Episode 1: Sweet Home Alabama

Bartlett, Alabama. Population 8,400.

A great place to raise a family and still be a tourist attraction, the town was like a larger scale Mayberry complete with its fair share of Andy, Opie, and Aunt Bea’s. It had its backwards lifestyle yet managed to be one of the state’s luckiest epicenters, having the largest natural lake in the entire region, Lake Kironos. It might sound Greek but that’s because it was a Goddamned big pond.

Surprisingly, the town itself hadn’t grown much bigger to accommodate its economic ability. Aside from the lake itself, it had very little to offer the people. Lush farming on all four sides of Bartlett kept things home grown. With the exception of some prime swampland on the lake’s further banks, it was the ideal location to settle down in. Something Garrison Dhorne had already tried to do once before. This time he was determined to make things work.

“Hi honey, I’m home.”

Dhorne came to a crossroads braking his red Dodge Ram smack dab in the middle of the crossing and shut off the ignition. He sat there in the peace and quiet with both windows rolled down to feel a warm breeze circulate. 88 degrees and not a cloud in the sky. Radio silence he prepared for the symphony. A trait that Nora exposed him to back in the day it was a waiting game. As if a Maestro Oz posed his hands above his steering wheel and counted his chicks. With a whiplash instruction of fingers, a mass murmuration of starlings erupted from the crops as if prompted. Like a smothering whirlwind millions of birds took to the air in ariel acrobatics that boggled the imagination. “Starlet sent the starlings! Good job One! Good job!” Performance waning, he gripped his steering wheel for a final encore. Turning his stereo on he played a CD of songs that his wife Nora LeGend had recorded before they ever set eyes and thighs on one another. No tears! Even if the song playing began with the sounds of a waterfall. The title of the song was Born Again. Mulling it over in his mind he mumbled “Dhorne Again!” Baptized!

Glancing down each of the four roads he found himself alone, a man in the middle. Sighing gruffly, “Reckon this here is my mid-life crisis, Noralou! Time to wash away my sins and skins. Keep on kneelin’ and dealin’. This is for you. For the boy. Reckon for me.” Eight years ago, his wife Nora, a Broadway Opera singer native to Bartlett lost her life to a drunk driver. Leaving him behind to care for their son Connor James, a life that he wasn’t quite ready for in singing a solo wasn’t easy. His career kept him on the move making it difficult to have any semblance of a normal life. Dhorne himself had followed in the footsteps of his father becoming a Navy Seal, then graduating to a Black Ops unit. Special! Special Forces. You get the idea and the NDA! The things he knew put a target on his backside. But again, those who knew him, knew he could easily fire back with deadly precision. His idea of peace talks. A long lineage of soldiers he had his own army to buck him up as much as back him up. Better to let sleeping dogs lie. Flea while you could!

He attempted a regular existence by marrying Nora LeGend and settling here in Bartlett for just under two years before his lust for adventure kicked back in. Nora didn’t approve of course, but she also knew who wore the pants and who wore the collar. Free unless in his prescence she took care of her family business to the best of her abilities.

She had willfully embraced her life as a slave to Garrison Ozymandias Dhorne over their seventeen years of marriage. As far as he was concerned, she was still crawling on all fours right behind him. Having their son’s birth two days shy of their first wedding anniversary grounded him for six months. Then, business came before family. He would come home for a month then vanish again. Difficult on everyone, especially his son growing up distant of his father’s love. That was about to change. “Just like dirty diapers on a seventeen-year-old.”

Following Nora’s death Garrison hid behind his occupation rather than focus on the needs of his boy. Leaving his son at first under the love and guidance of Nora’s parents Augustus and Barbara LeGend, then, transplanted to Nora’s sister Nina Sebastian to her regret. During the trying times of her own husband’s untimely demise, it wasn’t long before she arranged the troublesome teen’s final residence at a military boarding school where he would be tamed down. In Garrison’s mind that was a good call, prepping the boy for the next in line in the Dhorne formation. Problem was, Connor was weak, taking more after his mother. Like his mom he adored Drama and Acting. He was certainly a Dhorne because taming was for MASTERS. Taming of the Shrewd Oz would call it.

The question was, who was tamed? He or his instructor’s? His son may have taken after Nora’s talents more than Garrison’s, but he certainly had his father’s rebellious persona. After a lengthy stint in Iraq then Afghanistan, a few sideline South American missions of stealth Garrison Dhorne was ready to play dad. Emphasis on play! As gritty as his life was led, Garrison did indeed love a good game. Humor had never been sold short on eBay.

His mind lost to the past he had forgotten where he was parked, hearing a police issue siren flip off and on twice with the lights blinking behind his truck. Glancing up into his rearview mirror to see an officer step out of the car he turned his music up full blast. Defiant Fucker! What an officer she was!

Seeing his reflection in the side mirror the officer came to a halt at the bumper before patting the side of the bed. “Please step out of the truck, Sir”. Can’t hear you! Closing his eyes, shades up over his bandana he sang along with Nora. This song was called Overlook the Obvious. So, he followed her heart. She respected Nora until the final decibel before repeating herself. Stereo off to hear the officer, Garrison Dhorne humored her, noting her big green eyes and spectacular body. Her long blond hair was pinned back but he knew there was plenty there to tug on when the time was right. Getting out of the truck with a well-versed creak he dropped down to tower over her by five inches as he put his hands in the air. “Afternoon, Officer Zoe!”

“That’s Officer Brooks when on duty, Stranger”.

“It’s been a while Brooks.” He grinned at her stern attitude, “How you been?” Stepping around her to gander at her perfectly balanced backside she merely tilted her head to the side watching him, “That’s harassing an officer.”

“HER ASS is still tight nuff to bounce a quarter on.” Dhorne chuckled! “Or should I say a silver dollar collar?”

Hiding her expression, she bent over to touch the ground. In response Dhorne eased closer to roll the palm of his hand over her slacks. “Just like the day we met Zoe. Firm to Squirm! You’ve been working out.”

“Thank you, Sir! Welcome back. May I stand now?”

“What’s yer hurry? Still afraid of what others may think about an officer of the law or worried about bending my law?”

“I love my job, Sir. I’d like to retire from it in twenty years.”

Dhorne narrowed his gaze, “Now who’s breaking the law?”

“I am, Sir.” She took a deep breath and held it. “Your law is the only law.”

Keeping a straight face, he clasped his right hand over his left wrist behind his back and paced about the middle of the deserted rural area. He knew that any other day this road saw more traffic. “Good girl! Thanks for the welcome home escort.”

Zoe offers her welcome verbally as he moved to face her bent forward position, “Stand up!”

She obeys lowering her eyelids out of respect. “How long have I owned you, Brooks?”

She carefully mulled it over in her mind, “Five years, three months, eighteen days...” She then glanced at her watch, “ ... nine hours, twenty-two minutes.”

“Sloppy seconds!”

She faintly smiles, “Is that not your decision, Sir?”

“That’s my girl! Now slip on out of that uniform.”

Cocking an eyebrow Zoe Brooks aka Number Two unfastened her gun belt, resting it on the asphalt. From there she pulled her tucked in shirt out. Lifting her left foot to pull off a boot in pursuit of her other boot she felt the heat on her feet through her socks. Shirt unbuttoned and peeled off of well-tanned shoulders left her standing with only her pants. Eyes still lowered her pants fell to the asphalt then were kicked aside. Dhorne then placed an index finger to her lips telling her to stop there as a car approached from the west. Picking up her gun belt he buckled it and dangled it over her head and under her left armpit. Glock 22 and a white lace bra covered her 38D breasts.

“Willing to risk your job for your Master?”

She swallowed hard but offered him a show of inner strength. “I gave my word that I would die for you, Sir. Therefore, my career is meaningless. I would miss it though.” A well-compensated early retirement should that happen had her fingers crossed. He had always taken care of what was his in some form or another, mostly her career choice. While not his one like Nora, he did give a shit over his number two. Nora knew Zoe in her youth but not of Oz claiming her after her death to fill a miserable void. Nora understood even from the afterlife. He was the Alpha Leader!

The car reaching them halted at the stop sign to idle while taking in her breathtaking beauty. The driver of the car was an elderly man with thick glasses. Zoe looked up against her better judgement, “Hello, Moss.”

Mosser Pettigrew leaned out his driver’s side window expressing a dull chalky voice, “Miss Zoe! Nice day!”

She coyly glanced at Dhorne who gave her a bitter expression. “Yer mistake was what?”

Zoe lowered her eyes again, “I let myself make a decision of disrespect by losing focus on you. I let the outside world in, blocking you out. Forgive me, Sir.”

Dhorne turned her to face him as he waved at the old man grinning. “Howdy Moss! Long time no see.” Worse for him, he was blind without his pop bottle glasses. By all rights he shouldn’t even be driving. “Bet you never expected to ogle Zoe strip searchin’ herself for concealed weapons, did ya?” The old man tilted his John Deere hat back by the brim and studied the situation. “What’s she hidin’?”

Dhorne kept a straight face, “Ever hear of Chernobyl?”

Moss nodded with a gooey spit out the window, “Damn Russian’s invade us?”

“Yup!” Dhorne sighed, containing a smirk, “They hid a contained radioactive isoGrope on her somewhere. It’s microscopic. She pulled me over and asked me to help her find it. Wanna help do yer country a service?”

Mosser’s eyes brightened up. “I fought in W.W.II.” Car in park, he stepped slowly out of his car, limping toward the front of it with his 98-year-old limbs. “I was a mine sweeper back in the day. I used to find land mines.”

Zoe kept her composure while Oz patted up and down her back, her mind wanting to laugh, “Moss you check her front. I’ll check back here.” Dhorne slid his right hand down her lace panties and fingered her butt pucker, might take two. Her eyes fluttered under pressure but remain lowered. The old fart reached toward her as Dhorne nudged her forward into his grasp. He clutched her breasts over her bra and searched beneath her gun belt. “Find anything up there, Moss?”

The elder Vet stammered, “Now how the hades can I find it if it’s microscopic? How can I even feel it?” His eyes grew as big as saucers behind his spectacles. “These here sure ain’t tiny.” Moss started chuckling as Zoe shivered with his hands squeezing her breasts gently. Of course, she was repulsed by a 98-year-old man tenderizing her. However, Master knew what he was doing. She would bite the bullet. “Think I found that pesky critter, Moss.” Zoe felt her bra clasp come undone. All she could think about was her Chief of Police giving her a pink slip and asking for her badge. “It’s ticking Moss. You might wanna step back in case she blows.”

She fought a moment of amusement as Mosser Pettigrew hobbled back three steps, “Goddamned Commies! Wiring a pretty girl.”

Dhorne carefully removed her bra from beneath her gun holster showing him its under wire. His attention was hardly on the bras frame and Dhorne knew it. Dhorne hesitated, reacting as if listening with an expression of shock. “Wait! You hear that, Moss? The timebomb tickin’s not coming from the wire.”

Moss winced reaching up to his left ear trying to turn up his hearing aid. Oz moving around her leaned in and put his ear up to Zoe’s left breast, “The tickin’s gettin’ faster.” He gave Moss a troubled expression, “Moss I found a failsafe. You recall the military installin’ them there two key deployments?”

Moss stood totally confused until Oz guided him back to face Zoe’s left tit. “You gotta turn this here nipple at the exact same time I do with the right one.”

Moss smacked his lips spitting a nasty combination of chewing tobacco and saliva on the ground then looked at Dhorne pinching her opposite nipple. “I’d crack my knuckles, but my arthritis won’t let me.” Zoe wanted to burst into laughter but held it in as Moss and Oz joined forces and gripped her nipples, “Okay Moss, on the count of three. One hard turn right then a quick turn left.” A brief hesitation to confirm, “One. two, Now Moss!”

They managed it perfectly as Zoe gnashed her teeth whining under her breath at the pain. “Good job, Moss. The ticking stopped. We just saved Zoe girl from blowing up. Bartlett’s hero, Buddy!” Dhorne stood at attention saluting Mosser, “Congratulations Soldier. You did your country a great service.”

The elderly man nodded without expression, “See what happens when cowboys become presidents? He leaps horses over Commie walls.” Boy, was he living in the Reagan days!

Garrison raised an eyebrow trying to decipher the man’s logic when he patted Dhorne on the back pulling him aside out of Zoe’s hearing. “Did you tell her the Cold War was over?” He winked pinching his own pectorals through his shirt. “Couldn’t tell by the size of those dials.” Mosser returned to his car cackling. He loved Garrison Dhorne as much as everybody. “Been a hoot to go with those owls Ozymandias. Stop by the farm sometime and we’ll throw horseshoes at yer bombshell and set her off.” Driving off he was all over the road. Not one ticket! Not one wreck! Miracles would never cease.

Dhorne and Zoe both waved goodbye to Mosser as Zoe as frowned keeping her thoughts to herself. “He just milked the cow right outta MOSScow!”

“May I get dressed now, Sir?”

Oz noted her attitude. “Moral of the story is?”

She shook her head at his logic. “As long as I fail, I’ll never be safe?” Best guess! Failsafe!