A Short History of a Small Place (35 page)

BOOK: A Short History of a Small Place
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As Mrs. Phillip J. King figured it, the former Miss Dupont and Mr. Gallos had already been pausing near about a half hour when Mr. Jack Byrd came sauntering down the street from the mill and let himself in his front door. And Mrs. Phillip J. King said the arrival of Mr. Jack Byrd was followed by two full hours of uneventful pausing on the part of the former Miss Dupont and her gardener, most of which Mr. Gallos spent sleeping and most of which the former Miss Dupont spent wondering and speculating and pondering and suspecting. And Mrs. Phillip J. King said at the end of the two full hours Miss Sissy emerged from the house onto the front stoop all flushed and fresh looking only to be drawn by Mr. Jack Byrd back into the doorway where Mrs. Phillip J. King said the two of them fell into each other’s arms and kissed most passionately. And while the former Miss Dupont watched her daughter-in-law kiss whoever it was she was kissing, she figured and concluded that since Miss Sissy had rot gone to Raleigh and had not gone to visit the university at Chapel Hill and had not gone to Greensboro or High Point either, she had instead been forced to settle for a short trip into the bedroom and under the sheets with a brawny, moustachioed millworker who was very obviously not Miss Marie Ketner. And the very second Mrs. Phillip J. King said, “sheets” was the precise moment Momma discovered she simply had to have the recipe for Waldorf salad that was located in the back of a magazine on the nightstand in the front bedroom, so I got sent after it while Momma soaked Mrs. Phillip J. King in the meantime. And just as I stepped out of the back hallway and into the breakfast room again with Momma’s
National Geographic,
which was the only magazine on the nightstand in the front bedroom, Momma lurched up straight in her chair and asked Mrs. Phillip J. King didn’t she believe we were in for a spell of dry air from the east, and Mrs. Phillip J. King tilted her head slightly in Momma’s direction and said, “Lord no, honey.”
According to Mrs. Phillip J. King the former Miss Dupont intended to tell Mr. Alton’s daddy the news of Miss Sissy at the supper table, but the afternoon of the former Miss Dupont’s intrigue with her gardener Mr. Gallos turned out to be the afternoon of the actual day one of the duck imbroglio, what Mrs. Phillip J. King called the overture to discord, so Mr. Alton’s daddy was already worked up into a sufficient lather by the time he reached the supper table and for the moment the former Miss Dupont decided against stirring him up any further. Consequently, Mr. Alton’s daddy ranted about his vile poachers for awhile and then boiled on down to the bungalow still ignorant of Miss Sissy and her millworker, and the former Miss Dupont spent the early evening in what Mrs. Phillip J. King called a revery and made plans to break the news to Mr. Alton’s daddy when he had cooled off some, which he had not done by the time he got home from the bungalow and which he did not do throughout the actual day two of the duck imbroglio and which he still had not done on into the morning of day three. So the former Miss Dupont had kept the news of Miss Sissy’s waywardness to herself for near about two full days by the time the afternoon of the actual day three of the duck imbroglio rolled around and she lingered at the parlor window almost until dark waiting for Miss Sissy to ease the Bentley out of the garage and on down around the hedgerow, but Miss Sissy and the Bentley did not go anywhere and the longer the former Miss Dupont lingered at the parlor window the more she began to wonder and speculate and ponder and suspect which she had not engaged in ever since she’d figured and concluded but which she took up once more now that there was a good two days between herself and the evidence. And Mrs. Phillip J. King said on the evening of day two of the duck imbroglio, which was actually day three, Mr. Alton’s daddy arrived at the supper table relatively collected and unagitated since it was him that had done the pounding with the twenty-ounce hammer and it was Mr. Alton’s knuckles that had received it, but Mrs. Phillip J. King said the former Miss Dupont could not bring herself to tell Mr. Alton’s daddy about Miss Sissy even now that he was calm enough to hear since anymore she was not entirely convinced that she had seen what she had seen. So in the early afternoon of the actual day four of the duck imbroglio, the former Miss Dupont and her gardener Mr. Gallos climbed into the sedan in the garage and crouched down low in the seats waiting for Miss Sissy who came along soon enough and took the Bentley on down around the hedgerow and then along the streets at the speed of desire and all the way across town to the mill village where the former Miss Dupont saw all over again what she had seen previously.
And Mrs. Phillip J. King said once the former Miss Dupont saw the passionate embrace in the doorway and all the kissing that went along with it, her and Mr. Gallos lit out for the Nance estate at very nearly the speed of desire themselves so as to allow the former Miss Dupont to tell Mr. Alton’s daddy all about Miss Sissy’s waywardness while she was still convinced that that was what it was. But the former Miss Dupont could not find Mr. Alton’s daddy in the big house and could not find him or Mr. Alton either in the bungalow, and Mrs. Phillip J. King said that was because it was day three of the duck imbroglio which was actually day four, the ultimate day of the duck imbroglio, and which meant that Mr. Alton’s daddy and Mr. Alton along with Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell and Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell’s brother’s boy, Lyle, were all around at the Gottlieb acre and a half engaged in some earnest negotiating. What had happened was Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell’s brother’s boy, Lyle, had finished up his research the day previous and on the morning following him and his uncle had gotten together in his uncle’s office so as to consult, Mrs. Phillip J. King called it. And she said around midday Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell and Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell’s brother’s boy, Lyle, arrived with their findings at the Nance estate where they were invited by Mr. Alton’s daddy to take lunch with him and Mr. Alton on the bungalow patio prior to any sort of duck related discussion. So Mrs. Phillip J. King said the four of them had cutlets with brown gravy and waxed bean salad which was followed by sponge cake under sherbert which was followed by Mr. Alton’s daddy’s Cuban cigars for everybody except Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell’s brother’s boy, Lyle, who said he did not have the constitution for them.
And Mrs. Phillip J. King said once all the dishes were cleared away but for the coffee cups, Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell opened up his satchel and Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell’s brother’s boy, Lyle, opened up his satchel and the two of them together covered over the tabletop with heaps and piles and bundles of precedents and alternatives and interpretations along with a separate folder full up with notes and illustrations devoted entirely to who had done what to a duck and how he’d answered for it. And right off Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell told Mr. Alton and told Mr. Alton’s daddy that as far as the records showed duck litigation was a delicate business. He said the litigants, who were most usually on the duck’s side of the matter, were not uniformly successful in winning judgements against the offending parties, who did most of their offending, according to Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell, with shotguns and whose sentiments most usually ran contrary to ducks. And Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell went on to say that his brother’s boy, Lyle, had found out that a litigant could hardly hope for a judgement without the aid of what Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell called a palpable trespass on the part of the offending party. And Mr. Alton’s daddy said he had a palpable trespass, said he’d seen with his own eyes three Gottliebs in the midst of one. But Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell said that him and his brother’s boy, Lyle, had pondered over it together and had both agreed that as far as Mr. Alton’s daddy’s trespass was concerned, the three Gottliebs to say they didn’t more than cancelled out the one Nance to say they did. So it was the studied opinion of Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell and it was the studied opinion of Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell’s brother’s boy, Lyle, that Mr. Alton and Mr. Alton’s daddy should not commence any sort of legal proceedings against the Gottliebs since they were not in possession of a clearly indisputable palpable trespass and since, as far as Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell understood the law of it, only those ducks harbored within the bounds of the litigant’s legal holdings, territorially speaking, could be said to belong to the litigant while any creature flying to or flying from the lawfully described boundaries of the litigant’s property was legally subject to the threat of violence and destruction from whosoever might be willing to raise a gun at it, which Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell said could be anybody, even a Gottlieb.
Consequently, it was Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell’s conclusion, to which Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell’s brother’s boy, Lyle, concurred, Mrs. Phillip J. King called it, that Mr. Alton and Mr. Alton’s daddy should not pursue any sort of legal action against the Gottliebs but should instead seek to negotiate with them for an immediate settlement and so put an end to what Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell called the senseless massacre, which already counted among its casualties the single duck from day one along with the untold myriads, Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell called them, from days two and three and now day four. And Mrs. Phillip J. King said the idea of myriads, especially untold ones, won Mr. Alton and won Mr. Alton’s daddy over to Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell’s view of the matter since Mr. Alton and his daddy could not have known and did not know that the Gottliebs hadn’t felled anything after the initial day of the imbroglio and so were still working on a one-duck massacre.
The arbitration party, Mrs. Phillip J. King called it, rode round to the Gottlieb acre and a half in Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell’s European sedan and they were greeted, Mrs. Phillip J. King said though she did not mean greeted exactly, by a whole front yard crawling with Gottliebs in various stages of development and evolution and including the five duck brigade Gottliebs who were positioned on day four of the imbroglio pretty much as they had been on day two except for Granddaddy Gottlieb who on account of the vast improvement in his posterior condition had left his bed in the house and so was sitting on a feather pillow in a straight-backed chair with is comforter wrapped loosely around his shoulders. Of course Granddaddy Gottlieb was in possession of his homemade filed-down rifle barrel pistol, the muzzle of which protruded between the folds of the comforter, and big Buster himself was in possession of the rifle, which lay across the tops of his thighs with the bolt open, while it was Dale’s turn to have at the shotgun, which left little Buster free to pick at his toes and gave J.G. the leisure to squat atop his no. 10 can and spit at ants with his head down between his legs. So what Mrs. Phillip J. King called the Gottlieb vanguard appeared on day four almost exactly as it appeared on day two but in actuality things were considerably different since the Gottliebs were almost entirely out of ammunition and about as far gone in patience. Granddaddy Gottlieb had only five rounds left for his pistol while big Buster’s shirtpocket held the three remaining rifle shells and the shotgun was loaded with the last two cartridges, one of which was filled with buckshot while the other was filled with salt and so left Dale the opportunity to obliterate a duck with the one barrel or season him with the other. Consequently, the Gottliebs were not altogether displeased at the sight of Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell’s European sedan complete with two Nances since they had been sufficiently humiliated by ducks already and invited the chance to tangle with people for awhile.
Mr. Alton’s daddy was the first one out of the car and across the oiled road to the Gottlieb acre and a half where he said his hellos to big Buster and Granddaddy Gottlieb and the Gottlieb boys, and he was followed by Mr. Alton, who was followed by Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell and Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell’s brother’s boy, Lyle. “You remember my son, Mr. Nance,” Mr. Alton’s daddy said, mostly to big Buster, “and this is my attorney, Mr. Glidewell, and my attorney’s aid, Mr. Glidewell.”
“Mr. Nance. Mr. Glidewell. Mr. Glidewell,” big Buster said, twitching his head at each one of them in turn. And then he pretty much pointed his topnotch at Granddaddy Gottlieb and said, “This here is my daddy, Mr. Gottlieb, and them over there are three of my wife’s children, Mr. Gottliebs too.”
“Pleasure,” Mr. Glidewell said.
“Pleasure,” Mr. Glidewell’s brother’s boy, Lyle, said.
“Uh huh,” big Buster said back at them.
“Of course we’ve come about the ducks, Mr. Gottlieb,” Mr. Alton’s daddy began. “We’d like to work out some sort of settlement and so put an end to the ... to the ...”
“Bloodshed,” Mr. Wade Shorty Glidewell provided and which was followed almost immediately by a sharp “Ha!” from J.G. who never raised his head from between his legs to say it. “I have discussed the matter thoroughly with Mr. Nance sr. and his son, Mr. Nance jr.,” Mr. Glidewell continued, “and after exhaustive considerations we have concluded upon a mutually beneficial compromise.”
“That so,” big Buster said.
“Yes sir,” Mr. Glidewell told him, and Mrs. Phillip J. King said Mr. Alton and Mr. Alton’s daddy drew in a little tighter around Mr. Glidewell since they did not recall any exhaustive considerations themselves and so wanted to hear firsthand just what variety of compromise they’d become a party to. “Of course,” Mr. Glidewell set in, “it is not Mr. Nance’s desire to take this issue into the courts.”
“I don’t guess it is,” big Buster said back to him, “since as far as I know they ain’t yet made the law that keeps a man from sitting in his own front yard and shooting his own gun at anybody’s ducks.”
“Yes, well, be that as it may, Mr. Nance has kindly agreed to defer all legal proceedings in the hope that an equitable compromise outside of the courtroom might render any future confrontations unnecessary.”
And big Buster looked at Granddaddy Gottlieb and then looked at Dale and then looked at little Buster and then looked at J.G., who was still spitting on ants with his head between his legs. “Whut is it we get?” he said when he finally decided to look at Mr. Glidewell again.
BOOK: A Short History of a Small Place
13.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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