Heather looked serious. “So, John, you’ve come a really long way just to write a book?”
“Yes, I have.”
“And you want to write about the Walnuts?”
“Yes, that would be nice, if you do not mind?”
“I don’t mind,” said Heather, “just as long as I don’t end up looking like a nut job, like the rest of them. They’re all crazy, you know.”
“My dear, John will be honest, I promise,” Camper said, putting his arm around her shoulder.
Chapter 3
“Uh oh, Babad Bob is here,” Heather said, looking out the front window. “He’s not going to be happy seeing Camper.”
“Who is Babad Bob?” asked John.
“Oh, just Mother’s psycho boyfriend,” said Heather.
“Maybe we should go?”
“Baloney. You’re our friends, and Bob will just have to deal with it.” Heather left to answer the door.
“Get out your notepad, this guy is really something.” Ray winked at John.
Bob stormed in, took one look at Camper, and snorted in disgust.
“What do you want?” asked Danielle, annoyed.
“I have some unfinished business,” Bob declared, stomping through the front room headed for the bedrooms.
Danielle stayed in the kitchen with John and Ray while Heather went back to her bedroom.
*
Heather shouted from the hall a few minutes later: “My God, he’s got a knife!”
“Oh damn, I should have kept an eye on him,” said Danielle, heading quickly to Heather.
“What the hell is going on?” Danielle yelled, rounding the corner into her bedroom.
“Babad Bob is attacking the fuzzy bush!” Heather pointed to the backyard through the sliding door. The yard was confined by a seven-foot masonry wall.
Everyone rushed to the slider to see Bob with a butcher’s knife in his hand. He was in a frenzy, chopping at a ten-foot-tall bush covered with large, white, fuzzy seeds. Bob and the air around the bush were encompassed in a white, cottony down.
“Bob!” shouted Danielle. “You leave that bush alone!”
He continued to hack away.
“Bob!” she shouted louder, going into the backyard.
He continued to chop at the bush, ignoring her.
She marched up to him and slapped him on the back of the head to get his attention. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I’m not going to have any more of my evenings ruined by this bush!” shouted Bob, not slowing his attack.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” she said, “so you got a couple of fuzzies on your jacket. It certainly didn’t ruin your evening.”
“I’m concerned about my appearance, you know that,” he huffed, still slashing branches with the knife. “First impressions are very important.”
“What kind of first impression does this make?” Danielle burst out laughing. “Acting like a maniac?”
“I don’t care what your boyfriend thinks.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she said like she was tired of the implication.
Bob stopped the attack and was breathing hard. His face was red and sweaty, making the fuzz stick. It was matted in his hair and jammed behind his glasses. He was totally covered down to his waist. From behind him, the sun was shining through the fuzz, giving him an unearthly look. Some of the fuzz had worked its way into his nose, so he gave a hefty snort, causing some of it to float away, sparkling in the sun.
“Bob, you’ve never looked so good,” Heather declared. “Don’t move. Let me get my camera.”
“That’s it!” Bob proclaimed, thrusting his right hand with the index finger extended into the air. “I will not allow myself to be ridiculed!”
Danielle laughed. “Too late for that.”
“I’m going to take a shower,” he announced, heading toward the sliding door.
“Like hell, mister,” said Danielle. She stepped in front of Bob to cut off his route to the bedroom. “You aren’t coming in like that. I’ve spent all morning cleaning.”
“What do you expect me to do?”
Danielle tried to look at him sternly, but he looked like the abominable snowman, covered in all the fuzz and she started laughing again. “Go home, Bob. It’s already the fuzzy bush two, you zip.”
“This should be my home,” he said, pouting.
“Well, it’s not, thank God,” Heather said. She had returned with her camera and started clicking happily away. “Could you turn a little to the right?”
“As usual, we have some important issues to resolve, and you two make a joke about it,” Bob growled, turning and heading toward the side wall. “I’m going home! I know when I’m not wanted!”
He reached the wall and pulled himself up with his arms, huffing and cursing. He struggled to grip the rough stone with his tennis shoes, but failed and fell back, swearing under his breath. He stepped back three paces, eyed his objective, and took a run at the wall, this time managing to get his elbows and lower arms on the top. He struggled to maintain his hold for a moment as Heather ran over, still taking pictures. With a final curse and a grunt, he pulled himself completely up and over the wall. Another grunt and a curse announced his landing on the other side.
“These are some great pics,” said Heather.
“I wish you’d refrain from continually making fun of poor Bob,” Danielle told her before heading inside.
“But it’s so easy.”
Ray and John had been watching the incident from inside the sliding glass doors.
“I guess Bob wasn’t too happy that I’m here,” Ray said as Danielle passed them.
“Yeah, that usually sets him right off,” she said over her shoulder and left the bedroom.
*
They had just returned to the front room when they heard rapid, high-pitched barking from the neighbor’s yard, followed by a loud shriek.
“Snickerdoodle’s got him!” Heather yelled.
The four of them ran out the front door just as Bob’s head and hands appeared at the top of the neighbor’s wall. His glasses were crooked, and his face was still covered with fuzz.
“Aaaaauuuuuggghh!” Bob looked terrified as the dog’s vicious barking continued from behind the wall he was frantically trying to scale.
“Tear his ass up, Snickerdoodle!” yelled Heather.
“Yaaaooooowww!” he shrieked again, when Snickerdoodle got in a good solid strike. This gave Bob a second wind. He pulled his upper body on top of the wall, where he rested a second, thinking he had reached safety. Then he let out another “Yaaaooooowww!” and with little regard for his landing, flung his entire body over the wall with a flip. Attached to his left pant leg was a small black-and-white dog. The dog lost its grip and was whipped through the air by Bob’s cartwheel. It sailed fifteen feet through the air and landed hard on the grass, tumbling four or five times before coming to rest next to a swimming pool.
Bob landed heavily on his shoulder, but the grass was soft enough to take most of the shock. He rolled over and lay on his back. Then he pulled himself up, leaning on his elbows.
Both Bob and the dog were shaking their heads. They looked like they were trying to clear their thoughts, trying to get a read on the situation, both trying to decide what to do next.
“Little bastard,” Bob growled, “I ought to—”
His threat was stopped short by a menacing growl from Snickerdoodle.
“Uh oh!” yelled Bob, trying to scramble to his feet, which made the dog charge. He screamed again as the little dog rushed him.
“Don’t you hurt Snickerdoodle!” yelled Heather.
Bob only managed to stand up halfway before the dog grabbed the front of his shirt with its teeth. It whipped its head back and forth with blinding speed.
“Aaaaauuuuuggghh!” Bob yelped.
He grabbed the dog hanging from his shirt and tried to pry it away from him, but the dog wouldn’t let go. He took off running with Snickerdoodle worki
ng his shirt to ruins.
He took four running strides to the pool and then launched himself into the air. His feet hit the water first, his legs still pumping. He was stretched out at a forty-five-degree angle, and his chest—Snickerdoodle still firmly attached—smacked the water hard, followed by his face, which hit even harder.
There was another splash when Heather dove into the pool almost on top of Bob and the dog. She came to the surface almost immediately with Snickerdoodle firmly in her grasp.
Bob tried to straighten his tattered shirt while calmly wading to the steps leading out of the pool.
Heather was comforting Snickerdoodle, who was shaken by the plunge.
Bob placidly climbed the steps and exited the water, calmly walking away from the pool, his movement a little shaky, water cascading off his clothes, his shoes squishing against the concrete. He reached into his back pocket and extracted his soggy wallet. “I’m going home now,” he declared, passing John and Camper. He walked by Danielle. “I’ll call you about this evening,” he said, like nothing had happened, and continued squishing down the sidewalk.
“Well, John,” Ray said, watching Bob squish and drip down the sidewalk. “What do you think of Babad Bob?”
John looked bewildered.
“John, you haven’t seen anything yet,” Ray commented nonchalantly.
*
No one had really noticed the pool man, who had been there the whole time. He was cursing under his breath, watching a raft of white fuzzies form on the surface of the pool he had just cleaned. However, the sour look on his face changed to one of longing when his eyes locked on Danielle.
*
The four sat at Danielle’s dining room table.
“So, John, you still want to go along tonight? I can guarantee something to write about,” Danielle said.
“Is Bob going?” he asked.
“Hell no!” Danielle and Heather said in unison. They looked at each other and laughed.
“Nobody in our family can deal with him,” Danielle said.
“He’d ruin the whole trip,” added Heather.
“Then why do you consider him your boyfriend?” asked John.
“Oh, Bob’s okay if you keep him away from my family,” said Danielle.
“And he’s a sales rep for a big company and travels a lot,” added Heather. “She’s in it for all the trips.”
“I am not. You make me sound so mercenary. I’m truly fond of Bob, and he does nice things for you too, snot.”
“Not! And I didn’t say I didn’t like him. It’s just that you never know what’s going to set him off. You guys saw what happened today.”
“Yeah, that was nothing out of the ordinary for Babad Bob,” Danielle confessed.
There was a knock at the door. Heather got up to answer it.
“So, are you in?” Danielle asked John.
John looked at Ray.
“It’ll be good for you,” said Ray. “It’ll get you started off in the right direction.”
“Yes, I think I would enjoy spending more time with the Walnuts,” said John.
“You don’t just spend time with the Walnuts,” said Danielle. “You’re either up to it or you’re out, quickly, but if you’re in, then you’re in over your head.”
“This is true,” Ray confirmed.
“Okay, it starts with the party tonight. I’m going to see if my friend Gigi wants to go. She called this morning with nothing to do.”
“Oh, don’t do that to John,” Ray said seriously.
“Gigi?” Heather walked back to the table followed by a short, stocky guy that was fidgeting. “Why did you mention Gigi?”
“I thought John might enjoy a little company, that’s all,” replied Danielle.
“Mother, Gigi isn’t company, she’s someone to do.”
“Oh hush, snot,” said Danielle. “Oh, hi, Ferkle, what’s up?”
“Not!” said Heather.
“I just brought you some more jokes,” Ferkle said, looking at Ray and John with displeasure. “My Internet friends keep me well-supplied, you know.”
“Yes, they do. Sit down; take a load off your feet.”
“Oh no, I’m much too busy with my business. I don’t have time for idleness.” He looked again at Ray and John with disappointment and shook his head. “It’s difficult when you have to work and others don’t.”
“Well, I for one think that work is overrated,” Danielle said.
“Oh!” Ferkle jumped back. “I, ah . . . I . . . I didn’t mean you!” Ferkle looked absolutely terrified. “I mean others . . . I mean someone as beautiful as you shouldn’t have to work, I mean—”
“Oh, for . . .” Heather finally cut him off. “You stepped on your dick, now take it like a man and—”
“Heather!” shouted Danielle.
“Mother, he tried to insult Camper and John, and then butter you up.”
“He did no such thing!”
Ferkle seemed whole again hearing Danielle defend him.
“Mother, you were blinded by flattery, as usual.”
Chapter 4
Danielle, Heather, John and Gigi, a dark haired, blue eyed, sultry beauty, were riding in Danielle’s car, Danielle driving.
“Are you sure me going out to the ranch is a good idea?” Gigi asked.
“Oh, Mother doesn’t hold grudges,” said Danielle.
“What?” Heather cut in loudly. “Are you kidding? Are we talking about the same person here?”
“Oh, Mother was plastered. She won’t remember Gigi.” Danielle then explained to John. “There was a little altercation the last time my mother and Gigi met.”
“I got confused,” said Gigi. “It won’t happen again.”
“You got drunk,” said Heather. “It happens every time.”
“Why don’t you two try to get along?” asked Danielle.
“We would have to have something in common, right, Mother?”
“I’m sure you can find some common ground,” Danielle said.
“You’d be comfortable if I was more like her?” asked Heather.
“Anyway,” Danielle continued, “Gigi came for Thanksgiving dinner at my place, last year, and my parents were there with my brother, Ricky, and one of his slutty women. Gigi and this chick got into an argument about who had the best tits. They decided my father should judge the competition, and my mother walked in. Needless to say, she wasn’t too happy catching poor old Dad checking the firmness of Gigi’s left breast.”
“I’ll say,” said Heather. “I don’t think I’d ever seen Grandma that pissed before.”
“Poor Jed was just trying to help,” added Gigi. “He’s such a sweet man.”
“His innocence was blinded by his enthusiasm, if I remember correctly,” said Danielle. “Just don’t get into any anatomy discussions tonight, will you? And for God’s sake, if Ricky is there, just try to ignore him. You two cause a lot of problems sometimes.”
“He’s a pig,” exclaimed Gigi.
“Now there’s some common ground,” Heather added quickly.
Danielle turned back to John. “Now, I want to warn you again, John. My parents, especially my mother, can be tough if you get off on the wrong foot—like Camper did—so don’t let her bait you.”
“Bait?”
“Yeah,” said Heather. “She’ll try to get you to say something stupid, and then you’re dead meat.”
“Dead meat?”
“Mother, this guy doesn’t stand a chance.”
“Oh, he’ll be okay. It’s only five o’clock. He’ll get in under the dreaded number six deadline.”
“He still doesn’t stand a chance,” said Heather. “First chance she gets, Grandma is going to give him a haircut he’ll never forget.”
“Haircut?”
“Oh, John, just remember, it’s all in good fun,” said Danielle.
“Why are your parents so difficult, as you say?” he asked.
“It’s just in their nature. They like to test people t
o see what they’re made of.”
“People beware?” added John, smiling proudly.
“Yes, you remembered,” said Danielle.
Chapter 5
Danielle slowed down to make a turn. “There’s my parents’ place, down there behind that gate.” She started down a lane bordered on the left side by date palms and the right by a tall, thick hedge with bright green trees behind it.
At the end of the lane, large iron gates hung from a tall, wide, arched structure with a red tile roof. A thick belt of green vegetation grew left and right from the gate. Behind it was a large fountain, partly visible, and farther behind, across a large lake, stood a house, surrounded by big trees.
A second gate to their right led to another house. This house was far back from the gate and was covered in vines. Danielle turned right. As they drove up to the gate, a pack of dogs ran out to greet them.
“This is Harold and Madeline’s, where the party is.” Danielle honked, and a man walked out onto a large, vine-shrouded patio and waved. “That’s Harold,” she said.
The gate opened automatically and Danielle drove forward, the dog pack scattering to let them through.
“Watch out for the dogs. They’ll mob you if you let them,” she warned.
When they stopped, Heather was the first one out, the dogs jumping in excitement, surrounding her as she tried to pet each one.
John got out of the car, and a large male dog came toward him. The hair on the dog’s neck was sticking up. A deep growl emanated from his throat.
“Hey, Trappy, cool your jets!” yelled Harold, stepping off the patio. He yelled to John, “He’s just showing off, so don’t worry about him.”
John didn’t seem a bit concerned. He pursed his lips and Trappy’s ears shot up. “We are going to be friends,” he told Trappy. The dog, upon hearing John’s voice, immediately started wagging its tail.
“You seem to have a way with dogs,” said Harold.
“We are all in it together,” said John.
“That’s a refreshing attitude. Most people don’t think that way.”
“That is because they have no idea what animals are capable of.”
Harold nodded.
Gigi was the dogs’ next target. She giggled and bent over to pet one of the smaller ones, which gave Trappy a clear shot at her exposed rear. Trappy rammed his long snout, under her short skirt, right up between her legs.
She shrieked, “Whoa cowboy!” turning, and then shaking her finger at Trappy. “We barely know each other.”
“Trappy, you nasty dog,” shouted Harold. “That’s no way to treat our lady friends.”