Chapter 3

cabin tents rented for $25 a day
trailer rentals: larger $75 mid size $60 small $50
John Boyd 28yrs old
Gabby Boyd 25 yrs old.
Alice Boyd current owner of the Gatehouse
Edwardo world famous catfish chef (according to mom)
Joy and Jen wait staff for Alice Boyd’s catering
Jasper Amos hunter, guide, knife make
Sylvia Amos sheriff’s detective lieutenant
deputy Angie Davenport
Marion davenport Angyie’s mom
Clyde Summers suicide victim
Edward Gaines suicide victim while serving time with John

The deputies gave us the news, we could all go home. The lone female deputy told me. I almost went to the manager to ask,, if I could get my cherry cheese cake to go. I didn’t only because they didn’t ask us to pay our check.

“Gabby why don’t you come home with me? You could spend the night and leave from here in you own car tomorrow,” Mom said.

“You should do that Gabby. Neither of you should be alone,” I suggested.

“How about you? Are you going to be alright,?” Gabby asked me.

“Sure, I need to keep an eye on Keith’s plantation,” I said.

“God I miss Keith. He would have known just what to do,” Mom said.

“Mom, Keith couldn’t have done any more than John did,” Gabby said in my defense.

“Well it’s over for tonight. Tomorrow there will be more questions, count on it,” I said.

“They know where to find you and me John. How about you Gabby? You were planning to leave tomorrow.” mom said. “Since there is nothing any of us can do to help the police. I guess you could leave.”

“They may not see it that way Mom. If I were you Gabby, I would at least tell Sylvia I was going,” I suggested.

“Oh, Sylvia is it,” Gabby said with a laugh.

“She was Keith’s friend,” I said I didn’t want her to get any ideas.

“I saw the way that young deputy with the wide ass looked at you. I guess you are more like Keith than anyone knew,” Gabby said with a grin. She was still smiling as they wheeled the body past her.

“Not that much like him,” I said without the smile.

“What is her name,” Gabby asked.

“Hell, I don’t know,” I said.

“Angie Davenport,” mom injected. “She is Marion Davenport’s daughter. She is too young for John.”

“Mom John is only twenty eight. He is not too old for her,” Gabby said. “She has to be at least twenty one. Why don’t I know her.”

“You were away in college when her family moved here. They go to our church. It is how I know her family,” Mom said.

“Mom you need to give Angie Johns number. He won’t call her. He is shy around cops,” Gabby said.

“If she want’s to find me, It will be easy enough for her,” I said. “I’m sure she has access to the parolee list in the county. It should take ten minute to locate my address and phone number.”

“Well I’ll bet you a hundred bucks she shows up this week,” Gabby said.

“I don’t gamble. Even if I did, I can’t afford those stakes,” I explained.

“You just know you would lose,” she said. “So make it five bucks.”

“All right, are you going to stay?” I asked.

“Not bloody likely. I’ll make sure your friend Sylvia has my address and phone number,” Gabby said.

“I’m going home and to bed. Call me before you leave town,” I said.

“What town, you live in the country,” Gabby said. “I live in a town.”

“Take away the Air Force guys, the tourist and you would live in a ghost town,” I said.

“Fortunately nobody is going to take those people away,” Gabby said with a smile. “I’ll be by for my things in the morning.”

“I might not be there. I’m still fishing,” I said.

“We also have a company award dinner tomorrow night,” Mom said.

“I’ll have the three dozen fillet’s ready for you,” I said.

Since I wasn’t pretending to be a catfish cook, I would have plenty of time to get everything ready. I went home from after the restaurant. I took a quick look around the campground upon my arrival, then went right to my little house. I watched a late night talk show then went to bed.

The next day was the same as most of my days were. They had all been the same since I returned home. Well what I returned to was sort of home. The first thing that stood out about that Monday was Gabby’s late morning visit to pick up her things. I was home at the time because I had finished my morning’s ‘drag of the line’.

I was skinning catfish when I stopped to watch her load up her BMW sports edition. I watched her drive away secretly glad she had gone. Mom was about all the family I could stand having around.

Later on in the afternoon I packed the cooler for Mom’s awards banquet catfish fry. I was about to leave to deliver the cooler when the Sheriff’s detective car showed up. The reason I recognized it as a cop car was Sylvia Amos was behind the wheel.

“Sorry Sylvia, I’m getting ready to make a delivery,” I said.

“Oh who do you sell to?” she asked.

“I don’t sell, I fish for mom’s catering business. It’s a family thing,” I said.

“Well I guess you don’t need a license for that,” Sylvia said.

“I have no idea to tell the truth,” I admitted. “If you want you can ride along and ask her, if she knows.”

“I’d rather talk to you alone,” Sylvia suggested.

“Come on Sylvia, I never met the man before,” I suggested.

“Oh I believe you, but he did threaten your sister,” Sylvia suggested.

“But he shot himself,” I said. “I had nothing to do with that.”

“I don’t know how you did it, but I’m sure you are responsible for his death,” she said.

“That’s just plain bullshit,” I said.

“Maybe, but I’M going to spend whatever time I have to spent proving it,” she said.

“Haven’t you heard you can’t prove a negative,” I replied. “If there is nothing else, I have to deliver these fillets before they get warm.”

“Be on your way, but know I’m going to watch you,” she said as she turned back to her car.

“So what else is new?” I asked.

After I delivered the fillets to Mom, I returned home to drag the line yet again. The Kayak went through the water like a fish. Keith had spent a few extra bucks on the beast. It was a little longer so it didn’t fit in the bed of the truck. For that reason I had built a rack that allowed the Kayak to sit with one end above the cab of the truck. The other end was down in the bed against the tailgate. That did require a bungee cord to hold the end above the cab in place, otherwise the plastic craft would blow out.

When I returned to the pickup, I packed my five gallon paint bucket with the days catch into the truck first. Only after that did I struggle with the kayak. I was tired of struggling with the kayak, so I took a look at uncle Keith’s kayak trailer. It was built useing bicycle tires and wheels. I knew it wouldn’t last long at highway speeds. At the bare minimum it needed better wheels, since I would be using it twice a day, most days.

I researched the hell out of wheels and tires. I found that if I built a trailer from scratch with all new tires it could easily run a thousand dollars. The best I could do was use Uncle Keith’s design and modify his trailer. Beef up the parts and make it a little more road worthy. I would also have to check it for tire wear regularly. I found that Keith was a genius or I was an idiot or maybe. It was likely a bit of both.

With my small amount of free time between my campground duties and my fishing, I worked on the trailer modifications. I went to the second chance store in Greenville and bought four sixteen inch bicycles for the wheels. I went to u-tube online to learn how to grease the wheel bearings. I reconditioned the to wheels on the trailer, and an extra one hanging on the trailer just in case. Now that was something Uncle Keith had never done. Of course he also didn’t drive the trailer around at sixty miles an hour on the county roads.

I spent two weeks on the trailer working and hour at a time here and there on it. It wasn’t a priority since the truck bed frame worked fine. I really just didn’t like the struggle to load and unload it twice a day. I had other things I needed to use the truck for during the day. Even with the new challenge, my life got boring in a hurry. Boring can be a good thing, I thought. I mean, I wasn’t worried about getting a knife, made from a tooth brush handle, in the back for some imagined insult. If not that it might be something shoved up my ass, just to prove the owner of the offending object was tougher than me. Believe me someone is always tougher and willing to show it.

The weather would be changing soon, so I tried to make use of every minute. I spent as much time on the river as possible. I even installed a second full sized chest freezer for more catfish, along with a commercial ice maker. I set up a rotating system for using the fillets with the oldest dates first. Just to cut down on freezer burn. I hated the idea of running such a sophisticated operation, but mom paid for all the improvements after she convinced me that it was necessary.

It was over a month after the suicide in the steak house when Deputy Angie Davenport showed up at the Gatehouse plantation. “John Boyd,” she said after she removed her slightly wide ass from the Sheriff’s patrol car.

“Now I know that isn’t really a question, so what can I do for you?” I asked.

“I was wondering if you had anymore information on Clyde Summers?” she asked.

“Who the hell is Clyde Summers?” I asked.

“The man who shot himself in the head,” She explained.

“Look Deputy Davenport I have no idea who or what he was. I didn’t even know his name until you told me just now. Sorry I can’t help you.” I said. “As you can see, I’m up to my ass in Catfish that I have to fillet. So if there is nothing else”

“Actually I wanted to ask you what your sister’s relationship with Mr Summers might be?” she asked.

“There is none that I know of,” I said.

“It doesn’t make sense that a total stranger would walk up to you with a gun,” she said.

“Like I said before I don’t know what he was up to. I didn’t get a chance to ask Gabby how she knew him before I had his brains as part of stuffed baked potato.” I explained.

“Call me if you think of anything,” she said giving me her card.

“Okay, but I’m not going to think of anything,” I said.

“By the way did you know Edward Gaines from your day in the state pen?”she asked.

“Yes I did,” I admitted only because it was well documented.

“Why did he commit suicide,” She asked.

“I have no idea,” I said.

“He hung himself in the cell next to yours didn’t he?” she asked.

“You obviously know that he did. Before you ask I have no idea why he did it either,” I said.

“You didn’t by any chance encourage him to do it did you?” She asked.

“No, but I don’t think anyone encouraged him to do anything,” I replied.

“Did you join in on the beating earlier that day?” she asked.

“No, as you can tell I didn’t have any kids, so the fact he was a child rapist had no special significance to me,” I explained. “Tell Sylvia next time to come herself to ask her dumb shit questions.”

Angie turned off the recorder then said, “Sorry about that. She thought you might respond to me.”

“Well you are younger and prettier than that cow, but I tell everyone the truth. That way I don’t have to trust my memory.”

“Look John, I’d like to make it up to you. Call me sometime and I’ll buy you a drink,” she suggested.

“I’m pretty sure it would be a violation of my parole to date you,” I said with a smile.

“Then we won’t date, since it wouldn’t do my career any good to be seen out with you socially. Why don’t you buy a pizza and a six pack and come to my house. We can watch a movie and talk about your drug dealing days,” she suggested.

“That sounds tempting, but I’m going to have to pass. Talking to a cop about those days is just plain stupid,” I said.

“We don’t absolutely have to talk at all,” she finally said.

“When do you want to watch a movie with me?” I asked.

“Sunday 7PM show up with a Pizza, beer, and a hard on,” she said.

“Okay, I can do all that,” I said.

The day before my date with Deputy Angie Davenport, my mom had a wedding. I helped Edwardo the world famous catfish chef. It was my third wedding working as an apprentice chef.

Joy and Jen worked the wedding as well. The catfish fry didn’t require a hug wait staff. After they piled the food onto the tables, the guests helped themselves. The girls mostly served ice tea and coffee. The service was called family style, Edwardo told me.

We worked before the guest arrived, and during the meal we were still working. After the guest left we were cleaning the food truck styled kitchen. Since they had worked around me twice before, Joy and Jen were comfortable around me. They enjoyed flirting with me in spite of the fact that it made me nervous. More likely they enjoyed it was because it made me nervous.

I had a hard time getting to sleep that night. I almost called Angie Davenport but I resisted the urge. I felt like hell Sunday morning, but I had to clean a cabin/tent and scrub the toilets and showers. It was true there were several thing I found less than appealing about being the boss. I had done worse things in prison, and was even more miserable while I did them.

I made a trip to the river to drag the line as I had begun to think of checking the bait and removing the few catfish I caught. I ran the line again at 4PM so that I was through in time to shower before I drove to the pizza restaurant and the convenience store for take out pizza and beer. I showed up to find Angie had dressed casually.