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Bird in the Hand
Book Seven of the New Spearfish Lake series
Wes Boyd
©2008, ©2014




Chapter 17

Back at his house, Frenchy had settled down a little, if for no more reason than he couldn’t hold that level of fury forever. Any amusement Matt might have felt about what had happened to Frenchy had long since been overshadowed by the ongoing rant about what Frenchy planned to do to whoever it was had messed with his car. In fact he was more than a bit tired of it.

“Face it,” Matt said once Frenchy had cooled off a little, “there ain’t no way you’re going to get four new tires today. What you need to do is to have a couple cold beers and think about it.”

“Can’t even fucking do that,” Frenchy replied with a sneer. “I was going to make a beer run up to . . . ” he said and stopped, remembering that he didn’t want to let anyone know about Lame Badger. He figured that as long as he was supplying his friends with beer, they’d be a little more loyal to him. If they started going around him for their beer, sooner or later someone was going to figure out that they didn’t need him at their beer busts, and he’d be out of having people to hold down the people he wanted to beat up. That would suck. “I was going to make a beer run this morning,” he restated himself”, “but I can’t do it now, unless you give me your car.”

“I could ride with you up wherever you’re going,” Matt offered, hoping he could finally find out where Frenchy’s source was.

“Can’t do that,” Frenchy shook his head. “My guy, well, he don’t want just everyone knowing about what he’s got going or else the cops would be on his ass.” That was an outright lie and Frenchy knew it; Lame Badger did just about everything but put billboards up on the highway. It was real surprising that no one else from Spearfish Lake had seemed to figure out his connection, even though it was a good eighty mile drive from town. “I could take your car though, I suppose.”

Matt wasn’t real sure how bad he wanted Frenchy driving his car in the mood he was in, but there was no way that he could say it, but now he was stuck with it. To try and change the subject a little, he asked, “You figured out what you’re going to do about your tires?”

“Yeah, I’m going to kick some ass just as soon as I can find out whose ass to kick. It about has to be that goddamn Frankovich.”

“I don’t mean about kicking some ass,” Matt said. “I mean about getting your car fixed. There ain’t no way you can use those tires again. You can’t even put a tube in them since the holes are so goddamn big.”

“Fuck if I know,” Frenchy shook his head. “There ain’t no way I got any thousand bucks for any set of tires. Maybe we could go steal some somewhere. I think there’s a guy over on Third Street that has a set pretty close to what I got.”

“Uh, I’m not sure that’s the smartest idea you ever had, Frenchy,” Matt pointed out. “By now I’ll bet that half the town knows about your tires being fucked up. Wouldn’t it look a little strange if someone else had four tires stolen that just happen to fit your wheels and all of a sudden you were riding around on new skins?”

“Yeah, you might have a point at that,” Frenchy said, in for what passed, for him, as a thoughtful tone. “But what makes you think the whole town knows about it?”

“Frenchy, think about it,” Matt smiled. “This is usually a pretty quiet street, right? Then why do we have so many people driving by, slowing up so they can check out your wheels?”

“Shit,” Frenchy replied, realizing that Matt was right. “I hadn’t really noticed, but there are a lot of assholes driving by, aren’t there?” Anger rose in his voice again. “They’re probably all laughing their asses off at me! Fuck, I’ll bet one of them is whoever the fuck it is that fucked me over in the first place. Have you seen that goddamn Frankovich drive by? ”

“No, I haven’t,” Matt told him, “but I haven’t been paying much attention, either.”

“Well, fuck ’em,” Frenchy sneered. “I mean, fuck ’em all! That really pisses me off, you know that?”

“Well, shit, it would piss me off, too,” Matt nodded. “OK, here’s another idea,” he said, trying to keep Frenchy from heading off into another rage. “What do you say we go get some blocks someplace? Then, we come back here and get the rest of the tires off your car.”

“What the fuck good would that do?”

“We can’t do much more than that today,” Matt continued, trying to make some sense, which could be difficult with Frenchy at the best of times. “But in the morning, we get Larry and his pickup and run down to that junkyard outside of Meeker. They have a huge shit pot full of old tires lying around. Some of them probably aren’t too bad, and I think we can get them mounted on your rims cheap.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to have to run around on no cheap-shit used tires,” Frenchy snarled.

“It would get you moving again,” Matt pointed out. “And it might not be too expensive. That way, you could make your beer run tomorrow or Tuesday or something. Then, over the next month or two you could pick up a tire here and a tire there, and pretty soon you’re back where you started.”

Frenchy sat and thought it over for a minute. “I still don’t want to have to drive around on crap tires any longer than I have to,” he nodded finally. “But yeah, it might work, and people might not even notice. You’re a bud, Matt, a real bud. That’s a pretty decent idea, and fuck knows I can’t think of anything better. You got any idea where we can get something to block it up with?”

*   *   *

“So how was the birding?” Barb Erikson asked her son as he and Vixen walked in.

“Not bad,” Jack replied. “I didn’t see anything new but we picked up a couple oddities. Vixen did a whole bunch of additions to her life list, though. She even beat me on a couple identifications.”

“Well, Vixen,” Barb said, eyeing the skimpiness and tightness of the camouflage top closely. “It sounds like you’re getting into it a little.”

“Yeah, there’s a lot more to it than I thought,” Vixen admitted, “and it’s a lot more fun than I thought it would be. Jack really knows a lot about birds.”

“You pick it up as you go along,” Jack smiled. “Anyway, we’re going over to her house for dinner.”

“Yes, and I appreciate your calling me and telling me about it. I suppose that was Vixen’s idea.”

“No, actually, Mrs. Erikson,” Vixen smiled. “It was his idea, but it came right after I called my mother and told her he was coming.”

“The truth comes out,” Barb grinned. “I figured it had to be something like that.”

“Anyway, Mom,” Jack continued, trying to take a little of the spotlight off himself, “I wanted to drop off Stas and change clothes a little. Not dress up or anything, but it’s getting warm out there.”

“Well, try to find something that’s at least halfway decent,” she replied. “You don’t want to make a bad impression. Oh, and Summer Trevetheck has been calling for you. She’s called three times now. She says she wants to thank you again for helping her out yesterday, but I think she’s got something else on her mind. That was a good deed you two did for her yesterday.”

Jack shrugged. “Well, if she’s called that often maybe I’d better call her back,” he said. “It might be important. I can’t think what it would be, though.”

“Her phone number’s on the white board,” Barb replied. “Vixen, can I get you something to drink while Jack’s busy?”

“I could stand something,” she replied. “Jack bought me an iced tea when we got back into town, but it’s hot enough that I’m thirsty again.”

Jack decided that he was warm enough that he wanted to change clothes first. He headed to his room, peeled off the jeans he’d been wearing, and pulled on a pair of khaki Bermuda shorts. He knew that a lot of guys liked to wear clamdiggers or cargo pants in the summer, but he couldn’t see any advantage to them for staying cooler than just wearing jeans. He found a green polo shirt hanging in his closet, and figured that would do just fine. It took him a couple minutes to get the change made, and he wondered all the while what Summer could want with him.

When he got back downstairs Vixen and his mother were in the living room, where they had quite a conversation going. Once again, Jack was dead sure that his mother was figuring out what dress she wanted to wear to the wedding. While Jack could imagine such a thing coming to pass off in the distant future, it wasn’t something he really wanted to consider just then.

Being courteous and deciding to not get involved in something where he had no chance of winning, or even breaking even, Jack went to the phone in the kitchen that had Summer’s number written on the white board next to it. Glancing at it, he realized that it was her cell phone, and called her.

“Hi, Summer,” he said after she answered. “Mom said you’d been trying to get hold of me. Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yes, Jack,” she replied. “I’d really like to talk to you sometime pretty soon. I mean, alone. I know you’re going with Vixen a little and I don’t want to get between you, but I really need to talk to you one on one.”

“What about, Summer?”

He heard her take a deep sigh before saying, “Can I just tell you it’s personal and I don’t want to talk about it on the phone?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Jack said. “It might be a little hard since Vixen and I are together so much of the time.”

“That’s what I hear,” she replied. “The word seems to be out that the two of you are a hot item.”

“I don’t think that us going out birding together makes us all that hot an item,” Jack replied, just a little perplexed at her statement.

“Well, maybe not,” Summer replied, “but you have to admit that your tongues exploring each other’s tonsils in the Qwik Stop parking lot might make it look that way.”

Shit, Jack thought. That was less than an hour ago! Boy, the rumor mill around this town moves fast! “Let’s just say that I’m still getting used to the idea of having a girlfriend. It’s a new experience for me, you know. It takes a little getting used to.”

“So I’m told,” she sighed. “We’ll have to work it out so we can talk and not get Vixen jealous or something. Will you have that talk with me? ”

“Summer, I . . . give me a minute,” he said, thinking furiously. Well, there was an idea. “Summer,” he picked up, “Is this going to take a long time?”

“Probably not,” she said. “There’s no telling, though.”

“OK, look,” he said. “Vixen and I were just over to Alan Jahnke’s. You heard about what happened to him Friday night, didn’t you? ”

“Quite a bit,” she replied. “At least, from what I picked up from Ashley Keilhorn, and a little bit from others.”

“Alan’s a little bummed out,” Jack said. “He really feels alone. He sort of said that misfits like us who don’t run with the football and cheerleader crowd need to learn to stick together. I think he’s got a point. He needs a friend, Summer, maybe more than one. Vixen and I agreed to go over to his place this evening and play computer games or something with him.”

“So what does that have to do with anything?”

“How about if we pick you up when we’re heading over there? At some point, Vixen and Alan will wind up going nose to nose over a chessboard or a computer game and won’t be paying a lot of attention to us. We could head out to the kitchen or something and get a drink, and they might not even notice we’re gone. Besides, Summer, you’re really one of us misfits, we do need to learn to stick together, and right now Alan really needs some friends.”

Summer was silent for a moment. “Well,” she finally replied. “When you put it that way, it sounds like it might work. We’d have to be careful that no one overhears us, though.”

“So maybe we head out in the back yard for a breath of fresh air or something. If it doesn’t take too long they may not know we’re gone, and it’d make the perfect excuse.”

“I guess it’ll have to do,” Summer sighed. “The sooner I can talk to you, the better. What time do you want me to be ready?”

“I don’t know,” Jack said. “Vixen and I are going to head out to her house for dinner, we’ll probably have to sit around and talk for a while, and we may go out birding again. I really hadn’t planned on anything till evening. Why don’t I have Vixen give you a call to give you a little warning?”

“Vixen?”

“Yeah, that way you two can color coordinate your clothes or whatever it is that you girls do. She bought off on the deal with Alan earlier, so she’ll just think that I decided to add you to the party to even out the boys and girls or something.”

*   *   *

“So,” Vixen asked after they’d gotten in the Jeep and headed to her house, “what did Summer want to talk to you about?”

“She wants to talk with me alone,” Jack said, deciding that honesty was the best policy. “She wouldn’t say what it was about, and I can’t figure out what it would be. My guess is that she wants to figure out some way to get back at Rusty Frankovich personally, but I have no idea if that’s it or what.”

“Well, you know Summer,” Vixen nodded. “She seems to have her own way to do things sometimes.”

“Yeah, maybe it’s something that’s a big deal to her, but nothing to me. Anyway, while I was on the phone with her, I thought it might be a neat idea to bring her along when we go to Alan’s tonight.”

“Oh, you schemer,” she smiled. “I’m going to have to watch out for you. What are you doing, setting her up with Alan or something?”

“Not really,” he told her. “I mean, it would be nice. Alan really is a good guy, and she really is a nice girl. If they happen to get together I don’t think either one of them would mind. All I’m doing is setting up a situation where they can be a little friendly, and then I’m keeping my hands off.”

“You’re a quick worker,” she laughed. “Not half an hour ago I suggested that Alan needs a girlfriend, and the next thing you know you’re doing a little bootleg matchmaking. That’s actually a pretty good idea, Jack. They might hit it off better than you think, and that’d give Alan something to do besides sit in his chair, stare at his computer screen, and wonder when Frenchy is going to come for him again.”

“It’s not matchmaking,” Jack protested. “I’m just bringing a couple of people together in a situation that isn’t school and giving them a chance to be friends. If there’s any fires lit, they’ll have to light them. I’m busy enough trying to keep up with you. By the way, according to the rumor mill, we are now officially an item.”

“What? Did the word of our date last night get out already?”

“Summer didn’t mention it,” he replied. “But she knows about our kissing out in the parking lot of the Qwik Stop this morning. And the way she said it, it sounded like she heard it from someone else.”

“Oh, boy,” she said, shaking her head. “I hope my mother hasn’t heard about it yet.”

“No bet, the way the rumor mill works,” he shook his head. “Guess we’d better watch that stuff in the future.”

“No way in hell,” she smiled. “For all too long in this town I’ve been the ugly girl with the horrible skin who couldn’t get a date or a boyfriend if she tried to buy one. Now I get to show all the rumormongers and put-down artists that they were as wrong as they could be. I do have a boyfriend, who happens to be a hell of a nice guy, and if he and I want to show it off a little, well, we will.”

“Aren’t you concerned that it’ll give you a reputation for being, well, a little loose?”

“Not really,” she shrugged. “I’ll be a hell of a long time getting a reputation for being as loose as Mary Lou Kempa. If someone wants to think that you and I are going farther than we are, I don’t really mind. As far as I’m concerned it’s a better reputation than not being able to get a date.”

*   *   *

“I’m surprised,” Marilyn Hvalchek said as Vixen and Jack came through the back door into the kitchen. “I expected the two of you would get so wrapped up in your bird watching that you’d wind up sliding in here at the last possible instant.”

“No, Mrs. Hvalchek,” Jack smiled. “That wouldn’t be polite.”

“So did you see any birds?”

“Yeah, Mom,” Vixen smiled. “Quite a few, in fact. We were out in the marsh south of the lake, and boy, are there a lot of birds out there. I added twenty-nine to my life list, I think. I’ve got to straighten out my field notes.”

“Jack, you’ll have to tell me,” Mrs. Hvalchek said, “Is that good or bad?”

“Pretty good,” he replied. “She won’t be able to continue at that rate because we’ll run out of birds that spend the summer here pretty soon. But the first hint of the fall migration is getting under way, so she should be able to add several more to it. “

Marilyn smiled at the two of them. Bird watching was approaching the last thing she’d ever expected Vixen to take an interest in. Of course, there was the question in her mind of how much Vixen was interested in birds and how much she was interested in Jack. Either way, this had really come out of nowhere! She didn’t know Jack well, but he came from a decent family and seemed like a pretty good kid. Heaven knew that there were worse boys Vixen could have taken up with. Lots worse, in fact.

“Jack, you seem pretty interested in your birds. Is this just a passing thing, or something you’re really serious about?” she asked. She wanted to ask the same question, but about Vixen, rather than birds, but it didn’t seem like the right thing to do at this point.

“Well, I’ve been doing it pretty seriously for about five years, now,” Jack told her. “At this point, I think I’d like to make a career out of it.”

“I can’t believe there would be much of a career in watching birds,” she observed.

“There are some things,” Jack said. “Whether I can break into any of them involves things like being in the right place at the right time. I’m planning on getting a degree in wildlife biology, so that can take me in several different directions.”

“You’re going to college, then? Well, that’s good,” she smiled. At least he wasn’t looking for a career at the plywood plant; he might make something of himself. “Where are you planning on going?”

“I don’t know yet,” he said. “That’s something I have to work out in the next few months. I’m leaning toward a smaller college, though. I’m a small-town boy; I don’t know how I’d get along on a big campus in a big city. But I’ll work it out.”

“So, Vixen,” her mother said, “I’m glad you were enjoying yourself. I can’t believe that you were out in the swamp with all those bugs until just now.”

“We’ve been back a while,” Vixen replied. “We stopped off at Alan Jahnke’s for a few minutes to say hi, and then went to Jack’s house so he could change clothes. Which makes me think, I think I’ll get out of these jeans and into something cooler. Jack, I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t let Mom bite your head off.” She turned and headed toward the stairs.

“No matter what Vixen said, I’m not that bad,” Mrs. Hvalchek smiled to Jack. “I’ll admit that we’ve had a few issues, but that’s a part of growing up.”

“Yeah, I’ve had a few with my folks,” he nodded. “For the most part we get along pretty well. I guess they think they’d rather have me out birding rather than some of the other things I could be doing.”

“I must admit that I feel the same way about Vixen,” she smiled, “although I’m surprised that she got interested in bird watching. She seems to have spent most of her summer wrapped up in one novel or another, so this is a little out of the ordinary for her.” This might be the time to ask, she thought. At least Vixen wouldn’t be here to interfere. “Do you think that her interest is more in birds or in you?”

“Good question, Mrs. Hvalchek,” Jack grinned. “I’ve asked myself the same thing. There’s no doubt that she’s getting interested in birds because I’m interested in them, but I can’t tell you where the line is drawn. Either way is fine with me. I’d almost rather have a birding buddy than a girlfriend, but having both in the same package works just fine for me. I know I wouldn’t be enjoying being with Vixen anywhere near as much without her taking the interest in birds that she has.”

“That’s interesting,” Mrs. Hvalchek nodded. “She’s seemed a lot brighter and more interested in the last couple of days, not that I’ve seen a lot of her. It’s been good to see her taking an interest in something without having her nose in a book.”

“She sure seems to be picking it up quickly,” Jack replied, realizing that he was on trial with Vixen’s mother. Vixen had said a lot of things about how she hadn’t been getting along well with her mother, but she was being perfectly personable to him. “She’s been fun to be with. It’s nice to see someone picking up a complicated subject that quickly.” In an effort to change the subject and make a better impression, he asked, “Is there anything I can do to help you with dinner?”

“No, I have things pretty well under control for the moment,” Mrs. Hvalchek replied, “but it’s nice of you to ask. Do you do much cooking?”

“Not a lot,” he replied. “Sometimes when my mother works late I’ll throw something together, but she usually has it set up ahead of time. She works some funny hours sometimes.”

Over the next few minutes, Marilyn quizzed Jack about a lot of things under the guise of trying to get a conversation going. She asked him about how he got started in birding, and he explained about how Mr. Buckland had raised his interest and taught him the basics before he died. They talked about how he was doing in school, which was good; he was likely to make the top ten, but there was little chance he’d be in competition with Alan Jahnke for valedictorian. She asked what he liked on TV, which was not much except for a few science shows that he watched from time to time, mostly on cable.

Finally Vixen came back into the room, wearing some tight, short white shorts. “Since you’re still here, I take it Mom hasn’t thrown you out, yet,” she smiled as she came over to him and took his hand.

“We’ve been having a perfectly decent discussion,” Jack said. “I’ve actually been waiting for her to bring out your baby pictures. She’s been telling me something about one with you nude on a bearskin rug.”

“Oh, you,” Vixen laughed. “You’re a tease, and you know it. As far as I know, we never had a bearskin rug.”

“I’d be perfectly happy to dig out her baby pictures,” Marilyn teased back. “Except I don’t think I’d like how loud Vixen would scream if I tried it.”

“Baby pictures,” Vixen snorted. “You really want to run my boyfriend off, don’t you Mom?”



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