Rollins Hates Cops

"Sure, that's why I'm signing tapes on a Friday. Marty swears the mall will be filled with people.

"So what about Saturday and Sunday?'' she asked.

"I have to go to Southport right after the signing. They have some kind of festival and street dance on the fourth. I'm doing a piece on it for a travel magazine. How about you?''

"Me, I'm supposed to go to a cookout with the family tomorrow at lunch, then I have nothing else till Monday morning at nine. Why, are you inviting me along for the weekend?''

"I hadn't thought of it, but it would be nice to have some company for a change. I'm afraid you would never find a motel room though.''

"What are you doing, sleeping on the beach?''

"No, but I made my reservations three months ago.''

"I meant, stupid, I could stay with you. That is if you haven't become a rapist or anything. You haven't have you?'' there was no real concern in her voice

"No, but what would your family say? I mean it might be innocent, but they would never believe it.''

"I guess, I just won't tell them. God knows I'm old enough to go to the beach with a man.''

"If I were any other man, they probably would agree with you. In my case you will catch hell if they ever find out.''

"When was the last time you talked to any member of my family?''

"The day I signed the divorce papers.''

"So, if I'm not going to tell and you never see them, how the hell are they going to find out?''

"You have a point.''

"Are you still driving that old beat up land cruiser?''

"No, it died on me a few years ago. I replaced it with an International Scout.''

"Sounds like a farm truck,'' she giggled. I could tell she was getting excited about the trip.

"I guess it is at that. I need it sometimes to get to those far off places I write about.''

"What far off places? I'll bet you haven't written about anyplace, over five hundred miles from here."

"And how would you know that?'' I asked.

"I keep up with you a little. I told you I had read some of your writing.''

"You need a four wheel drive to get to some of the places within five hundred miles.'' I said a little uncomfortably.

"I was just kidding. I read the piece you did on the ghost town in the mountains. I liked it by the way. Do you ever go back there?''

"No, but I am going to retire there one of these days.'' I said it with a smile.

"So, what time do we leave tomorrow?''

"If you are serious, be at the Asheboro Mall around three. I hope to wind down then, if not at least by five.''

"I think I will go home and pack. By the way, we are taking my car.'' She said it as a weak order. I could have contradicted her, but I just nodded. Leaving the Scout in the mall parking lot wouldn't be a problem. Nobody in his right mind would steal that piece of junk.

I should have worked on a new tape for Marty, but when I got home the most I could manage was to have a drink. I drank the Jim Beam and Pepsi slowly, because I was cutting down on my drinking. I was down to four very weak drinks a night. I probably consumed no more than four ounces an evening. For me that was just a drop.

The slight amount of alcohol had no effect on my writing. Back when I was a heavier drinker, I thought it helped, that is until I read some of the pages when sober. I had gone back to tape all my old novels and short stories. When I read them sober, I was forced to rewrite almost all of them.

Taping them had required that I buy a fancy cassette recorder. Marty had insisted that it was the very least quality tape he could work with. Marty was a whiz with that kind of thing. He had installed a boom mic over my computer so that I could read the crap right from the screen. He even had a kill switch for me to do the most basic of editing. When he got the tape, he would run it through some kind of computer gyrations until it came out clean.

Marty took on the partnership because he needed something to do during the week. The band played over the weekends, he was therefore on the road most every weekend. He worked on our tapes when he wasn't. Being on the road actually helped. He pitched the tapes everywhere he went. Marty had built up a pretty good business for himself and a kind of cult following for me. Our customers were mostly truck drivers and salesmen. Lately we had begun making inroads into the joggers. They were a little more upscale crowd, so I was surprised they bought the heavy macho crap. I was even more surprised when Marty informed me that most joggers were middle-class, middle-aged women. It never occurred to me that women would buy my work. As Janet had said, it was a little too loaded with testosterone.

Marty and his band were on the road over the weekend of the fourth, so I sat up in the mall alone. I set up in the wrong place, according to the mall manager. She moved me from the entrance of the bookstore, to the very center of the mall. I was by the fountain. I managed to convince her, to allow me the move of a few feet to avoid the fountain's spray.

The small card table, and folding lawn chair had seen many of these events. I was as comfortable as I was likely to get when the mall doors opened at nine. I sat like a statue surrounded by three large boxes of tapes. I sat like that for over two hours before anyone stopped. The sign on my easel usually attracted a few people. It read, "Meet the author of the acclaimed Red neck Mystery Series. Acclaimed by whom, Marty never told me. On the card table along with the boxes of tapes were three Walkman tape players. People could preview our demo tape before actually plunking down their money. The demo story ran eighteen and a half minutes, most people never got through it. They either bought a six-pack or they fled in horror.

With the six-pack, the customer got six red neck mysteries about an hour long each, also the demo tape free. If you were going to own the tape, why waste time listening to it in the mall. The six-pack sold for ten bucks, of which Marty and I split the seven-dollar profit. I never made much at the signings but it helped to increase our novel and mail order businesses. The six-packs could be sold as individual tapes at two bucks each but most people bought the six-pack. Some new customers tried one tape before investing in the six-pack, but most went for it all.

I sold and signed ten six-packs and even a couple of novels. It seemed I already had a fan in Asheboro. At least the woman, who bought them as a gift for her trucker husband, swore he was a fan. Things were going full blast when Janet arrived. I explained that I couldn't leave until five.

"In that case, I am going to do a little shopping. I'll check back with you.''

It actually was a busy afternoon. I continued to have people drift by to listen to the demo. I had a thick enough skin, so as not be angry, when some people walked away without buying anything.

I recognized the soft little bleached blond who stood in front of the table around four p.m. She had bought a single red neck mystery tape earlier. Since she smiled at me, I was less concerned than I might have been. I hated it when people tried to return a tape after having played it at home.

"Mr. Rollins, you are Mr. Rollins?'' she asked with that smile.

"Yes ma'am, what can I do for you.''

"My husband listened to your tape. He sent me back to ask you about carrying them in our restaurant. We have a lot of truckers stop in there. He thought he might buy a few to put by our register.''

"Marty Wilson is my distributor. I can have him call you. Why don't you write your number down for me.''

"Sure, do you have any idea what kind of deal we can make? We are a pretty small business and we can't afford to tie up a lot of money.''

"Marty takes care of all that, but I don't think you have to buy a lot of tapes, and we do have a buy back policy. If you decide they aren't selling, we buy them back from you.''

"That sounds good to me. We just can't afford to get stuck with anything.''

"I know, it's like that with must of our dealers.'' She walked away more confident than when she arrived. She also left with a six-pack.

"Okay, who was the broad?'' Janet asked only half kidding.

"Someone who wants to become a dealer,'' I replied.

"Oh,'' Janet said. "So you about ready?''

I looked at my watch. I had to be out of the mall by five. I still had a half hour to go. "I have to stay fifteen more minutes.''

"Well, use that time to autograph a tape for me.''

"Sure which one do you want?''

"The one with the least amount of violence."

"There are none without at least a little violence in them. I do have one without a murder though.'' I sorted through the loose tapes until I found, `Indian Summer Night'. I signed the insert card and handed it to her.

"So what's it about?'' Her good mood seemed to have returned.

"It's about an hour,'' I replied seriously.

"God, you are such a smart ass,'' she said with a great smile. "Just for that, I am going to play it on the drive to the beach.''

"Oh god, do I have to listen to my own voice all that way?''

"If I have to suffer, then so do you.'' She had switched from the suspicious mood when she first returned, to being really high. The mood swing didn't really bother me. I didn't know her well enough, to know what she might be like on an ordinary day. It was after all a holiday weekend.

At four forty five, I packed everything onto my hand truck and rolled it to the scout. I placed the whole batch into the cargo area, covering it with a tarp to hide it. After locking the doors carefully, I looked for Janet's car. She almost ran me down as she pulled up beside me. I was surprised to find that she was driving a beautifully restored 1965 Ford Mustang Convertible. The car was dark blue with a white top, which she had folded down.

"It's going to be a little windy,'' I suggested.

"Then don't bring anything that will blow away.''

"Give me your key, so that I will put my bags in the trunk.'' Rather than speak the trunk magically opened. I put my half sized black canvas duffel bag into the trunk.

"Bring some more of those tapes. It's a four hour drive to the beach.'' she ordered.

Rather than answer, I pushed the tarp back and removed a six-pack from the box. I hoped she wouldn't really want to listen to the tapes all the way to the beach.

She forgot all about the tapes as we talked. Actually we almost screamed over the sound of the rushing wind. She finally stopped around six to put the top up. It got a little too chilly for a top down ride. It was easier to talk with the rag top in a closed position.

"So Ron, what kind of piece is this you are writing?''

"It's one of those, things to do on July fourth, kind of pieces.''

She simply nodded. Thanks to her rather heavy foot, we arrived at our small motel outside Southport shortly before nine. After tossing our bags into the room, we drove to the downtown. The streets had already been blocked off for the dance. We heard the band before we even parked the car.

We hiked the two blocks to the Town Square and park. The crowd was thick and about half drunk. I didn't mind either, but I noticed Janet's eyes dancing. "Are you all right?'' I asked concerned that she might be in a panic.

"I'm fine. I just get a little nervous in crowds. Just stay close and I will be fine.'' She stayed glued to me the remainder of the evening. I simply made observations as we moved through the crowd. Janet lightened up a little after she began to move about the crowd at my heels. In the end, she even asked me to dance. Even while I danced with her, I was making mental notes on the festivities.

I talked to a couple selling hot dogs for a while. Janet stayed close at my side. I went to the booth selling beer, even though I didn't like beer I bought one just to talk to the vender. I was busy making notes in my head, while he talked about his regular job as a shrimper. He and his wife ran the beer-vending booth, just this one time a year.

Janet and I wandered to the street set aside for arts and craft vendors. There were almost no tourists in the street. I could feel Janet relax as she left the crowded street. We stood before a young woman and her husband. While Janet fingered the jewelry, I asked about the day's events, which I had missed. The two of them gave me a full rundown on the boat parade and the games on the town square.

Janet and I stayed around until they closed the dance at midnight with a giant fireworks display. It was pretty and I was glad I had stayed. I forced Janet to stay until the crowd had gone. I wanted to see what the place looked like after all the tourists had left. As I had expected, the streets were littered with trash. I caught up with a street sweeper just as he began sweeping the street with a large push broom.

"So how many pounds of trash did the tourists leave this year?'' I asked.

"Looks like a ton or more,'' he said with a smile. "Don't mind though, they left about as much money, and they will be back tomorrow. The beach down there will be filled with either sunburned or white-bellied women. No offense ma'am.''

Janet shook her head. "Well I guess we will be heading to the motel. Anything going to be happening around here?'' I asked.

"Just a bunch of us going to Captain John's for breakfast. You know the town people who worked on this show.''

"I don't suppose they would let a couple of tourists in?''

"No, it's closed to tourists.''

"How about if I grab a broom and help you clean the street?''

"Why in the world would you want to do that?''

"I was born to sweep streets,'' I said as I picked a broom from the rear of the town's pickup truck.

"Well, I'm not just going to stand around watching,'' Janet said as she removed a broom. I was glad to see that she was back to normal.

The three of us made short work of the litter. We even moved to help one of the other sweepers on a different street. With all the litter in the rear of a one-ton truck, I asked. "So did we earn the right to go to breakfast with you guys?''

"Sure, I expect the city can pay for two more breakfasts.''

Captain John's was as I had expected a restaurant near the water. There was no ocean view, but the parking lot smelled strongly of the ocean at low tide. In other words it reeked.

I spent the ninety minutes engaging everyone I could in conversation. I learned a lot about the planning and logistics of the festival. I also learned about the next day's planned events.

When Janet and I arrived home we were both too beat to do anything except fall into bed, actually separate beds. I slept the sleep reserved for working men. It actually felt good.

When I awoke, it was to the smell of coffee. Janet had gone out to buy coffee and biscuits. She was kind enough to turn away while I dressed. After we went through the food, I realized that it was ten in the morning. I had slept about three hours longer than usual. I had also been awake four hours later than usual. I figured I was one hour behind in my sleeping.

"What's today's plan?'' Janet asked.

"I guess we go to the beach. I want to interview a few of the tourists and that's were they will be.''

"Then you go take your shower. I will dress out here.''

"Sounds like a first class plan to me,'' I replied as I moved toward the bathroom. I spent a long time in the shower. I wanted all the cobwebs gone before I headed to the beach.

I dressed in gym shorts and a white tee shirt before I exited the bathroom. I found Janet standing by the mirror working on her hair. I didn't have any idea why it was the first time I noticed her. I mean physically noticed her, but it was. Janet was tall and thin, probably somewhere near five eight or nine. She had slightly flared hips, but nothing really to brag about. In the mirror, I could see her small breasts inside the bathing suit top. They were small but well formed, with a slight bulge over the swimsuit. Her face was about the same as her sisters, pleasantly attractive. Her hair was a shade of chestnut, which probably was aided by a rinse, but it looked very good on her.

She glanced up into the mirror and saw me staring at her. "So what do you think?' she asked striking a pose for me.

"Well, you could use a few more pounds, but all in all not bad.''

"Not bad hell, men have fought over this body,'' she giggled.

"Yeah, well men have fought over a lot less too,'' I said with a smile.

"Ron, you can take the fun out of anything,'' she said with a smile.

"I do try. So how much longer you going to primp?''

"Damn you, I'm finished let's go talk to the tourists.'' Janet pulled on a terry cloth robe as we headed to her car. She found the beach without any help from me. I wasn't impressed since there were giant signs everywhere.

She lay on a beach towel in the sun, while I went from one tourist to another. I talked to tourists for a couple of hours, and then returned to find Janet in conversation with a man about her own age. I almost kept moving but thought to hell with it.

When I approached, I heard her say, "You have to leave now that's my boyfriend.''

The young man took one look at me then split. I sat down in the sand beside her towel. "Why did you tell him I was your boyfriend?''

"I just wanted to get rid of him. Besides for this weekend you are, at least kind of.''

"I'm your brother-in-law,'' I replied slightly bewildered.

"Ex-brother-in-law, and I have it on good authority that it no longer counts.''

"Really, who is the authority?''

"Ann Landers of course,'' she said with a bright smile.

"Well you have me there, she certainly has to be the final word on what is socially acceptable.''

"So, are we ready for lunch?'' Janet asked.

"I don't know about lunch, but I'm ready to get out of the sun.''

"How about a shrimp salad at Captain Tom's''

"Like I said, anything to get out of this bright sunshine.''

Captain Tom's had lost its intimate feeling. I expect, the hundred and fifty tourists crammed into a hundred-seat restaurant did it.

"Bad idea,'' Janet said with her eyes again dancing wildly.

"Good, I saw a McDonalds as we came in last night. Let's go there.'' I agreed.

Even the McDonalds was packed. "Remind me to ask one of the locals where they eat during the summer,'' I suggested.

"Do that, I don't think I can stand another crowd like this one.''

We ended up going through the drive-in window, and then taking the food to our room at the motel. We sat on the balcony and ate the greasy burgers.

"So how many more interviews do you need?'' Janet asked.

"I probably have enough, except for the Chief of Police or at least one of the police officials. We can probably catch someone after lunch. If all goes well, we will finish by two. You want to stick around for a while, or head home?''

"I would like to stay, if we can avoid the crowds,''

"Then we need to head up to Wrightsville. It will be crowded there too, but not as bad.''

"We will never find a room up there,'' she suggested.

"It is only a ninety minute drive. We can stay here and just spend the evening up there.''

"Okay, but I warn you. I plan to be home and in bed by eleven. Last night was too much for me.''

"Me too, I'm getting too old to stay up all night.''

I finished the interview within minutes of catching the captain of the day shift. I found him in his office on the top floor of the City Hall. City Hall was a white two-story colonial mansion converted to the offices. It was the classiest City Hall I had ever seen. I was informed that no one was really arrested at these festivals. Mostly it was, calm down an excited tourist. Maybe take a drunk back to his or her motel, but nothing more.

"Well, that's that. I am finally finished.'' I said when I returned to the car.

"Good, do we have to go to the beach again. I am really tired.''