The Walnuts
“Wrongs can be righted.”
“No, they can’t! You don’t know anything, you . . . freak!”
“I know you’re the Queen of the Walnuts,” he said, walking toward her.
“What has that got to do with that woman in my house, and your blatant disregard of my privacy?”
“Absolutely nothing. That’s what I’m getting at. Since when does a real queen have to sweat the small stuff?”
Martha looked at him with her patented death stare but didn’t say anything.
“The queen is the queen and is responsible for the continuity of her court,” he explained, taking her hand and looking into her eyes. “And no one can take that away from her.”
“Get the hell out of my room,” Martha said quietly.
*
A short time later she came back onto the porch. “Get the queen a beer,” she ordered John.
“With pleasure, Your Majesty,” John said, going to the kitchen.
“Danielle, get me those damn clippers. I can’t stand looking at him anymore.” Martha pointed to John, and then turned to Penelope. “You may have won Nut Head over with a little bit of cash, but you don’t fool me, sister. You pull any of your stunts, and I won’t be so big about it next time.”
“I told everyone. I’ve made mine and now I want to share,” declared Penelope.
“You only share your money, sister!” said Martha. “You stay the hell away from my husband.”
“Don’t worry. I only seduced him back then to get the leather company.”
“What?” Jed sounded hurt.
“But, Penelope,” Chucky interrupted. “I thought it was because Jed could get no head.”
“I don’t want to hear any of that!” shouted Martha. “It’s disgusting, and I won’t have anything—”
“But that’s one of my missions—head for Jed!”
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stick to the downtrodden in Mexico,” said Martha.
Jed had gone to the kitchen, out of Martha’s sight, and was swinging his arms at Chucky, gesturing for him to cut the conversation.
Chucky plowed on. “Now, Marthie, we appreciate your concern,” he said, “but we were only looking out for Jed, you know. Because every man should get head once in a while.”
“Don’t you start that again!” said Martha.
“That’s what it was all about in the first place,” said Paula. “Poor Jed was a married man in need of head, and you refused.”
“I still do. I think that it is just revolting.”
“No head for Jed,” said Chucky. “Penelope felt sorry for him and wanted to do something about it, and that’s where all the trouble started.”
“I said, “No head for Jed”!” screamed Martha. “I’ll give anyone five hundred bucks to off the old fool.”
“I’ll take it!” said Chucky. “I can use the money to free the prisoners in Mexico.”
“Jed, write him a check,” said Martha.
“What? Use your own damn money.”
“You’re the old fool, for Christ’s sake. You should have to pay, because I’m not spending my money.”
“Well, I’m not going to off him if I’m not going to get paid,” said Chucky.
“Lucky for you, Dad, no one’s willing to put up the cash,” Danielle said, smiling at her father.
“So what are you going to do with your share of the loot?” Jed asked Chucky.
“Because of Penelope, I’m about to undertake my life’s work and—”
“And free all the prisoners in Mexico,” said Martha, cutting in.
“That’s right. There’s an unjust people that run that country, and it is up to someone like me to free the people from tyranny.”
“You’re not taking the motor home,” said Paula, taking a big gulp from her glass.
“Why not? It’s half mine,” whined Chucky.
“Because you wreck it every time I let you drive it, and besides, you don’t have a license anymore, remember?”
“A mere technicality.”
“Not if you get pulled over,” said Paula. “You don’t like jail, and if you get caught driving again, that’s where you’re going. Besides, you’d never make it out of the gate.”
“I shall procure my own transportation then. I shall not be thwarted!” said Chucky, raising his half-empty glass in triumph. “They need me down there!” He took a long pull from his glass. “And when I’m done with my mission, I’ll be back to get Jed some head.”
*
“Grandma!” shouted Heather, rushing into the family room the next morning with a good-looking boy following her. “Chucky is standing out on the road wearing only a bathrobe. There’s a rusty old sword stuck in the sash, and he’s waving a pistol. He’s got a sign that says “Mexico”, and something about prisoners.” Heather stopped, gulped for air, and then continued, “I’m so embarrassed. Every time I meet a boy, this happens.” Heather took another deep breath. “And there’s a huge banner hanging from your gate that says “Head for Jed”. You can read it from the road.”
“I didn’t know you had left,” replied Martha. “I guess Chucky must have gotten up early this morning.”
“Grandma, I went home. And that is no excuse for a crazy man being here. I get totally embarrassed again and it’s all because Chucky was up too early?”
“Now, dear, it’s not that bad. It’s not like he’s a relative or something,” said Martha.
“Chucky always falls apart when he comes to the ranch,” Paula said, walking in.
“That’s no excuse either!” wailed Heather.
“But it’s a tradition,” Paula tried to explain. “Chucky has a very intense sense of responsibility. The Walnuts expect it, and he tries not to let people down, especially his Mexican friends.”
“Where’s Mother?” Heather huffed, finally giving up on them.
“I don’t know, somewhere with Space John?” said Martha. “Don’t bother me. I’m not feeling my best.”
“Got a hangover again, huh?” sneered Heather.
“What do you expect? They bring that woman into my house, and I’m supposed to maintain?”
“If you were smart, you’d figure out some way to make “her” suffer, not yourself,” said Heather.
“Oh, you think you’re so clever. You just wait until you’re my age and have to deal with everything.”
“Oh, Grandma, quit being so melodramatic. I’m going to find Mother,” Heather went out to the porch and the young man followed. “If you find her first, tell her Aunt Wanda called and she’s coming down for a few days.”
*
The Walnuts and their guests, including Heather and her new young man, had gathered on the porch. Danielle was giggling with someone on the phone just inside the door.
“I don’t know. The last time.” . . .
“Are you sure?” . . .
“Well, if you promise.” . . .
“You got me at a good time. I sure do need a little vacation.” . . .
“Oh, I can imagine. It must be a nice car.” . . .
“You promise there won’t be any problems this time?” . . .
“Well, okay, if you say so,” she said and hung up.
“Who was that?” Heather asked in her snotty tone, walking through the door.
“None of your business,” Danielle said in her own snotty tone.
“It was that idiot, Gus, wasn’t it?” Heather demanded.
“What makes you think that?”
“I heard you say something about a car, and that means Gus.”
“I’ve got to go,” said Danielle, hurriedly looking for her purse.
“Mother!” said Heather with her hands on hips. “Where are you going?”
Danielle was already headed to the door.
“We need to go home, and I need to pack,” she said. “I’m going on a trip, so I’ll see you all later. Come on, Heather, and I don’t want to hear any of your crap!”
“It is Gus
, isn’t it?” Heather wailed. “You’re going on a trip with Gus! Mother, after what he did to you the last time?”
“Hey, I’m just going to Phoenix, so just hush. And I’m not going anywhere with him, I’m just doing something for him.”
Martha jumped in. “Same thing,” she added. “If the devil called and needed a sucker to accompany him, you’d be packed before the phone was cold.”
“Hey, he’s giving me a couple thousand dollars just to drive his car back.”
“Danielle, remember the last time you got involved in one of his deals?” Martha asked.
“Two thousand dollars is two thousand dollars,” added Jed.
“Oh, shut up, you old fool! Money is not the only issue here.”
“Nothing happened, so stop criticizing me,” said Danielle.
“Last time Gus had a briefcase with a half a million in cash in it, in a car that you delivered for him,” Martha said.
“She’s so dumb,” added Heather.
Danielle noticed John leaning up against the railing of the porch. “John, you’ve never been to Arizona. Want to go?”
“Oh God, Mother, don’t get him involved in one of your schemes,” pleaded Heather. “He could get thrown in jail.”
“Well, thank you, daughter of mine!” yelled Danielle. “What about me? What if I get thrown in jail? You don’t care?”
“Hey, you’re the one that’s falling for Gus’s bullshit, and you know the score. But John’s so innocent. They put him in jail, and he’ll end up some guy’s butt buddy.”
“Don’t talk like that!” shouted Danielle.
“Where do you learn this stuff?” added Martha, disgusted.
“Well, it’s true!” said Heather.
“Stop being so dramatic!” said Danielle. “Well, John, what about it? Want to go on a little road trip? It’ll be fun. Gus is sending a plane for us.”
“A plane?” John sounded uncertain.
“Yes, an airplane, the things that travel through the air? You must fly all the time if you travel as much as Camper says you do.”
“Oh, yes, I traveled quite a distance to get here, but . . .”
“But what?” Danielle started walking out again. “You coming, or are you chicken?”
John looked worried but started after her.
“Been nice knowing you, John!” Martha shouted.
Chapter 16
“We are going to have a blast!” said Danielle, getting out of the car. She looked at John. “You don’t seem too excited.”
“Oh, I’m okay. It’s just the pace you run at,” he said.
“I’m not about to slow down because I might never get started again,” she said, rushing toward a gate.
Behind the gate, many airplanes were parked, and one was taxiing in from the runway.
“Are you sure about this Gus guy?” John asked. “Everybody seemed a little put off that you’d trust him.”
“Gus is okay—a little eccentric maybe because he’s an anthropologist and spends a lot of time away. Are you worried about the plane ride?”
“A bit . . . maybe . . . Camper said they can fall out of the sky.”
“Sometimes. So let’s just hope this one doesn’t,” she said, going into the office.
John stayed outside and watched the airplane taxi toward them.
“Perfect timing,” shouted Danielle, running back out the door. “This is our ride! Come on, John, you fuddy duddy. I told you this is going to be a blast.” She ran past him as the engine in front lost its power and the propeller slowed, then stopped. The engine in back kept running.
Danielle went toward the machine and John followed.
As Danielle walked under the wing, the door on the side of the plane popped open. The top portion swung completely up, followed by the bottom section swinging down. The bottom section had stairs inside, and Danielle stepped on the bottom one and with two steps was inside the little plane.
John shrugged his shoulders and followed her up the steps. Danielle had taken the front seat, next to the pilot. She sat forward; pulling the seat with her so John could get in the back.
“Grab that strap there,” the pilot instructed Danielle after John was seated, “and pull up.” With little effort the bottom section of the door rotated up and locked into place. Next she grabbed the handle on the top section and pulled down. It also fell into place with little effort. As soon as the two door handles came together, the noise from the back engine dimmed considerably.
The pilot reached across Danielle and twisted the top handle, locking the doors in place. He turned to the controls in front of him and flipped a switch, which caused the front propeller to start spinning again. It spun faster, and with a muffled cough, the engine caught. A small puff of smoke rushed past the bottom of the compartment, where John was looking at the ground.
“I’m Jake. We should be getting into Phoenix in a little less than an hour,” the pilot said. “Buckle up, please.”
“Hi, I’m Danielle, and this is Space John,” Danielle pointed back to John.
“Space John?” asked the pilot.
“Yeah, he’s not from around here.”
“Oh,” he said, pushing two levers forward. The engines revved up and the plane started to move. The pilot talked to someone on his radio as the plane gained speed and headed out from the buildings toward a large open area.
The pilot braked and turned onto a long, straight stretch of concrete. He slowed the plane a little more and pushed the two levers forward. There was an immediate sound of power as both engines revved up and the propeller in front became a blur.
The little plane shook at first, but when the pilot released the brakes and advanced the levers completely, it shot forward with surprising force, pushing John back against his seat. The ground started rushing by as the plane accelerated.
The pilot pulled back on the wheel in front of him, and the nose of the plane lifted slightly. A moment later, there was a slight bump. The pilot pulled the controls back a little more, and the nose lifted into the sky.
John looked out the side window and watched the ground falling rapidly away. The pilot and Danielle were talking, but John stayed quiet, watching the ground get farther and farther away.
Daniel turned around. “Hey, John, Jake wants you to open that compartment right behind you and get the parachutes out now that we’re high enough to jump.”
“Parachutes?” asked John.
“Yeah, parachutes. You know what they are?”
“Ah,” John hesitated, “is there something wrong?”
“No, silly, if something “goes” wrong.” Danielle sounded earnest.
John gulped. “Huh?” He listened intently to hear if anything was amiss. “Is something wrong?”
The pilot was shaking his head, laughing. He finally turned to John. “I’m afraid the lady is not very sensitive. There is absolutely nothing wrong, and there aren’t any parachutes.”
John gulped again. “No parachutes?”
The pilot turned back to the front, still shaking his head and laughing.
*
A half-hour later, the pilot pulled the two levers back, and the plane began to sink slowly, losing altitude as the ground came closer and closer. When they rushed over the concrete, the pilot pulled the levers all the way back and moved the control wheel back and forward in tiny movements. John watched the concrete come up to meet them, and with a slight bump, they were back down.
*
“Is that the car Gus wants me to drive?” Danielle asked the pilot excitedly as they taxied up to a low, wide, silver sports car. Tall, chunky Gus stood next to it.
“That’s the one,” said the pilot.
*
“Why the heck do you want me to drive that?” Danielle asked, walking up to Gus.
“Man, you get prettier every day,” he said.
“Yeah, yeah, what’s the catch, Gus?”
He shook his head. “Can’t take a compliment, as usual.”
 
; “Your compliments can get complicated,” she said. Her previous excitement had turned into caution.
John seemed impressed by her response.
“I just bought it, but the seat and pedals need to be repositioned at the factory in L.A.,” Gus explained. “The guy I bought it from is about your size. There is no way I can drive it until it’s readjusted. I figured you’d have a good time taking it back to L.A. for me.”
“There’s nothing illegal in there?” Danielle asked, pointing to the car.
“I told you I’d never do that to you again,” replied Gus. “How are the Walnuts?”
“Why don’t you stop out there and see for yourself? They’re a little ruffled at you for never calling.”
“I’ve been really busy.”
“What kind of car is this?” asked Danielle. “It looks like Bruce Almighty’s car.”
“All right, Danielle!” Gus grinned. “It is very similar, kind of a knock off.”
“Oh, man,” Danielle said, “this is going to be fun. How come the guy that sold it didn’t want this fantastic car?” She sounded suspicious.
“He never figured out how to drive it,” Gus said, shaking his head. “It’s got a really sensitive clutch and over eight hundred horsepower. It is not a car for the fainthearted.”
“Oh, wow! This is going to be so great.” She looked at John. “Oh, geez, I’m sorry, Gus. This is John. He’s doing a story on the Walnuts.”
“What kind of story?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she replied. “Ask him.”
Gus looked to John but didn’t say anything.
“My readers will be thrilled to read about the Walnuts. They are an unusual bunch,” John offered.
“Can’t argue with you there,” replied Gus. “Danielle, I had Jake make you a map to get out of here and to the highway, then a route to follow to L.A., then to the factory in Huntington Beach. I’ll be right behind you.” Gus turned to John. “Don’t look so frightened, John, because Danielle here”—Gus put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed—“can handle most anything. You don’t think I’d let just anyone drive this,” he said, patting the top of the car.
*
John and Danielle could only get into the car by putting their legs in first, holding themselves up using the doors and seats, and then sliding their rears into the seats, which left them almost lying down.
Danielle fit perfectly like Gus had figured. The steering wheel and pedals were just right for her. She gripped the wheel and followed Gus’s instructions while he stooped beside the car. There was a red button on the dash next to the steering column. After flipping a couple of switches, as instructed, Danielle pushed the button. The engine, which was right behind them, started to spin over and suddenly caught with a tremendous roar.