Mysterywriter's Final Spring

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With the grunt work done, I tried to write. It was a total waste of my time. I just couldn't seem to find much interest in the larger than life heroes or the buxom women who occupied their time. Okay, maybe the women I could find an interest in, but definitely not the writing. I had lost any desire to create more trash, but not the desire to profit from it. If the last festival was any indication of things to come, it might just prove to be an interesting summer.

Even though there wasn't much sightseeing to do I wandered around the small towns near the park. Usually I just asked a waitress or convenience store clerk if there was anything of interest around town. I got a lot of local museum suggestions but one of them was more than enough. That first day was a waste, except that I found a copy shop to make the labels for the CD replacements.

By Friday I was more than ready to move on to the next show. It took a long half day's drive to reach the only slightly larger town. It was interesting to note that the show was not in the downtown, but rather in a field just outside of town. The good thing about the lousy location was that it was adjacent to the farmer's market. The market drew customers from the whole county even some from a much larger towns nearby.

Since the farmer's market opened in what seemed like the middle of the night to a city boy, they allowed the vendors to sleep in the parking lot. I was able to rearrange my junk. By storing less valuable items on the roof I could roll out on the pads and in the sleeping bag. It was cramped but doable.

Next day when I set up the booth, I found that I was near a very happily married middle-aged women and a man selling leather products. It was going to be a boring show, but then the first show had most likely been a fluke. No one stopped for the first three hours. The little old ladies being escorted by slightly younger little old ladies had no use for the action adventure novels. Most of them wore heavy glasses I doubted that they read at all, but still my audio didn't interest them.

It was approaching noon when the customers I had been promised by the leather worker arrived. The yuppies came in droves from 10am until early afternoon. I sold out of one title probably because the cover promised sex along with the violence. There were about fifty words of a sexual nature among the hundred thousand word novel. I feared they would be disappointed but I didn't explain it to them.

I had given up on finding anyone to help pass the time when the middle-aged almost midget wandered by. I looked and she caught me of course. It was one of the perils of being a dirty old man. Instead of looking away in disgust, she changed her direction to approach my table.

"You write these," She asked in a heavily accented voice.

I tried to match her accent as I replied, "Yes Ma'am."

"My son's a truck driver, you think he might like these?"

"Hard to say ma'am, I like them though." I smiled to let her know it was joke. "So tell me when did they begin allowing teenagers to drive trucks?"

"What do you mean?" She was almost angry it seemed.

"I can't believe you are old enough to have grown son, so they must be letting teenagers drive those big rigs. That means I have to be a damn sight more careful out there."

"My son is twenty-three," she said angrily and stormed off. I stood watching her walk away almost in shock.

The husband and wife in the next booth heard the exchange and laughed. Their laughter just added to my discomfort. Fortunately in the festival atmosphere it isn't long before someone comes along to stroke your ego. The someone turned out to be a woman in her thirties, at least. We talked until her husband joined her. She told him that she wanted to buy a CD so he paid for one. They bought a single novella but it did have the web address to order more. I laughed at the thought. If they did order, I wondered if there would be anyone to ship it. I was sure there would be someone around to cash the check.

The whole festival went just like that. A promise of companionship but no fulfillment. It went into the book as a fun experience simply because the face to face contact with my buyers. I had sold hell of a lot more at the two festivals than I had on Ebay. I would have bet it was something to do with me being present at the sale. I signed copies whenever asked. The CDs were packaged in what looked like a book but was no more than parchment card stock folded onto itself to make the cover with plastic sleeves inside to hold the CDs.

After closing the booth that first day, I began searching for the county campground listed in the AAA book. The book promised a list all campground public and private so I bought it. Not only did it list them but it also had directions to them. The problem seemed to be that some of the campgrounds had very small signs. I was searching for the camping area run by the county where the festival was being held. Unfortunately it was a large county with a great many newly named roads. With all the confusion, I arrived at the park after the office closed. The note on the door said, 'Just find an empty space the ranger would be around to collect'.

I doubted they would be able to collect from me, since I would be gone before sunup. As usual I was wrong, the ranger arrived at the site while I was unloading enough boxes to make room for me to sleep. Most of the plastic boxes were stackable. Designed so that I could put one on top of another thereby making room to stretch out. However the tables were just too much. those I put on top of the van covered with one of those ugly blue plastic tarps. I had almost all the renovations done when the green pick up pulled up behind me. Even in the almost total darkness I saw the seal on the door.

"Hello there," I said as she approached.

"Hello, you getting a late start setting up?" The woman was almost my age if not more. The dark was kind to her but the lantern she carried was not. I would never be sure of her exact age but she was definitely no kid.

"Yeah, just closed up the festival in Warsaw," I replied.

"Oh yeah, what you selling?" She seemed only about half interested.

"Books," I replied with a smile to ease the abruptness of the short answer.

"Oh you a writer?"

"Of sorts, and an actor too. I make and sell audio books."

"You gonna be leaving early or are you staying a while?" She asked it looking at my self contained operation.

"Crack of dawn it's breakfast then back to the show. The are opening it early for a Sunday."

"I'm surprised you took everything down?" It was a question and I knew it.

"The promoter said to strip it clean nobody was providing any security. Seems some shows do and some don't. This is one of the don't."

"Do you do many?" She was way past the point of official duties.

"This is just my second one. I am still a FNG."

"Geeze, last time I heard that out loud was from my brother when he got back."

"Sure as hell don't hear it much these days, that is for sure."

"Since we are mostly empty, and since you are leaving at the crack of dawn, I will just forget the fee this time. But why don't you come back and see us."

"In that case hold on." From the box of CDs I removed one at random. "Something to keep you awake."

"Well I need something, I'm gonna be up all night checking campers."

"I would think they would all be tucked safely in their beds by now."

"Most are but we have a few partiers. We had a rape here last summer, so we kind of keep a tight lid on things now."

At the word rape my eyes bulged, I was glad that she hadn't seen it. Drop it, I told myself. You are double retired. You don't need to even be thinking about that.

"I can certainly understand," I said aloud.

"If you see me before I leave, let me know what you think of the CD."

"I will make it a point to look for you. Hey, tell you what, I will be your wake up service. What time to you have to be up?"

"I had thought about six. So that I can get a bite and have time to set up before nine. What time do you finish up here?"

"Not till about seven thirty."

"Ah well there goes your free breakfast. I will have to be pretty near the festival by that time."

"Yeah, always my luck. Well next year then?" It was a very nice comment for her to make.

"Sure, next year in Jerusalem," I said with a smile.

"You don't look Jewish."

"I'm not just a gentile smart ass."

"Good, I love a smart ass. See you at six." She got back in her green pickup, then drove away.

It was cramped in the mini van but I fell gratefully asleep. I slept hard until I heard the ranger's flashlight banging on my window. I looked at my watch in the glow from her light. Of course I couldn't see a thing except the blur. I found my glasses on the stack of boxes beside me. It was 6am exactly as I has requested.

"Hey there ranger," I said it as I opened the door still inside the bag.

"Your wake up call writer. Before I get side tracked, I loved your book. It is really exciting and fast moving. I recognized your voice and that was fun too."

"I do love a fan," I said it with a grin I doubted she saw.

"Well I am a fan. I might come over to Warsaw to see you. Good, bring your cash cause I don't take American Express."

"What time do you close?"

"I think they said six since it is Sunday."

"Then I will try to time it right. I can't keep missing that free meal. I can trade that breakfast for dinner?"

"Sure but you are going to have to pick the place."

I managed to brush my teeth and put on a clean shirt before I left for the day. Showering then walking back to the van in the chilly spring air was out of the question for me. When I turned the switch on the van, nothing happened. Well it did make the grinding starter sound but it wouldn't fire. I got out and bled the fuel injector system, then it started. I made yet another note in my head to buy the right gas lines for the van.

It was cloudy and threatening to rain all day. A few drops even fell, but not enough to ruin my stock. I replaced the lids on the plastic storage boxes at the first sign of rain. I also kept the tarp handy just in case I needed to cover the whole table. I had a feeling that if the fake fur got wet it wouldn't do it a bit of good.

Mercifully the day ended with me and the fur dry. I tried to get packed as quickly as possible before I even gave leaving for the next show a thought. Being just on the show circuit left me a lot of time to kill. Everyone else had a home to go to after the show's end.

"Hi, remember me?" It was the voice that had awakened me that morning which asked it.

"Of course, I was about to send out a search party for you."

"Ah, how sweet. I was afraid that you had forgotten me already."

"Not a chance, I don't meet that many beautiful women on the road." It was a stretch but then what the hell she wasn't a dog either. Body types never did impress me all that much. I found most women to be to some degree heavy or thin. The women with perfect bodies are out there somewhere, I just haven't met very many of them.

"I'm Jennifer, so Writer what do I call you?" She had a pleasant smile on her face. I noticed for the first time that she was almost as tall as me. She had to be at least 5'11". When she wasn't in the polyester pants she didn't look hippy at all. In fact she looked very trim too trim even.

"Well I answer to either Writer or Deke," I replied.

"Geeze Deke sounds so redneck, like a character for that old movie Deliverance."

"Then just call me Writer or anything else you like." I was smiling because when I passed the Mason Dixon line I never used Deke at all.

"Don't you have a real name?"

"Deacon is my real name." I said it smiling up at her from my bent over position rearranging the boxes in my van. "So whatever you want is fine. Now, do you have a restaurant in mind?"

"Yeah, Roaring Red's" She somehow said it with a straight face and also as though it needed no more explanation. Probably for a resident it didn't, but for me it did.

"So what is Roaring Red's and how do I find it."

"Wouldn't you rather I drive?" She asked it looking at the van filled with junk."

"Frankly, I would feel better with all this stuff where I can keep an eye on it. Would you mind being seen in this thing or do you want to just let me follow you."

"I better have you follow, I think I might need to make a hasty retreat. I have a feeling you can be quite persuasive." She did say it with a smile of sorts.

I followed her through the downtown which was just a bit more than the small town USA kind of thing. I had been getting a tour of the rural south on the show circuit. I knew that was gonna change soon. It was early in the season so the small town shows were the only ones. Soon the larger towns would begin their festivals. I chose the larger ones when they were available but the small shows were held at the very first, and very last of the season. I suppose it was because they couldn't compete with the bigger towns for craftsmen or crowds.

Once I entered Roaring Red's I began to feel something crunch under my feet. I looked down but it was too dark to see. Jennifer turned before we were seated, she had noticed my curious look. She said simply, "Peanut shells, you will see."

Before anything else the waitress brought us a glass of water and a metal water bucket of roasted peanuts. Since I have only a dozen teeth left, and they are all in the front, I skipped the nuts. I drank the sweetened iced tea which was excellent. That spoke well for the promise of the large ground beef steak. I waited until Jennifer ordered before I did. I ate the ground up meat due to the afore mentioned teeth or lack there of. I didn't want Jennifer to miss out on a steak because of my dental shortcomings.

"So Jen, tell me about the campground Rape?"

"Nothing to tell Deacon, best anybody could figure the woman was there with her small son. She took him to the bathroom about midnight. He woke up with one of those 'I got to go right now mommy' kind of things. Since the camp site where she was staying was open she took him to the bathhouse. The kid got to watch it. The guy who did it held a gun on them told the kid that if he made any noise his mommy would die before his eyes."

"That was not nice at all," I interjected. I noted that Jen seemed almost irritated by the interruption.

"Anyway it got pretty nasty as the man made lil mommy say and do things a kid shouldn't know about let alone see. He just walked away after. He told the woman not to come out of the house for five minutes as he might be waiting. She walked to the pay phone right outside and called us. We came to made sure it was for real, then called the city police. They came and did their cop things, which did no good.

"Yeah, they would have gotten a million prints from that bathroom. I can't imagine anything of value from the crime scene." I know on TV they find all these cute little clues, but in the real world a crime scene doesn't get vacuumed routinely. I wondered about a car. "Did they ever find out how he got there?"

"No,they woke up every camper out here and made Polaroid shots of them but she didn't recognize anyone. Every space, and every man on every space, was accounted for. It looks as though he just drifted into the campground did his thing and left."

"If you are looking to rape somebody, why the hell go to a campground. It would be my last thought. Did the cops check the people who live on the adjacent road?"

"More pictures and more not hims," she replied.

"They didn't get any hits at all?" I asked it surprised that there wasn't at least one false hit, victims and children make pretty lousy witnesses as a general rule.

"No she was adamant not one of the locals raped her. As you would expect several fit the description but no cupie doll."

I just absorbed the information, I didn't even try to analyze it.

After dinner I left a cash tip, then gave the woman at the register the ole visa card. I had no idea how high the balance would get by the end of the trip, but I expected it to get on up there.

It was pretty near dark and much too late to move on, even if I had wanted to. I followed Jen back to the park. The office was still open so I had the privilege of paying them twelve buck to stay there. Since the card processor was down and I didn't want to wait, I paid them with an assortment of crumpled cash. I paid for only one night. If I stayed, I plan to use the visa for payment.

Again that night I rearranged the boxes to make me a small sleeping spot. I must have been closer to the lake than I had been the night before, since it got chilly in the flannel sleeping bag. I rummaged around by lantern light to find the down comforter. It was less than a hundred percent dawn, but it worked really well when combined with the flannel bag. Besides it was spring in the south, not January in Ohio. I was too tired to process information that night so I slept. I slept until almost noon as a matter of fact.

I hadn't asked if Jennifer was working that night, but I assumed that she wasn't. In any case she didn't stop by to wake me. I hadn't expected her to but then again one can hope.

I didn't quite know what to do with my gear, since I planned to at least read the police reports on the year old rape. Since it was an ongoing case it appeared that I wasn't going to get the locals to cooperate. Even my honorary badge didn't do any good. I hadn't expected it to help, retired cops don't get much respect unless they are home town cops. Plus once they found out I was a writer odds were the mayor couldn't have sprung lose those files for me. Of course it was a moot point since I didn't know the Mayor.

I gave it about a half second's thought then went to the local newspaper. The newspaper was a tiny little store front operation. They even farmed their printing out to a larger paper in the next town. The one thing they did have was a microfilm reader. They also had files of their own paper as well as the larger town next door. I explained to the very young, very blonde woman behind the desk what I was up to. She called someone on the phone no doubt getting permission to show me the microfilm. It didn't seem she was impressed by either my charm or the fact that I was an audio novelist. At least it seemed so at first. As the afternoon wore on with her helping me find the sparse articles, she seemed to warm to both the task and me.

"You know I wonder if the victim would talk to me?" I asked it awkwardly as she stood over me. I had finished with the reader and needed some other way to hold her attention.

"I would say no, but then that is all she can say. Why don't you call and ask?"

The young newspaper lady, named Deloris, looked up the number for me. The rape victim was June Silvers. She informed me that she did not wish to discuss it. With that she hung up on me. I couldn't really blame her for not wanting to relive it.

"So much for that," I said as I stood and stretched. When I stretched I lost my balance then almost crushed Dee as she preferred to be called.

"Are you drunk?" she asked playfully.

"No, I just have really bad balance," I replied shortly.

"Ah I see. My dad had a stroke. After a while he didn't need the cane to walk but he used it anyway so people wouldn't think he had been drinking."

"Not a bad idea," I didn't tell her that I already carried a cane most days.

"Okay Deke, I will make you a deal."

"And what kind of deal do you have in mind?"

"I can get you the police report, at least the original one. I don't know about the later ones."

"And how will you do that?"

"They file all the reports with the records clerk. That one gets filed even if the follow ups don't. Since they claim this is open, the follow up reports might still be in the detective division's file and not in the central file."