A Most Unusual Girl Pt. 01

"Luke, that is one barn burner of a book, you did good. Don't think badly of me but I'm going to tell you how I know when a book is good. I get wet, and at my age it takes something special for me to get wet, my panties were more than a little moist when I finished. Poor Harvey, I jumped him the minute he got home last night, I think I wore the poor guy out, he went to bed right after supper."

It took me another six weeks to get it printed, sized and bound for sale. Mrs. Harrelson had the art teacher design a cheesy seductive cover and we were ready to roll. If you're willing to do what's necessary you can get a variety of websites to sell your wares, I chose three including Amazon. In less than two months I'd sold the first two hundred and fifty copies I'd printed, then I sold the next five hundred within a six-month period. When Mrs. Harrelson and I originally discussed a pen name she suggested I use a woman's name, something innocent and wholesome sounding. Over a cup of coffee and a piece of pie one noon we settled on Elli James.

The reviews were mostly positive, there will always be the trolls and complainers, but with a 4.93 out of five rating I tended to ignore them. By the time that book was about played out I was ready with my second, another panty dampener as Mrs. Harrelson called it. With her editing and her friend doing the art work things were working like a well oiled machine. In the first two years alone I had published sixteen books and had a ton of new ideas floating around my brain. I didn't make a mountain of money on any one book, but combined the income was substantial, I made the decision to buy mister Harrelson's equipment and rent the space from him. I also bought a sizing machine to slice the pages and a machine that would do the binding.

I was now self sufficient, financially and print wise. By the time I had thirty books to my credit mother was becoming ill and needed full time care. I did what I could, eventually turning to a nursing service and in the end a hospice care unit where she passed from this world to the next. During the time that I'd been writing books I'd hired and trained people to take care of the operation with nothing more than simple oversight from me. Mother and I had stopped running beef several years prior and had all the land leased out to other farmers. Living in that huge house by myself was not something I enjoyed, after another cold winter I decided to seek a warmer clime, I had since published nine more books and felt I didn't need to live locally to do more.

An old childhood friend lived in the panhandle of Florida and had invited me to spend a few weeks with him during January, which I gladly accepted. While there I looked at bayside properties reaching the conclusion that while they seldom had a hurricane, if they did, I sure didn't want to be on the water. I looked around the Pace area settling on a place I'd found in the northwest part of the metro area, a little place on two acres of land with the house situated about one hundred feet from the road in one corner of the lot. A modest four bedroom brick, two and a half baths, an outbuilding where I could put a work shop, a small inground pool and a completely fenced yard except for the very front of the property.

The house was dated and needed a fair amount of upgrading but it wasn't an issue, I still had to get things settled with the farm and properties. The year prior mister Harrelson wanted to begin publishing for others if I didn't mind, I told him as long as mine came first it would be no problem.

Harrelson House Publishing had in one year's time become the go to place for a number of unknown authors wanting their works published. For an extra fee he would have his wife proof read and edit. It had become lucrative enough that he sold the newspaper to the large conglomerate now printing the paper and expanded his printing business onto the main floor as well. While I was home getting things taken care of concerning selling the farm and land, I had builders renovating my house in Florida. I sold the farm in no time at all, moving to Florida four weeks later.

The road I live on is a dead end with a dozen or so families living on it. I'm not sure how but there is always trash strewn along the sides of the road, pieces of paper, cups, plastic bags, all of it clutter. From time to time the county Sherriff would have work details from jail walk along picking up that trash, it wasn't something they had to do, it was voluntary. I could see the road from the window in my breakfast nook, each morning I watched an older black lady, probably late fifties, walk with a pair of little girls around five and seven to the local bus stop. They had been riding their bikes with the lady following but I didn't see them doing that for a few weeks.

After the bus picked up the kids I walked to the end of my driveway and greeted the lady as she walked home. She was grandma to the little girls, mom was in jail finishing out a seven month sentence, the reason they hadn't been riding their bikes is the tires were out of air. I offered to look at them if she didn't mind, that afternoon I drove my lawn tractor with a small trailer down to her house, took the bikes home and fixed them. Each had a leak, I patched the innertubes, put air in the tires and had them ready by the mailbox when the girls came home from school.

Grandma was thankful, the girls were ecstatic, smiles, laughter and what would little girls be without squeals of delight. That evening I was on the front porch watching life float by when I saw them walking down the road, they'd made cookies for me. I asked if gramma would like a coffee and if some milk to go with the cookies was okay for the girls. Five minutes later we adults were slurping our coffee while the girls dunked and ate cookies. Grams name was Sydney, most folks called her Syd, which is what I began calling her. Thus, began a relationship between two little girls, an older lady and a man in his early thirties.

The next afternoon as they made their way home from the bus I asked Syd if the girls might like a dip in the pool since it had been such a warm spring day. I suggested they come after supper, at six o'clock they arrived in their little suits and silly animal type inflatable tubes. Syd was in a one piece that flattered her, I still wasn't sure what her age was, but she wore it well. She was not toned but not flabby either, breasts that fit her body, probably a 34 B or C, a thin waist that flared into sexy adult woman type hips, the kind you only find on a mature woman. There appeared to be a minimum of droop to her breasts, but at her age I think that's normal.

I gestured to a lounge chair as the girls waded in the shallow end, when I offered a cold beverage she asked if I had a beer. Sure enough, we enjoyed a beer watching the girls play. I sensed she wanted to talk so I remained quiet and let the moment arrive on its own.

"Their mama is a good girl, got mixed up with some white trash and damn near ruined her life. That's why the girls are mixed race, he never did marry her. Those girls are the only positive thing that ever came from those two being together. She met him at tech school, she has a degree in graphic arts you know, even had a good job until that son of a bitch got her hooked on drugs. I'd like to kill that bastard."

I glanced her way and then asked the sixty four thousand dollar question.

"I believe you told me she was in jail. How much longer does she have before she's released?"

"She'll be out in five weeks and two days. I'm from Mississippi but I'll need to stay with her for a while until she gets a job, if I go home right away, they'll take the girls. You're probably wondering how she got into this mess. Like I said, she met him at school, they dated, she wound up pregnant, she graduated, got a job, had little Trina and life was pretty good. He had graduated and was working as a diesel mechanic when she got pregnant with Tracy, shortly before she was born the wheels fell off the cart. He started dabbling in drugs."

I had to ask, "Well, was she doing drugs while she was pregnant? That isn't good is it?"

"Nope, not while she was pregnant, but right after. It had been a difficult birth, Jo was in a lot of discomfort, he gave her some drugs and it went into the toilet from there. She promised she'd quit time and again until finally their apartment was busted, he'd been selling and distributing. Thankfully she was clean at that time, but she was still an accessory to the crime, the apartment was in her name. It was his third strike, her first, he got three years and she got seven months."

"Well Syd, if I can be of help now and after she gets out please let me know. I'm by no means filthy rich but if there's anything you or the girls need tell me and I'll do what I can."

The girls swam while we finished our beer, by then it was time to get them home, bathed and into bed.

I walked with them in the dark just because it was the right thing to do. At the driveway I asked, "Why don't I ever see you driving your car?"

"Taint mine to start with, it's Jo's and it don't run, I expect we'll have to see what the problem is when she gets home. Thanks for walking with us, you have a good night."

Two days later I was alarmed as I looked out the window toward the road. Along the front of my yard are sprinkler heads for irrigation, when they turned on at seven, I noticed two of them were spilling water out of the ground and not sprinkling as they should. Upon closer inspection I determined some idiot had turned around in my yard overnight and broke two of the heads when they'd driven over them. It wasn't the first time that had happened, which meant I had a few extras in the workshop, they were cheap, and it kept me from running to Home Cheapo every time I needed one. I was digging around the head with a small spade when I noticed a cleaning crew in striped prison garb making their way down the street, this time it was all women, six to be exact.

A female Deputy Sherriff on a horse followed closely behind them. When they got closer, I watched as a small framed taller black woman walked to the horse and began talking to the deputy while pointing at me. Moments later the deputy and woman were walking to me stopping approximately five feet away. The deputy spoke first.

"This lady is Joann and she'd like to ask a question, is that alright with you?" I nodded affirmatively.

With a pensive look on her face she spoke up, "Are you mister Luke? My little girls are at the end of the road, I think you fixed their bikes and let them swim in your pool."

"Yes, I'm Luke and yes, I fixed their bikes, am I safe in assuming you're their mother?"

"Yes sir I am, got five weeks left and then I'll be home. I'd like to make you a meal or something for being so nice to my mom and girls. They sure do appreciate you."

Joann picked up her bag and mechanical extended fingers she used to pick up trash with and headed down the road with the other gals. The deputy followed, said something to one of the older women then turned and rode back to me.

"Joann is a nice girl, got tangled up with some white trailer trash, I'm pretty sure she's learned her lesson, I know she doesn't want to lose her girls. So, mister Luke, what brings you to Florida, with that accent you sure aint from the south."

"You have me dead to rights on that assumption. I'm a transplant from the cold country, after mother died, I sold the farm and moved here."

"No wife huh? I don't see anything that tells me a female lives here."

"Right again deputy, no wife, tried it once, she decided she wanted someone else more than me. I'd like to find someone it just hasn't happened yet. How about you, you're pretty and I'm a sucker for a woman carrying a gun."

"Sorry Luke, been with the same guy fourteen years, not looking for anyone else. What is it you do for a living?"

"I'm a writer, I write novels."

"No shit. I read a lot in the evening if I'm not working, but mine are mostly romance novels. Ever heard of Elli James? I read everything she writes, so far I've read thirty seven of her novels, I think she has somewhere around forty four or five."

"Matter of fact, I'm very familiar with Elli James work, and it's forty six to date. I've read all forty six."

She looked excited, "Well I'll be. A guy who reads Elli James, you know she saved my marriage. We were slipping apart when I first started reading her novels, but after reading two of her books I realized she knew a lot about men and their perspective when it comes to romance and passion. I began applying some of those things in my marriage and it turned the whole thing around. If I ever meet her, I'm going to thank her."

I pondered my response for a good half minute before I spoke to her. "You just did."

She looked at me oddly, "I just did what?"

"You just thanked her."

She sat astride that horse saying nothing, staring holes through me, then leaned toward me and said, "bullshit, you aren't Elli James."

"If I am will you keep it to yourself, less than ten people know who the real Elli James is. Remember you're an officer of the law."

I then began rattling off title after title until she put her hand over her mouth and muttered, "Oh my God, you are."

By that time the crew was almost back to us, she smiled, told me mum was the word and joined the ladies on the other side of the street. That Sunday afternoon a pickup pulled into my driveway, stopped, and two people got out. It was the deputy, and as it turned out, her husband. They brought a six-pack, she wanted the entire story if I was willing to tell them, with a promise they'd tell no one. An hour and a half later they rose, shook my hand and made their way to the truck. I joked they should stop by again, they took it seriously and asked when I'd like them to visit. I got his phone number and said I'd text.

I contacted a towing service on Monday asking them to pick up a red Honda Civic at Syd's address on Tuesday. I wanted it delivered to the garage on Maple Ave for repairs. After lunch I strolled to Syd and Joann's, cajoled the car keys from her after twenty minutes of bantering back and forth and me finally asking why she would rob me of being a blessing to them. I knew that would stop her in her tracks, an old Pentecostal will never argue when you present it that way. I'd learned that from my grandma and never thought I'd ever put it into practice until then.

I drove to Martin's Garage and told the manager a tow truck would be dropping off the Civic the next day. I wanted it gone through from bumper to bumper, call me with the results and an estimate for any and all repairs needed. When I told him I wanted it safe enough for children, he nodded, saying her had three little ones of his own. The tow truck stopped at my house the next morning, got the keys, I paid him the towing fee and he was on his way to get the car.

Three days later the guy from the shop called asking if I could stop by. The reason it didn't start is that the main ignition module had failed. It needed new struts and the right CV joint was bad, he suggested changing both at the same time. The brakes were in sad repair, he suggested new rotors as well as pads, saying the calipers were in good shape. The hundred thousand mile tune up had never been done and with almost two hundred thousand on the engine the possibility of the timing belt breaking was very real.

"Does it need tires as well?" I asked.

"They're okay for now but in six months I'd recommend replacing them. That would be another $480 if you want to stay with Kuhmo tires."

The total with new tires was a bit over three thousand, I told him to do it, he reckoned he could get parts in yet that week and would start on it first of the next week. He thanked me and told me he'd throw in an oil change at no additional cost. When I saw Syd and the girls coming from the bus stop, the girls on their bikes, I waved them down.

Syd motioned the girls on, "You girls go on and ride, me and mister Luke need to talk without your nosey little ears around."

I told her what all they'd found and that it should be ready by the end of the next week.

"I know you wanna bless us, but this too much Luke, I'll find a way to pay you back."

"Now Syd, you being an old Pentecostal Christian woman you know very well if I let you pay me back I lose the blessing. This is something my mama would have said was the right thing to do, so there won't be any paying me back. Someday you'll do the same for somebody and it'll all even out."

The car was finished ahead of schedule and less than the estimate, by over three hundred dollars. After walking the girls to the bus stop Sydney rode with me to the shop, the keys were handed to her and away she drove. I settled the bill, thanked them profusely and prepared to leave, Steve, the manager caught me at the door thanking me for trusting them to do the work and anytime in the future that I needed service to make sure I called him. The beginning of another friendship.

The weeks following went quickly, I was working on my next novel named The Aristocrat, based on an incident that happened to me in Chicago when the business was young and I did my own deliveries to the Midwest. I'd met an older lady in a lounge, she had a heavy Irish or Scottish lilt to her speech, but I wasn't sure which at the time. When I asked the bartender if he knew who she was he told me she was a recently widowed Duchess somebody. I asked how recently, he replied about ten months. For the purpose of this story I'll tell you we ended up in her hotel room rolling around in bed a good portion of the next two days. I was near that juncture in my novel and was excited as to how I was going to put my thoughts on paper.

Two weeks before Joann was to be released Syd asked if I would take she and the girls to the Sunday afternoon visiting time so Joann could see her girls, with the car broken she hadn't seen them for weeks. When I mentioned the fact that she now had reliable transportation I saw her grimace.

"I know we live in a new age and all that junk, but this old black lady can remember when we didn't. To be honest, and I have no reason to think this way anymore, I'm scared of the police, and me being in that jail with the girls by myself scares the hell outa me. Will you please go with us?"

Since only family was allowed for Sunday afternoon visits, I stayed in the lobby with my laptop, writing more of my novel. It was coming together nicely, especially now that I was writing the sex scenes. I prided myself on being able to relate intimacy without it being vulgar, meaning that I could market it as a romance novel and not porn. With my head in the story and my fingers moving in a blur across the keypad I was startled by a female voice.

"Mr. Luke. What on earth are you doing at the city jail on a Sunday afternoon?" It was the female deputy who'd been on the horse.

"Oh, hi Miriam, I brought Joann's mom and girls to visit, she was afraid to come by herself, said she was afraid of the police."

"Yeah, I can understand that, being black in Mississippi has never been a picnic, given her age I suspect her early years weren't very pleasant. What are you working on, your next novel?"

"As a matter of fact, I am. It will be titled the Aristocrat, based on a two-day interlude I had with an older lady from Scotland many years ago."

"I call bullshit Luke, you aren't writing about yourself. You're making this up."

"Well Miriam you can call anything you like, it's the truth, there are areas where it's embellished but the initial format is absolutely true. By the way, do you have copies of 38 through 40 yet?"

"I just bought thirty-eight, boy you didn't waste any time getting into the hot and heavy stuff did you? My poor husband must have thought he married a hooker when he got home. I did what the wife in the novel did, I put on a garter belt, seamed stockings, a transparent red baby doll with nothing on underneath and red CFM heels. He had his utility belt and weapon in the lock box quicker than a lightning strike. Damn if we didn't have a good time thanks in part to your book, like I said, those books saved our marriage."