Elmore reached out, hooked a handful of the warm cookies off the top of the bucket. He distributed them to Mick and Nuala and kept a few for himself, sort of a handling fee.
Ryan extended a big hand, fingers wiggling. Ryan: Share, boyo. Bill: My ass. He was speaking more distinctly now, and backed off from the beckoning paw. Bill: Go gitcher own, shit-for-brains. Ryan slipped a long are around Jade and pulled her up against him. Ryan: Speakin' of brains, lad, ye couldn't blow ye're own nose if your brains were black powder. Mick: But you like C-4, Da. Ryan smiled serenely down at the boy. Mick was liberally coated in chocolate, ketchup, cotton candy and lemonade. Bees buzzed along behind the stroller, greatly interested. Jade was mumbling about taking the both of them to the nearest ladies room and hosing them down. In any case, Mick and Nuala were bound to be vilely ill before the day was out. All that was in the future. Ryan was merely responding to the title the child had unconsciously given him. Ryan and Jade were making a steady transition from Aunt and Uncle to Mum and Da. Ryan: That I do, boyo, that I do. But d'ye think the good Lord would waste a lovely thing like C-4 on Uncle Bill, now? Mick glanced uneasily at Bill. Uncle Bill could throw a stone and hit anything within range of his powerful arm. Mick had learned to appreciate this ability. Also, Uncle Bill had cookies. Needless to say, not a man to antagonize. Nuala: Uncle Elmore says when Uncle Bill farts it sounds like somethin' blew up. Jade: What brought that on? Bill: Later for you, boy. Elmore: Yeah, yeah. Elmore didn't sound the least bit concerned for his health. He plunged his hand into the cookie bucket again. Bill: Damn you, Pratt! Elmore: Y'gonna deprive these babies? Jade tried to do the mom-thing, seeing the rich cookies disappearing into the mouths of the children. They would rattle around with the rest of the crap in the distended little abdomens. Both children were wired up to beat hell, weere just about guaranteed not to sleep for a week, and would probably spend that entire time involved in something socially redeeming, like competitive projectile hurling. It was worth a shot. Jade: I think you two have had about enough for now. Wait until after you eat some lunch. Nuala: But, Mummie, Da says it's eggs and wheat...like bread. Jade was still dealing with Ryan's nutritional absurdities. The big Irishman had the sense to step smartly away from the narrowing green eyes. Jade: Nuala, baby, your Da says Guinness is liquid bread. Bill: Hell, he says 'at shit's a major food group. Jade: That's enough. No more. Elmore, don't give 'em anymore. They'll never eat real food. Three: Uncle Bill, can I have a cookie? Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bill slip the boy a cookie. Three bounced over to walk on the other side of Ryan, a fine act of self preservation. He was quick to swallow the cookie before the little ones saw him. he had accompanied us since his brothers had come over with their jackoff pals. He had been trailing along patiently and, to my surprise, he appeared to have become a favorite of Bill's. Strannix had been passing him money and food in some goofy approximation of a tolerant father.
Elmore reached over, brushed a hand over the auburn hair of my boy. Elmore: C'mon, buster...let's you an' me go take a lookit the cars in 'ere. Elmore and Three angled off to a display of classic cars in the Grandstand. Bill tossed the empty cookie bucket at me and followed them. I nested the bucket in the four others he'd managed to empty since our arrival. Jade: Nuala, honey, what's wrong? Nuala groaned in reply. Jade looked over at me. Here it comes, her expression plainly said. Jade: Mick? Mick: I don't feel so good. Ryan stopped the stroller. Jade seized Nuala and I snatched up Mick. They were getting to be too big to carry, the skinny little Irish children were being replaced by sturdy little Americans. But the babies were too ill to move themselves and it would be quicker to grab them up and run.
The line to the ladies' parted like the Red Sea and we barrelled on in, one pair to a stall. I saw Jade go to her knees beside Nuala and I did the same, holding Mick by the shoulders. A couple of intense minutes later it seemed Mick had finished. Deb: Better? Mick: Yes. Aunty? I lifted Mick to the countertop to help him wash up. Mick: Can I have a drink? Did I actually think he meant water? Deb: I suppose. Before I could say anything about finding a water fountain, Mick had broken into a wide grin. He named off something evilly sweet. Deb: Jade, I think we need to find a place to get these youngsters some lunch. This grazing shit has to stop. Jsde was completing the mop-up on Nuala, finishing with a quick brush and retie of the long hair. Jade: I think you're right, but I'm tellin' ya, if they can eat after this, they're indestructable. Nuala: Mummy, what's indestructable? Jade: Da. Uncle Bill. We led the two little ones back to the Ryan and the stroller. He had acquired beer somewhere but it was inferior American beer, though his palate was not so offended that he was unable to consume it. Elmore, Three and Bill had finished their examination of the mini car-show and had rejoined Ryan. Bill had got himself another bucket of cookies, and had done the same for Three. Mick snd Nuala's eyes locked on that bucket and they set themselves up to yell.
I stslked up to Bill, watching him grab the bucket out of the child's hands and thrust it into Elmore's ribs. I didn't stop until I was as far up in his face as it was possible for me to be, standing on his toes and all but having to cross my eyes to stay focused on him. Bill said nothing at first. He was too busy swallowing. Bill: Elmore's... Deb: Sure it was. Jade: Ryan, we need to feed these children genuine food. Ryan: Naturally, lass. Perhaps some of those lovely chops on a stick? Jade: You want to give two four year olds sticks? Ryan: Perhaps ye have a point, mo chroi. But the chops are lovely. Jade: Ryan, use your brain. Bill: He left it at home, darlin'. Ryan: Ye need t'be silent, boyo. I'd hate t'have t'be feedin' ye those biscuits up ye're arsehole. Bill: Ya look around this place long enough, you're gonna find shit on a stick. Deb: We are going to get some lunch. We are going to sit down and eat it like civilized people, instead of stuff our faces in public like cattle. We are not going to take any shit from the Terrorist Brigade. Is this clear? Bill: Ya tellin' me ya expect these monkeys t'eat anything? Those two just rowfed up their guts and this one here ain't quit eatin' since we came in! Three was entering into a period of intense growth. He could eat the house. three: But I'm hungry. Bill scowled down at the boy, who regarded him calmly and burped. Jade: March. Since I was the only one even vaguely familiar with the fairgrounds, I had been in the van all day. Now I struck out in the direction of the food building. I knew there was a dining hall run by a local church over there someplace.
Ryan brought the caravan to a halt by stopping to buy mylar balloons to tie to the stroller handles. Nuala's balloon was Miss Piggy, while Mick's was an alien. Loving brother that he was, Mick lost no time in informing Nuala that she bore a strong resemblance to his balloon. Nuala responded by clocking Mick, Mick socked her back and Jade and I had to jump in to break it up. Ryan lifted Mick out of the stroller and planted him on his shoulders. Elmore never hesitated, but instantly took Nuala under her arms and swept her onto his. The little fingers curled into Elmore's hair and his big hands gently braceleted the plump ankles. She smirked triumphantly at Mick. Da was Da...but Uncle Elmore was the world and a bag of frogs. Three's hands wrapped around the stroller handles and we continued onward.
The dining hall occupied an entire corner of the Food Building. The twins landed on their feet and, with Three, clustered around Jade and me. We took it upon ourselves to choose their meals. Jade: Gaerity, get up here and pay for this. Bill and Ryan were loading up on roast beef and multiple slices of thick-crusted fruit pie. Elmore was flirting shamelessly with the teenaged girls behind the steam table. He was doubtless the tallest, coolest drink of water they'd seen all day and he almost got his lunch for nothing. He turned, tipped the cashier a wink, and she had to call for reinforcements. Bill: What'n hell's up with that, boy? Elmore: Nothin', man. Drink y'milk, Mick. Mick: Don't want milk. Want ice cream. Ryan: Boyo, ye can't have ice cream without drinkin' ye're milk. Mick: But you said it was the same thing. Why can't I just have ice cream, Da? Two sets of eyes were alertly fastened on Ryan. Jade sat back and grinned evilly. Get out of this one, boy. Ryan: 'Tis only milk when there's no other milk t'be had. Nuala: But we always have milk at home and you say that. Ryan: Ye have a nice glassful of it there, and no ice cream. Ye'll have no ice cream until the milk is in your bellies. Jade: Very good! Nice combination of reason and authority. I'll give you a B for the attempt. Ryan: Ye have entirely too much fun watchin' things fly up and bite me in the arse, lass. Jade: I call 'em the way I see 'em, lad. Elmore was gently encouraging Nuala with her milk and the little girl was gulping it. She finished the glass, licked her lips, and looked adoringly up at Uncle Elmore. Elmore: That's m'girl. Young Mr. Pratt seemed to be blossoming, possibly because there was no pressure. He could allow himself the luxury of relaxing because there was nothing to want. What he wanted was about as far beyond his reach as it was possible for something to be. One of the servers was staring at him worshipfully and I might have laughed if it had been anyone else. Women would have stood in line for this gentle giant, but he wasn't in the market. Deb: Elmore? You know that little waitress you hired...what's her face... Cori Neal? Elmore; Yeah, what about 'er? She causin' problems? Deb: God, no. If I ever hear her string two words together hand running I'll die of shock. But her parole officer stopped in the other night. You know anything sbout that? Elmore: P.O.? What'n hell? She didn't say nothin' about that t'me. Ryan: Ye probably didn't ask, laddy. I fished in my wallet for the card I'd been handed before Mr. Man started pounding down the shooters and MGDs. Deb: Here it is...big, sad-sack lookin' character by the name of Trsvis Lehman. Jade: Is that who that was? God, did he do a lot for the khakis and the polo he had on. Ryan's eyed narrowed. Jade never complimented him when he wore a polo and khakis. Security would now be on the lookout for the Department of Corrections. Bill: Be seein' a lot of that boy if ya keep the girl on, Elmore. Jade and I had already made up our minds about Cori. She was bashful to the point of obscenity, in fact the very act of waitressing made her uncomfortable. But she tried hard and she seemed to mean well. If there was more to her past than she cared to discuss, it was none of our business unless she chose to make it so. Elmore: Got nothin' t'hide, Billy. He c'n camp out on the bar, he wants ta. I had seen him - Johnnie Walker Red shots with those damned MGD chasers. Deb: That's a loaded statement. Ryan mopped Mick and Nuala off with a napkin and a big paw. Ryan: We ready? These wee ones are gettin' a bit restless. Elmore was just slopping up the last of the gravy from his second complete meal. He favored the servers with a final slow smile, which caused at least one to blush into the vegetables and another to go sit down. Jade: Man, Elmore, you're brutal. Elmore: Just bein' nice, honey. Deb: Just laying waste to the neighborhood, you mean. Elmore: Aw, Ma... Deb: You go, boy. You know who's watchin'. We had no more than got ourselves back out onto the street when Ryan started in. Ryan: What would that contraption be, lass? Just in case I wasn't aware he was talking to me, Ryan drilled a finger into my ribs. I lurched away and into Bill, causing him to crush hslf a bag of caramel corn in a big fist. Bill: Hey, dammit! Ryan: That. What's that? I followed the pointing finger until my gaze landed in thr Ejection Seat, an evil ride that was a permanent fixture on the fairgrounds. It was bungee jumping in reverse. Instead of securing the cord to the ankles and hurling himself from a platform, the moron...er...rider strapped himself into a pod. This hung fron a gantry-like structure and dangled at the end of two stiff, elastic-like cables. The pod was winched to ground level and then released. It attained a force of 4gs as it snapped 160 feet into the air. After the initial lunge, the pod bounced and swung in a sickening fashion until it could be secured again.
I explained this scientific method of intestinal purging to Ryan, who instantly turned to Bill. Ryan: Quite a ride there, eh, William? Bill: I know what you're thinkin'. Fuck you. Rysn: Ever tried it? Bill: Fuck you. Elmore: I dunno, Bill. Might be fun. Bill: Fuck you, too. I ain't gettin' on that goddamn thing. Ryan: Are ye afraid then, lad? Sometimes it plain wasn't any fun to play with Bill. He was just too easy. Bill: Fuck you. I ain't afraid and I don't need t'get on that sonofabitch t'prove it. Ryan: If ye're not afraid, then... He stared calmly at Bill, then turned his head to stare at one of the livestock barns. The WPA built display building was full of the faint sound of clucking. Ryan: Lass, would that be the poultry barn? Deb: Yeah? Did I need to wonder where this was going? Ryan: Full of chickens, is it? Bill: Fulla chicken shit. Like a certain Irishman... Bill crossed his arms, refusing to be played for a fool. Ryan: Ye're a man who's flung his scrawny arse out of airplanes yet ye won't go on a simple ride. I'm ashamed of ye, lad. Elmore? Elmore: I'm game, boy. Elmore grinned, an easy and confident smile. Bill: I don't hafta do it anymore. Bill turned a Look on Elmore. Bill: Traitor. Elmore: Cluck-cluck-cluck. Bill started to shrug out of his jacket. Bill: That's gonna come outta your pay, boy. How much does this gut-wrencher cost anyway? Deb: Twenty each. And you need to sign a waiver. Bill: Well, Gaerity, ya fuckwit, gitcher ass ready t'go. Ryan: Ah, lad, not me. When there are two fools ready and willing... Bill: God. Damnit. Mick: Ye're gonna puke, Uncle Bill. Bill ruffled the child's hair, a bit rougher than usual. Bill: Mick, shut yer trap. Nuala: We shoulda had all the cookies. Ye're gonna puke, Uncle Bill. His hand hovered over Nuala's head. Jade shot him a look. Deb: Careful. Latent motherhood in action. Jade: Shut the goddamn hell up. Bill: I never puked in my life. Deb: How far d'ya think, Jade? Quarter of a mile? Jade: Oh, half, even. You told me he had the lung capacity of... Deb: Cookies all over the place. Wish I had an umbrella. Jade: Or one of those big plastic tarps people use at Gallagher shows... One level brow shot hairline-ward. We women subsided, though I couldn't stop the fruity snorting. Elmore had wandered over to the carny, handed over his 20.00 and was signing the waiver. He was perfectly fine with the entire process. Bill looked as though he was being strapped into a dentist's chair. He tried to sound calm as they were buckled into the contraption. Tried. Bill: Elmore, you ever in the military? You ever jump? Elmore: I served a hitch. Spent a lotta time in the stockade. Never jumped. Ya scared, Bill? Bill: Hell no. You? Elmore yawned and closed his eyes while he waited. Ice water ran through the boy's veins. Nuala: Will Uncle Bill poop his pants, Mummy? Jade could barely suppress a grin. Jade: Nuala, your Uncle Bill is a grown man. He won't. Probably. Deb: Say, Bill! Bill jumped as if shot. Bill: What?!? Deb: I can go find a pair of boxers in the International Market. Might have lizards on 'em, but they'll be clean. Bill: Shut the goddamnhellup!!! Deb: He's shittin' himself now. Ryan raised a glass of beer to the pod as it was tightened into position. Ryan: May the road rise to meet ye, but never to hit ye in the face. Deb: A distinct possibility. Bill shut his mouth and glared. Elmore looked as if he were going to take a nap. Bill elbowed him in the side. Hard. Bill: Wake up, boy, I'm not goin' down by m'self. Elmore: Huh? Oh...whatsa matter, Bill? The people standing around the base of the ride began the countdown. Mick: He's gonna get sick, Mummy!! Bill heard the distinct sound of someone snoring, so he slapped Elmore. Bill: Damnit! Wake the holy fuck up over there!!! Elmore: What?!? The pod suddenly snapped upward 160 feet in a violent motion. Bill didn't know it but he'd been mic'ed. Everybody heard his response. Bill: Holy mother of goddamn motherfucking God! Ryan: Is that a bit redundant? There was another sound coming over the mic, that of a gentle snore. Bill: Wake the goddamn holy fuck up you pissant sonofamotherfucker! The carny couldn't seem to shut the mic off. There were mothers herding children away from the scene. Of course, two children were listening, fascinated. Their mother was rolling around in the grass, their father calmly sipping on a beer. He stopped, threw his head back, and called out to the pod. Ryan: How's yer stomach, William? The response was very clear. Bill: Fuck you, ya evil piece of Irish sod! Another noise, a snort. Bill's next response was low and murderous, but not missed by the mic. Bill: I'm gonna beat the tar outta you later, boy...wake the fuck up... A prolonged snore. Elmore didn't seem to be too concerned for the state of his hide. The pod swung at the end of the cords in long, wicked arcs. Nuala: He's pukin' now, Mummy! Jade grinned. Jade: Hush! Elmore: Hey, Bill, when they gonna shoot this thing off? Bill: Fuck... you. Evil... goddamn... ugh... Mick: Can I have your cookies, Uncle Bill? Bill: ... gonna clobber all of ya... Deb: Hey, Jade! Jade: What? Deb: Who does Bill remind you of right now? Jade: I don't know, who? Deb: George Jetson! Remember? Jade: Hell yeah! Jane, stop this crazy thing! Oh, we thought we were pretty funny. Bill: Jane's gonna get paddled... if this thing ever quits swinging... Jesus H. Motherfucking... Elmore was snoring again. Ryan burped gently. It seemed that we were the only people left watching this strange show, the yuppies having herded their pups to safer regions and cheese curds. Finally, the carnies began winching the pod down to let Elmore and Bill out. Deb: Jade, I think it's time to go... Jade: Might be that these kids will need to go to the bathroom. Deb: We'd better get them there right away. Ryan, maybe you'd like to go get another beer. Ryan: Oh, I'm fine with the one I have. Deb: You're not going to be fine when Lurch gets out of that pod... Ryan: I've worried over less and been beaten by better. He grinned lazily over the beer. Deb: If he can beat you at all in his present state, it's going to be an interesting show. Jade: Nevertheless, not one I'd care to see, thank you. Mick, Nuala, come on... She pulled them along to the bathrooms. Mick: Mummy, I want Uncle Bill's cookies! Jade: Watch it, you might get what you ask for... Elmore stepped out of the pod looking as refreshed as a man can who has had a restful nap. Bill, on the other hand, looked very... unsettled. He walked slowly towards me. Ryan: You're Irish after all, William! That shade of green right round those bloodshot eyes reminds me of home... Bill: Fucker. You did this to me... and I'm going to kill you. Deb: He got Annapolis out for this? Bill: You. Shut up. Uh... He stopped. Bill: 'Scuse me. Deb: Exit, stage right. Elmore walked up to Ryan as Bill took off in generally the same direction that Jade had. Elmore took Ryan's beer and drained it. He had a sort of reflective look on his face. Ryan: What did ye think of it, lad? Elmore: Wasn't much. Bill ambled back, looking... lighter? Elmore: Bill, I'm gonna go get a bucket a'cookies. You want one? Bill: No. Nuala and Mick appeared out of nowhere, Jade in tow. Nuala: Did you poop your pants, Uncle Bill? Jade: Nuala! Nuala: Sorry. Jade grinned. Jade: Well... did you, Bill? Bill: Little girl, nothin' scares me. Nuala: How come you were yellin' all those bad words? Mummy washes Da's mouth out when he uses those words. Bill: I was just teachin' your Uncle Elmore how not ta talk. Mick: Uncle Elmore was asleep, I don't think he heard ye. Bill was starting to look flustered, something only the children were even remotely able to bring out in him. Jade walked away quickly, returning with a disposable camera. She began snapping pictures of this expression as it ripened. Bill: He needs ta learn how ta pay attention, too. Dontcha, boy? Another belt to the arm. Elmore: Huh? Ryan went Jade one better. He removed a video camera from its case and began to film Bill's destruction. Nuala: I didn't know you knew those words, Uncle Bill. Bill: I was ah... uh... Ryan: You were what, William? Bill's eyes locked on me. I did my best at a charming and innocent shrug. Bill: ... uh... Deb: Come on, out with it, Captain Kangaroo. Bill: You want some cookies, Nuala? Mick: I WANT SOME TOO! Bill rolled his eyes tiredly. Bill: All right, dam--er.. hell. Just get 'em some da...fu... freakin' cookies, punk. Deb: Give 'em yours. Bill: Yeah yeah yeah... If I see another one of those fu...da... er, bast... Inarticulate grumbling.
At that moment, Bill noticed Ryan with the camera. Ryan waved happily. Bill: Fu... Aw, hell. Gaerity! Ryan: You remind me of a priest I once knew, William. Couldn't control his language when he was drunk. Nuala: Are ye drunk, Uncle Bill? Bill: No! Where're those cookies... TO BE CONTINUED...
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