If It Walks Like a Duck

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Standing up for what's right proves who he really is.
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Scorpio44a
Scorpio44a
2,151 Followers

[If you want to read a sex story, move on. All the sex in this story is in the last two lines. They are best if read after you read all the other lines. This is what some call a social story. Maybe it could be called a parable. For lawyers reading this, remember this is a fantasy and it takes place in rural America. Remember, John Grisham didn't write it.]

*

"Maybe there's nothing I can do about it."

"You believe what you just said?" My Dad looked over at me. He looked back at the long road in front of us. I had been talking to him about the trouble I was having in school. Paul Garrett was a year ahead of me and seemed to be the star of the whole school. That would be Ok except he was blaming me for something I was sure he did. He said he saw me pour dye in the school swimming pool. When it happened I was walking home from school.

We live three miles outside town. No one saw me walking home. I had no alibi. Dad had been called and told about what I had done before I even got home. I walked into the kitchen and he was sitting at the table with Mom. They looked up at me and asked what I had done after school.

"I dropped the books at the library and walked home."

"Go anywhere else?" He asked.

"I stopped ay Mr. White's farm and watered a tree, Sir."

"The principal of the school, Mr. Morgan, called and said you were seen pouring dye into the swimming pool."

"It wasn't me, Sir."

"I believe you. He says you're guilty. We have to both go to school in the morning and have a meeting with Mr. Morgan. I don't want to go. Can you straighten this out without me?"

"I can speak to Mr. Morgan myself, but I think it comes down to my word over whoever said I did it."

"Then you go and you tell him I believe you had nothing to do with what happened."

"Yes, Sir."

He was called by Mr. Morgan when I walked in without him. Mr. Morgan is used to being obeyed. He didn't even speak to me. He pointed to a chair and I sat. He picked up his phone and dialed my Dad. He got Mom. Dad was on our tractor and half a mile from the house.

"Mrs. Peterson, this is Mr. Morgan. When I spoke to your husband yesterday I told him to come to school with Nick this morning. He came to my office alone."

I didn't hear what Mom said but I watched Mr. Morgan's face get redder and he said, "Then I have no choice. Nick is suspended until the end of the quarter and until your family pays to have the pool cleaned." He hung up.

He sat quite still for almost a minute, looked at me and asked, "Why the hell are you still sitting there? Get off my campus!"

"No, hearing? You don't want my side of what happened? I'm automatically guilty?"

"Who should I believe, you or Paul Garrett? What basis would I have to believe you over him?"

"You have two daughters don't you?"

"You know I do."

"If you walk into the kitchen and see milk on the floor and you ask Kathleen how it got there and she says Karen did it, will you ask Karen or is she guilty?"

"Neither of my girls would leave a spill. Now, get out. I've wasted enough time on you. I'll call your parents when I get a quote on cleaning the pool."

I walked home and went to work. On our farm there is always work to be done. When Dad came in for lunch he saw me shoveling manure from the stalls in the barn.

"Come have lunch."

We ate and he asked about the meeting. Mom told him about the phone call. I told him what I saw and heard. After lunch he said he needed to drive to Bridgeport and get something for the tractor. He invited me to go.

An invitation from my Dad is a lot like hearing God say, "Would you like to do this for me?" It would not be wise to say "No thanks."

On that ride I made the statement that got his reaction. "Maybe there's nothing I can do about it."

"You believe what you just said?" My Dad looked over at me. He looked back at the long road in front of us.

"No. I just don't see what I can do. Paul is the football star, the best point guard the school has ever had and it looks like he'll get a scholarship to a big school somewhere. I'm not sure Mr. Morgan even knew who I was before yesterday."

"So, you give up?" He said the words with no emotion. Giving up was something my Dad never did.

"What can I do?"

"Find a way. I won't solve the problem for you. You need to finish your education. You need to be cleared of the charges. I'm not paying to clean the pool. You are not going to give up. Do your research, find a way."

I was quiet all the way to Bridgeport and back. When we got home I went back into the barn and shoveled more shit. At dinner time Mom rang the triangle and we washed. At dinner we talked about farming. The school and the pool were my problem.

At a little after seven the phone rang. Dad answered and held the phone out to me. It was Fran. "I heard you got tossed out of school."

"I heard the same thing."

"Guess who thinks it's the funniest thing he's ever heard?"

"Paul."

"Yeah! I heard his girl-friend Janice tell two of her friends in the girl's locker room that he laughed when he heard they booted you out."

"She say anything else?"

"Yes! She said he did it and framed you. He framed you because you made him look bad in Algebra two."

"Because I got a better score on the mid-term?"

"Being the star is his thing."

"I have an idea. You willing to help me?"

"Sure. What can I do?"

"It may be distasteful but I need you to tape him or his friends telling you that he did it. Then I can use the recording to show I didn't do it."

"Ok, if I can. Oh, I found out a deep dark secret. Did you know the Mr. Morgan is the uncle of Paul's Mom?"

"Oh? How did that secret come to you?"

I was delivering attendance to the office this morning and his secretary answered the phone. She turned to him and said, "It's Mrs. Garrett." He picked up the phone and asked her, "How's my favorite niece?" I did some checking with the paper and her maiden name was Morgan. The wedding announcement listed him as attending the wedding."

"Thanks. That will help too. Can you get me the assignments from my classes for the next two weeks?"

"I can, but why? You're out. Mr. Morgan didn't suspend you, you're gone."

"Not so. He said I was out until I paid to have the pool cleaned and until the end of the quarter. I want to have all my assignments ready to turn in when I come back."

"Ok. I'll get the assignments from other people in your classes. How much will cleaning the pool cost?"

"Whatever it costs, we won't pay it. I didn't dye the pool."

"I believe you, but I don't count."

"Yes you do. You count for a lot! And, thanks for helping me."

I went out to the barn and forked hay for the animals while I thought. I thought about how to get Paul to be the one who got the blame for the dye, and how to pay him back for blaming me.

The next day I was up at four-thirty and out taking care of our animals. They were into the routine of me getting to them before I left for school, so the reality of my not going to school didn't matter to them. They expected me by five in the morning, every morning. By seven they were all ready; eggs collected, cows milked and put out to pasture, horse brushed and given fresh hay and oats. I opened the doors at both ends of the barn and let the morning breeze freshen the air and cool off the barn interior. I ate breakfast and asked Dad what he wanted me to do.

"Make believe this is your farm. Look around. See what needs doing and do it. I'll be sitting on the tractor for the whole day. The section over by Wilbert's fence needs breaking up. If you need me, ride Blizzard out to me." He smiled as he said our horse's name. She was the biggest, blackest, Dutch Heavy Draft mare in the county. Twenty-two hundred pounds of muscle, on the hoof. Dad named her Blizzard after plenty of people at the auction suggested names like Blacky, Midnight or Pepper.

Mom had made lunches for both of us, not knowing how close we would be to the house. I knew what needed to be done. If it was my farm I'd be the one on the tractor and since my hand was doing that I was freed up to clean up the irrigation ditch. I got Blizzard and the special weed burner she would pull and we headed for the ditch. The weed burner was a contraption we built that rode on two metal wheels. The wheels rode along the top edge of the ditch while the center bowed deep into the dry ditch. There were ten nozzles between the wheels and a safe distance from the propane tank that fed the nozzles. Once it was lit it would burn all the weeds in the ditch in one day. It used to take three days when we used a plow and then had to harvest all the cut weeds. It was hot, noisy and dirty work but when we opened the flow of water on our day it would flow clear and smooth.

In late afternoon, Blizzard and I headed back to the barn. We parked the burner near the end of the ditch, unhitched Blizzard and I climbed aboard. At eighteen hands she was a magnificent creature and we loved being together. As soon as I was aboard she set off, but not for home. She headed for the pond.

Dad and I built a pond the year I was in seventh grade. It was a watering hole for migrating birds, he said. It also served as a watering hole for all kinds of other animals and Dad got pictures of a lot of them. He put signs and things near the edge of the pond so when he showed someone a picture, they knew where the picture came from.

On warm days when we had worked hard and gotten dirty Blizzard loved to wade into the pond so she was standing in the water with her back wet. That made the water about seven feet deep. The first time Mom saw us wade in she laughed. Blizzard's neck and head and me from the waist up showed. The rest of us was under water.

As we started back to the barn, dripping gallons of water as Blizzard walked it hit me, "Where could Paul have gotten enough dye to color the pool?"

I took care of Blizzard then visited Mom in her garden. "Mom, let's say you wanted to dye all the sheets, curtains and clothes in our family. Where would you get the dye?"

"Crawfords!" She stood up, smiled as she said it and went back to work. I looked at my watch and calculated some things. I had over an hour until my friends would be out of school. I got down on my knees and pulled weeds with Mom for that hour.

When I spoke to Fran I had her call anyone she was sure wasn't one of Paul's friends and have them meet us at the covered bridge. I told Mom what was up and that I'd probably miss dinner. She told me to check the oven when I got back.

It would have been faster and easier to ride Blizzard but it would also have been obvious. She doesn't hide well. So I ran and walked to the bridge. I got there first. I climbed up into the rafters and waited. Kids arrived and gathered in the shade. When twenty-five or so were there I came down.

"I need your help. You all know I was sent home from school, not to return this quarter and not to return until I pay to clean the pool."

"But, you didn't do it!" Josh Reynolds said.

"You're right. What I need to do is prove that. There's only one place in the county where he could get enough dye to color the pool, Crawford's." They use that new computer scanner for everything. Whoever bought the dye left a paper trail."

"Mr. Crawford won't help us. He's afraid of the Garretts."

"He won't, but maybe someone who works for him might." Fran said.

"Who?"

"His wife! My Mom told me Mrs. Crawford believes Mr. Garrett is having an affair."

"Could one of you talk to her?"

Bob asked, "What would I say to her? I live next door and we talk almost every day, but not about this kind of thing." "Next time you talk, mention that it must have taken a lot of dye to color the pool. Maybe the chemistry teacher would assign students to find out how much dye it would take."

"That'll get her curious who bought all that dye. Good idea."

"One of you others can go into the office and ask how many gallons of water the pool holds. Someone else can ask the chemistry teacher how to calculate how much dye it would take to turn the water the color it is. If we spread the questions around they might not get what's happening until we have some proof I didn't do it."

Plans and methods of getting the information back to me were settled and the group went home. The phone rang five minutes after I got home.

"Is this Nick?" A voice I didn't recognize asked.

"This is Nick."

"You best have a good alibi for this Friday night. Someone is planning another prank and they plan to blame you."

"What do they plan to do?"

"I don't know. I just heard they plan to pin it on you."

"Thanks." Before I could say or ask anything more, the line went dead.

Dad looked over at me. "I've just been warned that a prank is going to be blamed on me Friday night. I'll need an alibi."

"Saying you're here with us isn't good enough. What will you do?"

He wasn't going to help. This was my problem, my solution.

"I don't know, but I will by Friday night."

My friend Alan loves photography. He lives on a farm about four miles north of town and he rides to school on a horse too. We became friends the year I started riding Blizzard to school. Second grade. I rode the scenic route and met him on his way home from school Thursday. While Blizzard and Spot got reacquainted (Spot is an Appy) I handed Alan ten dollars.

"What's this for?"

"Buy fast, high contrast film and take pictures of Paul Garrett from the time school lets out tomorrow until he is home in bed." I explained what was happening and he said he was on the case. He had thoughts of becoming a photographer for the police of a big city. This was just practice for him. I turned Blizzard for home before Alan started talking lenses and f-stops.

At four-thirty the next morning I was up and in the barn. At seven we had breakfast. Dad asked, "What are you doing tonight?"

"I'm going over to the sheriff's office in Bridgeport and I'm spending the night. Before I fall into the gutter on Main Street I'll drink a beer and spill a little on me. They'll take one whiff and toss me in the tank for the night. Tomorrow they'll want my name for the records and I'll have proof of where I was."

"Good plan. May I offer a suggestion?"

"Sure."

"There's a livestock auction in Lincoln Saturday morning. If you and I are seen in the barbershop Friday afternoon and we buy something at the auction Saturday morning there's only one way that could happen. We had to drive all night to get there."

"If you buy something, it proves you were there."

"If you buy something, you had to be there. I think we need a new sow. A young one. She can ride home in the back of the truck if we put the stake sides on."

"I like your idea better than mine. Thanks."

"Your idea would probably work. Mine gets us a new sow and keeps you from drinking a beer. Your Momma doesn't much like beer drinkers."

Friday at three we went into the barbershop in town. Mr. Carstairs was in the chair. He's the mayor. Carl Smith was next, he owns the bowling alley. We talked about sports, crops and the weather. No one mentioned school. They knew I was not in school. When Dad got in the chair Socks asked why were getting haircuts.

"When my wife hands me money and says it's you or the sheep shears, we get in the truck. You want a better answer than that? Ask her."

The conversation went to the latest on if our Congressman was having an affair with a woman on the City Council or not. Socks said he believed the rumors. They call him Socks because his name is Frank Argyle. Dad says it started when they played high school baseball.

We left the barbershop at four-thirty. Dad asked Socks if he was sure his clock was right. He compared it to his watch and the watch of the two other men in the shop. They all agreed, it was four-thirty. We headed north and picked up my Uncle in Winner, South Dakota.

We drove all night and had breakfast in Lincoln Nebraska. Dad kept the receipt from the Denny's. It showed what time we ordered and what we had for breakfast. He handed me a credit card to pay for breakfast. It had my name on it. I got the message. He was helping me prove where I was all night.

The auction started at nine. By nine forty five I had bought a nice two month old China-Poland sow. My Uncle bought her sister. By ten thirty we were back on the road. I drove half way while Dad slept and then he drove and I slept. It was twelve thirty when I unloaded the sow into our barn. Twelve thirty at night.

Mom was sitting in the kitchen with a warm pie, ice cream and the latest news.

Seems that the sheriff had been by looking for me. Mom told him I was with my Dad on an errand. She wasn't sure when we would be back. She asked why he was looking for me. Someone had painted slurs on the side of Crawford's market and the witnesses said it was you.

Dad smiled. He picked up the phone and called the sheriff.

"Sheriff, this is Lee Peterson. My wife tells me you're looking for Nick. We just got home. You can come by now or wait till morning. If you say you're coming we'll wait up, otherwise were going to bed. Got to get up at four thirty."

We went to bed. Three hours later I was up and taking care of animals. I saw how Mom did the job while we were gone. She did fine, just not quite how I do it. I took a few extra minutes with the new sow. At seven we had breakfast. At seven-thirty we heard tires outside the back door. Mom let the sheriff in, offered him coffee, eggs and toast. He said no, and ate everything she gave him.

"Friday night a vandal painted the side of Crawford's. Two witnesses came to me and said Nick is the one who did it."

Dad took another bite of eggs and chewed. He washed it down with coffee. "You believe them?"

"I have to check it out."

"Who were the witnesses?"

"I can't tell you that."

"It will tell me who lies in this town. Nick has been within ten feet of me since three Friday afternoon. I can and will prove it in court, if need be, but we will be standing in front of the liars who say Nick did this."

"You know I can't tell you who told me."

"Then arrest Nick and call the judge. He will not speak until we are in court. Those witnesses lied to you, sheriff. When we prove it, what happens to them?"

"Filing a false police report. A misdemeanor."

"Did they use spray cans or a brush?"

"Spray cans."

"I'll bet they bought them from Crawfords. I'll also bet the dye in the pool was bought there. As they say on television, follow the money."

The sheriff had finished his breakfast. He stood. I stood. He looked at me and I said, "I don't want to wear handcuffs. I'll ride in the back and I promise not to attempt an escape."

"I don't want to take you in."

"Then what about the report that I'm a vandal?"

"I'll do some more investigation. I'll go to Crawford's and look at their records."

"I'll stay here." I sat back down.

An hour later Mom rang the triangle. I headed back to the house. Fran was sitting on our back porch with Mom. Mom had her arm around Fran's shoulders. When she looked up I wanted to cry. Her eyes were both swollen almost closed. Her nose was smashed and from her upper lip to her hairline she was black and blue.

She stood and I held her while she cried. I looked at Mom and she put a finger to her lips, telling me to stay quiet. Mom went back in the house and when she came back she had crushed ice wrapped in a towel. We sat Fran back down and gave her the ice.

She held it to her face and continued to cry. Mom sat on one side and I sat on the other. Eventually she pulled the wet, cold towel away and said, "Guess who Paul said helped you paint the swastika on Crawford's."

"That doesn't explain the bruises."

"When the sheriff came to our house, I wasn't there. By the time I got home my Dad was mad and drunk. He said I shamed the whole family. As soon as he passed out I left. I hid in Alan's barn then over in the grove before I came here."

Scorpio44a
Scorpio44a
2,151 Followers
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