It had been a long day. Lately, all my days were long, but there was nothing to complain about. On reaching home, I began my usual routine, change into grubs, think about something for the rugmonkeys, and check my e-mail. On this particular evening, things rapidly went to the dogs. Or should I say, Dawg.
#1 Son: MAAAAA!! Deb: I'm in the same hemisphere, you don't need to holler. What? #1 Son: Buncha guys here. Deb: I don't have any cash. Tell 'em we don't want any. #1 Son: They got badges. Deb: What?? Oh, no... I looked up from my computer to find Sam Gerard filling my small living room with his companion on this run, Biggs. The two men fished out their credentials and showed them to The Boy. I didn't need to see anything. Sam: Get your things. Deb: 'Scuse me? Sam: Get your things. You deaf? #1 Son: I hafta holler at her all the time. Up from the computer, into the living room. Biggs was dipping into a box of crackers #2 Son was munching. Sam: Let's go. Deb: You see these three, Sam? You can't just drag me off unless I get somebody in here with 'em. Sam: So, get somebody. Deb (patiently): What's this all about, Sam? Sam: You know what it's about. Biggs, get outa the kid's crackers, damn, don't we feed you? Biggs: He doesn't mind, Sam. Sam: You're obstructing justice. You know where he is. If you won't tell me, you're gonna show me. Deb: Can't do it. Sam: Can't, won't, doesn't matter, girl. You're gonna show me. Deb: How can I show you when I don't know. Beth knows...I think. I told you, I've never been south of Wichita in my life. Sam: We're going to Beth. I get the two of you together, one of you's going to tumble. Deb: You seem awfully sure of yourself, there. Sam: It's like this - I need to get inside Strannix' house. To do that, I need a warrant. To get a warrant, I need an address. I get you two goin', she'll give me something I can use. Deb: You think so? Sam: I know it. Deb: I can't afford it! Financially! I'm not kidding. I need to be at work, or these three and Biggs don't eat. Sam: Tell me how much you make a day, I'll give it to you. Deb: One good thing, it won't break you. #1 Son: That Sam Gerard? Deb: The one and only. #1 Son: He ain't much. Son appeared to rise about six inches off the floor. He turned, convinced #2 Son had been responsible for the shot to his butt. Around my house, buttkicking had about as much significance as a wave, and was used between the boys about as often. Most people say hi, how are you...my boys kick each other in the butt. Then they fight. #1 Son was ready to go, until he discovered Sam was the one who'd given him the boost. Since Sam had already intimidated our Dalmatian/Lab/Mental Case cross, Baska, into silent stillness, #1 Son was not a challenge. Sam: Anybody tell you to talk, boy? #1 Son: No. Sam: Then don't. When I wanna hear from you, I'll let you know. Deb: Sam... Sam: If you won't come willingly, I'll take you. If we need to, we'll take the kids into protective custody. #1 Son: I'll be okay here with them. Sam: That's more like it, son. We'll have Biggs watch the house. You three pull anything your mother doesn't like, you'll deal with me. Biggs, get 'em some ice-cream or somethin'. You get your stuff. Deb: How much stuff? Overnight, what? Sam: No more than that. Move, we got a plane to catch. Which was how I came to be in a car with Sam, heading for the main terminal at MSP. He had tossed my hastily packed duffelbag into the backseat with scarcely a word. He answered my questions with inarticulate grunts...growls when he didn't like them. No wonder Billy called him Deputy Dawg. After a few minutes of this, I sat quietly. Sam: You want the window? Deb: No. I might need to makes some bathroom runs. I'll take the aisle, if that's okay. Sam: Fine with me. I always spent a lot of time riding the porcelain bus when I was nervous, and this time was no exception. Somewhere over Nebraska, though, it occurred to me that Beth deserved a warning. I knew her number was unlisted, and I knew she had Caller ID, but I felt like I had to try. On one trip to the bathroom, I tried my cellphone, but it didn't work as well as I would have liked. On another jaunt, I talked one of the attendants into letting me hide in business class for a time, where there were phones in the seatbacks. I billed the calls to Sam. Operator: Directory Assistance, what state, please? Deb: Texas. Op: Okay, what city? Deb: Lubbock...I need the number for Beth Franklin. I know it's unlisted and you're not supposed to give it out, but this is an emergency. A big one... Several minutes of inspired begging later, I scribbled the number down on the inflight magazine. Quickly, I dialed it up. Beth: Hello? Deb: Beth, this is Deb, you know...from up north... Beth: Yeah, hi! How'd you get my number? Where are you? Deb: How I got your number isn't important. I'm on a plane, on my way to Lubbock. You need to get out of there. Beth: You got my number but it isn't important how, you're on your way to Lubbock, and I need to get out of here. You've been hanging around Billy too long. Deb: Speaking of Billy, is he there? Beth: Where else would he be? I have food you can actually eat. Of course he's here, why? Deb: Get rid of him. Tell him to get lost for a while. I'm serious. Beth: Serious? You sound nuts! Deb: I'm not on this plane alone. I'm here with... A shadow fell across me and I looked up. Deb: Sam? Beth: Sam? SAM! Sam took the phone from me. Sam: Beth? Sam Gerard, how are you, Darlin. You plannin' on being home tonight?...No, Darlin', you don't understand. You plan on being home... we'll be there before too much longer...I expect to see you there. END OF PART ONE...
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