Читать книгу Poor Banished Children of Eve - Welby T Cox - Страница 8

Monday morning did not come soon enough at Powell River. Even though Heinz and I enjoyed being with each other, we had plenty to eat, lots of fresh air and exercise and took the golf cart to the little village to the city park were we played fetch with the new rubber ball. I threw the ball and Heinz tried to catch it before it hit the ground. He was a remarkable outfielder, never missing the ball once and had energy to spare.

But this morning I was anxious to see if there were messages from Max or mail from Princepe’. Stranger still, when I arrived at the camp office, there was another new face.

“Good morning, I’m Colonel Brandon Simpson.”

“Yes, Colonel Sir, how may I help you?”

“Is Kiah off today?”

“Oh, yes sir, she is not here.”

“Back tomorrow, then?”

“Forgive me please, I am new today and I know no one, except the manager whom you may speak with?”

“No need to bother him, are you able to check for mail or messages?”

She did so quickly and I departed as quickly.

At the last moment before closing the door, I said to her, “I’ll be taking the cart to town.”

Heinz and I took off on our morning routine. He didn’t know, nor did he care were we were headed. He sat in the back seat with his nose in the air, sniffing out any manner of friend or foe, which only he would know. In another life I believe he could have been The Buddha…there was no need to speak…think it and wait, an answer would return in the same fashion.

I remember once while in Jaipur, “You may not know of it Heinz.” I said over my shoulder, but it is located in northwest India, in a town, which contains about fifteen thousand square miles. For your information, it is quite hilly and contains desert area in the north and west though it is very fertile in the south and east.

A Rajput chief founded the town of Jaipur in the 12th century and it was responsible for supplying many famous fighters, colonels like me to the Mogul empire. The town of Jaipur remained as it was, content with its own custom for seven hundred years until the British came along in 1818 and placed Jaipur under its protection.

In any event, while there in 1917, I happened along its main street, which is quite wide to accommodate the cattle, which are sacred in India, and many vendors display their wares as they sit beneath their umbrellas, catching the smell of curry in the air. “I doubt you would enjoy the seasoning Heinz, it is not my favorite, and bad for sex.”

One man sitting there on the plazas… brewing tea, and, as it was past my teatime, I looked at it and I pointed. Well Heinz, you would have thought I had farted; the man came unglued, waving his hands resolutely and speaking in an exaggerated manner. I’ll tell you Heinz, it was disquieting as a crowd gathered, and he said to me, “Sahib you have looked at my tea…and, most egregiously sir, you have also pointed at it…now, sir, I must throw it into the curb and I must scour the pot, causing me to be late for tea, and for work.”

With all the Indians looking on and loudly voicing their opinions, I made the suggestion as I brought my wallet (the crowd went, ‘ah’) into view for all to see…”Quite honorable sir,” I opined.

“Kindly permit me to acquire the pot and the tea?” I could see ... the crowd was clearly on my side of the issue. I produced a crisp five dollar bill in good faith, and offered it to the offended Indian…he appeared even more distraught.

I replaced the five dollar bill and produced a ten…there was a sound of astonishment…(whooo) as the Indian smiled, displaying only one tooth in front, he snatched the ten dollars and handed me the pot with the tea. I smiled, saluted him with my middle finger and offered tea to those with cups.

************

Our first stop was at the sheriff’s office to see Deputy Bill Cover, and found him busy at his desk.

“Good morning sheriff.”

“Colonel, sir, how may I help you?”

“With your permission sir, I should like to move my quarters from the camp to the Guest House in town?”

“May I ask why you wish to move?”

“Of course, first of all I must have access to a land line for calls to my employer and my lawyer…you know for privacy purposes. Secondly, it would place me closer to this office in the event you need me and lastly with the charge hanging over my head, I am not comfortable living in the place where the charges have emanated.”

“Quite reasonable issues Colonel, I’ll make the request of my superior and you may check back with me in a couple of hours.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“No, thank you Colonel, sir…by the way how is Heinz getting on?”

“Heinz is terrific; we’re off to the vet for a check-up, teeth cleaning and bath.”

“Probably needs it, but you know we’ll be collecting him in a couple of days.”

“There is no hurry sheriff and I’m sure the county won’t mind ... I am paying for his keep?”

Heinz was happy to see me. Somehow I got the feeling ... he sensed something was in the air, a change was on the wind which would not be pleasant for him. Looking at him, I knew I must find a way to make him a permanent part of my life. Heinz was not a happy camper when I took him into the vet’s office. He looked at me with those huge dark brown eyes in the most disparaging way, as if to say, “Thought we were pals?” Forgive me Heinz ... it appears to be a word you do not understand…it means to devalue as in; “I do not wish to disparage the bouillabaisse, which is a dish for heroes.” (A.T. Quiller) as though I had deceived him.

“We have an appointment for Heinz.” I felt bad and as she looked for his file, I tried to reason with him by just saying…It’s in you best interest.”

“Sorry, sir, but what did you say?”

“Oh, I was just reassuring Heinz.”

“Yes, sir…are you the new owner?”

“Sure wish it was so, but I’m fond of him and watching him for the sheriff’s office for a couple of days. Do you know Heinz?”

“Yes, we’ve taken care of him since he was a puppy…you know for shots and such.”

“He seems to be quite healthy.”

“He ought to be since Dr. Weisiger owns the mother and, Heinz at one time.”

“You don’t say?” What a small world I thought.

I left Heinz in capable hands and walked to the Guest House, which was conveniently located in downtown Powell River, across the street from a lovely little city park were a man selling roasted peanuts, danced while his monkey played a tiny organ. It was all so surreal, like a town from another time zone.

There were a couple of small family owned restaurants, a theatre with a pair of doors with pearl handled pistols as the doorknobs. Men and women’s apparel shops, a hardware, the post office and an old time apothecary with its own soda fountain. The town appeared to be the right match.

Stepping into the lobby of the Guest House, I knew I was at home. The floors were Italian marble and shinned like the bottom on a newborn baby.

The walls, up to the wainscoting were made from a fine cherry wood and above the centerline, the most understated wallpaper, which resembled fine art. There were at least half-a-dozen original local primitives and beyond the management’s desk, there were massive staircases leading to the second floor on either side of the lobby.

There was a small coffee shop with a bar in the center and the registry sat to the left. The lobby provided the ground floor for an atrium extending four floors to a roof garden for patrons wishing to sun bathe in the summer. There were four large Italian leather sofas, so arranged to provide a casual connection for the patrons to converse. Additionally, there were four matching overstuffed chairs placed at the corner of each sofa…for women travelling alone I thought. On the wall near the coffee shop and bar there were two small tables with two chairs each for patrons seeking coffee while enjoying the daily papers of the world.

“My name is Colonel Brandon Simpson and I am inquiring as to the availability of a suite?”

“For what day, Colonel, sir?”

“Today!”

“And for how many days?”

“Perhaps for two weeks.”

She glanced at her list, there were twelve suites and she saw two remained open, one on the second floor and one on the fourth.

“How many will there be in the suite, sir?”

“Two, myself and Heinz.”

“Two gentlemen then. Will you require a king or two doubles?”

“Heinz prefers the floor.”

“Yes, I’ve read ... something substantial is best for the back.”

“Heinz takes his meals on the floor as well…from a bowl…uses no cutlery.” The young woman looked at me in total consternation, confused and distressing excitement over a man with a friend who slept on the floor and took his meals as well, on the floor while eating with his fingers.

“May I see the suite?”

“Certainly.” She rang for the concierge. I heard a thumping sound and a man appeared hopping toward the desk on one leg. “Mr. Robquest will show you the suite, sir.”

“I’ll follow you, sir.” I said wondering how he would make the stairs.

“Ship shape, Colonel!”

The man hopped along until he came to a well-disguised lift. It had an iron cage fronting the door, the lift hardly held two people. We took it to the fourth floor with Robquest leading the way to the corner suite were he unlocked the door. He hopped across the suite to the window and threw open the large French doors to a small balcony…and in the distance the village of Powell River with the park across the street, were Heinz would run and catch the ball to the dismay of the registry clerk, and the monkey playing the organ.

The suite was perfect, at five hundred dollars per night in Venice during the off-season. Location, location…and this wasn’t Venice. The daily rate was considerably less than the Venetian rate. It was two rooms with a large master suite; king sized bed and marbled bath made for a man. It also had a shower with a seat for washing the feet, as well as other southern parts. The front room contained a lovely sitting area with a table in the center of the room for meals. There was also a small sofa with coffee table and two side chairs, as well as a secretary’s desk and chair.

Robquest closed the doors to the balcony when it appeared I was finished with my appraisal. I thanked him as we took the lift back to the lobby and handed him a tip, which he accepted graciously, and then he hopped away.

I reserved the suite, left two smiling, nodding heads, and went to the apothecary. It was similar in style to the Guest House, utilizing marble floors and a marble soda fountain, which was a good twelve feet covering an entire wall. It contained iron seats, which were attached to the fountain. Each seat had a red cushion with shoulder high backs, swiveled from side to side to get in and out, and was built to guarantee comfort while at the soda fountain. I ordered a strawberry shake and tuna on rye. The tuna was freshly made with just the right amount of mayo and onion with a hint of spices I did not recognize. The ladies serving at the fountain all wore freshly starched white lacy uniforms with small French aprons, which added a very quaint touch. They were clean, attractive and efficient. It reminded me of my boyhood favorite hangout in Louisville, Kentucky, The Colonaide at Fourth and Walnut. Lunch was terrific and provided the encore to the Guest House. To my delight, there were two private booths with public phones.

It was noon before I called Deputy Cover.

“Deputy, sir, this is Brandon Simpson.”

“Good, expecting to hear from you. The sheriff has no problem with your moving. Do you know where you’ll be staying?”

I wanted to say “The Hermitage” at Monte Carlo but I managed to restrain my weird sense of humor and answered instead, “The Guest House Inn.”

“Good choice, do try the coffee shop, they bake their own pies, I believe pecan this evening.” He said and I could hear in him ... he was a regular patron at the coffee shop. “By the way Colonel, I meant to tell you when you mentioned you were taking Heinz to the vet; the sheriff’s office does not have a budget for vet expenses.”

“No problem, it’s my treat for Heinz, and I discovered Dr. Weisiger is the breeder?”

“Yes ... it’s true.”

“Deputy Cover, would you think it out of place for me to try to purchase this dog, we have become quite attached, Heinz means a lot to me, but having said so, I would not want to do anything which might undermine the department, knowing the work you perform with Heinz is of vital safety to the community.”

“Colonel, the county doesn’t own Heinz, he was owned by Seg Maze, and you know dogs are funny. He may or may not work with a new guide. But if it’s going to be an issue ... you’ll have to address the estate of Seg Maze.”

“Thanks for the insight, deputy…speaking of the deceased, have you heard from the coroner?”

“No word, but I expect his report any day.”

“One final question, this may sound strange, but I was wondering if you knew of this family, the Maze’s…do you think they have the funds to handle his final expense?”

“Christian offer Colonel, Seg lived with his elderly mother, on government assistance, but I caution you, the offer is a sticky-wicket in lieu of the charges on you.”

“Yes, officer, I understand, thank you for your confidence, I’ll leave a message for you with my new coordinates.”

Now it was back to Dr. Weisiger to pick up Heinz. When I opened the door, Heinz was resting on the other side of the room.

“He’s been waiting for you.”

“Any problems.” I asked the attendant as I rubbed his ears and checked his clean teeth.

“Doc Weisiger says Heinz will live to be at least twenty and will make someone a great sire.”

“May I see Dr.Weisiger?”

“He was in surgery, but let me check for you.”

She was gone for less than five minutes; returning to show the Colonel into the doctor’s office. Heinz knew the way so I followed him…after all he is a pointer, I thought.

“Colonel Simpson, so happy to meet the man everyone is talking about.”

“The pleasure is all mine, sir and I regret ... my newly acquired persona may have given you the wrong impression of who I really am.”

“I read people fairly well… and is why I prefer dogs.”

“I won’t take much of your time.”

“I’ve finished the surgery, so I’m good.”

“You know I have been charged on the matter of the drowning of Seg Maze? Ridiculous charge, I never knew the man until the morning we went duck hunting.

You know Heinz discovered the body and sat with it for two days until he could get my attention. I believe as soon as the coroner’s report is in, the court will have to release me. There will be no signs of foul play, and Doctor, you know how smart this dog is? Why do you think he would have anything to do with me?”

“I believe this dog’s intuition can be trusted, Colonel.”

“The point is Heinz and I have bonded. His owner has passed, Heinz has no home and I am told Seg’s mother is elderly and relies on the government. I don’t know who will be responsible for the final expenses, but I was just wondering.”

“Yes, I see were you are going, and I believe it would be a good match and the resolution for what I am sure is a heavy burden for the widow, Maze.”

“I don’t want to do or say anything, which would give the wrong impression. I have tried, well you know how people talk, Doc, and my interest is solely in the welfare of Heinz.”

“Colonel Simpson, let me think on this for a couple of days, let’s see what happens to the coroner’s report. Where are you staying?”

“I am at the Guest House.”

“Great choice, check out the coffee shop, they make their own pies, tonight its pecan but Banana Crème is to die for.” Both men laughed knowingly.

I paid the vet bill and the nurse said she had never seen a black charge card.

I told her since General Officers were now minorities; the army had ordered the black cards to reflect the change of color. She did not laugh, and thought it made perfect sense.

I went back to the Guest House; it was now 2:00 EST. As usual, Heinz held down the cart and I gave him a nice bone for his patience.

“Good afternoon Colonel, how might I help you?”

I wondered if you could send a car to the Powell River Hunting and Fishing Club, since there does not appear to be a taxi in town?”

“Yes, sir, when will you want it?”

“Would 4:30 work for you?”

Heinz and I made the trip back in record time. I parked the cart and went to the office to pay my bill. Donald Simpson was on duty. He ran my card for the expense and noted the last name and commented…”Is Simpson a big name in America.”

“I’m not sure, except my family goes back to the late 1700’s when they came from Ireland.”

“By the way Colonel, Mr. Hayson is waiting to see you.” He picked up the phone and said, “The Colonel is here,” and then he asked if I would go back to the office.

I went to the office, were I had been before and pecked on the door, and heard, “Come in.”

The manager did not stand nor offer me a seat.

“Colonel, I have reason to believe ... you entered my office without authority, went through my files, removed and copied documents.” He said in a huff.

“I do not believe it is appropriate for us to have this discussion, sir. I have been admonished by counsel not to speak with anyone regarding a matter now before the court. I suggest, sir that you speak with the prosecution… if you will forgive me I must pack, or kick your ass…you decide?”

“Oh, going someplace?”

“I do not believe were or when I go is any of your business. I have paid my bill in full.” I turned as the manager stood there…not knowing whether to shit or pass water.

“You’ll…you’ll hear on this. He shouted at me angrily.

“Are you going to cry?” I asked smiling. “Get a grip, your days are numbered in this town.”