The Walnuts

  The two large men moved at Ricky and grabbed his arms. He tried to struggle out of their grasp, but appeared to let loose with another horrendous fart.

  ““That . . . was . . . not . . . me”!” Ricky yelled defiantly.

  The men were caught off guard, and the entire party surrounding the incident was thrown into another bout of sustained, hilarious laughter.

  Ricky was finally deflated, but still putting up a fuss, while the two men dragged him off. Mike gathered up Wanda and John and escorted them to the big doors out of the ballroom. Wanda was still laughing so hard; Mike had to help her walk.

  “What the hell happened in there?” he asked. “We were told there was a fight.”

  “There was supposed to be—” Wanda struggled to catch her breath—“but it didn’t quite turn out.”

  “What happened?”

  “You would’ve had to been there,” she gasped.

  *

  The two security men escorted Ricky, who was finally cooperating, toward the front entrance of the hotel. John and Wanda were following with Mike.

  “Hey, I want our money back!” shouted Ricky.

  “What are you talking about?” asked Mike.

  “We had tickets! I paid for them and I want my money back,” he shouted, passing the front desk.

  One of the managers came out and asked what the problem was.

  “I paid for the dance, and now we are being ejected, and it was no fault of ours. This guy”—he pointed at Mike—“wouldn’t let us in and started the whole thing.”

  “I thought it was a formal affair,” the manager said, noticing Wanda’s slippers.

  “I wasn’t informed of that!” Ricky declared. “Somebody hustled us to get our money, and I want it back or I’m going to call my lawyer.”

  *

  In the parking lot, Wanda confronted Ricky. “Okay, hand it over,” she said.

  “Hand what over?”

  “We went along with this plan of yours and came through. You’ve made a substantial profit you never expected, and I think John and I deserve our cut.”

  “No way. I planned it and it’s mine,” he said, walking toward a large group of people heading into the hotel. One was a particularly gorgeous lady. She and Ricky made eye contact.

  “John,” said Wanda quietly, “Heather was telling me about your talent for projecting sounds.”

  John gave her a nudge and nodded toward Ricky, who was slowing down to get the lady’s attention.

  Ricky stopped and extended his hand. “Good evening, you—”

  A loud “phhuufffttt” cut the still, evening air. Ricky shot straight up, puckering his butt cheeks again.

  The gorgeous lady gasped, snatched her hand back, and fled.

  “It . . . wasn’t . . . meeee!” Ricky wailed.

  “Oh, God!” Wanda said as she gasped for breath. “I can’t take any more of this, my stomach hurts.”

  She and John were holding each other up.

  *

  “Bob, I don’t know why I let you talk me into letting you stay over, especially after what you pulled at the formal tonight,” Danielle said, lying in the bed, propped up by the pillows.

  “Because I’m your snooky-wooky,” he said, standing next to the bed, with a concerned look on his face. “Aren’t I? . . . I wasn’t the only one at fault.”

  “Look, Bob, I’m tired and I don’t want to discuss this now. We can talk about it in the morning,” she said calmly.

  “Okay, honey bunny, you get some sleep,” he said and left the bedroom.

  Bob went into the living room and started watching TV. He sat there fidgeting for about five minutes, then got up and went back into Danielle’s bedroom. “You know, I wasn’t the only one to blame,” he said, walking up to her in bed.

  “Bob, I thought we agreed to talk about this in the morning?” Danielle said her voice a little louder now.

  “Yes, but it might be better to get it off our chests.”

  “We are just going to end up fighting. Let it go, because I don’t want to discuss it tonight. “Please”, just let me rest.”

  “You’re just lying there reading. We should get it out in the open now.”

  “Bob, what is there to discuss? You were a complete idiot tonight. Please,” she pleaded, “go watch one of your sappy old movies.”

  Bob left the bedroom again and went back to watch TV.

  Bob sat there for five more minutes, then jumped up and went to the bedroom again. “I think I deserve an apology.”

  “Bob, leave it alone. You’re the one that blew it out your ass, literally. Can’t you just once give me a break?”

  “I think it needs to be resolved,” he said. “And I don’t know why your friend John has to be here. And I did not do that. I would never disgrace myself like that.”

  “Bob, you distinguished yourself, now get out,” Danielle said sternly. “I asked you to buzz off, now please!”

  Bob went back into the living room and sat down. He watched TV for five more minutes. Then he was up, going back into the bedroom.

  “Bob!” shouted Danielle. “I’m not going to tell you again. Leave me alone!”

  Bob went back out and seemed to settle in. This time he lasted closer to ten minutes before getting up and heading to the bedroom.

  The shouting from the bedroom ended with Danielle screaming at the top of her lungs, “Leave me the fuck alone, or else!”

  Bob walked back into the living room with a queer, satisfied smile. He sat restlessly, pretending to watch TV, but he was really fidgeting. He jumped up and stalked off to the bedroom.

  The shouting started again. This time there was a big crash, and Bob came running out of the bedroom, frightened. Danielle was right behind him yelling maniacally. She had a big hairbrush in her hand.

  “Get the fuck out of this house!”

  Bob ran into the kitchen, Danielle right on his heels. Bob, using the island, managed to put some distance between them, but it was apparent that Danielle was looking for the kill. She leaned forward and swung the brush across the island, forcing him to jump back to get out of her reach. She swung the brush back-and-forth just inches from Bob’s head. It was clear that the island was no sanctuary, so he headed for the door leading to the garage, just managing to open it in time. He dashed into the garage only to find himself trapped. Danielle grabbed a short piece of PVC pipe that was lying against the wall.

  “You want to keep pushing me, huh?” she snarled, advancing toward him.

  Bob backed up, sliding against the car without turning his back to her. He looked terrified.

  “You . . . didn’t . . . want . . . to . . . let . . . it . . . rest! Well, you got your wish.” She continued to advance toward him with a sinister grin on her face, holding the pipe in both hands like a baseball bat. “I’m not waiting until tomorrow,” she said, winding up. “I’m going to bust your ass right now!”

  Bob had backed into the corner of the garage.

  ““Right here, right now”!”

  She swung the plastic pipe with all her might.

  Bob ducked for his life.

  ““I’ll teach you to keep screwing with me”!” she hissed maniacally as the pipe glanced off Bob’s shoulder. She tried again with a backhand swing, still not getting a solid, satisfying hit.

  “You’re crazy!” Bob cried, scrambling along the floor to the back of the car. “You leave me alone! You’re going to hurt me!”

  He made it to the other side of the car, but Danielle was right on him. She lined up for the kill. The PVC pipe whistled through the air and met the back of his head with a thwack and broken pieces of plastic flying in all directions. Bob’s glasses hung down from his ears. He hurriedly tried to get them back on securely, but Danielle threw down the shattered pipe and grabbed the glasses off his face.

  “Ahhh, yeeaah!” she cried.

  She twisted them violently with both hands until there was a breaking sound. She threw the destroyed glasses to the floor an
d stomped on them repeatedly. She straightened up after about the tenth stomp and calmly said, “That felt so good. Next time you mess with me, it’s going to be your dick.” She reached down and picked up the biggest remaining piece of Bob’s glasses. She handed it to him and went back into the house.

  “Did you see that crazy woman?” Bob asked John, who had been standing in the doorway to the kitchen, watching the whole thing. “She could have hurt me.”

  “Wow!” he said. “You provoked her, hoping for a little rise. I bet you didn’t expect “that”.”

  Chapter 20

  “What do you mean you’re leaving in two days? You just got here,” Danielle said. She and John were heading back to the ranch.

  “I was only scheduled to be here so long,” John explained. “It would be impossible to change those plans.”

  “Why are you in such a hurry to leave? You’ve had the best time of your life with us.”

  “Yes, I’m enjoying the Walnuts. You’re very interesting people.”

  “Then why go?” Danielle sounded mad.

  “I have another life. I like that one too.”

  “You need to get back to your wife.” Danielle sounded sad.

  “Yes, I promised to be back.”

  “Wake up, John. People change, things change. When you find something good, don’t walk away. Don’t blow it.”

  “But I “have” something good, and I don’t want to blow it.”

  “I still don’t see why you can’t stay a little longer,” she said, driving up to the gate.

  *

  When they got out of the car, Jed was hollering at Martha inside the house.

  “What? I know you didn’t need that card. Why’d you take it?”

  “The gin game is a staple of life for Jed and Martha,” John said, following Danielle up to the door. “Martha must be good. Jed hardly ever wins, but still insists on playing almost every day.”

  “Who can figure any of you out?” Danielle said coldly.

  “There you go, that’s more like it!” Jed shouted confidently as Danielle and John came through the door.

  Jed discarded quickly. Martha picked his card up almost instantly and laid her cards on the table.

  “Gin!”

  “What!” Jed howled, throwing his cards down on the table. “I don’t believe it! How did you manage to get that damn lucky?”

  “It has something to do with skill,” Martha said, getting up to go to the kitchen. “Don’t you have things to do? I’m tired of winning.”

  “I can’t believe how lucky you are.”

  *

  “Everyone tells me you’re leaving us soon,” said Martha. She and John were alone in the backyard.

  “Yes, my time here is up.”

  “Where’s your buddy, that Camper fool?”

  “He has something important to do.”

  “Yeah, it’s important he stays away from here,” Martha crowed.

  “What did he do?”

  “He tried to pass himself off as some sort of expert.”

  “An expert on what?”

  “On everything. But I gave him a reality check. He won’t be back.”

  “He has traveled extensively,” John said in Camper’s defense.

  “Big deal. I know what’s up around here, get my point?” Martha smiled.

  “Ah, out here, when the queen speaks, people listen,” he said.

  “Don’t get smart with me!” Martha snapped, and then hesitated. “And why the hell not? How many people get to command anything? It’s a privilege. Even if I’m not really entitled—no one ever is, maybe a couple of dogs I’ve had, but no one else—who’s the fool not to take advantage of it? And you tell anyone I said any of this, I will kick your ass all the way back to that planet they all think you came from!” She gave John a cold, serious look. “Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  *

  Jed and Danielle were making some snacks in the kitchen.

  “Why are you giving John the cold shoulder?” Jed asked.

  “Cause he’s a butt-head.”

  “What’d he do?”

  “He won’t tell me where he’s from, and I don’t trust him,” said Danielle, annoyed.

  “Oh, that,” he said. “I know, so you don’t have to worry. He’s a good man.”

  “He told you?” Danielle shrieked.

  “No, I guessed right and he confirmed it. You got the same deal if I remember correctly.”

  “That S.O.B!” she shouted and stomped off.

  *

  “Bob is coming out,” said Danielle, walking into the family room.

  “What the hell are you thinking?” asked Martha. “I don’t want that crazy S.O.B. out here!”

  “He insisted. I told him that I had to come out because we’ve all been invited to Harold and Madeline’s. He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

  *

  Jed was outside when Bob drove up.

  “Hello, Bob,” he said. “How’s the business side of things?”

  “Too much work and too little fun, as usual. And how are things at your end?”

  “I don’t have much to add to that. Look, Bob, I respect your work ethic and all that—God knows I don’t get to see much of that around this bunch—but please try not to short out.” Jed watched Bob stiffen. “Will you do that for me?”

  “It’s Danielle. She does that to me.”

  “Danielle is Danielle. Nothing you can possibly do will change that. For your own good, you should be running as far and as fast as you can.”

  “I do not give up!” declared Bob.

  Jed sighed. “Yeah, Bob, we all know that,” he said as Bob headed for the house.

  *

  Martha stopped Bob in the hall. “You behave yourself, you hear me?”

  “You should be talking to your children. They’re the ones that start everything,” said Bob, looking over Martha’s shoulder at Wanda, who was sitting at the morning table.

  “They can’t help themselves,” Martha said. “You’re too easy.”

  “I find it difficult to live life as a constant joke.” Bob looked at Wanda, who was smiling at him.

  “Oh, Christ!” said Martha. “If you’d learn to laugh at yourself once in a while, you might be okay.”

  Bob was looking around for Danielle. “Where is she?”

  “She’s down by the lake talking to John,” said Wanda.

  “What does she see in that guy?” he growled.

  “He’s leaving, going home.”

  “I suppose you got a real charge out of the formal?” he asked Wanda.

  “Yeah, you didn’t let us down.”

  “Why do you insist on making my life miserable?”

  “Bob, when are you going to learn?” Wanda was shaking her head. “The Walnuts pick on everyone. It’s nothing personal until you make it that way.”

  “I just want Danielle and I to be able to have a life separate from all this craziness, and then everything would be all right.”

  “It’s never going to happen, Bob.”

  *

  Danielle had John cornered just off the porch. “I don’t believe that crap about you being an alien. Things like that just don’t happen.”

  “Mother, Ferkle just drove up,” said Heather, coming outside.

  “What?” Danielle sounded like Jed. “What’s he doing here?” She turned quickly and headed for the door, hustling to intercept Ferkle, the pool guy, before he got to the house.

  *

  “What are you doing here?” asked Danielle out at the parking area, annoyed.

  “I came to . . . to see you,” Ferkle declared with a big, stupid, sloppy grin on his face.

  Danielle looked bewildered. “I didn’t invite you.”

  Ferkle’s face fell blank. “But I . . . I th-thought you did?”

  “I did not!”

  “You . . . you”—his voice quivered—“said I had . . . had to see the ranch.” He looked down like a scolded puppy. “That
. . . that I wouldn’t believe it.” Ferkle’s voice begged for forgiveness.

  “I meant maybe sometime, but not now.” Danielle’s anger was diminishing.

  “Well, I . . . I can leave,” said Ferkle, sniveling. His shoulders sagged as he turned around.

  Danielle watched him drag his battered ego halfway to his car before she finally relented. “Oh, you’re here. I might as well show you around.”

  Danielle headed inside with Ferkle right behind her, the big sloppy grin back on his face.

  “So, you’re Ferkle aka Poool Booy, huh?” Martha said when Danielle introduced them. “What the hell kind of name is that?”

  “I’m named after my grandfather,” he said proudly.

  “Hmmm.” Martha was contemplating something. “Your mother and her father apparently had some issues.”

  “Mother!” said Danielle, trying to cut off the attack.

  “I don’t understand,” said Ferkle.

  “Well, anyone that would name a poor, innocent boy “Ferkle”, even if it was their own father’s name, was out to get even,” Martha stated.

  “Mother, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Danielle.

  “Yes, I do! What else could have happened to screw this guy up so bad?” Martha gave Ferkle a sympathetic look. Jed was standing by, chuckling.

  Heather leaned over to John and whispered, “Grandma’s getting in her licks because Ferkle’s been a pest, but it’ll backfire. Watch my mother. She’ll bend over backwards to defend this clown now that Grandma has started something.”

  “So, now that we’ve determined that your mother didn’t like you—,” Martha continued.

  “My mother just doesn’t understand me.” Ferkle’s lip quivered.

  “Ah, and why does the rest of the family dislike you?” she asked, kindness in her voice.

  “Mother!” said Danielle.

  “Families are difficult,” he said softly, looking around sheepishly.

  “How well I know!” declared Martha. “Heather tells me that you’re a very lonely guy.”

  Danielle gave her a dirty look. Wanda, who was standing on the porch just outside the door, laughed loud enough for everyone to hear.

  “This is my father, Jed,” said Danielle, hoping to get Martha off poor Ferkle’s back.

  “It’s so nice to meet you, sir.” Ferkle extended his hand. His big slobbering grin was back. “Danielle tells me that you are a very successful businessman. I enjoy meeting people that I have something in common with.”

  Jed didn’t comment. He just shook Ferkle’s hand.

  “And you know Bob, I think.” Danielle pointed to Bob, who was sitting in the family room, glaring at Ferkle.