Date: Sun, 12 Jun 2016 18:23:03 -0500
From: Eric Trager <trager2275@gmail.com>
Subject: It IS What It Is: Chapter 13

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Trager.

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Andy did as he was told. "911 what is your emergency?"

Andy handed Sean the phone. "Yes, I'm being followed in my car. There is a
strange car following us. It's turned with us at every corner and we've
been driving for about three miles. We were on our way to the Mall, but got
suspicious of this car, so we drove a crazy route... My friend in the car
with me is the boy they tried to kill in the park in Kenosha!"

"Excuse me, sir?"

"I'm telling you that we're being followed by a suspicious car! My friend
was almost killed a couple weeks ago and he's in the car with me! We think
they're after him!  Look, I'm driving a blue 2013 Chevy Equinox, Wisconsin
plates 1632-JXB. My car has a LoJak in it, and I am switching it on now! A
silver compact car is following us, I can't tell what make because I'm
driving, but it looks Japanese. It might be a Toyota, or a Honda, but I'm
not a hundred percent sure. Please send an officer."

"What is your present location, sir?"

"One moment... And, gimme a street corner!"

Andy called out the street sign.

"We're at Hawthorne Park Drive and Rugby Road! We are changing our route
and heading straight to the Mall now!" Sean then instructed Andy to direct
him on the straightest route to the Mall.

"Alright, Sir, I'm putting a squad car on your location right now. They can
home in on your LoJak. Keep driving normally! If you have any further
issues, please call back!"

"Shit, And, this is crazy. Who the fuck would be following us around this
town? We just moved here!"

"I dunno, man, but I'm not scared! You got the video surveillance, and the
cops are homing in on your LoJak. Just keep driving and we should be OK. If
the cops don't catch up to us by the time we get to the Mall, just keep
driving. We'll be OK."

"I think so, too. OK, well, this oughta be interesting!"

"OK, hun, at the next light turn right on Milton Avenue – the Mall will
be about a half mile up on the right."

"This street's got three lanes in both directions! OK, I'm gonna stay in
the right lane.  That way if the cops show up, there's nowhere for the
other car to go except to the curb."

"Smart, Sean-o! You're always as cool as a cucumber!"

As if appearing by magic, the boys heard a siren off the left rear of the
Equinox.  There were two police squad cars. The first one shadowed Sean and
Andy in the center lane, while the second one abruptly cut off the car that
had been following them, forcing it up over the curb and to a stop.

Once Sean saw that the following car had been stopped he pulled over
immediately and stopped. "Sean-o! The guy in that car just got out! He's
got a gun!" Andy screamed.

Sean turned around to look, and sure enough there was a person with a gun
pointed right at the Equinox. "Get down NOW!" Sean ordered Andy. "Get the
fuck down! Lean down on my lap and I'll cover you! JUST GET DOWN!"

As the boys ducked, they heard the Police order `Drop your weapon!' then a
shot fired, and breaking glass. Sean thought that the back window of the
Equinox had been hit, but he was not about to look. A split second later in
rapid succession the boys heard Bang! Bang! Bang-Bang-Bang! Then
silence. After what seemed like an eternity, a gruff male voice commanded
through a bullhorn, "Driver and passenger in the blue Chevy Equinox! This
is the Janesville Police Department! Exit the vehicle with your hands up!
Repeat, exit the vehicle with your hands up!"

Sean said to Andy, "We have to do what they say! I will get out first and
explain to them that you are not able to exit the vehicle as ordered!"

Sean exited the Equinox with his hands up. He was promptly frisked by the
Officer, who also took his driver's license and handed it to his
partner. "What about the passenger? Why is he not out of the car? Is he
hurt?

"He is not hurt, Officer, but he has a broken leg with a cast on it. He can
only walk with crutches. I told him that I would get out first and explain
about his crutches.  He's not armed. He's not able to do anything with his
hands up because of the crutches. I didn't want to take the risk of him
getting shot because he might appear suspicious if he got out without his
hands up!"

"Smart man!" The Officer said, getting back on the bullhorn. "Passenger in
the blue Equinox, sit up straight in the seat and put your hands on your
head! NOW!"

Andy complied.

"An Officer will assist you exiting the vehicle! Repeat, put your hands on
your head and do not move!"

By that time, a fire engine and two ambulances showed up. The EMT's raced
with a gurney to just behind the Equinox. Sean couldn't see what they were
doing as he was standing in the street off the driver's side front of the
car, and had to divide his attention between his curiosity about who was
following them with a gun, and watching the other Officer help Andy out of
the car. Once out of the car, Sean could see the Officer leading Andy
around to the driver's side of the car by taking him around the rear of the
vehicle.

All of a sudden, Sean heard Andy gasp, "Holy Shit! Oh my God!"

The officer brought Andy over to where Sean was standing, and even though
Andy had not been driving, the Officer took his driver's license to run it
along with Sean's.  Sean thought Andy looked like he had just seen a
ghost. "What is it, And? You're as white as a sheet!"

"Sean-o, the guy... Um, the guy behind us... The one they just shot... It
was John Berrifield! He looks dead!"

"Officer?" Sean spoke up.

"Yes?"

"Andy here thinks he recognizes the guy that was shot. If possible, could
we see the person? We may be able to identify him."

"We've already run his ID, son. We know who he is."

"Officer, I have no idea what the protocol is for things like this, but we
have to know.  Andy saw him and he thinks it's someone we know by the name
of John Berrifield.  His driver's license would have a Kenosha address on
it. Can you tell us if that's who it is?"

"That was the name on the ID, yes."

"Is he dead, Officer?" Andy asked.

"One moment..." The Officer said, stepped away and then returned. "Yes, I'm
afraid he's dead. I'm also afraid that you two will have to accompany me
downtown for questioning. You will come with me in the squad car, and my
partner will drive your vehicle."

"Sean-o, do you think we need to call dad?"

"And, we haven't done anything wrong. I don't see the need to bother dad
with this.  If things look like they're going the wrong way, we'll call
Dix. His dad's a lawyer, ours isn't."

"Yeah, you're right..."

Sean and Andy returned with the Officer to Police Headquarters and were
questioned for about 45 minutes by a Detective. Sean volunteered that he
would instruct the security company to allow the Janesville Police to
access the video surveillance for that day. The Janesville Police also
checked with the Kenosha Police to verify Sean and Andy's story. Satisfied
they had been the victims, the Detective sent them on their way with the
admonishment that should the Police need them for further questioning they
would need to be available, and were not to leave town for 72 hours.

"Detective, again, I don't know how these things go," Sean said. "It would
seem at this point that there wouldn't be the need for us to involve an
Attorney, however in the event that changes, I will call you with their
contact information."

Once out of the building and back in the Equinox Andy said to Sean, "Hey, I
thought the back window got shot out – there's nothing wrong with it! We
should check the car over later just to be sure!"

"Yeah, I thought so, too, but it was a window on the cop car that was shot
out. Maybe he thought he'd shoot the cops and then kill us. I dunno..."

"Sean-o, it was Berrifield's voice – that was the voice in my nightmare
- and that was the voice I heard that night when I was being beaten! It was
him! He was behind all this!"

"I figured that all along. I just didn't think he was insane is all. I
can't feel bad about it, though, And. I know maybe that sounds bad, or
something, but he wanted us dead! He had a gun! He shot at the cops! So,
no, I don't feel bad about it! Does that make me a bad person?"

"No, Sean-o. It makes you normal. I don't feel bad, either! Hey, instead of
going home, I think we need to go see Dix."

"Yeah, I guess yer right, we might need to call his dad again before the
day's out."

Sean drove over to the Dickson home. Just as he pulled in the driveway, he
saw Tim on his way out of the house.

"Hey, Dix!" Sean called.

"Hey, Wymo! Hay, Cass! What's up, dudes?"

"Got a minute? And ya better be sitting when we tell you this..."

"OK, which one of you is pregnant..." Tim teased.

"Fuck off, Dix!" Andy said, "This is serious, man!"

"Jesus Christ, little dude! OK, OK, I can see you guys look serious, so
c'mon around back where we were last night. I'll get us some ice water and
be right out!"

Once Tim returned, Sean and Andy took turns telling him what had just
happened.  "Holy fucking shit!" Tim gasped. "No shit? Yer not shittin' me
now, are ya..."

Andy whipped out his iPhone and brought up the website for the Janesville
Gazette which already had a preliminary story.

"Jesus! You guys are OK, right? I mean, well, um, like, are you hurt? Do
you need anything?"

"Cool yer jets, Dix!" Sean said. "We're fine, but here's why we stopped by:
if we need an Attorney, we'll need to talk to your dad. Why don't you tell
your dad about it at dinner tonight and see what he thinks? I mean right
now the guy that wanted us dead is dead himself, ya know? Besides, we
haven't even told our dad about it yet..."

"WHAT?" Tim asked incredulously.

"Whadya mean?" Sean questioned.

"Well, what the fuck do you mean your dad doesn't know yet!"

"Look, Dix," Andy interjected, "Our dad has a lot on his plate right
now. He's reopening the largest General Motors Assembly Plant in the world,
and a lot of folks in this town are depending on him to make it work. I
read up all about it - I know what that Plant means to this town. We
weren't hurt, and we didn't do anything wrong, so there didn't seem to be
any need to interrupt him, that's all..."

"Fuckin'-A, you guys got balls, I'll tell ya that much..." Tim grinned.

"Dix," Sean replied, "having balls only means you stay cool a few seconds
longer than the other guy, that's all... Anyway, we may need to call your
dad if we need a lawyer, that's why we stopped by. We didn't mean to barge
in..."

"Fuck, Wymo! You get shot at and you're not rattled! I really AM gonna have
a fight on my hands for Quarterback!"

"Yeah, you are, but I meant what I said. If you win, then I'm behind you
110%. I'm a lot of things, Dix, but a liar ain't one of `em."

"No, you're not. I can tell. By the way, you guys, that old Ginny across
the street from me, she's got the hots for both of you big time! I saw her
this morning, and Wymo she couldn't stop going on about your hair, and your
smirk, and this, that and the other thing. Cass, she thinks you're the just
cutest thing since sliced bread, and `such a little smart-ass.' I'm tellin'
ya, she loves you guys! If you guys weren't fudge packers, I'da thought
there might be some hanky-panky goin' on over there!"

All three boys guffawed in a fit of laughter. Andy said he might piss his
pants. He admonished Tim that wasn't fair because of his crutches he
couldn't just whip it out.

"Sean doubled over in laughter again. "Dix, yer a fucker!"

"Wymo, Cass, I've known you guys for all of a couple days now, and I gotta
tell ya, you two are the best thing to hit this town since they started
making Twinkies again!  I mean it! You guys are the balls! By the way, all
of the guys that were here, they all think so, too! It's gonna be a great
year!"

"Dix, we were really unsure before we made the move." Andy said. "Now that
we have, we're glad we're here! Anyhow, we better get going – we gotta
go get some groceries for dinner. Seano's making Shit-on-a-Shingle
tonight!"

"He's making WHAT?"

"I don't know what the fuck it is, Dix!" Andy said, "It must be some shit
that only Wyman's eat!"

"It's Shit-on-a-fucking-Shingle, Dix!" Sean exclaimed. "Why don'tcha come
over and have some, and bring yer dad! We'll eat at 7:00!"

"Well, OK! Do we need to bring anything?"

"Absolutely NOT! You will be our guests!" Andy commanded. "We'll have
dinner, and then maybe play a little Cribbage, or Euchre. Hey, there's five
of us! We'll play Sheepshead! What kind of beer you guys like?"

"Dad's a Miller Lite guy. Myself, it don't matter..."

"OK, we got Miller Lite, PBR, Lienies, and I think some Gray's, too, and
maybe some Point IPA." Sean said. "We should be fine! Dad sometimes likes a
shot of Jaeger when we're playing cards, how's that by you?"

"Works for me!" Tim said.

"OK, 7 o'clock then, Dix?"

"You got it, Wymo!"

"OK, well, we're outta here, then, bud!"

All three young men fist bumped and looked forward to a nice evening of
male bonding.

About 5:00 that afternoon George Dickson walked into his home. "Hey! Tim!
You home?"

"Hey, dad! What's up?"

"Not too much, son. Just wanted to let you know I spoke with Joe Wyman this
morning. Good guy. Seems like the kind of guy who's gonna fit in well here
in town.  We had a nice talk about you and his son, Sean, as well. It's a
good thing you seemed hit it off with his son!"

"Yeah dad, and in fact, Sean and Andy stopped over today. We're, um, you
and me, we're um, having dinner at their house tonight..."

"Oh, really? What time?"

"Seven."

"OK, I'll let your mom know."

"I already did that, dad. Mom can't go because she brought work home with
her tonight..." Tim replied.

"OK, do we need to take anything?"

"No, dad. Andy was very clear about that. Said we're their guests and we
show up at seven... Sean's making something I never heard of before. He
says it's Shit-on-a- Shingle..."

"No kidding! Man, I haven't had that in years! Not since I was in the Navy!
Oh boy, are we in for a treat! You sure you never had it, Tim?"

"Nope..."

"I'm salivating already!"

"Yeah, we're gonna eat and then have a few beers and play Sheepshead,
that's what Andy said..."

"Sheepshead! Now yer cookin' with gas! I tell ya son, these might be some
real nice folks!"

"Well, there's something else, too, dad. I mean there's two things..."

"OK, son. Go ahead."

Tim proceeded to tell George all about the events of that day.

George responded with his usual "I see..." signifying that he was
processing new information. Once George seemed to have absorbed it, Tim
continued, "And, dad, well, here's the second thing... I um, well, ya know,
here's the other thing. What I mean is, um...anyway, you know how Danny's
gay, right?"

"Yes, son, you're gonna tell me that Sean and Andy are gay, that they're
not real brothers and that they're boyfriends, is that about the size of
it?"

"Yeah, dad..."

"I already know that, and I don't give a fuck. Your cousin Danny is my
sister's son.  He's our flesh and blood. Gay? Straight? Doesn't mean shit
to me. Besides, I'd like to meet Wyman, and I'd like to meet your
competition."

"Um, dad, me and Sean, well, I already told you, me and Sean we decided no
matter how this goes for starting Quarterback, we're buds. So there's not
gonna be any talk about competition tonight, OK? Either I win, or he wins,
and whoever wins has the full support of the other one – that's the deal
we made. Fair and square."

"I'm proud of you, Tim!"

"Oh, and don't bring up what happened today – I don't know if Sean and
Andy told their dad yet! If we get there and they haven't said anything
yet, that could be awkward..."

"You're right, son. Look, do your old dad a favor once. Run downstairs in
the rec room and bring up that old painting of the Country Club Golf
Course, will ya?"

"Whadya want with that old thing, dad?" Tim asked, screwing up his face.

"Well it was a gift to me from your Grandfather. It's one of the original
paintings from the old Clubhouse. They had it decorated in a hodge-podge of
styles that were just plain weird, but that painting was framed in a really
expensive, antique frame from Spain. Now, I know that Andy said not to
bring anything, but I also know that Wyman just bought the Alamo. I think
that frame and that painting would go well in that house. We're gonna wrap
it up and give it to them as a sort of house warming gift. We can just wrap
it up in old newspapers..."

"Dad, that's a freakin' awesome idea, and just so ya know, Andy's in charge
of decorating the Alamo. I guess he used to do home staging for his Uncle
who's a builder over by Kenosha, so they put him in charge. We should give
the painting to Andy then..."

"God idea, son..."

"OK, dad, I'll wrap it up and put it in the Escalade. Then we better change
– it's already almost 6:30!"

At the GM Condo, Sean was busy making dinner with Andy's help. Joe was
happy that the boys had invited company for dinner. He was looking forward
to speaking with George Dickson about the legal stuff, and as well, he was
looking forward to a relaxing few hands of Sheepshead.

"OK, And, you got the table all set?"

"Yup, and I set it nice – that's why I'm in charge of decorating the
Alamo, buttface!"  Andy teased as he stuck his tongue out.

"Don't stick that tongue out at me unless you mean business, Mister!"

"Oh, you'll get yours later, Blondie! Right up the kazoo!"

"Promises, promises..."

Joe heard the boys bantering and couldn't help but smile. They were
obviously happy. Joe understood the inner strength both boys had to put
forward due to the loss of Val and Leonard. Sean had been hard working and
studious, but also aloof and a little bit introverted. He suspected things
had been similar for Andy, and perhaps more difficult due to Kathy's
neglectful nature as a mother. Joe knew that the boys' friendship had
endured all that, but at the same time he was heartened to see the positive
effect that their new relationship was having on both of them.

"OK, And, I'm gonna need yer help over here. Now, I'm gonna make the shit
on a shingle. I already got all the stuff for desert prepped, so all you
gotta do is assemble it and put it in the oven."

"OK..."

Sean was well aware that if they were ever gonna eat real food he'd have to
be the cook. Fair deal, he thought, I like to cook and Andy likes to
decorate.

"What the fuck is this shit on a shingle crap anyhow, Sean-o?"

"Here, you can watch me make it while you're assembling the desert!"

"What is this desert gonna be"?

"Rhubarb-raspberry crisp. We'll serve it warm with ice cream."

"OK, so I see the recipe on the iPad, and all I gotta do is put the parts
together like it says, right?"

"Yup, think ya can handle it there, Einstein?"

"Fuck off!"

By this time, Joe in the other room was almost ready to piss his pants he
was trying so hard to stifle a laugh.

Andy watched with some interest as first Sean took a stick and a half of
butter and put it on low heat in a large, heavy soup pot. While the butter
was melting, Sean opened four jars of dried chipped beef, deftly chopping
the beef into 1/2 inch squares, which he placed in a colander and rinsed in
the sink. Then Sean took Ύ cup of flour and whisked it into the butter.

"Hey, And, do me a favor – go to the fridge. I need the half-gallon of
light cream and the pint of heavy cream! Here's a bag, throw `em in there
and hang it on the end of your crutch."

And retrieved the items while Sean flavored the butter-flour roux with some
Coleman's English mustard powder, ground white pepper, dehydrated onion
flakes and a few shots of Tabasco.

"OK, here's the magic, And!" Sean began stirring the cream into the roux,
making a sauce that thickened a bit as it cooked. "See, this is what's
called a cream sauce, or bιchamel. Once it gets to the right thickness,
and for this dish that'd be medium, all I do is dump the beef in, add the
frozen peas, give it a stir, and then finish it with the heavy cream. I
coulda used plain milk, but it would be too thin and wouldn't have the
right texture." Sean proceeded to add the beef and peas and after a minute
a healthy shot of heavy cream. "Done!"

"Sean-o! You can't serve this crap to company! It looks like baby puke!
It`s fucking gross!"

"You just wait and taste it, lover boy! It gets served over buttered toast,
butcha cant' use nice bread for this. It's Wonder Bread, or nuthin'!"

"OK, well at least I got the beer glasses chilling in the freezer. Maybe
after a couple beers our guests won't realize what the food looks like!"

"Shutcher pie-hole and get the fucking desert in the oven, Brown Eyes!
Trust me, yer gonna get it later!"

Joe thought he was going to get cramps from the sideshow he was
witnessing. He decided to go outside on the patio so he could shut the door
and let his pent up laughter out.

At exactly 7:00 p.m. the condo's doorbell rang. Joe was still out on the
patio, so Andy answered the door as Sean was preoccupied making the
toast. When Andy opened the door, he was greeted by the sight of Tim, and a
man whom he was sure was Tim's dad because he looked like a 30-year older
version of Tim with 30 extra pounds on him.

"Hey, Dix! You must be Attorney Dickson! I'm Andy Churchill! Nice to meet
you, Sir!"  Andy said sticking out his hand from his crutch.

"Call me George, Andy! I don't stand on ceremony, son." George Dickson said
with a genuine smile.

At that point, Joe came back in from the patio. "Well, you must be George
Dickson!  I'm Joe Wyman! Put `er there!" Joe extended his had to greet
George.

"Good to meet you, Joe. This is my son, Tim.

"Nice to meet you, Tim. Call me Joe. I'm Andy and Sean's dad."

"Nice to meet you, Joe! Thanks for inviting us over! I've been looking
forward to it all afternoon! I was tellin' Sean and Andy they're the best
thing to happen to this town since they started making Twinkies again!
Seriously, sir, we needed some new blood around here, and these two are
just what the Doctor ordered!" Tim said with the same warm, genuine grin
his dad showed off just a minute earlier.

Joe was mightily impressed by the outgoing, athletic young man standing
there with the stunning auburn hair and friendly smile. He could see how
Sean and Tim would hit it off.

"I'll tell Sean you're here. In the meantime, Andy, show our guests into
the family room. George, Tim, whadya drinkin' guys?"

"Miller Lite if ya got one, Joe!" George answered.

"PBR works for me. Sean said you had it, if not, then anything will do!"
said Tim.

"PBR for me, dad!" Andy called out.

At that point, Sean came out of the kitchen. "Hey, Dix, sorry! I'm just
finishing up cooking!" Sean and Tim fist bumped and exchanged grins. "I bet
you're Tim's dad!"  Sean said, introducing himself to George with a huge
smile and bright eyes. "I'm Sean Wyman! We're really glad you guys could
come over, sir, and it's a pleasure to meet you! Can we get you anything?"

George was astonished at the young man in front of him, and thought to
himself, "Jesus Christ, this kid makes a knock-out first impression!"

"Your dad went to get us some beers, and thanks! Yeah, I'm the father of
this miscreant over here." George said, pointing at Tim with his
thumb. "George Dickson's the name. Call me George, Sean, and it's nice to
meet you, too!"

"Thank you, George. Please, George, Dix, make yourselves at home!"

Joe returned with the beers, giving everyone a cold bottle and a frosted
Pilsner glass.  "Joe, Tim tells me we're having shit-on-a-shingle tonight!
Christ, I haven't had that since I was in the Navy! Man, I'm looking
forward to it!"

"OK, there's gotta be something funny going on here!" Andy cut in with a
mischievous grin on his face. "Dad was all psyched about it, too! Sean-o
says he loves the stuff, but when he showed it to me it looked, well, I
ain't gonna say what I told him it looked like..."

George guffawed. "Yer a regular firecracker over there, aren'tcha, Andy!"

"Andy's one tough little dude, Dad!" Tim said. "Anyway, Cass, what's the
stuff look like, anyway?" Tim asked.

"Go in the kitchen and see for yourself!" Andy said.

"Um, OK..." Tim said and headed off to the kitchen.

After a few seconds, everyone in the family room heard Tim exclaim, "Hey
we're supposed to be buds, and all, but you can't be serious. I gotta
actually EAT that shit?"

George and Joe exchanged looks and then started laughing out loud. "Teen
age boys, I tell ya, Joe! Looks like you got a couple of good one's there!"

"Thanks..." Joe said ruffling Andy's hair. "They're good boys. Your son is
an impressive young man, George."

"Tim was the easiest of our three sons to raise, I'll say that much... He's
got two older brothers. Kevin, the oldest one, is 22. He'll be a senior at
UW-Madison, and David, the middle one, is 20 and he's in the Marines. He's
in Afghanistan right now."

"George, please tell David I said to thank him for his service, and Semper
Fi! I'm USMC myself."

"Where'd you serve?"

"Desert Storm. I was a Sergeant."

"I served in Desert Storm, too. I was a gunner aboard USS Missouri. Yup,
good, old Mighty Mo!"

"You guys sure softened up the Iraqis for us, I tell ya. No one can
appreciate how 16- inch guns can say hello until ya see it with your own
eyes. By the time we got there, you guys had taken a lot of the fight out
of 'em, George!"

"Hey, guys!" Sean interrupted. "Dinner's on!"

"Where's Tim? George asked. "I don't wanna miss out on his losing his
shit-on-a- shingle virginity!"

"Tim's helping me get the food on the table..." Sean answered.

Joe and George exchanged shrugs, both secretly glad their Quarterback sons
were becoming friends.

"OK! Here's the menu for tonight!" Sean said. "We got shit-on-a-shingle,
steamed spinach with butter and vinegar, and for desert there's gonna be
warm rhubarb- raspberry crisp with vanilla ice cream... Hope you like it!"

"George?" Joe said. "Does your family usually say grace before a meal?"

"Yes, we do, Joe."

"OK, Sean, although it's not always been our custom, you say grace tonight,
son."

Sean bowed his head, as did the others, "Father in Heaven, we thank you for
the food we are about to eat even though Tim and Andy think it looks
awful. We thank you for bringing new friends into our lives, we thank you
for our many other blessings, our good health and that we're all here
tonight. Amen."

"Amen" all the others said.

"Dig in, everybody!" Joe said, and in the normal male way of organized
chaos everyone got their plates filled.

Joe, George and Sean tucked in heartily to their meal. Tim and Andy still
looked unconvinced. All of a sudden, Sean began giggling. Joe hadn't seen
Sean giggle for years. "Dix, And, you guys are pussies! Just eat it, it
ain't gonna bite ya, or anything!"

"I'll show ya a pussy, Wymo!" Tim declared, taking a huge bite of the
shit-on-a- shingle. "Hey, this stuff is pretty decent! I mean, yeah, it
looks like a plate full of barf, but it tastes good! OK, Cass, eat up, bud,
or your boyfriend over there's gonna make you sleep on the sofa tonight!"

Andy still appeared skeptical, but at this point resistance was futile, so
he took a bite. A few seconds later, he looked up, "Wow! Dix was
right. This stuff is so gross to look at, but it's good! We should have it
all the time! Sorry, Sean-o, you were right..."  Andy fake pouted while the
entire table broke up in laughter.

The five men finished dinner, each one having two helpings of
shit-on-a-shingle, and enjoying the desert.

"You really cooked this whole dinner?" George asked Sean.

"Yes, I did. All scratch made! Andy helped with the desert, but there was
no pre- made food here. I hope you enjoyed it!"

"Enjoyed it? Sean, that was the best shit-on-a-shingle I ever had! How do
get the sauce to be that consistency, anyway?"

"Cream. The sauce is mainly light cream, but at the end I finish it off
with a little bit of heavy cream. Milk just doesn't give the same results."

"Wymo, I wanna marry someone just like you someday!" Tim teased.

Joe almost spit his beer out, and laughed so hard he began coughing.

"I got some extra equipment you might not like down there, Dix!" Sean shot
back, winking at Tim who blushed slightly.

"George, what are we gonna do with these three Indians?" Joe said.

"Bring back memories, it does... I tell ya, it's good to see young men
getting along like this. All the problems we got in the world today and a
guy can still run across fine kids like these three... Sean, Andy, Ti, you
guys give me faith in the future.  You're all such great examples of what
young men can be, and should be. Now, enough of that! I heard we were gonna
play some Sheepshead tonight!"

"I haven't played in years, but I figure it's like riding a bike!" Joe
said. "I'm in!"

"Penny a point." Sean said.

The men retired to the patio, Sean taking extra care to be sure that Andy
was holding up alright. Andy seemed to be getting stronger every day, but
after the attempted shooting, Sean was still a bit concerned. Logic told
him he needn't be, that Andy was a strong person, but Sean's heart told him
to keep watch.

"Care for a cigar, George?" Joe asked. "I picked these up at Shakers in
Milwaukee a couple of weeks ago. Don't tell anyone, but these are the real
deal. Cuban."

"Don't mind if I do, Joe! And thanks. Been a while since I got treated to a
Cuban."  George noticed the size and style of the cigar. "Hey, Andy, know
what kind of a cigar this is?"

"Yeah, of course I do! It's a Churchill..."

"I shoulda figured you'd know that!"

"Gimme it once." Andy said to George.

"You smoke cigars?" George winked.

"Nope, but check this out!" Andy took the cigar from George, screwed up his
face so he looked like a bulldog and in a gravely, British-accented voice
announced, "If the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand
years, THIS will be their finest hour!"

The others burst into laughter, Tim actually spitting out some of his beer
and stammering.

"So, how we playin'? Sean asked once everyone calmed down. "Call and Ace
for your partner?"

"Yup!" Tim answered.

"Blitz cracks, and re-cracks?"

"Hell yes!"

"Dealer choice to pass, redeal and double it, or call a leaster?"

"Of course!"

"Alrighty then! Let's roll!" Sean said. "Cut the cards, low man deals!"

For two and a half hours the men played cards. Andy kept score. They talked
about everything, and anything. Joe and George could tell they'd be good
friends. Sean and Tim cemented the budding friendship and respect between
the two of them, but the star of the evening was Andy. Andy's quick wit,
impish, smart aleck nature, and bright smiles had the other four in
stitches the whole time.

At the end of the evening the score ended up Tim +10, Joe +9, Andy -1, Sean
-8 and George -10. They decided to forego the pennies, because as Tim said,
"what the fuck am I gonna do with 10 pennies..."

As they broke up, the boys stood around talking, while Joe and George
finished their cigars.

"Thanks for having us over, Joe! I had a great evening! I gotta tell ya,
those are two fine young men you've got there! Both of them! Very
impressive, each in their own way! By the way, I've already been in touch
with Crossman. Don't worry about a thing. Between Garrett and me, your
sons, should they need it, will have some of the best legal representation
in the State of Wisconsin. The perps that almost killed your son, they
won't have that. Garrett and I promised each other that if anything goes to
trial here, we will hold the State's feet to the fire so that whoever
almost cost Andy his life will pay the maximum price. I placed the full
services of my office at Garrett's disposal for this."

"I appreciate that, George. Andy's had a rough past few weeks, and my
promise to his mother was to keep him safe. That's why he's here instead of
back in Kenosha.  We'll talk more about that some other time. Anyway, I had
a great evening, too, George, and I think I'll take ya up on that round of
golf sooner rather than later! I should also say that I liked Tim. I liked
him a lot. I'm really glad Sean and Andy made such a good friend. They're
lucky young men! All three of them. And they're smart – they're smart
enough to know it's better to be the Three Musketeers than the Three
Stooges..."

"Hey, dad!" Tim called out.

"Yes, son?"

"We almost forgot!"

"Oh, shit, yer right! We did almost forget!

"Forgot what?" Sean asked.

"Wait here!" Tim said.

In a minute, Tim marched back in bearing an impossibly large bundle wrapped
up in newspaper. He put it down and said, "Well, open it!"

Joe, Sean and Andy stared at each other not knowing which one should open
it.

Finally, Tim said, "Cass, you're decorating the Alamo, you open it..."

Carefully, Andy unwrapped the package.

"Holy shit!" Andy screamed. "This is PERFECT! Dad, you know the bar inside
the house, right? This is perfect! The frame is appropriate to the house,
and the golf painting is exactly the right thing for a bar! It looks to be
an original painting, too!  Wow! Thanks!"

"It's a painting of the Janesville Country Club Golf Course." George
said. "I don't know the exact date of the painting, but it was probably
give, or take, done about 1900. It's one of the original paintings from the
bar at the old Clubhouse. I do know that the frame is from Spain, and it's
the only frame the painting has ever been in. I got the painting from my
Grandfather. We'd like you to have it as a token of welcome. Andy, I'm
excited that you might have a place for it!"

"George, I dunno what to say! It's very thoughtful! I put Andy in charge of
decorating the house, and by God, if he says it goes in the bar, well than
that's where you'll see it!" Joe said.

"Alright, well, we're gonna get out of your hair now!" George said. All the
men then took turns shaking hands and saying that they'd have another
evening sometime soon. George and Tim walked to the Escalade and piled in
with George at the wheel.

"Well, what didja think, dad?"

"Tim, they're nice people. Joe is a great guy. He's running the most
important operation in this whole town. That Sean, I gotta tell ya, if he
wasn't a football player, he'd be a movie star with those looks, and that
smirk of his. Andy, what can I say?  The kid's a regular ball of
energy. When he gets that cast off, lookout! My heart went out to him, and
if there are legal matters in the future, well, I'm in that kid's corner
and I don't give a fuck! They're are the kind of folks you want as friends
in life."

In the meantime, Joe and Sean were picking up after the little party. Andy
insisted on doing his part, so they figured a way to hang trash bags on his
crutches so Andy could transport them to the garbage barrel.

"Sean?" Joe asked.

"Yeah, dad..."

"I had an excellent time this evening. I liked George, and I think we'll
become friends and golf buddies, but I gotta tell ya, that Tim impressed
me. He's straightforward, and I can tell that he's honest. I can also tell
that he's got good leadership qualities, I mean, just the way he puts
things."

"Yeah, dad, there's no bullshit about Tim, that's for sure."

"Son, a guy like that is someone to cultivate as a friend. He's someone you
want to have your back in an emergency. Not only is he your friend, but
just as important, he's Andy's friend, too. I can tell that Tim has a soft
spot in his heart for the `little dude' as he calls him. The fact that in
your age group someone who is a potential starting Quarterback would
befriend a much smaller boy who is new in town, injured, and not on the
team speaks a lot to his character. Keep that in mind."

"Are you guys talking about me!" Andy asked as he jetted into the room on
his crutches.

"Holy crap, you're getting fast on those things, And!" Sean said. "No, we
were talking about George and Tim. So anyway, what do you think?"

"Well, OK... I liked George. He seems like a good shit. He's got a good
sense of humor, and well, he's Tim's dad! And you know, old Ginny spoke
really highly of him, too. I think Tim's a good guy! So, there! That's what
I think..."

"OK," Sean said, "Here's what I think. It's been a helluva day, but I'm
anxious to see if there's anything on the news about those arrests, and
about Berrifield. I'm gonna turn on the TV..."

Sean then padded over to the living room, and switched on Channel 3 from
Madison as there was no local TV station in Janesville. "Hey, guys, the
news comes on in about three minutes!" Joe and Andy came into the room and
took seats. After what seemed more like three hours than three minutes the
news finally came on.

The news anchor began, "A shooting on the streets of Janesville is our top
story tonight. Janesville Police shot and killed a 17-year-old minor today
who allegedly had been in pursuit of a car carrying two other teenage
boys. Police forced the suspect's vehicle to the curb. The suspect got out
of the car wielding a gun, shot at one of the Officers and was then shot
five times by another Officer. The suspect was pronounced dead at the
scene. We take you now to Police Headquarters in Janesville where the Chief
of Police is taking questions."

The television cut to a large conference room at the Police
Headquarters. The Chief strode to the podium and began, "Good evening,
ladies and gentlemen. As you know, this afternoon two Janesville Police
cruisers responded to a 911 call. The call involved the driver of a vehicle
claiming that they were being followed suspiciously by another vehicle. One
of our cruisers forced the suspicious vehicle to the curb in the 1700 block
of Milton Avenue whereupon the driver exited the vehicle, drew a firearm
and discharged it in the direction of one of our Officers. Another Officer
on the scene, acting properly and in accordance with Department training
and policy, drew his service revolver and fired five rounds into the
suspect. EMT's arrived at the scene shortly thereafter and pronounced the
suspect dead. The driver and the passenger of the vehicle that was being
followed were not hurt, were brought in for questioning and then
released. Neither the driver, nor the passenger of that vehicle were armed,
or had any outstanding warrants, or contraband. I will add that all of the
civilians involved were minors; therefore, we will not be releasing names.
At this time I will take a limited number of questions."

"Chief, Jay Gordon WTMJ Milwaukee. Chief, there is some information that
this may be connected with an ongoing investigation in Kenosha. What do you
know about that?"

"I can tell that we were contacted by the Kenosha Police. My understanding
is that there is an ongoing investigation in Kenosha related to a different
matter. I cannot comment further than that at this time."

The Chief took a few more questions, thanked the reporters for coming and
bid them good evening.

"Wow!" Joe exclaimed. "Imagine that!"

"Um, dad..." Sean said. "Um, Andy and me, well, we were the ones being
followed. It was John Berrifield that was following us. We think he meant
to kill us..."

"What! Why didn't you tell me? What kind of bullshit is that? You two
almost get killed and you don't think to bring it up?"

"Dad," Sean continued, "We didn't know who it was until the cops shot him,
and we certainly didn't know whoever it was had a gun! We only called the
cops because he was tailing us. How were we supposed to know that when we
got in the car to go to the Mall that this was gonna happen? That would be
impossible to know! Besides, who would think that Berrifield would drive
all the way here from Kenosha to do this? It all happened so fast! We
weren't hurt, the car wasn't hurt, and we know how busy you are and how
much you have on your plate! We just didn't think it was worth it to
interrupt your day when you haven't even been on the job for a week!  Then
Dix and his dad came over for dinner and it just kind of slipped our minds
because we were having such a good time! I'm sorry, dad, but we didn't do
anything wrong, and there wouldn't have been anything you could have done
anyway! It was all over in less than ten minutes..."

"OK, Sean, you have a point – there isn't anything I could have
done. But still! You two fucking Hellions are gonna be the death of me!"

"Dad?" Andy interjected.

"Yes, son..."

"I want you to know that Sean kept his promises today. He didn't go
anywhere without me, and he kept his other promise, too: he didn't let
anyone touch me. When he saw the gun, he didn't hesitate. He made me get
down and he covered me with his entire body. Dad, you should be really
proud of Sean."

"I'm proud of both of you, Andy. I think it's pretty clear now that this is
at an end. I mean, it's obvious who was behind it all. We don't know why;
we may never know why. That doesn't mean I think it's OK now for you two to
travel alone. I don't, so that rule is still in effect. Do me a favor;
check in one of the Milwaukee stations tomorrow – I've got a feeling
that there will be something happening in Kenosha. If it does, text me!
That's an order, guys!"

"Yes, sir!" both boys saluted.

"OK," Joe said, "Who wants a shot of Jaeger? Sean, go get the shot glasses
and get us all a fresh beer! I fucking swear, you two shitheads are gonna
give me a fucking heart attack!"

Sean returned with a tray holding an ice-cold bottle of Jaegermeister, and
three bottles of PBR.

"Give us a good pour, Sean-o!" Andy said.

All three mean hoisted their shot glasses, clinked them and down the hatch
the mysterious German liqueur went followed by a hearty quaff of PBR.

"Ahhhhhhh!" all three went.

"I guess this is what life is all about, guys. I shouldn't be the one to
bitch, I mean, I went off to Iraq to get shot at by Saddam Hussein's Army
and I survived. All's well that ends well, I guess..."

What the three men could not know was that 70 miles to the east, two
Kenosha Police cruisers were swinging into action.

END CHAPTER THIRTEEN