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MONDAY MORNING WAS ANOTHER BIG day.
“Is this another celebration lunch at McKinney’s Café?” Mike said in a kidding way.
“Yes, sir, it is truly that. I think I’m in love with an angel” — Jim said.
About 10:00 a.m., Mike called out: “Jim, here’s a letter for you.”
He opened it. “It’s a letter from my friend. He got the job in Austin, Texas. He still wants me to help him build his new home. No way! He says that one of the malls in Austin has an ice-skating rink in the middle. Can you believe that?”
“When are you leaving?”
“I don’t know. He will let me know his plans in a few weeks.”
“I hope you get to spend Christmas here.”
“So do I.” However he knew his plans called for him to be gone by then.
On their way to the café, he asked Mother Barkley if she knew where he could buy a couple of blankets. The temperature had dropped to freezing over the weekend.
“Oh, my, Lord! Mike, we have all of Michael’s blankets in our garage. After lunch go home and get that green trunk from the garage and bring it to Jim.”
He worried he might have caused a problem and began to apologize:
“Please, just let me buy a couple of warm spreads. I have imposed on you two too much already.”
“Nonsense, young man. Those blankets belong in the apartment anyway. That’s final.”
“Thank you,” was all Jim could say.
They entered the café just after noon and many of the usual customers were already there. Mr. Bob, with his ugly dog, was occupying his usual spot. As luck would have it, the table where they had sat before was open. As they took their seats, Mrs. McKinney approached them. “Hi, folks. Looks like you are becoming regulars.”
“Guess we are at that”— Mike replied.
“What can I get for you today?”
“What’s your special?” — Mike said.
“Green beans with new potatoes and meatloaf.”
All three of them ordered the special with sweet tea.
As Mrs. McKinney was walking back to the kitchen, a couple entered with a small child. Mr. Bob’s dog stood up and began to growl. Mrs. McKinney came running across the room.
“Mr. Bob! You control that dog or I will!”
Someone in the back of the restaurant yelled: “Get your gun, Lucille!”
Mr. Bob’s face went beet red as he said: “Down, Butch!”
As the owner walked back to the kitchen, Jim asked Mike: “Mrs. McKinney has a gun here?”
“Oh, yes. I guess you don’t know the story.”
“What story?”
“She is deadly afraid of snakes. Some of her customers used to kid with her about the slimy crawlers. Then one day John Henry brought in a rubber snake and was going to put it on her. Well, she wasn’t going to have any such thing happen to her. She went behind the counter and got a pistol. She cocked it and put the barrel in the middle of John’s chest. She told him to get out or she would kill him.”
“What did John Henry do?”
“He got out! In fact, I don’t think he’s allowed to ever come back.” They all laughed.
“Guess that’s why Mr. Bob didn’t give her any back talk.”
“Mr. Bob was smart enough to know she was mad. One wrong word from him and his dog would be dead, like all over the floor dead” — Mike said.
“I like dogs, but that particular dog dead sounds good to me.”
“Every parent in town would agree with you.”
Just as they received their desserts, in came Craig Foster. He seemed outwardly worried. After a short discussion, Mr. Bob stood up and asked: “Can I have your attention?”
Everyone in the place stopped and focused on Mr. Bob.
“Billy Bob is missing. Has anyone seen him since Saturday?”
No one responded. They looked at each other in complete surprise. Mr. Bob turned to Craig: “Call Paul Williams.”
“The county sheriff is useless” — Craig said without hesitation.
“Call him anyway and the state boys in Atlanta.”
Craig left without another word.
When the trio returned to the post office, Mike went to his car. Unlocking the door, he said: “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Sure enough, thirty minutes later he walked in with a green Army footlocker. He handed it to Jim. “You’ll find what you need inside.” Jim was again embarrassed as the Barkleys were taking care of him as if he were their own son. This caused mixed emotions for Jim. He moved the trunk into his apartment, planning to open it later.
That evening he sat down on his bed and picked up Peggy’s pillow. He pushed his face into it and was surprised that it still smelled like them. God, he missed her. He opened the trunk and found all the blankets wrapped with a protective cloth. They actually smelled fresh. He wondered how women were able to do that. With no small surprise he found six blankets in the trunk. The one on the bottom looked old and worn and he decided he would use it to cover the vent upstairs. With the vent covered he could work at night.
He went to the shed looking for something he could use to hang the blanket and quickly found a hammer. After a detailed search, he found a box of small, box nails. He wasn’t sure the nails would work. The old blanket could just tear loose. Then he saw a stack of one-inch lumber that Michael had used to stake his beans. He decided to roll the blanket around the stakes a couple of times and then he could nail the stakes to the studs ? a good idea at last. He smiled with self-gratification.
He quickly put his plan to action and it worked perfectly. He noticed, too, that it cut down on the traffic noise from the outside. That gave him another idea. He would hang three more blankets and create a small, soundproof room. If not soundproof, it would at least deaden some of the noise.
Now he needed a shooting rest. The easiest way was to nail a board to the rafters and another board on top for the bench. He measured the distance between rafters at the height that would be needed and found the lumber he needed beside the shed. All he needed now was a saw. The only handsaw he could find hadn’t been used since before Michael lived here. Using a chisel and oil he removed enough of the rust to make the two cuts needed.
While in the shed, he nailed together the boards that would serve as the bench. In less than an hour he had a shooting bench worthy of any sniper’s dream. He only needed a seat now. He returned to the shed looking for anything he could use. The bench was at least six feet high, so he needed something to stand on. In the corner he found just what he was looking for: two sawhorses and two six-foot long, two by eight boards. If he used the barstool in his apartment, he would be set.
He was pleased with his night’s work and after little sleep over the weekend he slept hard that night. In fact, he overslept the next morning for the first time since he had started working at the post office.
He didn’t know what to say to Mike about being late. Mike forgave him on the spot. “We have been worried about you. You look really tired lately. Your body is telling you it needs a rest. You may be young, but you need to take time to sleep. Even people in love need sleep.” Mike then let loose with one of his famous laughs.
Jim felt better when he heard Mike’s laughter. He always felt better after talking with the old man. But the time was soon, and he was ready.
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