Whisker of Evil (17 page)

30

T
uesday after work, Harry nimbly walked along the spine of her new shed roof. Fair, Blair, Paul, Susan, Tazio, and BoomBoom, who was able to help today, stuck to their promise to help. The T-111 siding with batten added for looks had yet to be painted, and it emitted a fresh lumber odor. Harry had splurged on a standing seam tin roof. Mrs. Murphy trotted behind Harry, since she wasn't afraid of heights either.

Tazio, Paul, Blair, and Susan taped the seams of the Sheetrock inside Harry's workroom. She'd put in insulation and a small gas flame stove that looked just like a wood-burning fireplace, which she carefully vented. Harry wanted to experiment in the coming winter to see if gas heat was effective and if it was cheaper. She was very interested in the cost of operating the stove. If it worked she might put one in her bedroom, since that side of the house was bitterly cold in wintertime. Also, if the power cut out, she'd still have heat.

Paul couldn't live without music. His boom box played Latino tunes. Harry almost always worked in silence so she could listen to every animal around her, the wind come up, whatever, but she found she liked Paul's music. And she liked Paul.

Tucker sprang to her feet, followed by Brinkley. They ran down the drive.

“Intruder!”
Tucker announced.

Brinkley asked,
“How do you know it's an intruder?”

“I don't, but I have to do my job, you know.”

Pewter, who had joined Mrs. Murphy on the roof, observed the Lab's one stride to Tucker's three. She started to giggle.

Mrs. Murphy's eyes followed Pewter's gaze and she giggled, too.
“Let's just say that Tucker can turn inside Brinkley. You've got to give her that.”

“I do,”
Pewter replied.
“Here comes Tavener. It's about time he buys himself a new truck.”

Equine and cattle vets could easily rack up forty thousand miles a year in Virginia making calls. A very good vet, which Tavener was, would cover his own county and adjoining counties, plus he would be called out of state for special consulting jobs. On any given day Tavener or Fair might find themselves down at Blacksburg at Virginia Tech or up at Leesburg at the Marion duPont Scott Equine Center, two outstanding hospital facilities.

Tavener's Ford, a 1996 diesel engine, labored with over 320,000 miles on the speedometer. Strong as a work truck is, sooner or later the owner is going to pour money into brakes, clutch cables, maybe even a replaced piston. Tavener wasn't cheap, but he'd get attached to a vehicle and then complain bitterly if he had to adjust to a new one, because there was always something different. He did not regard items like air bags or wishbone suspension as improvements.

The two dogs stopped as the truck pulled up to the shed.

Tucker, wishing to teach the young Lab, who had just turned a year old, said,
“Never take your eyes off the human until your human indicates it's okay.”

“But it's Tavener.”

“That doesn't matter, Brinkley. The only people you don't guard are family members or best, best friends. For instance, I wouldn't stare down Susan. But I even follow BoomBoom until Harry says ‘Hello' or something. A dog can't be too careful. And you have to remember—I know I keep repeating this to you—human senses are dull. It's not just their eyes or nose, but they shut down their feelings. They miss so much.”

“That doesn't make much sense.”
The yellow Lab wagged his tail as Tavener smiled at them.

“Don't tell me you're going to break a sweat.” Fair, who'd just come up on the roof, laughed as he looked down at his colleague.

“You're right.” Tavener laughed, too.

“There's room up here on the roof. I don't want you to feel lonesome down there. I'm checking the crimping on the seams,” Harry called to him as the other people stuck their heads out of the workroom to greet the genial vet.

“Okay, now we can tag along.”
Tucker bounced up to Tavener, who scratched her ears.

“Keeping everyone in line, Tucker?” Tavener sternly regarded her.

“Indeed.”

“Me, too.”
Brinkley offered a paw.

“Dog's are so-o-o obsequious.”
Pewter sniffed.

“They can't help it, Pewter. They're pack animals. So are humans. It's why they get along like they do,”
Mrs. Murphy sagely noted.

Pewter shrugged, a thinly disguised air of superiority.
“Well, not everyone can be a cat.”

“Hey, look at that.”
Mrs. Murphy quickly walked to the edge of the roof, turned around, and backed down the ladder.

Tavener had lifted from the back of his truck a long, thin package wrapped in butcher paper. A verdigris pole could be seen sticking out from the bottom.

Harry hurried down the ladder, Pewter perched on her shoulders. Pewter could back down a ladder if she had to; she did it in the barn often enough, but that ladder was nailed to the wall. Under these circumstances, hitching a ride with Harry was preferable.

“Harry, you need this.” Tavener beamed as he handed her the package.

She knelt down, carefully placing it on the grass, and the others gathered around. Fair finally climbed off the roof to join in.

“Oh, Tavener. This is just about perfect.” Harry stood up and hugged him.

“A cat weather vane!”
Mrs. Murphy thought this an excellent present.

The hunt horses, curious, watched from the paddock.

Gin Fizz said,
“Don't get the big head, pussycats.”

“You have your weather vane on the barn,”
Pewter sang out.
“We do just as much work in the barn as anyone.”

“Pewter, how can you lie like that and keep a straight face?”
Tomahawk sounded stentorian.

The other horses laughed, including the broodmares who had come up from the adjoining paddock.

“What about me?”
Tucker cocked her head.
“I protect every animal on this farm.”

“You're right.”
Brinkley was very sympathetic.

Tavener, as if understanding, opened the passenger door to his truck and lifted out a three-by-three-foot hand-painted sign. Against a Charleston green background was Tucker's head, a beautiful likeness. A thin red and gold pinstripe border was painted one inch from the edge of the sign. And underneath Tucker's likeness, neatly lettered in Roman bold, was,
DEATH FROM THE ANKLES DOWN!

Harry laughed so hard, Fair had to catch her under the armpits before she fell over.

“Wherever . . . ?” BoomBoom fell in love with the sign.

“Tree Street Signs over in Stuart's Draft. Course, there's Burruss in Charlottesville. Those are the two best, but I've grown fond of the group over in Stuart's Draft. I couldn't resist! Harry, you need to warn any newcomer of your security system.” He laughed heartily.

“We've got to get one for Herb for his anniversary.” Susan clapped her hands together. “How about his two cats with halos over their heads?”

“Susan, do you think all the parishioners will like that?” Tazio wondered.

“Oh, look, if you're going to be a Lutheran you might as well have a sense of humor. Anyone who tries to understand centuries of dogma better get a grip,” Susan forthrightly replied.

Paul laughed and shrugged. “I'm Catholic.”

“And whatever Little Mim is at the moment, I am. We're leaning toward refurbished Episcopalianism.” Blair admired the sign. “Harry, do you want this hanging as a sign by the back door, or do you want it on the side of the house by the back door?”

“Hanging.” She couldn't get over how delightful these gifts were. She hugged Tavener again, giving him a big kiss on the cheek.

“Luckily, we've got a four-by-four left over. Bet I can build you a pretty signpost in no time,” Fair volunteered.

“How about a Coke or a beer or something?” Harry offered Tavener.

“Beer. You wouldn't have any St. Pauli Girl in there, would you?”

Susan handed him one. “You know, you and I ought to buy stock in the brewery.”

“Good idea.” Tavener took a deep pull. “I came bearing gifts, but I came with a mission. Alicia and I have been talking.” Tavener paused for a moment. “Alicia and Big Mim have agreed. Oh, Herb has agreed. And Harry, finding the ring started all of this, really. Got me to thinking. What would Mary Pat have loved best? So many things crossed my mind, but you know, I hit on the right one. I hit on the thing that would have made her so proud. If all of us put in some money, whatever you can afford, we could create a scholarship in Mary Pat's name to be awarded each year to a senior graduating from Holy Cross and going on to college. Mim says she knows how to set it up so our money will make money in the stock market. This way we only have to give once.” He held up his hand. “She swears she knows how to do this. But I want all of us who benefited from Mary Pat's kindness to pitch in.”

“That's all of Crozet.” Susan smiled. “Ned and I will certainly be part of it.”

The others agreed, even Paul and Tazio.

“But you all never knew her,” Harry said.

“We can give a little something,” Paul said. “A scholarship, that's special.” He asked Tavener, “What would the student have to do?”

“Oh, not so much
do
but
be
. A leader. A good student, maybe not the best student but good. I was thinking maybe it would be a young person who was planning a career in the equine industry.”

“She'd love that,” Harry enthused.

Pewter had heard enough about all this.
“Let's put the weather vane on the shed.”

No one paid much mind.

“Sit on the weather vane,”
Mrs. Murphy counseled.

Pewter, with much ceremony, plopped on the pretty metal cat.

Harry reached down and picked her up, making a large groaning noise that Pewter did not find amusing.

Fair lifted up the weather vane. “I'm going to put this right up.”

“Told you,”
Mrs. Murphy bragged.

“Before you get back up on the ladder, Jerome been bugging you, too?” asked Tavener.

“I can't turn around without bumping into him.” Fair laughed. “I could kill him.”

“Me, too, and not feel a twinge of guilt. He overstepped the line. He called the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta, and in the process of asking for information about rabies, where had it shown up this spring and so forth, he apparently told them we have a human epidemic.”

“What?” Fair's jaw dropped.

“Bill Langston called me and said his phone has been ringing off the hook.”

“What does it mean exactly?” Paul inquired. “That he called the Centers for Disease Control?”

“For one thing, the state veterinarian will be here tomorrow.” Tavener sighed. “A good man, but we're all busy as can be and he's going to want to see each of us. And for another thing, the head of Public Health will get his butt over from Richmond, and might I remind you this is an election year. He'll chew out the county health officials, all of whom properly did their jobs. God only knows what will happen if some genius candidate gets hold of this. Remember years ago”—he directed this to Harry, Fair, Susan, and BoomBoom—“when old Richard Deavers went crackers? For you all”—he indicated Blair, Tazio, and Paul—“Richard Deavers had money, and when he lost his mind he decided that humans were abusing animals because they didn't wear clothes. They were ashamed of their nakedness just like we were when expelled from the Garden of Eden. Anyway, to make a long story short, he must have spent hundreds of thousands of dollars trying to get legislation passed that would force us to put clothes on cats, dogs, horses, cattle, and so on. Some people believed him. Some of them put a new twist on it: nakedness encouraged human immorality. My God, what a mess. We finally voted it down as a state—not local, mind you, but state—referendum. Well, we could be in for something that ridiculous if Jerome Stoltfus isn't sat down hard.”

31

N
o!” Harry uttered the forbidden word through clenched teeth. “No, I won't do it.”

Southerners are taught from infancy a variety of ways to decline without saying no outright. It's considered bad manners to be so blunt. Furthermore, anyone who forces you into a true D no—a true D being a Southern expression that means the ultimate—is forever despised by you. They should know better. If they're a Northerner, who prizes directness, they are doubly despised, first because they pushed you and second because they lack all subtlety and don't appreciate same.

Miranda's eyes about popped from her head. Her hand flew to her mouth.

“Now, Harry, you can understand that these are unusual circumstances.” Pug Harper's voice remained genial.

Having heard the no, Pug, born and bred in Albemarle County, knew he had mortally offended one of his best people.

Jerome Stoltfus knew it also, but he didn't care. “I spent this whole Wednesday morning with the state veterinarian and people from the Health Department. Can't be having pets in public places.”

Pug wanted to smash Jerome. “Harry, this will all calm down. Just for the next few weeks.”

Jerome flared up. “Few weeks, hell. Animals got no place in a federal building. Says neither rain, nor sleet, nor snow or whatever will keep you from your appointed rounds. Doesn't say anything about cats and dogs. From the looks of it, that fat gray thing couldn't even get to the corner, much less your appointed rounds.”

“I resent that!”
Pewter spat.

Mrs. Murphy, sitting next to Pewter in the mail cart, concurred.
“Jerome, we can scratch your eyes out before you know what hit you.”

“And I can bite you until you bleed!”
Tucker, standing foursquare in front of Harry, meant every word.

“That dog's growling at me. That dog's vicious. I can impound Tucker, you know.”

“For Christ's sake, Jerome,” Pug, at the end of his rope, hissed, “there has never been a vicious Pembroke corgi in the history of man!”

This stopped Jerome for a moment.

“Pug, I like you. I think you are a fine postmaster, and the volume of mail in this county has tripled in the last five years. You've done a wonderful job coping with that, plus the federal rules, which would stop Einstein. But I am not removing Mrs. Murphy, Pewter, and Tucker from the post office. I mean it.” Harry put her hands on her hips.

“Then I'll write you a citation.” Jerome smacked his hands together.

“Will you kindly shut up!” Pug raised his voice. “Harry, Richmond's in an uproar. The damned media will get their teeth into the story. Crozet, Rabies Capital of America.” He sighed.

“I gave Jerome my paperwork. Dr. Shulman can vouch for the splendid health of my family. I won't do it.”

“I can put you in jail. I can impound your animals. You have contempt for public health. For the public good.” Jerome was on a roll.

Pug wheeled on him, but Miranda intervened. “This is dicey. We can all see that, but, Pug,” she lowered her voice, “you are going to muster out these two little kitties and this adorable and very helpful puppy when the new building is completed, aren't you?”

Pug blanched. “Now, I didn't say that but, well, there will be a new set of workers, you know, and if Harry brings her animals they'll want to bring theirs. It will be like a zoo.”

“It's against the law.” Jerome, not necessarily relishing Harry's discomfort, finally was in a position of some power. It went right to his head.

Harry, in control of herself, said quite calmly, “Pug, I guess I knew this was coming.”

“But that won't be for at least seven months, given building delays—you know how that is—a year. But for now, take these guys home, will you?”

“For good.” Jerome snapped his lips shut, the lower one slightly jutting outward.

Harry looked at Miranda, whose eyes brimmed with sympathy, then she turned back to Pug. “I'm afraid you're going to have to run the P.O. today. I quit.”

“Me, too.” Miranda scooped up Pewter as Harry picked up Mrs. Murphy.

Tucker, thrilled, strutted in front of the humans as they walked out the back door.

“Aren't you going to fire her?” Jerome prodded.

“Fire her? She just quit, you complete and utter asshole!” Pug clenched his fists. He wanted to smash in Jerome's face.

Jerome took a step backward. “She'll be crawling back. She'll be here tomorrow. She has to work for a living. What would she do without the post office?”

“You don't know Harry very well, do you?” The square-built man jammed his hands in his pockets. “She won't be back. She won't ask for her job back, and you just cost me one of my very best people. She's never late for work. She's never even missed a day's work, and neither has Miranda. You don't find people like that every day.”

Jerome shrugged. “She was breaking the rules.”

“We've got too many rules in this damned country, and you know why, Jerome? So assholes like you can get a job enforcing them. God knows, no one else would hire your sorry ass. Now, if you need your mail, pick it up. Otherwise, get out of my sight before I lose all semblance of restraint.”

Jerome skedaddled out the front door.

Harry slid behind the wheel of her truck, parked at the rear of the small brick building.

“Move over,” Miranda ordered her.

“Why?”

“I'm driving.”

“Why?”

“You're too upset to drive. I don't want you to have an accident. Go on, move over.”

It wasn't until that exact moment that Harry realized how much Miranda loved her. She burst into tears.

“Ah, Mom, it will be okay.”
Mrs. Murphy, on her hind paws, put her front paws on Harry's shoulders.

Pewter licked Harry's left hand, while Tucker licked her right hand.

“Home?”

“Fair's.”

Miranda turned over the old 1978 Ford, the V-8 engine rumbling deep, pleasing notes. The old pickup was running on its eleventh set of tires, fourth set of brakes, third clutch cable, and a brand-new exhaust and muffler. Ran like a top.

Within ten minutes, Miranda pulled into Haristeen Equine Clinic.

Harry noticed a white truck with the state emblem on the side. “Miranda, I think the state vet is here. I'd better not bother him.”

Just then the state vet, a tall man, not much more than thirty-four, ambled out and climbed into his truck.

When he drove off, Harry and Miranda walked into the clinic, and Harry no sooner saw Fair than she started bawling.

“Skeezits, what's wrong?” Fair hurried over to her, calling Harry by an old nickname, wrapping his strong arms around her.

“Quit,”
Pewter succinctly said.

Miranda spoke since Harry couldn't at that moment. “Oh, Fair, that Jerome Stoltfus has opened Pandora's box. What a mess. He's got everyone in an uproar, and Pug Harper came into the post office with Jerome. He told Harry the kitties and doggy had to go. For a time. But then I asked him if that wasn't really going to be permanent when the new building was up. He said as much.”

“I won't work without my babies,” Harry wailed.

“Are we babies?”
Tucker thought for a moment.

“Tucker, she's upset. We're her partners and friends,”
Mrs. Murphy reasonably said.

“I won't. I quit. I can't live like that, Fair. I know millions of people get up, go to offices, sit in front of computer screens, but I've only got this one life and it may be kind of a small life but, still, it's my life. I'm not living like that. I want to be with my animals and I want”—she caught her breath, then said with vigor—“to be outside. Working in the post office was too much inside as it was.”

“I understand.” He held her tight. “Miranda, what about you?”

Alma, Fair's secretary, discreetly stayed behind the reception desk.

“I quit, too.” Miranda smiled broadly. “Times are changing.”

“Guess they always were. I mean, I guess someone thought that in fifth century
B
.
C
.” Harry was recovering.

Alma softly inquired, “Mrs. Haristeen, could I fetch you some water or coffee?”

“Alma.” Harry wiped her eyes. “I would love a Co-Cola. I think I cried myself into dehydration.”

“Come on, let's sit down.” Fair propelled her to the sofa.

Miranda followed.

“You've got patients.” Harry felt guilty.

“My patients are in good shape today.” He sat next to her as Alma handed her an ice-cold Coke and a glass of ice.

She returned to give Miranda one and then Fair.

“Thank you, honey.” Miranda poured the bubbling liquid over the ice cubes, which crackled in the glass.

“I'll wring his neck. I mean it. I will cut him off at the knees!” Harry was returning to form.

“I'll snap off his fingers.”
Tucker puffed out her white chest.

“Jerome or Pug?” Fair smiled.

“Jerome.”

“You'll have to take a number and stand in line. You should have heard Tavener on the phone about an hour ago. And you know how Tavener can talk. I think he'll put a contract out on Jerome. Said he wasn't worth going to jail over but he needs killing just the same.” Fair laughed.

Harry took a deep breath. “Miranda, I'm sorry I got you into this.”

“Actually, you didn't. I've seen enough of the post office. George was frugal. He left me enough to garden and put gas in the car, visit my sister once a year. It was time for a change.”

A wave of fear washed over Harry. “Oh, my God, I've got four mares to feed plus my guys.”

“Half those mares are mine. Now, look, don't worry and don't do anything rash. Everything's going to work out.”

“I'm not going back.”

“I didn't say that you were. And,” he smiled, “there will be four well-bred yearlings to go to the sales next year, God willing. Everything's going to be all right.”

“God bless Sugar Thierry.” Miranda sighed.

“What was going on with Tavener?” Harry's curiosity flooded back, pushing out her upset.

“Media. As the senior vet, the television crews from Channel Twenty-nine, Six, and even one from D.C. have camped out on his doorstep. After leaving him, they plagued Hayden and Bill. The problem with TV is they can edit out the important material and go for the jugular. Tavener, Hayden, and Bill aren't going to fan the flames of panic. People will go out and shoot any stray animal they see and, for all I know, one another. I know everyone's been reasonable and responsible, but it scares me how it will come out on the tube.”

“Aren't you due for another rabies shot?” Miranda asked Harry.

“Next week.” Harry finished off her Coke, the caffeine and sugar improving her mood. “Fair, thanks. I'm sorry to barge in. Thanks, Alma,” she called to her.

“No problem.” Alma stood up from behind the reception desk.

“Think you'll help out Pug?” Fair cleared his throat.

“Well, it's never good to storm off like that. I should give notice but I can't take the kids. So I'll call him. I can give him some names and—well, he has them, anyway, people who can fill in. But I'm not going in.”

“Okay.” Fair nodded.

“And I won't, either,” agreed Miranda. “All the years I gave that post office. George was named postmaster in 1962. And you know, I enjoyed it and I was so glad to come back in when Harry took over after George's death. But I meant it when I said times are changing, and I suppose every person has to decide whether to change with the times or not.” She placed her glass on the coaster. “It's time for me to do something different. I'm like Harry: I think things are too overregulated. When you think of the time we all waste on nonproductive labor, it's amazing anything of significance ever gets accomplished.”

“Amen,” Alma called from behind the desk.

“Honey, I'll come over after work tonight. I'll bring sushi,” Fair told Harry.

“Hooray!”
Pewter leapt up on the coffee table and turned a circle.

“Okay.” Harry brightened.

Miranda drove Harry to her farm, then stayed there to garden while Harry painted her shed. She'd built scaffolding, which speeded the process since she could walk from end to end at the top. The bottom half she could paint while standing on the ground. She liked painting, because she saw an instant result. This instant result was gray since she was methodically putting on primer.

“Harry, your phone is off the hook in the tack room, it's ringing so much.” Miranda called out from the rose beds.

“I know. I'll call everyone later. Needed to think. Oh, by the by, as soon as you're ready let me run you home.”

“In good time.”

Susan, BoomBoom, Tazio, Little Mim, Big Mim, and even Aunt Tally, furious at not reaching Harry by phone, all came down the drive within the next hour.