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he watched the red tail lights of the el dorado disappear into the desert.
you just wait, he thought. you have not seen the last of me.
rick jones was the kind of guy who didn’t forget.
he had zero tolerance for guys who double-crossed their friends.
the dust began settling as the el dorado disappeared.
*
midnight.
i wonder if i could use your phone, rick asked the woman behind the counter of the diner.
that’s quite a request, mister. you know a phone is a very personal thing - the most personal thing a person has, with all their information on it.
i meant a phone for the place, not your cell phone. like, if somebody wanted to call and see what the daily specials were.
we don’t have daily specials. we have a very loyal customer base, they know what we have and they don’t need specials.
let me see if i got that right. nobody can call this place? how about the police, couldn’t they call?
they can call me, the woman explained patiently.
rick started to say something else. but stopped. all right, forget it, he said.
there has got to be a way to call eddie, he thought. this is the information age.
want a refill?, the waitress, whose name was beth, asked rick.
thank you, that’s very kind of you, rick said.
can i get you anything else?
no thank you, rick replied, as he saw the door of the diner open, and felt a cold wind blow in.
*
jerry walked in. with his big red suitcase, that probably had his clown uniform in it, and his magician’s gear.
kiss it all goodbye, rick thought when he saw jerry.
can i help you, beth asked jerry as he took a seat at the u-shaped counter directly opposite rick.
it’s funny how things work out sometimes, isn’t it, jerry said.
it surely is, sir, beth replied, but can i get you anything? a cup of coffee? a slice of pie?
both of those things, especially the pie. blueberry, if you have it.
i just happen to have some, sir. baked fresh just this afternoon.
right. and is there a phone in this place i can use?
beth froze. you want to use a phone?
if it’s not too much trouble, jerry replied absently. if you don’t have one, you don’t have one.
*
i think it’s mighty strange, mister, that no one in the last four years has come in here and asked to borrow a phone, and now tonight two fellers ask in twenty minutes.
jerry didn’t bat an eye or look directly at rick. that’s how things work out sometimes, he shrugged. the reception is bad, that is all.
do you think so? beth replied. let’s find out. she whipped her phone out of the pocket of her waitress’s apron.
sheriff ollie? this is beth, over at the diner, we got a couple of hombres here, who are acting mighty peculiar. you might want to ease your fat carcass up out of your easy chair, even if there is something good on tv, and mosey on over here and check them out.
rick looked out the window at the empty night. that was not really necessary, he mildly admonished beth.
then you got nothing to worry about, do you? beth replied somewhat unctuously.
i expect not, rick said.
i expect you noticed i got good reception when i called the sheriff, didn’t you now?
where is the sheriff? jerry asked. he is probably just across, the street, if i understand such things correctly.
i was trying to call long distance, rick said, specifically to the great city of pittsburgh, pennsylvania.
well, lookee here, beth said, if it ain’t sheriff ollie. howdy, ollie.
sheriff ollie did not look very well pleased to have been summoned . he straightened the tin star on his vest pocket, and asked all right, what exactly is the problem here?
these two fellers came in here one after the other, wanting to use my phone. said they couldn’t get no reception, but i think they are lying.
well, beth, i know you must have some stock in the phone company, if you don’t own it outright, but it seems to me it very well could be that they can’t get any reception, especially if they are calling new york or japan or mars or some damn place, isn’t that right, gentlemen?
truer words were never spoken, rick readily agreed. i am happy to see you so understanding, sheriff.
so i guess that just about takes care of that, jerry added, picking up the cup of coffee that beth had finally served him.
actually, no, the sheriff replied. there is just a little matter of the fact that we have law in this town, and i recognize from the posters on the wall of my jail that you are two members of the jones brothers gang, wanted for various skullduggeries not only here in the heartland of the good old u s a, but in points east and west and all the ships at sea, because you are too dumb to realize that crime no longer pays in this connected and digitized world.
watch out, sheriff, he’s got a gun!
that’s when all hell broke loose, and chaos and mayhem kicked in.
*
this is quite a mess we are in again, brother, jerry exclaimed, as they started running down the road.
forget that stuff! leave it! rick shouted back over his shoulder at jerry, who was struggling to keep up with him, as he was still carrying the heavy red suitcase with the clown suit and the magician’s paraphernalia.
but paw told us to always keep it! jerry shouted back, as helicopters appeared overhead. it’s our heritage! the joneses have always been clowns!
get along, little dogie, get along… bullets from the helicopters began kicking up dust in the road…
it’s a sad state of affairs, isn’t it?
it was ever thus… or was it?
because what kind of goddamned country is it where a man can’t rob a bank or smoke a cigar or whistle at a pretty girl without getting hunted down like a poisoned possum after the mardi gras…
a long string of zeros flashed green across the screen…
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