The Goat

“Want me to drive?” Sparky offered.

  “No, that’s okay, my insurance has enough trouble covering me,” he pulled eased the car onto the deserted highway. “You know, you’re going to thank me some day.”

  Sparky was looking out the window. Most of the time he had spent driving he felt obligated to keep his eyes on the road. He hadn’t had a chance to really take in the sights.

  The Zoo whipped by. He looked over at the speedometer. “Going a little fast?”

  “You are really annoying, you know that? And by the way, that phone thing you did to me? That really pissed me off.”

  “Did it?” Sparky was tempted to tell him to shut up. He was really not at all impressed with anything Basil had said since they met. “You’re fairly unpleasant.”

  “You know you have a lot of opinions for a farm critter.”

  “I think I’ve managed fairly well, especially considering present company.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Basil was licking over his teeth with his tongue.

  Sparky looked over and Basil retreated his tongue back behind his lips.

  “Look goat, I am a well respected member of the Canadian Bureau of Investigations and very successful.”

  “Then what are you doing blackmailing talking livestock?”

  “Christ, you’re just like that damn girl! Does everything have to be an argument with you?” Basil slammed his hands on the wheel.

  “It depends on if there is a point to argue.” Sparky turned, looking out the window. Most of the city lights were dim, but some of the fast food places were still lit up. They passed by giant golden arches. Sparky looked back to his new companion, feeling his stomach turn. “Hey, are you hungry?”

  “Hungry for what? You bring some hay you can share with me? Oh wait I know, some of those little pellets. Us humans love to chew on grass cubes!” Basil lowered himself in his seat. “Stupid goat.”

  Sparky cleared his throat and pulled one of the hundreds from his coat pocket. “I was thinking we could stop and get a burger and maybe some hash browns.”

  “Where’d you get that money? Was that from the contest?”

  “Uh-huh.” Sparky flapped the stiff bill in front of his face.

  “They don’t serve hash browns at two a.m." The detective forced a cough. The goat didn't have an immediate rebuttal as Basil had expected. "Have you tried the French fries?”

  “No.”

  “Just like hash browns,” the detective pulled the car off the freeway. “We’re going inside though. Can’t take any more drive thru tonight unless you want me to throw up.”

  “No, Frank covered that this evening from what I heard.”

  Sparky and Basil looked at each other. It was the first time each had done so without trying to intimidate the other. They only kept the connection for a moment.

  “Yeah, covered my shoes with it.” Basil spun the wheel with his open palm as he guided the car into a free parking space.

  Chapter 76

  “Almost there, almost got it,” Samantha was stretching her front legs as far as she could. The locks on the cages were at a near impossible angle for the goats to reach. She had coordinated with Dipper and the two were trying to see if she could manage to manipulate the lock on his cage.

  “You’re not going to reach, girl. If anything you’re going to squeeze your arms off,” Dipper said. “It’s a noble effort, though.”

  She gave one final stretch before surrendering. She knew she couldn’t reach the lock. She wasn’t even sure what good she could do without a key, but there wasn’t any other way to pass the time. As the young lady settled back down, she stumbled over Montana. He had been sleeping for some time.

  “Sorry, bubby, I didn’t mean to,” She tried to apologize, but the kid just waved her off. He was too exhausted and hungry to worry about it. She reached over and stroked his head as he settled back down.

  “You see anything, Sparky?”

  “Nothing, sis. I think this is a lost cause.” He hardly lifted his head to speak, his body stretched over the floor of his cage.

  “It’s okay little miss, no one expected you to save us,” Mudbubble’s voice was quiet and consoling. “You’re doing great though.”

  “I’m just not one to give up, Muddy.”

  “Young lady, I’m not asking you too. In fact, if there were a goat that could do it in this room, it would be you.” Mudbuddle grinned.

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Samantha sat down for the first time in hours and rested her legs. She thought over his gentle words.

  “He’s right, Sam. I think you’re the only one of us that has any hope,” Darren said. He was a few cages over.

  “Oh, well.” She turned away shyly. She had not been operating for compliments.

  “Your father would be proud,” Mudbubble said.

  Mudbubble's vision drifted away to Snowball, she was almost on the other side of the room, but he still managed to find her through the maze of bars. This time he noticed she was looking back. He smiled. She smiled.

  “Muddy?” Sam asked.

  “Yes?”

  “When we were in the truck, you said,” she hesitated a moment. It was hard to overcome her greatest of fears. “You said my dad was coming to save us.”

  “Yeah, I did say that, didn’t I?”

  “Is it true?”

  “Well,” he studied her face. “I can’t tell you that.”

  “Why not?”

  Mudbubble thought a moment to carefully select his words. “I don’t know for certain. It’s a big world. Lots of things can happen. I don’t want to drown your hopes, but it would be almost impossible for any goat to-”

  “But he’s not just any goat. He’s my dad.”

  “He’s a special breed,” Darren said. “He’s the only goat my dad ever listened to.”

  “He’s my best friend,” Mudbubble added.

  “Mine, too,” Dipper said.

  “You know honey,” Mudbubble looked down at her, she was sobbing lightly. “If there was a goat that could do it, it would be your dad.”

  She smiled through her tears.

  “Sam, Sam!” Sparky Junior’s tone was panicked.

  All the animals turned to the door. They knew from the young one’s anxious warning that someone was coming.

  The doors flapped open. Reilly strolled in like a king. He was followed by two men hauling a cart.

  “Where are you? Where’s my special friend?” His voice filled with satisfaction. “Where’s my screaming little buddy?”

  Oreo stood up in his cage. He looked behind him to Blossom and then returned the man’s call. “I’m here.”

  “Excellent. The doctor was nice enough to let me choose the first subject. Guess who I picked.”

  Oreo held his stance as his cage was shaken and the men moved him onto the cart. Reilly smiled brightly, knowing fully what was in store for the goat.

  “You’re going to love this. But don’t worry everyone, you’ll all get a turn!”

  “What about food?” a small cry erupted from the back of the room, Reilly couldn’t pinpoint where from.

  “Food?” Reilly kicked one of the cages, the rattling metal sent a shockwave through the room. “What food? Ungrateful beasts!”

  Reilly started out of the room. The two workers followed, dragging the cart behind them. Oreo refused to sit as he was hauled away. As he was almost out of the room he turned and looked directly at Sam.

  “Don’t give up.”

  Chapter 77

  “Welcome to Grand Mariner’s!”

  The young lady at the register was wearing a black hat with a dead man on it. Sparky wasn’t sure how that would make people more hungry, but he would go along with it. He did not want draw attention to himself, he was already nervous about being inside another restaurant.

  Basil had insisted they go inside on account of what he referred to as a weak stomach. The goat knew of no such thing and from wha
t he had read in some of the Oliver’s medical journals, there was no such condition. He tried to have the man give him alternate names in hope of wowing him with treatment options. The plan backfired and the two were screaming at each other in no time. Sparky had surrendered.

  “Would you like to try a Flaming Happy Fish Surprise with our special imitation lobster flavored bisque dip?”

  “What was that?” Sparky asked.

  “The Grand Mariner’s Flaming Happy Fish Surprise is two reconstituted cod filets coated in Grand Mariner’s trademarked New England style breading and deep fried in lard. Then we serve it with the finest imitation lobster flavored bisque dip this side of Martin Street!”

  “Martin Street?”

  “Yeah, its four blocks over, there is this little mom and pop place there. We used to say this side of the Atlantic Ocean, but they filed a lawsuit and as part of the settlement we have to limit our supremacy to Martin Street.”

  Sparky nodded. He looked up to the menu. Everything seemed to contain fish. Fish and chips, fish and pups, fish brownie. “Do the French fries contain fish?”

  “No, but they are fried in grouper oil.”

  He stepped back to review the menu further; Basil stepped up to the counter. “I want that Grand Mariner’s fire special thing.”

  The young lady lifted a cardboard standup from the counter, moving her finger across the name of the special. “Grand Mariner’s Flaming Happy Fish Surprise?”

  “Yeah, yeah, that’s good.”

  “And for you, sir?” she waved the card at the goat, “Do you want one too?”

  Sparky looked at the picturesque landscape of food in the picture. Two slender filets of fish, lightly breaded to a tender golden brown, a mountain of fries wedged in and the steaming yellow bowl of what he assumed had to be the bisque. It did look appetizing, but he was sure fish was meat, and meat wasn’t part of his diet.

  “Do you have anything without fish?”

  “Coffee.”

  “I was hoping for something with a little more substance.”

  Sparky looked at Basil, who had buried his face in his hands. The goat wished they had gone to one of the burger places. Their fries weren’t fried in grouper oil. At least he didn’t think so, he had never asked.

  “I’ll try the fries.”

  “Okay, one Grand Mariner’s Flaming Happy Fish Surprise, and one order of fries. Anything else?”

  “Come to think of it I’m a little thirsty, can I get a drink with that?” Basil asked.

  “The special comes with a medium drink. You can sail off with a large for twenty-nine cents or cruise with the jumbo size for seventy-nine cents more,” she paused to regain her breath. “If you’re really in the mood you can sink yourself with the Titanic size for a dollar!”

  “No that’s fine, I’ll take a medium. Just give me a regular soda.”

  The young lady coughed into her hand and then pointed. “The machine is over there.”

  She placed a small cup on the counter in front of him. Basil picked it up; he assumed she didn’t give him the right cup. “What is this?”

  “Looks like a cup,” Sparky didn’t realize the question wasn’t for him.

  Basil scowled at Sparky.

  “It’s a medium.”

  “This is a medium? I thought that was the medium,” he pointed to a stack of cups behind her. The girl stepped back.

  “This is the medium,” she pointed to the first and smallest cup. “This is the large.”

  “Wait! So your smallest size is a?”

  “Medium.”

  “Shouldn’t your smallest size be called a small? Not a medium?”

  “I don’t name our drinks,” she stepped back to the register. “But I would be happy to hoist the sail of service and give you a large drink for only twenty-nine cents!”

  “Sure, fine, whatever,” he dropped the cup on the counter.

  “Did you want a drink, sir?”

  Sparky was busy following Basil with his eyes; he hadn’t heard the cashier speak to him.

  The cashier raised her voice, “Sir?"

  Sparky jumped. “Yes?”

  “Did you want a drink?”

  Sparky took a moment to sort through the menu and the woman's earlier descriptions. “Yes, um, coffee, Titanic sized.”

  “Coffee sizes are small and large.”

  He looked over at Basil, who wasn’t paying any attention; he appeared to be speaking to himself. At least Sparky could see that his lips were moving.

  “I thought you had medium, large...”

  She cut him off, “Those are our soft drink sizes. Coffee is small and large.”

  “But I want the Titanic size. Is that not possible? Can’t you hoist that service sail?”

  “The service sail doesn’t work like that.” He could tell that she was starting to share in Basil’s frustration. He decided it would be best to keep it simple.

  Sparky leaned a little further forward. “Here, I’ll make this easy. Cancel the fries. I just want coffee.”

  Chapter 78

  “You know that I’ve never sat in a public place with anyone eating just coffee beans. Thank you for making this a reality for me.” Basil kept his head low. “What will people think?”

  “What people?” Sparky scanned the restaurant, there was no one there besides the cashier and she was reading a book. “The lady?”

  “Yeah and everyone else. You don’t want to be exposed, do you? No person eats coffee beans.”

  Sparky looked over at the counter. The cashier flipped the page of her book.

  “She’s not even looking.”

  “It doesn’t matter. These places are full of cameras.” He pointed at the goat with a French fry. “Like that moving place”, Basil snapped his fingers, “Llama’s!”

  “Larry’s.”

  “Yeah, whatever, wall to wall surveillance,” he dipped the fry into the greenish side of imitation lobster bisque and shoved it into his mouth.

  “That really doesn’t look like the photo.”

  Basil shoved another coated fry into his mouth. “It never does; it tastes great though,” he continued to speak while chewing the fries. Bits of potato launched across the table. Sparky pulled back his plate of coffee beans to shield it from the shrapnel.

  Basil turned up his nose. “What? You have manners or something?” His mouth was still stuffed with food. “You spit out just as much when you eat.”

  Sparky tossed a hoof full of beans into his mouth. Basil watched carefully, his eyes tightened on Sparky's lower lip.

  “There, there. You got stuff all over the table right there.”

  Sparky looked down. On the table was a small black fleck. He reached out for it and it took flight. Sparky finished his chewing.

  “I think that was a fly.”

  “Yeah, the fly that just ate all the food that you spit up,” he shoved the fish plank into his mouth and bit off a large chunk. “Animal.”

  Sparky sloughed off the man’s comment, he was getting used to the way he talked. It was similar to Frank, but Basil appeared to actually be threatened by his presence. Sparky wasn’t completely sure why.

  “Am I making you uncomfortable?” Sparky asked.

  Basil wasn’t sure if the question could be dignified with a response. He turned his head, looking out the window as a car drove by, and then back. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you say something?”

  “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

  “Ha!” Basil chomped off another bite of his plank.

  “Is that a yes?”

  The jingling of bells interrupted them. Basil watched the door as two policemen entered in uniform. He tucked himself a little lower in his seat. “Shh.”

  Sparky watched the policemen enter over his shoulder. “Cops?” he whispered.

  “Yeah.”

  Basil had slowed down his chewing, keeping one eye on the men. They looked over and waved. Basil nodded, his cheeks bloated out like a chipmunk on a fis
h binge.

  Sparky lowered his voice. “Do you know them?”

  “No, and I don’t have a badge so let’s just hope they leave.”

  “Maybe we should just leave?”

  “No, no, no. We can’t just walk out when they enter, it’s too suspicious.”

  The uniformed men stood at the counter. They watched as the young lady waved the cardboard sign for the special in their faces.

  “Well, when can we leave?”

  “Now.”

  Basil grabbed his food and tossed it into the wooden carton. Sparky shoved the uneaten beans into his coat pocket and stood up. The two of them walked directly for the door.

  “Hey you!” One of the cops yelled as they hit the door.

  Basil turned slowly. “Yes?”

  “It’s not nice to leave a mess.”

  He pointed to the table. Basil looked back and saw all the plates and the tray still sitting there.

  “Almost forgot.” Basil pulled the keys from his pocket and held them out for Sparky. “Honey, why don’t you go get the car started?”

  “Honey?” Sparky took the keys from his hand.

  Basil pushed him out the door and returned casually to the table. He grabbed each item one by one and piled them onto the tray, disguising his guilt with a smile. He casually walked the tray to the trash bin and dumped the contents, waving to the officers as he walked out.

  Sparky was in the driver’s seat of the car, waiting for him when he walked out the door.

  “I said you couldn’t drive.”

  “Get in!” Sparky closed and locked the driver door. Basil climbed in the passenger side of the car.

  Inside the restaurant, the two policemen stared at each other and laughed aloud. The young lady requesting their order interjected. “What’s so funny?”

  “Those guys thought we were real cops!”

  Chapter 79

  “You are a truly interesting creature. Do you understand your relevance to the theory of evolution?” the doctor had been trying to crack the nut that was Oreo for some time. The goat was as stubborn to speak as he was proud.

  “This game is hardly worth playing, my friend. I will either get the answers I need from you or I’ll open your warm body and extract them from your DNA. It is truly up to you.”

  Oreo had been standing as motionless as possible for some time. He had refused to speak to the doctor. He didn’t trust Raymond Fudge, not from the moment that he had introduced himself. The man’s promise to grind up any goat that didn’t cooperate echoed in his mind, but the buck remained strong.