The Babe and the Buds and a Bottle of Southern Comfort Hit Texas, and It's Still Mardi Gras
Posted: Wednesday, February 02, 2011
by Christofer French
Rain Dancer Associates, LLC
There I was in the middle of the night driving my guests. All of them asleep and I still looking in the rear view mirror. The humidity in the Beaumont, Texas area was doubly moist. “Even pencils sweat here.” I would say when I would visit relatives. I wiped my brow with one of the bloody tee shirts that Kathy had used to clean the blood off her breasts.
Then she suddenly woke up. Stretched her arms and leaned against the passenger door. She put her feet on my thigh. She whispered: “How they doin’?” Referring to my drunken crew.
“Dead to the world”. I coughed. “Poor choice of words.” For a second, I looked over at the figure filling up my vision.
“Keep your eyes on the road, Mister.” She winked at me. “So, have you seen sign of the Sheriff with the busted nose?” I said nothing.
“Don’t you know when a man doesn’t get aroused with my head in his lap, I know there’s something else occupying his mind.” She chuckled with a mock laugh, but little noise. She did not want to wake the 4 in the back seat.
“Holy Hell.” I leaned forward as a pair of head lights filled up the mirrors and the car. “He must have snuck up on us in the dark!” No siren pierced the night, but we felt an extended blast from his horn.
Kathy turned to look at the car on our rear. Fence Post shot up like a perked up raccoon rummaging the garbage. The three others still slept through the hibernating power of their beer. “Jodie, he kept his lights off for miles”. I can’t see good, but that looks like a Dodge Charger, not the cop car. But there’s that big white bandage on his nose!”
No emergency lights. No siren. I figured this was a race. I floored the accelerator, and got some space between us. But he had a “sooped up” 383 and matched my speed. He pulled up a shot gun, dropped a little for a good angle on my rear tire and blasted. He caught it good. We fishtailed and I pulled the car short on the shoulder of the road, stirring up a big cloud next to a field of cotton.
He skidded around and placed his headlights on us. We were blinded, scared and now, all of us were awake, Kathy, was hiding her brass knuckles in between the seats. Fence Post and the Brothers were wide-eyed and ever so pale in the glare of headlights and the sparkling illumination of the stars. I was shaking a bit. Wondering what life was going to deal me now.
He exited from his Charger and didn’t lift his feet much. They sloughed. I jumped out of the car to create separation. I walked toward him. He pointed his just-fired shot gun, which still had a wisp of smoke emanating from the barrel. “Now nobody gets ambitious. Ya’ll come out one by one. Hey, you little bitch. You come over here.”
The big man looked different with no uniform. No law enforcement paraphernalia. He had obviously had someone tend to his nose there in Oberlin, before he got his Charger. He was swaying a bit, and his speech sounded inexact. Kathy hustled over as if she were a truck stop waitress being called for another round.
Then she went up to him and slid her left arm down on the shot gun so that it was pointing to the ground. “Sheriff, I am sorry. I was scared for my life. Now that I can see you in a clearer light, I can see you’re not a dangerous fella. In fact, you’re not bad lookin’ neither. It was me that kissed you, remember. I just had a fit of fear.”
“Don’t you beat all? He moved sideways up to her elegant form. “Them brass knuckles have made me shy. I don’t suppose you have them on you now?” She pulled her pockets out to show they were empty. Then he stuck his hands inside her bra. “Not to be found.”
Kathy admitted. “Left in the car.” She twinkled her green eyes. “Mr. Whatever your name is.” She looked at his shirt and squinted with her playful face: “Harold.”
She seemed to have a calming effect on this wild and strange man. I kept my mouth shut.
“I’ll be takin’ y’all in for assaulting me.” Kathy tried to deflect as she tended to his dirty red band aid instinctively. And he allowed it. She used one of the tee shirts on his nose. “That my blood from before?” He went into a reverie. “I wish I could go to Mardi Gras some time and see all the people at Mardi Gras. It’s got to be a whole lot more fun than I have ever had in Oberlin! Damn!”
I smiled and looked at the ground. “Harold, those are feelings we have all had.”
Kathy picked up the cue immediately.
“Yup. You know Harold, we were lookin’ for a good time at the Mardi Gras. I think you just let yourself kinda smash into your fantasies instead of being a good replacement Sheriff, you know what I mean? You are a Sheriff?”
“Yall get into the back of my Charger.” You young lady are one confusing woman. I swear, you make me lose myself when I look at you. Are you one of them witches from the Pearl River Bayou?”
As the boys had piled in, Harold had clipped them on the back of their heads. They were boiling over, but the simmer was still spitting off the sides. Keith had the dirtiest mouth amongst them. “You big ole sloth. You come out at night to do your damage to us damn fine representatives of the human race?” Harold swiped his jaw with the heel of his shot gun and sent him into back seat, butt first and bloody lip spraying.
“Come on now honey. We gonna give these guys a show. A show like the Mardi Gras we’re missin’.”
Harold was trying to kiss her but his bloody bandage deterred a feeling of intimacy. Jodie could see an empty bottle of Southern Comfort on the floor of the car.
I was getting more than nervous, and a sense of what Kathy’s style was, crept over me. “Hey, Harold”. I put my hand on my head, unconsciously looking for time to think. “Uh. You know what else comes up in February?”
Harold reloaded from shells in his pocket. Fence Post cussed because he knew they could have stormed him. “Valentines. Kathy, that girl you got in your hands. That’s my Valentine.”
Harold looked envious, admiring and full of fury – all at once. Kathy picked up on me picking up on her style. She showed me her smiling eyes. “Yes, Harold. I can only be true to one Valentine’s at once. You’re a helluva man, but.”
A new color of his skin illuminated the dark. He slobbered from the booze, but he made himself understood. “You bitch. You hate me. If a guy like me came up to you on the street, you would look right through him, turn on your heel and. He choked and looked like he was crying. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it ever’ day! That’s why tonight, I just imagined you. I just saw you as some gift from outa the wood. I saw you as an angel, and a witch too. Damn you. I oughta be done with alla youz”.
I started motioning our guys to get outa the car. They did. They were all standing waiting for any signal I would make.
“Ya’ll gonna blitz me. You look like football players. I do security guard at the Oberlin games. Come on, I ain't afraid. I’ll blow you all away.”
Fence Post was getting furious. He had a tenuous hold on his restraint. “Harold,” Fence Post’s voice was quivering. “You a Renta Cop? You are not a Sheriff are you?”
“I am related. And that’s as much as you need to know.” He grabbed Kathy as he adjusted his shot gun. “I’m a gonna have my way with this witch. Now, what do I do with y’all?”
I calmly called our defensive blitz. “Harold, you ever heard of Wolf Pack One? The guys held back like salivating wolves. It’s a call where any -body in front of us, gets their head stove in.”
“I ain't afraid of you Texas teens.” Harold gripped Kathy’s arm. Kathy was ready to knock Harold’s gun up into the air, so that his first instinctive shot would go skyward.
Then everything changed. I thought to myself. It must be Wednesday. Fat Tuesday has got to be over! A Texas cop from Orange County rolled up quietly, but with his lights twirling.
Harold dropped Kathy’s arm and he relaxed his shot gun into his arms. Kathy came to me quickly and held me. A voice came out of the darkness, with a radio station playing softly. “Is that you Harold?” I put a calming hand in the air, and all the guys stopped. They settled down immediately. As the two walked toward each other, Keith cursed in a whisper. “Oh no. They know each other. Could it get any worse?”
We drove into Mauriceville, Texas. We changed the tire on the Monte Carlo, then all 3 cars rolled into town to the nearest cop shop. Then we were all shown into a waiting room. Leo Burlingham was the Sheriff’s name. As Kathy and I talked, and the boys sipped coffees, Leo and Harold conferred in an interrogation room.
Then a female officer took Kathy away. Kathy looked over her shoulder with her patented bold sweet smile. She did a little finger wave and reassuredly looked at me, as she talked to the officer. Then the door shut.
Fence Post moved over to sit with me. “I think we can pretty well, conjure up a story to get Harold in a pile. I don’t care if he is related to the local or is the Governor’s in law.”
I interrupted Fence Post. I was on edge. “Just don’t get too horsey here. We got a lot on our side. Kathy had to defend herself. I didn’t even know about those damned brass knuckles. I mean, I knew about ‘em, but I did not know she had them with her.” Even I was losing my balance. Fence Post looked at me hard. “OK, I knew she had them.”
I kind of went into one of my hypnotic phases again. For this night was truly a Fat Tuesday. Fat full of illusions and harsh realities. We were treated like royalty. Not like suspects. The officer that took Kathy into the room was quite pleasant. Kathy came out all pretty, with a nice smock on. Naturally, if Kathy were in burlap, she would provide a wonderful image. However, not only was Kathy her usual knockout self -- she was smiling. She looked at me, crossed her eyes and circled her head like she was playfully confused. I thought this peculiar behavior for this night. But then again, for this night, who could predict?
I whispered. “Kathy, you are my Valentine.” She did not let herself crumble to overwrought sentiment.
“Oh, Preacher, just shut up, and follow my lead”. She crossed her legs, checked her fingernails. And pushed her fingers along her eyebrows. “We can talk about Valentine’s day later.”
Kathy and I were escorted into a small office. Leo was in his 40’s. He had the look of a law enforcement officer who played the role of a guardian. We both drank anew from Styrofoam cups. The female officer silently slid a plate of cookies on the table.
Leo, had a mellifluous voice. Kind of like Johnny Cash’s voice. “I understand the story is pretty simple. If you need to correct me. Just go ahead.”
Kathy of course knew more from the female cop. I was definitely going to listen first, and then wait for her.
“I understand you came into town, looking for a cousin’s house. Bought some gas and met up with Harold. You and your party had a good old time with Harold. You turned up the radio and he danced with Ms. Kilgore. As you twirled, it turned out that Kathy was awkward, and there was an accident. Uhum. This was right in the street under the big light there in town. Kathy, apparently you slipped on your feet, and Harold hit himself trying to pull you up to gain your balance. He hit himself in the nose, as your hand slipped out of his. Is this right so far?” Leo looked at both of us, checking our responses. “Please verbally acknowledge.” We both did.
Kathy held my hand on the table. My head was racing. My tongue was silent.
“You acknowledge that there had been a great deal of under-age drinking on the part of all the members of your party. Now children, I must warn against this. Especially Southern Comfort. The accidents I have seen on these long stretches of farming road. Harold says that he had to shoot your back tire to get you to stop. Apparently, he was trying to chase you down to give these brass knuckles back. That you had left them in Oberlin.”
I want to tell you that strange things happen during this time of year. Mardi Gras, Lent, Valentine’s Day. Love and Religion sometimes blend together awkwardly.
“Harold is the younger brother of the Sheriff in Oberlin, and he has no complaints against you. He wanted to know if there were any complaints that you all have against him.”
We both shook our heads. Then urped out - “No, no.”
“Now most of the drinking you did was earlier on, and in fact happened in the earlier evening in another state.”
Kathy and I both sipped more coffee. She got up and grabbed the pot and poured some more.
“Harold, is a kind of a strange man. Good fella,” he added so quickly that he plucked the moment like a frog grabbing a fly. “Good fella, but there have been moments that we here in this County have had to investigate some unusual circumstances. There was nothing untoward?”
Then, Kathy thought of something. “Now Officer Burlingham.” She smoothed her borrowed smock, but nothing could hide her perfect form. “I feel his dancing with me, was, well. He was taken with me, and expressed so.”
Burlingham laughed. I hid my amusement. Because I knew what he was going to say. “Ms. Kilgore, if he were not taken with you, then I would conclude that there was something finally really wrong with him.”
I intervened. I laughed. “Officer, you’re right. He was not odd at all in that manner. The whole world is in love with Kathy Kilgore.”
We were permitted to leave. We drove away from the rising sun. We were leaving the Mardi Gras behind, and speeding toward Valentine’s. Kathy and I would face further adventures, but not in February of 1974. There would be further excitement that would arise in constant uncertainty. It would seem however, that there were two things that were certain: Kathy was my Super Girl, and I was her “Preacher”.
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