Chapter 19

Edgar Belkin swore at his (family) lawyer. “This is what I want, make it happen. Noreen gets the Via Diablo house and contents, her Lincoln, Clay’s truck, and Clay’s bills. She gets $3 million in cash. Clay gets $200 thousand. All conditioned on signing a permanent settlement agreement. You have the power to agree on my behalf. Get the cash from Irv, now beat it.” Edgar tipped the photos of his wife and daughter into the trash.

(Two months later.) Archie sat at the wheel of his new Ford pickup truck. He couldn’t quite believe things were happening this quickly. Mom sat in her new Charger and grinned at him, wiggling her tush on the leather seats. The hospital had sent them a new statement with a zero balance.

Cathie and Jessie were stocking up on “burnt orange” t-shirts and (secretly) halters and swimwear. Bruce watched with a wistful expression. The girls were days away from leaving for Austin with Jessie’s car. And Bruce had surprised Cathie with a classic pickup, polished to perfection with a smooth-running rebuilt motor. “All I need now is a gun rack in the window and longhorns on the hood.” Bruce rolled his eyes. On the other hand, he was very approving of his girlfriend surrounded by two tons of bad-ass muscle car. “Lookin’ good, Miz Dawes.”

Judge Garlock had approved the settlement, the funds had been transferred, and the case had been concluded.

Sara Jane Kelso telephoned Archie: I’m referring you to my colleague, his name is Brian Feloni. I’ve told him the high points of your story...”

“That must have needed four seconds,” grumbled Archie.

“Stop! Work that out with him. He is expecting your call at (936) 5...”

Brian opened his office door and shook Archie’s hand. “Hey, Mr. Dawes, how’re ya doin’?”

“My stepfather would say, ‘fair to middlin’ but he’d say that even if somebody smashed his pickup car.”

“Pickup car?”

“Yeah it looks like a passenger sedan and a pickup truck had unnatural relations and look what happened.” He pulled out his phone. “There he is, with his ‘classic.’ That’s my Mom next to Bruce, and my sister Jessie is holding her purse. The girl with the big, uh, chest, is Bruce’s daughter Cathie.”

“Yeah, chest, I see.” Brian quelled the urge to comment further. “Please, make yourself comfortable. So, you’re here about missing balls?” Archie choked and sputtered. “Hey, no sweat. Sweaty balls are nasty anyways. Lots of people have no balls. Ever been to Austin? The whole Capitol is full of them. You know who did have balls in Austin? Governor Richards. She had great balls. Remember, she said Bush was ‘born with a silver foot in his mouth.’ Any questions?” He stood. “OK, I’ll see you next week.”

Archie regarded Brian with disbelief.

“What? Found your balls? Or were they not so important after all? Let’s start again.” He resumed his seat. “I’m Brian Feloni. No, not that kind. I have a Bachelor’s from Ole Miss and a Master’s from Colorado. Go Buffaloes! Want some advice? Good. We aim to please. Sit up straight, your chest looks concave. Do you need glasses? Why are you squinting? Oh yeah, some weakling kicked sand in your eye. Look at me! I ain’t talking just to ventilate my head. Didn’t I just tell you to sit up? How about those Astros? Going to college? How about your sibs? Va-voom, they are super cute. Is Bruce gay? Can’t you get that eye fixed? Sit up, dammit! Your slouch hurts my neck.”

Archie held up a hand, as if to ward Feloni off. “No college. But he girls are going to UT. Yes they really are pretty. Bruce is not gay; Mom is hot for him. My eye was fixed, but it’s still healing.” Archie struggled to his feet. “I’m sorry to have wasted your time, Mr. Feloni.” As he turned to leave, he heard, “wait.”

“One thing you should know about me, Archie, I always want the last word. And I try to sweep through the preliminaries so we get to the real story. When is the last time you thought about your missing balls?” Archie smiled, “Point taken.”

“Now, don’t make me do this all again. What’s my name?” “Brian Feloni, B.S., M.S., bottom of his class.” “Ha. Where are your balls?” “Ann Richards took ‘em.”

“OK, we’re done for today. Tell your parents to call me for a sit down. Your homework is to tell me all about how you lived for two years on the coast. And don’t slouch, I fucking hate it. Now, scram!”