have more words for her tits than just ‘vital’ ... Ya know, this shit may work - if the kid’s happy, and Sandy’s happy, and Nyota’s happy, why the fuck not?

“Know how ya feel, dude. Place is full of females doing weird shit. Let’s make this walk extra long. Darcy, ya never told me what ya think ‘bout Matty?”

Looks like he’s thinking about it ... A single woof? Gonna guess that means it’s cool. I know what the problem is, he lost the attentions of Nyota. That furry brat has been all over the kid. What a traitor.

“Ya know, Darcy, ya just can’t depend on anyone these days ... Ya ever been up that hill? Let’s take a look.”

Wow, now that little valley meets the definition of ‘lush’. What’s with the large patch of darker green? What the fuck, someone is fucking around in that brush.

“Darcy, stay! ... Good boy ... I’ll be back shortly, dude.”

Damn, who are them scumbags? Some asshole is growing fucking weed on Hats’ property ... Wait, I know that dickhead. He’s that moron deputy. So, the local cops are in on this shit. Not on my watch...

“Mark! Oh my God! You’re bleeding ... Stay down, Mark ... Dammit, sit here. Now! ... Got to call 911.”

“Belay that last! Dianne, don’t call anyone yet. Call Jonathon and the colonel, then we’ll call 911. Got three on the deck, ‘bout two or three clicks northeast in a litte valley...”

“Mark? Shit. Mark, can you hear me? Stay with me...”

“ ... no problema, gunny. The morons didn’t get a good print off of me. I totally fucked up the card and the cops never noticed.”

“But the serial of your revolver can be traced to a Mark Watson.”

“Nah, Jonathon changed the registration to Jackson. So the two latino guys farming the marijuana, anyone know why the fuck they doin this shit on private property?”

“The CHP and BATF investigators said the location was apparently arranged by members of the sheriff’s department.”

“Not just a single guy on the take? Not good. Wish they’d stick to growing their shit in the national forests. Here comes that top cop. Pretend you’re innocent, gunny.”

“Fuck you, Watson.”

“Mister Jackson, I have read the initial interview conducted by the ATF. I have a few more questions. What is your position with the Hats family?”

“I’m the bus driver. I fly Mister Hats Cessna 340 for them. I’m also security for the Chief Operating Officer of Hats Industries.”

“That would be Miss Collins?

“Yep.”

“Did you recognize the three men that you confronted?”

“Like I told the ATF guy, they were facing away from me, standing in the middle of an acre or two of marijuana plants, so couldn’t see much of them until they turned around to start their weird shit. But no, I don’t know ‘em. Who are they?”

“Why were you walking to that particular location?”

What a dickhead. He’s not even gonna respond?

“Wasn’t walking to anywhere. Just happened onto the three assholes growing marijuana on Mister Hat’s property. I was walking the boss’s dog. Never been to that location before.”

“I see that you do not have a California driver’s license. Is Colorado your home state?”

“For residency based on tax purposes, probably, I dunno. Gonna have to ask some accountant dweeb to figure that shit out. Most of the last several years have been in Arizona and Colorado and Florida.”

“Do you have a passport?”

“Nope.”

Yeah, looks like he really wants to get enough to do a backgrounder on my dumb ass. Wait until this CHP clown sees that he has no good prints for me. Them johnny-laws gonna be madder than a wet hen.

“One more thing, Mister Jackson, what financial connections do you have with Hats Industries?”

“Are you serious? Those people got enough money to burn a wet mule. I’m not in their class. I’m an employee.”

Yeah, don’t let the door hit ya on the way out, dickhead.

“You handled that with your usual suave and sophisticated manner.”

“Yeah, whatever. Get me the fuck outa this place, guns. Is anyone with Sandy and the kid?”

“Dianne has secured Sandra and Matilda in the hard room.”

“Cool. Good idea. Ya gonna get me outa here or what? No reason to waste a hospital bed on me for a few stitches in my side ... Ya know what? Those assholes still got my gun. Shit. And what’s with the nurses in this joint? Why they all lookin’ at me like that? And why is all this shit connected up to me? What the fuck, guns?”

“Watson, you need to shut it and calm the fuck down. I am guessing you cannot remember. You collapsed after you had arrived at the east entrance. Dianne Santiago had been watching the security system and called in the troops and secured the Hats family members, along with their two aides.”

“I collapsed? Yeah, I remember, when the EMTs carried me away I was wondering who called them. Give Dianne a cookie for standing her post.”

“I am guessing that you do not know about your head wound. A bullet creased your port gunwale.”

“Yeah? Where? ... Ouch! Mother-fucker. That hurts ... Wait, now I remember, that’s why I plugged those two assholes next to the cop. I couldn’t tell which one was shooting at me, so they both got a fatal dose. That dumbshit cop had a really big case of the panics, otherwise I’d be burnt toast.”

“That leg shot you did on the deputy was intentional?”

“Sorta. Aimed low. A thought flashed that if I plugged the cop, I’d be in deep, deep doggy-doo-doo ... So the CHP or somebody gonna clean the local cop house?”

“Let’s just say that the U.S. Justice Department has provided incentive to do so.”

“Yeah? Good ol’ Special Agent Johnson comes to the rescue again ... Shit, what about Darcy? Get me a phone! Need to tell Dianne that he’s out there...”

“Shut the fuck up, asshole. The dog is in the hard room. Do you know that that huge thing would not allow the paramedics to come near you? Santiago had to get the idiot away from you.”

“I’ll be damned. Poor guy was probably stressed over this weird shit. So this shit with my brain-housing group, that why I’m still here?”

“Probably. They said something about waiting for the neurologist to look at your shit.”

“Uh, how long ya been here, guns?”

“About nine hours.”

“Yeah? What’s the tick-tock say?”

“Twenty thirty, local.”

“That sucks, go back to the palace and hit the rack. Fuck this shit.”

“I will not go anywhere until Joe Barts arrives.”

“Say what? Don’t pull Joe into this shit.”

“Santiago called him. You have no choice in the matter, he insisted on flying in. I will leave upon his arrival.”

“Shit. So ya wanna play some poker?”

“Hey Joe. Ya didn’t have to come down here. How’s Jackie?”

“She is good, a bit worried about your stupid ass, but she’s okay ... Dude, I finally found Tim.”

“Yeah? About time he showed his ugly mug. So what’s his status? He still all butt-hurt over that bitch? Dunno why, she had no tits, no ass, and probably never sucked his cock. So where is Tim?”

“Upon getting his retirement papers, he took an IT support job with some place in Memphis. He said you would know the place.”

“Know the place? Dunno what he’s ... Shit, gonna guess he’s been working at that fucking law firm. Baker something ... yeah, Baker Donelson, or something like that.”

“How did he know lawyers?”

“During B-school at Millington, just before you got there, they tried to subpoena him because he pulled some asshole out of a flaming wreck; his reward for being a hero. Did ya know he actually slammed their lawyer into the bulkhead, right fucking front and center, in the MATSS XO’s office, with the first shirt standing there? Fucking priceless, man.”

“Guess that’s one way to get hired. Anyway, he had asked for time off to come see your stupid ass. His boss said no, so he quit, and wait for it, Tim bailed right in the middle of the company’s changeover from mainframes to PC-based servers. That boy sure does like to burn his bridges.”

“Ya know his number?”

“Yes, it’s on my phone.”

“Give me your phone, Joe. Gotta make a call.”

“Sandy? ... Whoa, there lady. Calm your tits. I’m doing okay ... Yeah, I know. Darcy okay? ... good. I got something real important. I want ya to book a first-class for a Timothy Barringer from Memphis to here, one-fucking-way ... Yeah, I got his number ... Okay, put the kid on ... Nah, just minor stuff, Matty ... Nah, the gunny is full of shit. I’m okay. Need ya to keep Nyota and Darcy company, okay? ... good, give the phone back to Sandy ... Yah gonna do that? Good ... No, do whatever Dianne says to do. Understand? Just do it, period ... Good girl. Bye.”

“That was interesting. You going to tell me how you found this stray?”

“Stray?”

“The kid with Sandra Collins.”

“Ya met Sandy? Good. She’s a good egg. A bit strange at times, but she’s generally good to go. As for the kid, she hung around the place I was working at in Colorado. For whatever dumbshit reason, her mother re-wrote her will to name me as executor and said I should be the kid’s guardian. Mommy croaked, so here we are.”

What the fuck is he laughing at? Yeah, it is funny. Me being a parent is really out there in twilight-zone land. Whatever.

“You a daddy, Mark? Way too much. So Sandra stepped into the responsibility?”

“Since Sandy was the only adult in the room, my lawyer set it up for her to get the kid. Matty is not the usual kid. She has a sharp edge, man. The kid is easy to like and hang with, but have been thinkin that I need to limit my time around her.”

“Maybe so. Which proves that you are not a total fuck-up, after all.”

“Fuck you. I see that you’re carrying a Glock. Dude, you do know that some counties in this state have strict laws for that?”

“Got a CCW from the Orange County Sheriff about eleven or twelve years back.”

“What for?”

“My crazy ex was following me around. She got busted once trying to get into El Toro.”

“Nobody told me that. And everyone says guys are the assholes and have the most crazy. At least I admit that I’m an asshole.”

“True, but you shouldn’t be so fucking proud of it.”

“The Humboldt County CWS is visiting next week.”

“County what?”

“Child Welfare Services. They want to check up on Matty.”

“Bullshit. They’re a bunch of peons, county bureaucrats looking for an in to your palace. Your father told me that the county has always been nosy about this place. Fuck ‘em ... Which reminds me, what are the old folks doing these days, other than dodging hurricanes?”

“Dad found a place outside of Atlanta. They hope to move before winter.”

“Yeah? That’s cool. They need help moving? Joe, Tim, and me can help.”

“Certainly not. Two reasons. One, you are not supposed to be doing anything strenuous. Two, it is sweet of you to offer, but somehow, I do not think that dad and mom will be doing much ‘moving’ themselves. Billy is right, you will never learn to accept our wealth. Which really does not matter to me; I think it is cute.”

Cute? Whatever. But that’s an interesting classification. So is Sandy cute or hot? That shit is too subjective, nothing like that is deterministic. Maybe she’s both?

“I tell what’s cute, lady. Them blue eyes. And them flute lips...”

“I’m gonna puke my guts out. Swapping spit again? You guys are always sucking face.”

“Now that is what I worry about, Mark.”

“That? Matty is just stating the obvious. So what?”

“She cusses like a sailor, and talks like you and Joseph.”

“Nah, she cusses like a Marine. And she talks like Matty Edison. So what’s the big fuckin’ deal?”

“Just that, Mark. You cannot say two sentences without cussing. And she thinks that is a normal way to talk. We cannot be like this in front of the county CWS people.”

“Them fuckers ain’t gonna do shit. Get her set up for testing. Ya up for that shit, Matty?”

“Whatever. I’ll play their stupid games.”

“See what I mean, Mark? She sounds just like you.”

“Whatever. Look, we have the local school dweebs test her, then they find out that she’s probably two or three grades ahead, then they can fuck off. Ya got the big bucks, lady. Send the kid to some high-class private school.”

“Other than the Catholic secondary school, there are no decent private schools in this area that I consider suitable for her. And I would not send her to a parochial school.”

“Shit, I dunno. What about the public schools?”

“You forget that I have taught in the local school district. I will not send her to one of those schools.”

“One of those schools? For such a hot woman, you sure do sound all snooty. The kid will do okay where ever the fuck ya send her. Matty has her shit together.”

“I’m right here, Mark. But, hey, you people feel free to talk about me in the third person.”

“Shit, that sounded more like you, Sandy. So what ya wanna do?”

“We will home-school Matty. You and me.”

“As for you schoolin’ her, good choice. As for me schoolin’ her, bad choice. Ain’t qualified to teach the kid shit anyway.”

“To paraphrase the only male in the room, You are quite full of it, Mark. You already taught Matty basic electrical stuff. You enabled her to go directly into high school algebra while at that Colorado middle school. And she continues to learn basic physics and programming from yourself and Timothy.”

“I ain’t the only male in the room. Darcy may have something to say ‘bout that ... She didn’t mean it, Darcy. You’re a cool duder...”

“Mark! Stop it. You are evading.”

“Evade this.”

“Mark!”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll help the kid with the math and sciency stuff. But no formal curricula shit, it takes the fun right outa it. So what ya want me to do? Tie the kid to a desk for three or four hours a day so you can torture her with poetry and the history of the third queen of England?”

“Mark, do not be so mean...”

“Ya know what, Matty? We can study and experiment with the physics of surfing for the rest of the summer. That should be good for a few school credits.”

“Oh, geez. Mark if you insist on this I will...”

“I’ll tell ya what we will do. We will give Matty a basis for living a decent life in the real world, not any theoretical socio-psycho-babble crap. Sound good, Matty?”

“I guess. Sandy?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Is this gonna cause arguments with you and Mark? You’re not mad at him?”

“No. Certainly not, dear; I love Mark, we both need him, and Mark and myself will always be here for you.”

Whoa there, lady. Keep those tits in check. There ain’t nothing forever. Actually, the idea ain’t that bad, at least in theory.

“So who will install this shit?”

“You will. You’re the IT dweeb. And I don’t know shit ‘bout Mickysoft server stuff anyway.”

“It would not kill you to learn Windows internals, dude.”

“Maybe, just don’t have the time, Tim. At least not anymore. So how’s Matty doing?”

“Not that this isn’t a redundant proclamation, but you’re an asshole.”

“What I do this time?”

“Her attitude towards Microsoft products. Every fucking time I explain something, her first comment is, ‘but that is not how Unix does that’, or something similar.”

“Yeah? That’s sorta cool. Gotta like the kid’s attitude. But I can’t take all the credit. Matty’s an independent thinker. She don’t take shit and questions everything.”

“I will agree with that. So you going to explain the theory behind your systems to me?”

“Ya really wanna know? It’s a bit heavy on the theory, which you didn’t get in your IS degree.”

“So fucking amuse me, Mark. What is this subject matter that is so ‘heavy’?”

“Correlation, signal averaging, and probability analysis.”

“Fucking engineers. Okay, go for it. I’ll hang.”

“ ... and if we take these waveforms, we can use the correlation, which is a method of time-domain analysis. It’s used, at least for my shit here, for detecting periodic signals that are buried down in the noise dirt. We establish coherence between random signals, which determines signal sources and respective transmission times...”

“ ... so if the time shift is nada, then we have the same shit as before, that is, the waveforms would be in phase and the final sum of the products is big. If the time shift is made large, the waveforms look different, and having no apparent connection, the final sum is small.”

“Okay, I get this shit, sort of, but what do these graphs come from? You said that this is the final resultant that is used for the detection. Still do not see how you get from the sum of the waveforms to this.”

“Ah, yes, grasshopper, now comes the ‘autocorrelation’. This shit is tits. we can find the average product for the time shifts. We just divide the final sums by the number of products. Then we make an array where the average products are a function of time shift. If we plot it, we’ll see a positive max at time zero, diminish to zero as time increases. The peak at time zero is the mean square value of the waveform. And a plot of this shit is the autocorrelation function of the wave form.”

“So the autocorrelation function of a waveform is a graph of the similarity between the waveform and a time-shifted version of itself, which is a function of the time shift.”

“Bingo! Give the man a cookie.”

“I would rather have a beer, or two, or three. You are fucking with my mind, dude. Uh, one thing that crossed my mind, Mark. Why the hell can’t you just do this in analog? This DSP stuff must be a shit-ton of code.”

“Ya think so? Look to your port side there, jarhead. Ya see that box?”