Bookmaker, The (11 page)

The drive up to Memphis was amazing. The weather was a balmy
eighty degrees and the top was down in the ‘65 Mustang. I drove at a leisurely pace along Highway 78, but at the same time, I was anxious to get there to pick up Jay. I took a look at myself in the rear view and assessed my nearly faded black eye—relieved it was gone, as Jay would have blown it out of proportion.

Jay was an easy sell. It was a first class ticket and a chance to see the operation and hear the old guys out. When I spoke to him on the phone the day before
, he told me he was considering a visit anyway. He said he was getting worried I might never come back, and he had to see for himself what was so alluring to keep me away from home. He went on about people asking about me—when and if I was coming back. But other than him and Wade, I didn’t feel I was leaving anything behind; it struck me as odd how little I cared about whether I ever went back home.

I pulled into the pick-up area and spotted him right away, he stood out amongst the huddled airport masses. To the travelers at Memphis International
, Jay Dresden couldn’t have been more conspicuous if he was wearing a clown costume, and I’m sure many people thought he was. He saw me with my window down and waved his colorfully sleeved arms. He was dressed in the usual: a white wife-beater and long, tan Dickies shorts with black socks pulled up to meet them, showing no leg-skin whatsoever. Jay didn’t mind the stares; never did. He just waved me in and gave me a big bear hug when I hopped out of the car.

He pulled back
. “What the fuck is this?” he asked, tugging at my Ole Miss jersey I wore as a joke.

“I’ve gone local
, my man,” I said, genuinely pleased to see that my best friend was really here.

“I don’t even know what team that is,” he said.

“Oh you will, man, you will, won’t have a choice.” I threw his duffel bag into the back seat and we sped off.

Jay had a big smile on his face as he took in the countryside. He was a city boy like me and this was all new to him.

“Nice ride,” he said, running his hand along the dash.

“Yeah
, it’s one of Preston’s.”

“One of…how many he got?”

“I don’t know, about seven or eight. Wait ‘til you see his place.”

“So where’d the money come from?”

“Not sure really, my guess would be family money and what you’re coming out here to help ‘em with.”

“So they really got a good thing going with their operation?”

“I’d say so—they don’t tell me much about it.”

“Well
, sounds like they’re gonna be telling me all about it real soon.”

“Yes
, it does,” I agreed.

Jay began rifling through his duffel bag and finally found what he was looking for. “Here
, pop this in. I brought it special for the trip,” he said, handing me a CD.

The Dead Kennedys
’
Holiday in Cambodia
blasted from the speakers. I could only laugh. It was good to have Jay with me in this foreign land.

“So how the fuck you been
, T?”

“It’s all good. I’m digging it out here, and you will to
o.”

“Yeah
, about that, are these guys serious? They got fields and fields of top quality weed and all I got to do is work it and they’ll pay me all that dough?”

“Both Preston and Matador are dead serious, this is their business and they need help. When you see the crops they’re bringing you in
to fix, you’ll see what’s cut out for you.”

Jay shuffled in his seat and stared
at the passing fields and said, “Fuck man, I can bring those plants back from the dead no problem—I’m like the Jesus of weed growing.”

“I know you are
, that’s why I told them you were the man. But hey, take it easy on the Jesus stuff out here; people are pretty sensitive here in the buckle of the Bible belt.”

“Jesus H. Christ,” he said
, lighting up a smoke. “Wait ‘til these Mississippi motherfuckers get a load of me.”

“By the way
, how’s Wade Boggs doing?” I asked.

“He’s as fat as ever. Don’t worry
, his food bowl is always full. I think he misses you though. He sleeps outside your closed door and scratches at it. He’s fucked up the carpet around the door.”

Then the thought occurred to me
. “Who’s watching him now?”

“Don’t sweat it
, man, Nate’s taking care of him,” he laughed.

“Nate…what the fuck
, man?”

“Just fucking with ya, Dayla’s gonna pop in and feed him and make sure he’s cool. She’s actually grown quite fond of the little shit. It’s gotten quite annoying.”

We drove along further, listening to the best of the Dead Kennedys.
Kill the Poor
was coming from the speakers. He told me I hadn’t missed much, although Bouncer Bruce did come by again, this time with Kendra. Jay finally answered the door and told him he hadn’t seen me in a while and didn’t know if he ever would again, and they hadn’t been back since. I told him about the house and the city and the football game, I left out my work with Preston and how I felt about Corynne.

Just as we were about to get off the highway and head into Oxford
, I thought of something else Jay needed to know before meeting everyone.

“By the way
, man, Preston’s sick, like at-death’s-door sick. He’s got ALS.”

“What’s that?”

“You ever heard of Lou Gehrig’s disease?”

“Yeah
, maybe, I remember the speech.” He then went into an echoed version of “
Today, I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth.”

“Yeah
, that’s the guy, but this is no joke, this is some serious shit. Basically his muscles are dying and there’s nothing he can do about it but watch ‘em go.”

“Fuck
, man….that sucks.”

“But he’s a proud
man and I don’t think he likes to acknowledge it, so I find it best just to ignore it as much as I can.”

“All right, thanks for the heads up. I’ll be cool,” he said
, then changed the subject. “Other than that, what are he and that Matador guy like?”

“They’re both pretty cool, you’ll see for yourself soon enough,” I said
, trying to put an end to the topic.

Jay got the hint and said, “Oh yeah, so how’s it going with the story, he tell you all about the murders?”

“That’s classified, my man.”

I turned onto University Ave. and drove past the college and through town.

Jay just stared out the window in awe. “Jesus Christ, man, this place looks like fucking Disneyland. I’ve never seen anything like it.” I proceeded to give him a quick tour as best I could, using the information I learned from Corynne.

The greeting at the Walker House was a familiar one—Matador, Corynne, and Delotta holding baby Tucker
, waiting for us on the front porch.

I introduced Matador
. “You’re almost how Trent described you,” he said, shaking his hand. “You ready to go get dirty?”

“I sure am
, sir; I’m itching to see your operation.”

Corynne was used to guys like Jay growing up in California. But the look on Delotta’s face was priceless—you would have thought I’d introduced her to a Martian.

“My my my, aren’t you colorful,” she said, trying to put on a good game face and be polite.

Jay was used to this reaction and played it smooth as always
. “Why, yes I am, ma’am, do you like it?”

Delotta looked him over real good
. “I’m not sure yet, you’re gonna have to give me some time to take you all in. Don’t get much like you around here…and I thought Trent was different.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you
, ma’am,” Jay said.

I looked down at Tucker and said, “And this little guy right here is my main man Tucker, the coolest little kid in the world.”

“How’s it going little man?” Jay asked, bending down to his level.

Tucker ran his hand along Jay’s arm and said, “Crayons…pretty.”

“Thanks, little buddy. I think T is right, you just might be the coolest kid in the world.”

Tucker handed Jay his toy helicopter and said, “Up, up, up
.” Jay picked him up, then quickly handed him back to Delotta.

Matador put his hand on Jay’s shoulder and said, “Let’s go up to Preston’s office and talk business, shall we?”

I followed them through the foyer and past the fountain and watched Jay’s mouth fall agape with astonishment. Up the twisting staircase, left down the hall, and straight toward Preston’s office, the double doors were open—Preston sat behind his desk and to his right was Jimmy Ray Upshaw, Esq. Matador stopped me at the door and said, “No offense, Trent, but you can sit this one out,” then handed me Jay’s duffel bag and shut the door.

I couldn’t help but feel a little left out as I headed to the guest house to drop off Jay’s bag. I was halfway across the lawn when Corynne caught up to me and asked me to take a walk with her. I dropped the bag at Jay’s door and followed her.

“So you know about Papa’s pride and joy now?” she asked with a grin.

“I assume you’re referring to the fields?”

“You know I am, silly, come on, let’s go out there.”

“Are you sure? I got cut up in the barbed wire the last time I tried to get there.”

“No, dum dum, there’s a path, come on.”

She led me to the far left side of the house where we met an ivy-covered wall. She searched around the thick leaves until she found a green camouflaged handle. She used her key and opened
a thick, creaking gate leading to a meandering dirt path cut through the trees. I stood there eyeing the path ahead, wishing I’d found it before I got all cut up.

“Come on
, slow poke,” she said, reaching out her hand. I grabbed it eagerly and I felt her electricity surge through me. We made the half-mile walk in no time. The smell grew stronger as we got closer, then I reminded her that she said she didn’t know what the smell was when I asked her before.

“Yeah, I lied. We weren’t so sure about you yet—we were waiting on Papa’s word. But your nosy ass found them all by yourself, aren’t you resourceful
?”

The crops looked more impressive coming through the trail—smelled better too. Corynne led me to a small hill that overlooked the fields and we sat down on the soft grass.

She sat Indian-style, facing me, and grabbed my hands. Her sun-soaked legs glowed in the waning afternoon light. God, I wanted to touch her soft warm skin, follow the sunlit line that beckoned the eye to follow up her skirt to the carnal bend where leg meets torso. I wanted to move toward her core, feel the heat emanate from beneath her panties.

“Trent, Trent, you in there, anyone home?” she asked
, breaking my daydream.

Then she met my eyes with an unwelcome sadness
. “You’re not going to leave here, are you?”

“No immediate plans. Why?”

She let go of my hands and then leaned back on hers, “I don’t know,” she said, searching for an answer. “Things have been better around here ever since you arrived.”

I leaned back on my hands in a copy-cat motion
. “That’s nice of you to say.”

“Well, yeah, it’s like you brought this…energy with you.”

“Energy?”

“I don’t know what to call it,
youth
might be a better word. Whatever it is, it’s what we needed around here. Ever since Papa got sick it’s been a sad place.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes watching the dragonflies swoop through the crops and the Japanese beetles buzzing around the purple and orange buds—they're big enough to frighten, but we knew they were harmless and actually quite beautiful. She smiled and played with the grass, while I took
the time to psyche myself up.

“Do it man…do it…you always puss out, and you always regret it. She’s given you more than enough signs. If she’s truly interested, she’s going to think you’re either gay or not into her. You don’t want either. Come on man, do something, say something—she called you out here for a reason.”

Overlooking the precipice of a leap I didn’t want to make, but had to, I closed my eyes, took a few steps back, and ran for the edge.

“Corynne, we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well since I’ve been here, right?

“Right,” she said, leaning forward and grabbing my hands again.

“Wow, this is harder than I thought,” I said aloud
, wishing I hadn’t.

“What is it? Talk to me.”

“I’m just gonna lay it on the line. I’ve fallen for you—you’re so easy to be with, so, so beautiful. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable, but it’s gone way past friendship with me.”

Her eyes welled up with tears, I didn’t know if this was going to be good or bad for me, but I went on the defensive just in case
. “Look, I know you may not feel the same way about me and that’s cool. We can still be friends, I promise. I just had to tell you what I’ve been feeling. I had to get it off my chest.”