The Walnuts

“Goddamn him! This always happens.”

  Jed walked out into the warm sun, but before he even had a chance to sit, Martha snapped at him.

  “Jed, that looney countess took the old bike out of the garage and headed for town.”

  “What?” exclaimed Jed. “The tires are all rotten.”

  “We know that! You get in your truck and go see if you can find her.”

  “What? That crazy Contessa is not my problem! Where the hell is Ricky?”

  “Wake up, Nut Head. You can’t count on him!” shouted Martha. “And she’s ‘going’ to be your problem if something happens in town.”

  “I haven’t even had breakfast,” Jed grumbled, heading back into the house.

  *

  A half-hour later Jed came driving back into the ranch, the countess sitting in the back of his pickup drinking from a large bottle. He parked the truck and walked up to the patio.

  “Where’d you find her?” asked Martha.

  “Down at the country store,” Jed said, shaking his head. “This is not good.”

  “What the hell are you muttering about?”

  “That’s a half gallon of vodka she’s got, and she’s drinking it straight.”

  “Oh, boy.” Martha sounded concerned.

  “She ruined the rims,” he added.

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake.” Martha laughed. “That old piece of junk, and you’re worried about it.”

  “That was a very valuable bike!”

  “It’s a piece of junk, Jed!”

  “It certainly is now.”

  “Grandma,” Heather said, coming back out to the porch with Danielle. “The Countess of Hook is unpacking her clothes in the guest bedroom.”

  “Oh Christ,” said Martha, jumping up. “Jed, you get in there and stop this right now. I don’t want her thinking she’s going to stay.”

  “What? Why me?”

  “You’re the one that brought her back.”

  “What? You’re the one that insisted I go get her!”

  “Goddamn it! I’m not going to sit here and argue with you while she makes herself at home!” “Too late,” Danielle said. “She just told me she’ll be staying for four months, and then gave me her breakfast order.”

  “That’s it!” Martha screeched and headed inside. “I’m the only one who gives orders around here!”

  Jed was leaning against the railing of the porch with a silly grin on his face.

  “What’s so amusing?” Danielle asked.

  “The irresistible force meets the drunken object,” Jed replied, laughing.

  “Oh, you laugh now. You know how Mother gets when she’s defied. You’re the one that’s going to catch most of the blast.”

  Jed stopped laughing. “Where the hell is that damn Ricky? This is all his fault!”

  “Of course it’s all his fault. Why do you think he disappeared?”

  Just then Martha’s yelling streamed out of the house and everyone rushed inside.

  *

  “You can’t stay here!” shouted Martha, throwing the countess’s clothing in a suitcase.

  “I am Countess, and it is customary to honor a royal figure in your home for four months,” said the Countess, grabbing her clothes and pulling them out.

  “Like hell! You’re out of here now, sister!” shouted Martha, throwing her clothes back in.

  “People will come from miles around to see a countess,” said the Countess calmly, taking the clothes out again. “You will have many more friends, you will see.”

  “You’re leaving now!” shouted Martha, throwing the clothes back in.

  “You don’t have any royalty,” the Countess said placidly, as she grabbed the clothes, pulling them out again.

  “We have royalty!” shouted Martha. “We LaFluers are all aristocrats!”

  “You should have authentic royalty.”

  “I’m the only goddamn queen here!” Martha yelled. She threw the clothes back in the suitcase, slammed the top down, and tried to lock it. “And that’s the way it’s going to stay. You are out, now!”

  “Phuu, you’re not a real queen. You don’t have any royal blood,” scoffed the Countess.

  “I ‘am’ the royalty in this house, and you want to see some blood?” Martha’s face had taken on a ruddy, sinister look.

  Danielle and Heather were watching and laughing

  “Grandma, how come you’re giving her your suitcase?” asked Heather.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Dad gave you that suitcase for Christmas,” said Danielle.

  “That son of—” Martha snarled, looking at the expensive bag. She shook her head and redirected her attention. “I don’t care! Just get her the hell out of here!”

  She glared at Jed.

  “What?” asked Jed. “That’s a very expensive suitcase.”

  “Oh, shut up! You just get her out of here now,” ordered Martha again.

  “Mother,” said Danielle, Dad’s right. It’s part of the set.”

  Martha turned on Danielle, a nasty smile on her face. “Well, then, if you’re so concerned about it, she can go to ‘your’ place.”

  “Ah, it’s not that expensive,” Danielle said quickly.

  “Yeah, that’s what I figured.” Martha grabbed the suitcase. “She is going now!” She started to drag it out of the room, but the Countess grabbed the other end and was pulling equally hard to stay.

  “Barbarians, nothing but barbarians in this country,” shouted the Countess. She and Martha were at a standstill, neither one gaining any ground with the suitcase. “I should not have to deal with this,” proclaimed the Countess as Ricky walked into the room.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, surveying the situation.

  “Ricky, get her out of here now!” shouted Martha, giving up on the suitcase and going to the closet.

  Martha grabbed the big black bag full of food and dragged it out.

  “I don’t know,” Ricky said, rubbing his chin. “When she makes her mind up, it’s awful hard—”

  “Get her out!” shrieked Martha, dropping the bag and stomping out of the room.

  Ricky went over to the Countess, who was pushing the black bag back into the closet.

  “Now, Mulva,” he said in a soft, respectful voice, “you know how delicate diplomacy can become when you’re forced to deal”—Ricky looked down the hall to make sure his mother was really gone—‘with commoners’.

  Jed was standing in the door with a contemptuous look on his face, but didn’t react to the commoner comment.

  “I should not have to be subjected to this type of disrespect,” said the Countess. “If my father was still alive, he would have these people shot!”

  “What?” Jed shouted. “Who the hell does she think she is?”

  “Dad, not now,” said Ricky.

  “Why do we have to put up with this?”

  “Because she stands to inherit millions,” Ricky said quietly, pushing Jed back into the hall.

  “Oh, horse pucky,” Jed exclaimed, looking back in at the Countess, who was checking inside the black bag, confirming her food stash was still there.

  “I’m not kidding, she’s next in line to a great fortune,” said Ricky.

  “And where is this great fortune?”

  “It’s tied up in some court.”

  “What court?” Jed was clearly not impressed.

  “Some kind of military tribunal.”

  “What? Do you even know what a tribunal is?” Jed asked. “What did the father do?”

  “I guess he got carried away and a few people disappeared, but when it’s cleared up, she will get the money,” Ricky explained.

  “What? She’s not going to get diddly squat!” announced Jed. “She’s probably lucky they’re not looking for her too.”

  “Well, they kind of are,” Ricky said sheepishly.

  “What?” shouted Jed. “And you bring her here!” He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “She’s probably an internat
ional criminal, and it doesn’t bother you?”

  “Hey, I didn’t shoot anybody, . . . and don’t forget the money.”

  “The money! How can you be so damn dumb? Besides, I’m sure you’d show up here to share your part of the loot.” He looked his son straight in the eye. “I don’t care if you’re working one of your schemes, just do it someplace else.” He poked Ricky in the chest. “If you don’t get her out of here now, life won’t be worth living. Get my drift?”

  Jed walked away and Ricky went back into the bedroom. “I just got a call from the embassy,” he told the Countess. “They need your testimony. We need to get you on a plane right away.”

  The Countess grabbed the suitcase and her bag and started dragging them out of the room. “Daddy needs me!” she announced.

  *

  The Countess was calmly sitting on the suitcase outside under the porte-cochere. Clothes were poking out of the suitcase on all sides and the Countess was drinking more vodka. She took a drink, held the bottle high and shouted, “I’m coming, Daddy. I’m coming to clear your name.”

  Martha was shaking her head as she watched the Countess through the window. “Ricky, where did you meet this woman?” she asked

  “In a seminar. They claimed they could train you to have three-hour orgasms.”

  “And you believed them?” Martha laughed.

  “Oh, Mother,” said Danielle, giggling. “Ricky probably took the class because he knew there would be desperate, horny women there.”

  “Well, that certainly explains it. And that woman was in the group?”

  “She was the instructor,” said Ricky proudly.

  “I would think,” said Danielle, “that after getting a glimpse of her, she would tend to dull the pleasures.”

  “Or destroy them entirely,” added Jed.

  “How the hell did you get hooked up with her?” Martha asked.

  “I met her at a party later,” Ricky confessed.

  “What?” asked Jed. “Didn’t you think it was kind of strange when she started taking all the food?”

  “She didn’t do it there,” Ricky stated. “It was a real classy party.”

  “Oh!” shouted Martha. “And we’re of a lower order, huh? But, of course, it has to happen here in front of all our friends. I’m so embarrassed.”

  “It wasn’t my fault, you’re the ones that let her get booze,” Ricky said.

  “She rode your old bike to the store,” said Martha.

  “That old thing? It doesn’t have any tires,” said Ricky.

  “That was a very valuable bike,” Jed added.

  “Oh, shut up about the bike!” Martha yelled at him. “Just get her the hell out of here, both of you!”

  *

  Jed and Ricky were out next to the pickup arguing about what to do with the Countess, who was still sucking on the vodka bottle.

  “All these decisions you want me to make, I don’t know where to begin,” said Ricky.

  “You don’t have any problem when there’s something to gain for yourself,” said Jed. “It’s just when somebody else might benefit that you are reluctant to act.”

  *

  “Sir, I’m sorry, we cannot possibly let her on the plane. She is obviously intoxicated,” said the ticket agent.

  “You don’t understand, it is imperative that she leaves,” Jed stumbled, “ah . . . gets home. You understand?”

  “That woman is not our problem,” the agent said, gesturing to the Countess, who was lying on her luggage and snoring. The rest of the passengers had noticed and were keeping their distance.

  “She won’t be any trouble, for Christ’s sake.” Jed was getting desperate. “Just give her a couple of drinks, and she won’t be any problem.”

  “That is not our policy. Besides, sir, I have heard from the baggage attendant that her luggage is full of spoiling food,” said the agent with a devious smirk.

  “You don’t understand!” shouted Jed, causing people to look.

  “My suggestion, sir, would be the bus,” the agent said sternly. “Now, if you force me to call security . . .”

  “No,” said Jed, backing away from the counter. “Thank you for your help. By the way, you’re not hungry, are you?”

  *

  Jed was really angry, having struck out at the airport. They were in the pickup with the Countess still sitting in the back. “Can’t you at least get the bottle away from her?”

  “You take it away from her,” said Ricky. “Besides, she starts to sober up and we’re really going to have a problem, trust me.”

  Jed glared at him. “You’re going to cough up the money for this! I don’t know how I’m going to collect, considering it’s you, but I will! And I do not, and I repeat, do not ever want you to bring another woman to anything remotely involving the family ever again! Do you read me?”

  “It’s not my fault, you got her drunk.”

  “Aaauuugghh!” howled Jed.

  *

  Ricky and Jed were trying to get the Countess across the bus terminal to the ticket counter, but it was difficult. She was still bombed and not cooperative in the least. Ricky stayed with her in the waiting area while Jed went to the ticket counter.

  “One, one-way ticket to San Francisco, please.”

  “The name, please?”

  “Oh, it would be for her.” Jed pointed back over his shoulder.

  “What is she doing?”

  “She’s waiting to go to San Francisco.”

  “Is she planning to take our garbage with her?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  The agent pointed over Jed’s shoulder. He turned to see the Countess rummaging around in a big, plastic garbage receptacle. She had taken the lid off and her upper body was completely inside. She was throwing items out onto the floor.

  “Oh, Christ.”

  Jed hurried toward the Countess and looked around for Ricky. He spotted him on the other side of the waiting area looking at some posters.

  “Goddamn it, Ricky, can’t you even watch her? Get your ass over here!”

  People were watching the commotion.

  “I didn’t want anyone to think I was with her. It’s embarrassing,” Ricky shouted back.

  “Now, Countess,” said Jed, trying to sound polite, “don’t you think you have enough for the trip?”

  “It will be a long plane ride,” she said from inside the bin.

  “Not really. The plane will go up and then right back down.”

  Jed tried to pull her out by her arm.

  “Ricky, get the hell over here!” he shouted again. “Please, Countess, you need to hurry. The bus, ah, the plane is getting ready to leave.”

  “Well, I’m not ready, so they’ll just have to wait,” she said, still inside the bin.

  Ricky finally walked up.

  “Damn it, Ricky; get her bags over to the counter. At least do ‘something.’”

  The Countess backed out of the container.

  “Good,” Jed told her, “now we need to talk to the agent, so be nice and you’ll be on the plane shortly.”

  “Oh goody, will they be serving cocktails?” she asked, turning her face up toward Jed, who got a blast of her breath.

  “Oooohh,” he gagged and backed away.

  The ticket agent had come out from behind the counter and was sniffing the Countess’s luggage. He looked up to Jed and said, “You can’t be serious.”

  “You don’t understand,” begged Jed. “I will pay double if you—”

  “No way, mister.”

  “Triple?”

  “I think you’d better leave, sir.”

  “How much?” Jed asked, all hope gone.

  The agent pointed to the exit with a stern look.

  “But I am the Countess of Moldavia and I want my plane ride!” shouted the Countess as Jed and Ricky dragged her and her bags out of the terminal.

  *

  Jed was waiting inside the truck in the parking lot of a motel. The Countess was
still in the back of the pickup.

  Ricky was outside talking to his mother on his phone. “They wouldn’t let her on the plane. She’s drunk and her luggage stinks.”

  “Put her on a bus then, but don’t bother coming back here until she is gone,” said Martha. “I’m serious, Ricky!”

  “We already tried, and it ain’t going to happen!”

  “Then you’re going to drive her.”

  “You can’t expect me to just change my plans! I’m not going back for a few days, so you’ll just have to—”

  “She’s one of those wackos you always take up with. How come you never expect this sort of thing when it happens all the time? Answer me that, will you?”

  “It doesn’t happen every time, and you can’t blame me. You guys shouldn’t have let her drink. I could have told you that.”

  “You never said anything, and yet you knew she wasn’t supposed to drink? Besides, remember the party? And that was ‘before’ she got drunk.”

  “Well, I heard there could be some trouble if she drank, but—”

  “But horse pucky! You didn’t say a goddamn thing. And if you knew she wasn’t supposed to drink, why didn’t you watch her?”

  “I didn’t see her drink anything,” whined Ricky. “It wasn’t my fault!”

  Martha’s voice roared out of the phone.

  “Oh, you were too busy getting stoned, so it ‘was’ your fault. As usual, you screw up and then walk away. Well, you are taking care of this mess.”

  “Where the hell am I going to take her?”

  “She’s not coming back here. She’s out of here, and now she’s your problem.”

  “What am I supposed to do with her?” Ricky sighed.

  “Take her to a motel.”

  “They won’t take her either, we already tried.”

  “Boy,” said Martha, laughing, “you got yourself a real problem.”

  “You don’t understand because you have no sympathy for anyone,” said Ricky. “My friend paid me to get her out of his place for a while because he had some important people coming.”

  “Ah, now we get to the plot. You got money to take her someplace, so you brought her here to save a buck, and now you don’t want to spend the money.”

  “Well, then I won’t make any, and you can’t believe what I’ve had to put up with.”

  “I don’t care. We’re leaving to go to Red’s wedding in the morning, so no one is going to be here anyway. You do remember we’re going to the wedding?”

  “That’s right. I forgot. Man, I’ve got to get rid of her.”

  “I don’t think Red is expecting you,” said Martha warily.

  “Oh, come on, I haven’t seen Red in quite a while. He can’t still be mad.”

  “Ricky,” Martha explained, “people tend to stay angry with you for quite some time, or haven’t you noticed?”