Chapter 28

Here’s what happened, as best I could piece it together.

Jamie Thorpe had followed his ex-wife and daughter to my grandparents’ house at ten that morning. He watched Kayla walk Emma to the door and my grandmother let them in. Jamie then went to the Top Hat, a topless bar on the outskirts of Daytona, and proceeded to drink and nurse his anger at Kayla. What really rankled with Jamie was the amended custody order that directed his visits with his daughter be supervised as if he were a potential pedophile. That the amended order was the judge’s way of insuring that Jamie continued paying his child support was lost on Jamie. He would much rather blame his bitch of an ex-wife.

Jamie reached the point where his snoot full of loud mouth overruled his common sense. He paid for one last lap dance from Mona Mounds and her incredible 44’s and headed to my grandparents’ house, drunkenly determined to rescue his child from the clutches of strangers.

Nana opened the door unconcernedly when Jamie rang the bell. After all, this was Palmdale, the town with the lowest crime rate in Florida. Jamie pushed his way into the house.

“I want to see my daughter, where is she?” he demanded.

Before Nana could answer Emma and Jethro came skidding around the corner to see who had rung the doorbell. Jamie took a step toward Emma.

“Come on, Emma! You’re leaving with Daddy.”

Emma didn’t want to do anything of the kind so she darted behind Nana. Nana might have been in her sixties but she was still a mother, so no way was Jamie getting to Emma without going through her first. Jamie had figured that out and advanced toward the frightened child and determined grandmother. How hard, he figured, could it be to take one small child away from one small elderly woman? Jamie, in his single-minded drunken determination, forgot about the fourth person in the room. Well, Jethro Pulaski had finally met a human he didn’t like. He gave a loud growling bark, jumped between Jamie and Nana and turned into the hound dog version of Cujo. Nana grabbed Emma and ran to her bedroom while Jethro had Thorpe’s attention.

We roared up to the driveway about two minutes after Nana’s call. Papa reached under his truck seat, pulled out a two-foot-long piece of inch and a quarter oak dowel, and we sprinted towards the door. My grandparents’ house was a split-level, three-bedroom ranch. The master suite was off the dining room to our left as we came in. When we piled through the front door we turned left and were greeted by the sight of a disheveled cursing man beating on the master bedroom door with a heavy brass bookend shaped like a duck. Jethro was barking furiously and kept lunging at the man’s legs. Thorpe would kick or swing at Jethro to ward him off then return to pounding on the door.

Jethro saw Papa just as Jamie was aiming a vicious kick in the dog’s direction. With his attention diverted, Jethro didn’t dodge quickly enough, Thorpe’s shoe caught him in the haunch and Jethro yelped in pain. Uh oh! If the man ever had a chance of getting out of my Papa’s house in one piece, I think he just canceled it.

“See to my dog, Johnny,” Papa said in this flat scary voice, as he advanced on the crazy man at his bedroom door.

“Get back, old man, I won’t hurt you if you give me my daughter.”

Papa didn’t say a word, but he did lash out with the piece of wood he carried. The sound of the round piece of oak hitting Thorpe’s wrist sounded like a gunshot. Thorpe screamed and dropped the bookend, his right hand hanging uselessly. Then Papa brought the stick around backhanded and slammed it into Thorpe’s right knee. Thorpe dropped to the ground face first and Papa dropped onto the injured mans back. Then he threaded the dowel under Thorpe’s neck until he could grab it with his other hand. With his hands about a foot apart on the stick Papa pulled back until Thorpe couldn’t breathe. Man I was about to crap my pants thinking papa was going to off the guy right there. Then Papa looked at me and winked.

“If you ever set foot in my house again... I. Will. Kill. You! Do you understand?” Papa said in this really thick Polish accent.

And that’s how the deputies found us about a minute later when they edged in through the open door, guns drawn. The deputies immediately drew down on Papa, because he appeared to be the aggressor. It took Nana coming out of the bedroom to put matters right.

The deputies placed Jamie Thorpe under arrest then called an ambulance for him. They weren’t sure what to do with Papa, so they called in a Sergeant to sort it out. The Sergeant listened to Papa’s story and directed the deputies to write it up as self defense on Papa’s part.

In contrast, they threw the book at Jamie Thorpe. Attempted kidnapping of a child, assault on an elderly person, resisting arrest with violence (this was a weak charge based on Papa making a citizen’s arrest), and cruelty to animals for kicking Jethro. Jethro was just fine. As a matter of fact, he came out of the deal the best. His heroics finally made Nana a member of his fan club.

On the second Saturday of June, I attended Jane Pullman’s wedding. Yes, that’s right, big Jane was marrying lucky ass Ralph Dabney, the fellow that worked at her bank. The wedding and reception were both held at the Moose Lodge and my father gave the bride away. Caroline Hernandez and Amanda, Jane’s daughter, were the bride’s maids. I was sitting in a folding chair on the bride’s side of the aisle with Cindi, Elaine and Ellen. Cindi, sitting on my right, whispered something to Ellen, who was sitting to Cindi’s right. Ellen tittered which drew Elaine’s attention. Of course, Elaine had to get in on the conversation so she leaned across me and Cindi whispered the same thing to her. Elaine giggled too, and shot me a look.

“What?” I whispered.

“Cindi says you’ve slept with everyone in the bridal party,” she whispered back.

“Only the women,” I said, “and not since I fell in love with you all; and hardly any sleeping was involved.”

Caroline, Amanda and I were still the best of friends even if we were no longer fuck buddies. I was at ease now about the little dom/sub thing going on between them, because Amanda said it was mostly just a game they sometimes played.

The following week Cindi and I spent all the time we could with Ellen and Elaine because they were going to Ireland for five weeks on the twentieth of June. Ellen and Cindi were safely on the pill now, so we were over messy birth control and worrying about condoms. But it wasn’t really all about the sex before they left, as great as that was. It was also about just being together.

The twins were stoked about seeing where their mother’s family came from, and finding out more about their heritage, but they were also sad to be leaving Cindi and me. I spent a lot of time with Elaine because she was especially unhappy about the thought of being away from me for so long.

She and I were alone in my bedroom, cuddled naked under the covers. “I am going to miss you way too much, Johnny, I can feel it already starting, and we haven’t even left yet.”

I held her tighter but didn’t say anything. With our connection, words were superfluous anyway. When we were together like that, both of us sated from making love, our connection felt as if it were as large as those massive cables on the Golden Gate Bridge. Elaine felt it too, I guess, because she rolled on top of me and looked into my eyes.

“Close your eyes, honey. Relax and concentrate on my tingle, I want to try something,” she said.

I did as she asked. I felt her connection to me flare even stronger. This time though, instead of feeling her as a sensation that washed over me, I felt her as a tickle in my mind. When I focused on that tickle, an image started taking shape. When the image swam into soft focus I was so startled I flinched and lost it. But, for a startling heartbeat, floating in my head had been a big red neon heart, and inside the heart were her initials.

When my eyes popped open Elaine smiled. “You saw it didn’t you? That was my heart Johnny, it belongs to you now.”

Wow!

The week that the twins left for Ireland is when I met my ‘cousin’ Tyler Tiplitski. I said cousin in quotes because Tyler is the grandson of my self-proclaimed aunt, Olga Swistak. In the circular logic of Olga and Nana, if Tyler is Olga’s grandson, and she has declared me her nephew, then Tyler and I must be cousins. I met Tyler because Papa hired him as a favor to Aunt Olie. Tyler had just graduated from high school and was trying to decide on his future. Papa said he’d give the boy a try but there were no free rides at Pulaski Construction. Olie said she understood, and that Tyler was a hard worker, so that shouldn’t be a problem.

I gotta tell you, Tyler Tiplitski was the most countrified person I’ve even seen, who was not on ’The Beverly Hillbillies.’ Tyler made Jethro Bodine look as if he were a worldly city slicker! My first clue to Tyler’s nature was when he pulled up to the job site in a Black 4X4 Ford Ranger Pickup that was jacked up high enough to give you a nosebleed. The truck sported a set of serious off-road tires as tall as Cindi Frazier. Four spotlights were mounted on a roll bar behind the cab. A big aluminum dog box with a high swivel seat perched on top of it nearly filled the truck’s bed.

My second clue came when Tyler kicked open the truck’s door and dropped to the ground. He was dressed head to toe in Realtree or Mossy Oak camouflage (I can never tell them apart). It was the first time I had ever seen a camo wife-beater t-shirt. I still need someone to explain the need for such an item. The only splash of color on him was the Confederate Flag emblazoned on the front of his camo baseball cap, and the words ’Get ‘Er Done’ stitched in red above the flag.

Tyler walked up to Papa and introduced himself in a most respectful voice.

“Mr. Pulaski?” When Papa nodded, Tyler continued. “Sir, I’m Tyler Tiplitski, thank you for hiring me, you won’t regret it.”

Papa shook his hand and introduced me. I stuck out my hand. Tyler grabbed it and pulled me into a crushing bear hug.

“Hey, Cuz! I’ve heard a lot about you from my Grammy.”

Tyler was a stout young man. He stood about five-eleven and weighed well over two hundred pounds. He had that blocky, weight lifter’s build.

When I could breathe again I said, “Nice to meet you, Tyler.”

“Call me Tater,” he grinned, “everybody else does.”

I liked Tater from the get go. He was a good guy. I’ll bet you are wondering how a redneck like Tater could be from Palmdale, a city with the headquarters of two Fortune 500 corporations and the highest per capita ratio of millionaires in America. Easy answer, Tater wasn’t from Palmdale proper, even though he had a Palmdale mailing address. Tater was from the small farming community of Spotsatula, about fifteen miles west of the city. Polish immigrants settled Spotsatula in the early twentieth century. Descendants of those settlers still farmed thousands of acres of cabbage, carrots, celery and onions.

Spotsatula enjoyed a special status with the county and state as an important segment of a diversified economy. Over two hundred square miles of that part of the county was zoned special agricultural. The Turner and Thornton (TnT) Ranch was on the eastern edge of Spotsatula. Thornton money and Turner political clout had kept land speculators and developers at bay.

Tater was the hard worker that Olga Swistak advertised. The boy was strong as an ox and had the stamina of a water buffalo. Papa was getting his money’s worth! Tater was working for Papa because his parents were trying to get him to reconsider not going to college. That was why Tater ended up with all the hardest jobs. Papa was making sure he knew how hard some folks had to work. Tyler Tiplitski wasn’t interested in going to college, he wanted to be a Marine. Tater was adamant about enlisting but he bowed to his grandmother’s wish that he stick around and work through the summer before enlisting.

Tater and Jethro got along famously, which made Papa like Tater even more. Tater had a couple of hunting dogs of his own and he thought Jethro would fit right in with them. Tater didn’t know that the only thing Jethro would hunt was a place to lie down!

Tater also met Cindi one day when she popped in to take me to lunch. Of course I invited Tater to lunch with us. The two became friends immediately, I think because they both had weird senses of humor, and because Tater loved Cindi’s soft Tennessee drawl. Cindi told me later that she also made sure Tater only saw her as a friend by radiating that message using her empathic talent.

Tater also met the twins and Nina right before they left for Ireland. Nina brought them by where we were working on their way home from shopping. The twins were friendly and nice to Tater but they made it clear who their man was. They were especially affectionate because they were leaving in a couple of days. When they drove off Tater looked at me and shook his head ruefully.

“Cuz, those are some special women, they ain’t the prettiest I’ve ever seen but they have something that makes them beautiful anyway. Shee-it, You are some kind of lucky so and so.”

Nothing much I could say to that.

Speaking of Nina, she was still glowing from the early stages of her pregnancy, her clothes were starting to get snug in the waist but she wasn’t showing yet. She said she was going to go public with her pregnancy while they were all in Ireland. I spent one evening a week with Nina. We usually got together on Tuesdays, her housekeeper’s day off. Sometimes she would cook for me and other times she’d take me out. Nina and I had a pretty cool relationship. We were friends with benefits and she was my mentor on things in life I was embarrassed to ask of anyone else. I knew I was special to her, because she put aside Tuesdays for me even though she led a very busy life.

But back to Cousin Tater. Tater knew I was bummed because the twins had left, so he invited Cindi and I out to the farm to go varmint hunting. Tater even convinced Papa that it was a good idea for Jethro to go run with his dogs. Sort of let Jethro rediscover his roots, as it were. According to Tater, getting rid of varmints — rabbits especially — was a chore that had to be done. If left unchecked, the rabbits multiplied like — well, like rabbits — and they could inflict considerable damage on crops if left unchecked.