The Feet of God

21 - STERN BEAR

Marshal Stern Bear gazed at Ma with intense firewood eyes that glowed even in the daylight, his smile exposing bright white teeth.

She acknowledged the lawman with an economical, “Stern Bear.”

“Found an abandoned DeVille,” he surveyed the premises.  “Knew it was yours.  Thought I’d check and see if everything was all right.”

“What do you mean abandoned?”  Ma shot a baleful look towards Rufus.

Rufus nervously replied, “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, Ma.  Yesterday we hit a roadblock on our way to Remington’s.  After we returned we found some prick had siphoned off all the gas.”
 
Ma was none too pleased with this piece of information.  “Listen, lamb chop, I want my damn car back.”  Rufus acted sheepish as she commanded him, “Take Simon and Peter with you.”  Rufus moved double-time.  Ma added sharply, “Go to the locker and get three turkeys for gas.”

(Somehow I suspected the turkey gambit wouldn’t play out so well.)

Marshal Stern Bear removed his hat and wiped his brow.  He threaded his fingers through thick black hair as he resumed his conversation with the old woman.  “You got yourself a nice little operation out here, Miss Boomrambis, what with your book publishing business and all that mail-order New Age crap, but you had to stay tangled up with that fake swami.”

Ma interrupted, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Stern Bear.”

The marshal stood up straight.  “Leopards don’t change their spots.  That con-artist convinced you that housing his shit under your roof would make you rich.  Well, how’s that working out?  He told you these travelers would generate a cash flow that would grow and grow, and what have you got to show for it?  From what I hear, you got yourself an abundance of rotted turkey carcasses and moldy government cheese.  So where’s that Merman fraud of yours now?”

Ma wasn’t about to take the bait.  She remained silent as Stern Bear approached the porch steps, placing one of his steel toed tooled-leather boots on the lower step and grinning up at us.

“Marshal Stern Bear, I’d appreciate it if you would remove your foot from my front stoop,” Ma reprimanded loudly.  “As for the whereabouts of the Most Exalted Reaper, the Loud Enlightened One, that is none of your business.”

Stern Bear stepped back.  He paused and looked around again.  “You got yourself, what, forty or fifty kids lodged out here?  Every one of ‘em’s a juvenile delinquent, you know that, or even worse.”

“I’m sorry Stern Bear, but I have a spiritual assemblage to tend to,” Ma’s voice was distinctly cold and airy, even if her words was a bit slurred.  “Now, if you have nothing further to add….”

“Oh, but I do.  We’ve had a complaint from your neighbors in the valley that your band of vagabonds have been trespassing, eliminating bodily wastes, spreading graffiti and dumping trash on their property.”

“All lies!” Ma shouted.  “I sent three children over to welcome Mr. Remington and his party to our neck of the woods.  That’s all.  I understand Mr. Remington met with them briefly, signed autographs, and then they returned home.  Case closed.  Didn’t he tell you that?”

“Well, that ain’t Remington’s side of the story.  According to the report we received, some of your people tried to sneak into their site, on protected land, to see what they could steal.  And if they hadn’t been apprehended, there’s no telling what harm they would’ve caused or what they would’ve walked off with.”

“Baloney!” Ma retorted.

Stern Bear authoritatively walked back to his vehicle in preparation to leave.  “All I’m saying, Miss Boomrambis, is that these people hunt squirrels with flamethrowers.  Keep your garbage out of his backyard.”

With that the marshal mechanically folded himself into his vehicle and sped away.

Ma sighed to herself.  “That’s one pig who really sizzles my bacon.”  Suddenly she remembered she wasn’t alone.  “Come on, lambs, it’s time for a little song and dance.”  She made a beeline for the food barn.

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