The Damn Fool Page 2

We restore the cabin to its original splendor and fix up the lake. You sit up

  there overlooking these mountains and watch fish jumping in the lake as you work

  on your 'puter. Ain't that a pretty picture?"

  "All you need down here," Toni said, "is a bush hog to clear out around the lake

  bank and a couple of chain saws and two good men to thin out the woods. I

  checked the dam this morning. It's in good shape. Of course, you'll want to

  rebuild the boathouse and get two or three rowboats. I'll bet it wouldn't cost

  more than � uh � what do you think, Handsome?"

  "Ten grand, more or less."

  Lance wanted to tell Toni he would do anything she asked if she would be part of

  the package. Instead, he said, "Is there any way to clear up the muddy water?"

  "Yeah," Buddy replied, "but I wouldn't recommend it. It's the huge carp swimming

  on the bottom that keeps the water stirred up, not the catfish. You'd have to

  drain the lake to kill 'em all, and you'd kill the cats, crappie and bass in the

  process. Then you'd have to refill and restock the lake."

  "There might be another way," Toni suggested. "Have a fishing contest. Pay five

  bucks for each carp over ten pounds and give a big prize, maybe a thousand, for

  the largest carp caught."

  Buddy rubbed the stubble on his chin. "Might work. I don't reckon you'd get rid

  of all the carp that way, but enough might be caught to clear up the water a

  mite."

  Lance wagged his head and grinned. "You two sure don't mind spending my money.

  Do you think the cabin can be restored?"

  Buddy looked at Toni. "I think you just hooked the biggest fish of the day."

  Turning back to Lance, he continued, "Why don't we go take a look?"

  Buddy headed back up the trail, but Lance purposefully waited for Toni to put on

  her socks and shoes. He was disappointed when she rolled down the legs of her

  jeans, but good-naturedly picked up the stringer of fish and followed her up the

  steep incline. By the time they reached the clearing, Lance was in love with

  Toni � at least the back of her head, the back of her neck, her back and tiny

  waist, her buttocks, the backs of her thighs and calves and the heels of her

  feet.

  Buddy grabbed a flashlight from his truck and met them beside the cabin.

  "Foundation's made of mountain rock. It looks solid, but I want to check it

  carefully."

  "Why the flashlight?" Lance puffed as he paused to rest.

  "Let me put those fish in my trunk," Toni said as she took the stringer from

  Lance. "That's tonight's supper."

  Buddy tested the flashlight to make sure the batteries were good. "I want to go

  in the crawlspace and see if the joists are solid."

  Lance nodded and watched Buddy disappear behind the cabin. He summoned his

  strength and made it to the front porch as Toni joined him. "Miss Toni," he said

  as he began to unbutton his shirt and pull it from his slacks, "you're going to

  have to forgive me. I'm burning up."

  She watched as he removed the shirt, revealing rippling chest muscles produced

  by years of daily weight training. She giggled. "I feel like a horny teenage boy

  at a girly show," she said as she placed the palm of her hand on his moist skin.

  "Lance, you have a magnificent chest!"

  The touch of her hand sent a tingling sensation coursing through his entire

  body. He blushed as a voice sounded from the far end of the porch. "Take your

  shirt off too, Toni, and let's see who has the best chest. I'll be the judge."

  "In your dreams, Buddy Mabe."

  "Look, guys," Buddy shouted, "the foundation is in great shape except for one

  little area in the back. Now I'm going to introduce myself to the snakes,

  spiders and other creepy things under the house. If I'm not back in an hour,

  send out a search party."

  "You ever been inside?" Lance asked.

  She shook her head. "I've lived on the farm all my life, but I've only peeked

  through the windows."

  "You were a tenant for my dad?"

  "Mom and dad were and Buddy's parents were also. I helped, of course. I've

  primed many an acre of tobacco," she laughed.

  "Well, your time has come." Lance pulled a key ring from his pocket, selected

  one, and inserted it in the lock. He could not turn it.

  Toni tried and failed. "Rusted shut," she observed.

  He pressed his hands against the door. "Seems rotten," he said. He backed up a

  step and slammed his foot against the door. It splintered into dozens of pieces.

  "Where there's a will, there's a way."

  They stepped through the opening and paused, giving their eyes a chance to

  adjust to the dim lighting conditions.

  They were in the main ballroom. She grasped his hand unconsciously and gasped,

  "Lance, look at that."

  He followed the focus of her eyes and admired the fireplace, centered on the

  left side of the room.

  "Mountain rock," she explained. "Can't you just see a roaring fire on a winter's

  evening?"

  He nodded and pointed towards the raised flooring in front of the wall opposite

  the door. "That must be the bandstand." He looked at her longingly and held out

  his hands. "While the fire burned and the musicians played, the gentlemen,

  attired in their finery, waltzed with their ladies dressed in billowing skirts

  and plunging necklines."

  She placed her hands in his and they danced around the room as he hummedThe Blue

  Danube Waltz . She watched his pecs quiver as he enjoyed the rhythmical swaying

  of her breasts. He led her into a deep dip and, as she smiled up at him, she

  squealed, "Look!"

  He pulled her erect and they stared at the magnificent, dusty chandelier hanging

  from the ceiling, its teardrops of cut glass still able to catch glimpses of

  sunlight and reflect them around the room.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. He pulled her close. Their lips touched.

  She pulled away.

  "I � I'm sorry, Lance. I got carried away."

  "It was a wonderful moment," he said. "Thank you for sharing it with me."

  Lance knew that if he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget the taste and

  feel of her lips on his. "Hey, let's see what the rest of the cabin has to

  offer."

  They pushed through the door opposite the fireplace and looked in awe at the

  oblong room that formed a right angle with the ballroom. A smaller fireplace

  graced the front exterior wall.

  "The dining room," she whispered reverently.

  He whistled. "Man, they could seat fifty, maybe a hundred people in here. I

  wonder what happened to all the furniture?"

  "Your dad sold it," she said.

  "Why?"

  "Antiques. I imagine he hated to see everything deteriorate and decided to make

  a little on the furnishings."

  "It'll cost a fortune to furnish the place," he said.

  "Does that mean what I hope it means?"

  "I'm tempted." He looked at the long interior wall. "One of those doors probably

  leads to the kitchen, but what's the other door for?"

  She beat him to the first door and pulled it open. "It's a hallway, Lance,

  running the length of the house."

  He peered over her head, lightly resting his hands on her should
ers. "Dark in

  there. We could use Buddy's flashlight. Let's try the other door."

  They entered the next room. "Why in the world did they need such a huge

  kitchen?" he asked.

  "To prepare food for a hundred people, silly," she responded. "I wish they

  hadn't ripped out the appliances like that. I don't believe that was your

  daddy's doing."

  "Toni, I know there is a second story, but I haven't seen any stairs."

  "Must be around here somewhere. That door probably also opens to the hallway.

  Let's see what else we can find."

  They groped their way down the hall with Lance in the lead and Toni trailing,

  holding on to his hips.

  "Hold it," Lance said. "I think I found a door." He searched for a doorknob.

  "Ugh. Place stinks."

  "It's the bathroom," she said.

  "Looks like it was added as an afterthought."

  She laughed. "When the cabin was originally built, they drew water from a well

  and used an outhouse."

  "I suppose so, but why does it stink so bad?"

  "My guess is the septic tank failed."

  Lance pretended he knew what a septic tank was and inched further down the

  hallway. "Oh, boy. You have to see this," he called to Toni.

  "Lance, it's � it's � "

  "Majestic," he offered.

  "Look at the detail work on the banisters."

  The steps rose to a landing, turned and proceeded to the second floor. A

  persimmon tree stretched two of its branches through the wide window on the

  landing.

  Lance started to mount the steps, but Toni restrained him. "Let's see the rest

  of the first floor," she suggested.

  He followed her through the next door and gasped. A rock fireplace � not as

  large as the one in the ballroom, but just as beautiful � adorned the end wall.

  The exterior wall contained an ornate door and a wide bay window.

  "This is it!" Toni exclaimed as she rushed to the window. "Just as Buddy said.

  If you put your computer here, you can look out over the lake below. Lance, it's

  gorgeous."

  He moved to the window as she rushed to the exterior door. "Lance," she shouted

  from outside, "look at this."

  He joined her on the deck that ran the full length of the house. "If we cut a

  door from the kitchen, this will be a perfect place to enjoy a meal on a summer

  evening," he mused.

  She grabbed his hand and pulled him back inside and to the staircase.

  "Found any ghosts?" Buddy bellowed as he entered the hallway from the kitchen.

  "Not yet," Lance answered, watching Buddy approach. "What have you found?"

  "Let me finish looking around and then I'll give you a full report."

  Lance nodded and followed Toni up the steps. The second floor was a

  disappointment. There were six uniform bedrooms, a large walk-in storage closet

  and a single bathroom that looked as if it, too, was originally a large closet.

  They passed Buddy as they descended the stairs. "Why would they plaster the

  walls on the second floor?" Lance asked.

  Buddy shrugged his shoulders.

  "It looks terrible," Toni added. "They're all cracked and broken. There's more

  plaster on the floor than on the walls."

  "I'm so thirsty I could drink the muddy water in the lake," Lance joked as they

  emerged on the front porch.

  "No need for that," Toni laughed. "I have a Mason jar of ice water in my car."

  Lance politely waited for Toni to drink her fill before putting the jar to his

  own lips. As he gulped down the refreshing liquid, he saw Buddy approaching. He

  was not smiling.

  Buddy wiped his lips with the back of his hand after emptying the jar. "She's in

  worse shape than I thought," he said as he led the way to the shade of a huge

  black walnut tree. "The foundation needs shoring up in the back, the whole front

  porch needs replacing, the logs are okay but the chinking must be replaced. All

  the windows need replacing, not just the broken panes. The wiring and plumbing

  is ancient. It ain't safe, so that'll have to be replaced." He shielded his eyes

  from the sun and looked at the top of the cabin. "The tin roof is about to rust

  through. I reckon you'll want to replace that with shingles. The attic has no

  insulation and, of course, there ain't no central heat or air-conditioning."

  "Lance," Toni said. "Don't put on shingles. There's nothing like the sound of

  falling rain on a tin roof."

  "The cost of a new metal roof is about the same," Buddy said, "and there's more.

  The septic tank has caved in and I don't trust the water in the well. You know

  how rutted the road is. It needs scraping and a load of gravel on it. I figure

  its gonna cost you two hundred grand, give or take, to fix her up including the

  road and lake."

  Lance leveled his eyes at Buddy. "You didn't make a single note. How can you up

  come up with a figure? And besides, how do you know what it will cost to

  renovate the place?"

  "I made notes, Vance � lots of them on my 'puter." He tapped his forehead with

  his index finger.

  "Buddy used to be a contractor, before � "

  "Before I became the town drunk," Buddy interrupted as he studied his feet.

  "You still have a license?"

  Buddy nodded.

  "Can you stay sober long enough to get the job done?"

  "I can get the job done, but I don't promise nothing about staying sober."

  "How do you suggest we proceed?"

  "You mean it?" Toni asked.

  Lance nodded. She threw her arms around him. "I want to help restore the cabin.

  It'll be fun."

  Lance closed his arms around Toni's slender waist. She's trembling with

  excitement, he thought. God, she feels so good in my arms.

  "First," Buddy said, "you write me a check for fifty thousand."

  "What?"

  "Let me finish. I ain't got no money and suppliers ain't gonna to give credit to

  a drunk. I need the money to get started. A fellow I know has a RV. I bet it

  doesn't have a thousand miles on it. His wife doesn't like tooling around in

  that huge thing. I'll rent it for you to live in 'til we finish the cabin. You

  go on back to Charlotte and take care of business. Give me a week. I'll have a

  well dug, a new septic tank installed, power run from the road and the RV set up

  over yonder," he said, pointing to the far side of the cabin.

  "What do you think, Toni?"

  "I've known Handsome all my life. I've never known him to tell a lie or steal a

  penny. If he says he can do it, he can and will."

  Lance walked to his car and pulled his briefcase from the back seat. As he wrote

  the check he said, "I'll be back one week from today. There's just one

  condition."

  "What's that?" Buddy asked.

  "You put Toni on the payroll and don't do anything without her prior approval."

  Buddy roared with laughter. "Ugly," he asked, "What did you do to this guy while

  I was playing with spiders?"

  Chapter Two

 

  An ominous cloud was building in the west when Lance eased his Taurus up to the

  gas pumps in front of Flint's Grocery. He watched lightning dance in the

  distance as he filled his fuel tank. A good, hard, blowing rain might rinse some

  of the filth from Tracy
's windows, he thought. The light wind was a refreshing

  relief from the early afternoon heat. He checked the hookup between his car and

  the U-Haul trailer attached. For no particular reason, he didn't trust the

  temporary device.

  "Good afternoon, Tracy," he greeted as he entered the store and nodded towards

  the two men sitting beside the potbellied stove. "I was almost empty this time,"

  he joked.

  Tracy acknowledged his presence simply by looking up from the crossword puzzle

  she was working.

  Man, I wish she'd do something with her hair, he thought as he filled a shopping

  cart with staples, a case of diet Pepsi-Colas and a case of Budweiser. She sure

  does fill out that red tee shirt nicely, though.

  "Word is you found the farm and plan to live there," she said as she began to

  ring up his purchases.

  Lance grinned and replied, "It was love at first sight."

  "I already warned you once. You won't make a living off the place. Nobody makes

  a living off of farming anymore."

  "Maybe � maybe not. It doesn't really matter."

  "Rich, are you?"

  He laughed. "Not hardly, but I do have a computer programming business that pays

  the bills nicely."

  "They say you hired Buddy Mabe and his hoodlum friends to fix the place up.

  They'll do a half-ass job and rob you blind."

  "Ain't necessarily so," one of the stove sitters chimed in. "Buddy was a right

  fair hand back before � you know."

  "Grandpa," she spat back, "you're entitled to your opinion, but a fool and his

  money are soon parted."

  Lance cocked his head to one side. "Are you calling me a fool?"

  "If the shoe don't fit, don't wear it."

  "That ain't the way the sayin' goes," Grandpa chuckled.

  "You mind your own beeswax, Grandpa," Tracy shot back affectionately. She

  leveled her hazel eyes at Lance. "I've forgotten your name, fella, but take my

  advice. You don't fit in around here. Get out before you lose your shirt."

  "My name is Lance Sayer," he said as he handed her his credit card, "but there

  is no cause for you to remember it. I don't go where I'm not wanted, so I won't

  be back."

  Both of the stove sitters laughed. "Then I reckon you'll be drivin' to Walnut

  Cove or Winston fer your groceries. Tracy has the only grocery in these here

  parts," Grandpa advised.

  Lance signed the receipt, but held it for a moment. He lowered his voice. "I

  have some advice for you, Tracy Flint. Wash your greasy auburn hair, have it cut

  and comb it once in a while."

  "Hey, Grandpa," she shouted as she yanked the receipt from Lance's hand, "he

  wants me to fix myself up. You think he wants to come a-courtin'?"

  "He ain't good enough fer you, Tracy. If you're gonna court anybody, it ought to

  be me and I like you jest fine the way you are."

  Lance dumped the beverage cases and the two grocery bags into the cart and

  hurried to his car. He pushed and shoved his purchases into the passenger seat,

  knowing there was no room in the back seat, trunk and the large U-Haul trailer.

  He started to push the cart back to the store, but changed his mind and left it

  beside the pumps for Miss Flint to retrieve. A sudden gust of cool wind caused

  him to glance skyward and the boiling black clouds and a crash of thunder warned

  that the storm was fast approaching.

  He drove carefully to Danbury, remembering the treacherous S curve, and eased

  his car and the trailer he was towing into the post office parking lot as the

  first large drops of rain began splattering against the windshield. The red

  suspendered owner of the hardware store was leaving as Lance entered the post

  office.

  "Afternoon," Lance greeted.

  The man grunted, all but ignoring Lance.

  "I need to rent a post office box," he said to the uniformed clerk.

  "Twelve dollars," the middle-aged man responded, pushing forward a form and

  ballpoint pen.

  Lance quickly filled out the simple form and placed his credit card on the

  counter. The clerk waited until Lance signed the receipt and then slid a key in

  his direction. "Box 494," he said.

  "Thanks. I could use some change of address cards too."

  "How many," the clerk asked with a hint of irritation in his voice.

  "Twenty should do it."

  While the clerk meticulously counted out the blue cards, Lance pulled from his

  pocket a previously filled in change of address form to notify the Charlotte