By Hal Mansfield
The filthy, raggedly dressed, and smelly young man walked into a big, fancy store and asked a young, attractive woman clerk at the counter for a bar of soap.
"Sure. Right over here. We have a lot of different kinds. Do you want only one bar?" she asked, with a rather smug, teasing smile.
"What do you mean?" The young man seemed unsure. Defensive.
"What I mean is that we have a special on this kind over here. Three bars for the price of two," she answered more seriously.
"How much? Only got so much money for soap," he replied, obviously still defensive and suspicious.
"Actually, just soap may not do it," she added. "Well, different soaps do different jobs. Soap isn't just soap anymore. Some are harsher than others. For instance, your hands."
She pointed toward his hands, but he jerked his hands back, almost violently, and began to back away.
"They may need a special cleaner and then some medication to help them heal. They look awfully sore and chapped. You must work very hard with those hands." Her tone had changed to one of genuine concern.
"Oh." He seemed interested and he relaxed a little as he looked first at the many varieties of soap and then took a quick, furtive look at the young woman.
"Yes. Hands that work hard, even with gloves on, require special care. Otherwise they get chapped, injured and sore like yours seem to be."
"I kin work as hard as anyone, I reckon. Hafta. Can't make ends meet, anyways. Don't have money for a bunch of fancy soaps or for, wha'd ya say? Medication?"
"What kind of work do you do?" She asked in a friendly but matter-of-fact way.
"Diggin’, mostly. Shovelin’ dirt and stuff. Loadin’ and unloadin’. Anything I can git. Man's gotta work. Work hard. Still can't afford fancy stuff. Thought a big store like this would have some plain soap. Cheap soap. Someone said you was havin’ a great sale. So I stopped in. First time. Always ‘fore I thought this place was too highbrow for the likes of me."
"Yes. I can see that you work hard. Do you do yard work? I have plenty of yard work that needs to be done. I can't seem to get anyone who is steady or dependable. A man that works as hard as you do and who needs that work must be dependable. And the yard work season is just beginning."
"I'm dependable." He paused and looked quickly at the woman, then back at the soap.
"Ain't never worked for no woman ‘fore. Nobody ever asked me to do yard work. Never had a yard. Don't know as I would know what to do."
"It's nothing special. To learn, I mean. It's not hard to learn. I could show you. Explain."
"Depends." He eyed her briefly. Suspiciously.
"Where do you live? I ain't got no car, or nothin’ like that. Gotta walk to work, so I mostly work near where I live."
"There is a bus. I'd pay bus fare, as well as for the time you spent on the yard. Or, I could pick you up. I have a car."
"I don't cotton much to cars, or to wimmin drivers, if it comes to that. Heard lots ‘bout wimmin drivers."
"The bus then. That is, if you will do it. If you will come do my yard work."
"Maybe." He stared hard at the rows and rows of soap.
"I pay $30.00 per week. That is for mowing, trimming and raking. It's not all that hard, but it does take three or four hours, at first. I'll show you how."
"Thirty dollars?"
"Well, that is what I have been paying. How does that sound? We could ... You could look it over. Decide that way."
"Must be some mighty big yard, if you pay $30.00."
"No. Not large. But, there is quite a bit of work. Some flowers. That sort of thing."
"Don't know nothin’ ‘bout flowers." As he said that he started backing away.
"Wait. You forgot your soap. I could explain about the flowers. It's just pulling some weeds and digging. Nothing complicated or fancy. Takes a little time, though."
"Maybe.""Here is your soap. And, here is some medication for those sores on your hands. It will really help them."
"Just the soap. Don't have money for that other stuff. How much for the soap that's on special?"
"On the house. I mean I'll pay for it for coming out to see if you will do my lawn work. It will help pay for your time. I’ll give you my address. When can you come out?"
"Sunday's only day I got to myself. Hafta be then or not at all."
"Sunday is fine with me. Where do you live?"
"What?" He started to back away quickly.
"I mean, where will you be coming from. So I can give you the directions. Which bus to take, that sort of information."
"Don't know buses. They cost money. I walk places, or I don't go. Mostly, I don't go."
"I live out by Regency Park. Do you know where that is?"
"Not ‘xactly. Never been in that part of town. Heard of it. Too fancy for someone like me. I've heard the cops pick up people like me if they see them up in the fancy places. So, I stay away. I don't like to look for trouble, ‘specially not with the law. I got ‘nuff trouble just makin’ ends meet."
"From here, take the #10 bus, North. Ask the driver to let you off at Montclair. Walk two blocks west on Montclair. I'm on Gregory Vista, just two houses to the right from Montclair. It is 3220. It's not one of the really fancy or expensive homes in the area, though I admit there are some expensive houses in the general area. Here, I have written it down."
"I ain't much on buses."
"I can give you the fare as part of your payment for coming out to look at the job. That's fair, isn't it?"
"No. You already gave me the soap and the medicine for that. I don't want to be over-beholdin’ to you, ‘case I change my mind. I don't know about fancy neighborhoods, or flowers, or workin’ for wimmin."
"Okay. Walk out the same way the bus goes. You can't miss it. The streets are well marked. It is a straight shot to my place from here. That's one reason I have stayed here and that I live in that particular house. Actually, I ride the bus myself most of the time. It is just over two miles."
"Two miles ain't nothin’. You must be mighty rich to work in place like this and own a house, an all."
"No, I'm not rich. What time would you like to come out on Sunday?"
"About eight, I guess. I got things to do. Sunday is my day. I got things to do later on."
"But, could you actually do the work, or some of it, on Sunday? If it looks okay, I mean, and if the money is right? I know you can do the work. It only takes a bit of getting used to. And, I will show you, really."
"Money's okay. Depends on them flowers, and on workin for a woman. Ain't never done that before. Wimmin are ..." His voice trailed away. He looked once more quickly at the young woman and then away.
"See you Sunday. I have to wait on another customer."
"Maybe. If I don't show up, I'll come back and pay you for the soap, but just the soap. This here medication stuff is on you. That was your idea. I didn't come in here for no medication. My hands are always banged up like this. No way out of it. That's what hard work does, and I can't ‘fford gloves."
"I understand. I sure hope you come out Sunday. The yard needs someone steady, reliable, dependable. Someone like you must be. There is a whole season of work for a dependable person."
The young woman answered the doorbell. It was a little before eight o'clock and it was Sunday morning. He stood there, just as dirty and smelly as he had been when she met him at the store a few days before.
However, his hands looked somewhat better. They looked scrubbed and the sores seemed to be healing. They were not as chapped as they had been. She smiled but said nothing. Want it or not, he was using the medication she provided.
"Come in, come in."
"No time for that. Got things to do later on. Jes’ came to see if the work is somethin' I kin do."
"Okay. I thought a cup of coffee might go well, before we start, since it is so early. But, let's get at it. I'll show you around. Then, if you are willing, we can do the work."
"Thought I would do the work. If you can do it, why am I here?" he looked about somewhat suspiciously.
"Oh, you will do the work. I meant I could show you some of the things we talked about. I have things to do inside once you get started. It shouldn't take too long for me to show you around."
With that she walked out of the house and around toward the garage.
"Usually, the boy I had doing this mowed the yard first. Then he would trim the edges. Finally, he would pull a few weeds and do a little grubbing and spading in the flowerbeds; that's about it."
"Looks easy to me. Sure you couldn't do it, lady?"
"Well, yes, I suppose I could, if I had to. However, I have other things I need to do. I work too you know. There is only so much I can get done. The house cleaning and the laundry take up most of my free time for the weekends. I do have to keep my hands
looking nice for my job. Besides, I don't want to work all weekend. I like to go places, do things, don't you?"
"Some, I guess. Mostly I work. Where's the mower?"
"It's right here in the garage. I'll show you how to start it. It already has gas ... it's already to go."
"Start it? I ain't much on motors or power mowers. Don't you have a push mower, one I can do by hand? I heard ‘bout them power mowers. They sometimes throw things. Hurt people."
"Not any more. That used to be true. They have guards now. I'll show how to start it and how to work it. It's safe; I promise.
"See you just set the lever to start it the first time. Then, you pull the handle like this. Presto." The mower roared to life. She shouted above the racket.
"Next you just wheel it like this and press the bar. It stops automatically when you release the bar. It is self-propelled. It does all of the work, really." She shut it off.
"That's what I don't understand. If it's that easy, why do you need me? Even a woman can run one of those contraptions."
"Like I said; it's the time. Here, you try it. I'll just watch for a minute, then show you how and where to dump the clippings."
He started the mower, pushed the lever and skillfully guided it around the lawn for several rounds.
She stepped over toward where he was working and he stopped the machine and shut it off.
"You can tell by the sound of the motor when the bag needs to be emptied. There are trash barrels here, inside the garage. Just empty the bag into the barrels. The full barrels go out here beside the garage for the rubbish people. They come on Mondays."
He quickly emptied the bag into one of the barrels and started mowing. She watched for a couple of minutes and then went inside.
When he was almost through mowing, she reappeared. He finished the last round and wheeled the mower into the garage where it had been.
"I kin do the trimmin' now. That mowin' wasn't much of a job. Like you said, it's a small yard. Where are the clippers?"
"The edger and trimmer are here. They plug into the outside sockets, front and rear. It's faster than clippers. I'll show you where the sockets are."
"I already seen 'em. You sure got lots of machinery 'round here. Who fixes it when it goes bad? That's what machinery is best at, goin' bad. I like simple tools. That's what I work with, like shovels. No movin' parts. Nothin' to go wrong, 'cept maybe break it, if you strain too hard."
He hadn't waited for an answer to his question about who fixed things when they went bad. She guessed he really didn't want to know; that it was a comment not a formal question.
He walked out with the trimmer, plugged it in, and started around the edges and flowerbeds. He seemed to know exactly what to do. He was quick, but careful. She stood watching him a bit too long. She realized he did not like to have her watching him, so she hurried into the house.
When the trimmer stopped whirring longer than usual, she went out to the garage. He had already put it back in its place and was busy clearing weeds from one of the flowerbeds. She could tell he did not want any instructions or advice. She went back into the house, puzzled by how much he seemed to know about "machinery," as he called it and about what she wanted done. He seemed to have an instinct about the work. It must be that, since he had said that he did not do yard work.
After a while, the doorbell rang.
"You want to look around to see how I did, or, if there's any more to do?"
"Just a minute," she said. "I'm having some iced tea. You look a little hot. Can I get a glass of iced tea for you? We can drink it while we walk around and look things over."
She did not wait for a reply but went to the kitchen and fetched two large glasses of iced tea she had ready in the refrigerator. She returned and handed one of the glasses to him as she stepped outside.
"I can get more sugar, if it isn't sweet enough."
"It's fine, jes’ fine," he said, even before he took a drink. But, when he did drink some of the tea, he did so with relish.
They walked around the yard slowly, saying nothing as she sipped her iced tea and as his quickly disappeared. She nodded approvingly at the yard and the flowerbeds.
"Done just like an expert. I thought you said you had never done yard work."
"Never have. Ain't no big deal. Jes' to be sure I went home with one of the guys I work with some. We looked over his yard and he showed me about his mower and his edger and trimmer. They ain't that much different from yours. Your mower is fancier. 'Bout the same, really. Not that I like power mowers, you understand."
"You did a swell job. It looks the best it has in some time. Fast, too. You did it in about half the time it used to take the neighbor boy."
"'Speck you'll want to pay me half wages, then," he said without rancor.
"Oh, no," she said quickly. "It's worth the $30.00, at least. Especially since it looks so nice. No, I would never dock you on the price, just because you work fast."
"Still too much. $30.00 is a lot of money. Ain't worth it for such a small yard. Your price, though. You say $30.00, that's okay by me. Long as you know it's more than the job is worth."
He could talk when he got started, after all. She noticed he no longer was giving her the quick, furtive looks he had at the store and earlier in the day. He seemed to be relaxing a bit, becoming more natural.
"Good signs," she thought. She couldn't get over the fact that he had actually taken the time and effort to learn some of the things that were expected for the job before coming over.
"It was nice of you to take the time to go to your friend's house to prepare for today. That probably saved you a good deal of time, today. That's all the more reason for the full $30.00. It took time and effort on your part to do that."
"Ain't got no friends. He's jes' a guy that bosses where I work sometimes. Figured he could show me better and quicker that you could; so, I asked him. Didn't know if you really knew what was needed here."
"Oh," she said, somewhat quietly. "You don't think much of women, do you?"
"Ain't never had no cause to. Trouble. Ain't had nothin' but trouble from wimmin. First my Ma, now my Sis.
"Course part of her trouble is her no 'count husband." He stopped short, as if he had said more than he wanted to.
"Gotta go. Lot's to do today. I'm obliged for the work. If you like what I did, I'll come again. You say when."
"Every week will be fine with me. I'll get the money. I'm glad you will do it for me. It has been a worry, with the new season and never knowing whether it would get done, or not. It's good to have a man, a dependable man, doing it."
"Don't know about that. Sometimes I may be too busy. If I git a big job. You'll know, though."
"Yes, let me know. I'll give you my phone number, just in case." She hurried in the house and returned with the money and with yet another slip of paper that had her name, address and phone number on it.
"You know, I don't even know your name. Could you leave it with me? An address or phone number?"
"Don't have no phone. Name's Lloyd. Lloyd Daggett. I need to git in touch with you 'bout not comin', I can. See you next week." He turned and strode away.
She put her hands on her hips, akimbo, and watched him go. She pursed her lips and said, "That surely is a strange one. An odd mixture of ignorance and common sense. I wonder why he doesn't clean himself once in while and wear some decent clothes. Maybe, just maybe, I could work on that, since he did use the hand medication. I wonder
what he would look like with a decent haircut and shave and with some nice clothes. And, with a little more weight. He looks half-starved. Mmmm, might just be a worthy project."
As he disappeared around the corner, she turned and went into the house, wondering if he really would come to do the yard on the next Sunday.
The doorbell rang and she looked through the peephole before she opened the door.
"Hello, Dad, come on in. I wasn't expecting you, today."
"Hi, Sweetie. The yard sure looks nice. That kid you got doing it is getting better."
"He isn't doing it anymore."
"I might have known. You do it, yourself?"
"Always the nosey cop, eh? No, I had someone I met down at the store come out and do it. He seems dependable and he surely did a nice job. Quick, too. Same pay as I was giving, Joey."
"Just out and about. Thought you wouldn't mind if I stopped by. I went to early church service. Someone you met at the store? I didn't know any of those people down there ever soiled their hands."
"You won't give up until you have the whole story, will you, Dad? I should have known. Okay, okay. One girl was out sick the other day and two were on their breaks. So, I was working on the soap counter. It was our big sale. I sometimes help out, just to keep in touch. Sort of like you and your questions. Here you are retired for four years and you are still grilling me, just like I was a prime suspect in one of your cases."
"Now, Sweetie. It's not that bad. I was just making conversation; you know that. Besides with my consulting and my 'private eye' work, I'm not fully retired, as you well know." He hunched his still-powerful shoulders and held his hands out, palms up, in feigned innocence.
"What should I talk about, the weather? Your yard looks really nice. Freshly done. Not ragged as usual. Naturally, I would notice."
"And naturally you would be curious. I'm sorry, Dad, It's just that I do feel more than a little guilty. I know you won't approve."
"Another stray I suppose," he winked slyly, as he said it.
"Yes, another stray. As I said, I was working the counter. He came in looking for soap. He said he had heard about our sale. Lord knows, he didn't look like one of our steady customers. And, he really did need some soap. His hands were a mess. Blisters and chapped. You wouldn’t believe his clothes and his shoes.
"He talked about hard work. About only having money for one bar of soap. I needed a yardman. So, I asked. He came. The rest is out there for you to see."
"Boy, you sure can pick 'em, Sweetie. Did you get references? What do you know about him? Maybe he's a front man for that cat burglar that has been hitting houses up in this end of town."
"No, no references. No, no cat burglar. He is just a poor, young man who needed some work. And me? I'm just a poor old maid who needed ... yard work done. No crime. No intrigue. Sorry, Dad, no retired ex-police chief is needed on this case. You'll have to find work elsewhere.
"Want some iced tea, Dad? He had some iced tea. In fact, his glass may still have his fingerprints on it. You could take it down to the lab. Better yet, you could have the mobile lab out here. They could dust the mower and trimmer handles."
"Iced tea sounds great, if you don't mind my staying that long, but only that long. I know you working girls – excuse me, career women, executive career women – have a lot to do on the weekends. Cooking for the week, laundry, housework."
"One iced tea coming up." She was not about to get into the fact that she had never married; had never provided her late Mother and her Dad with the grandchildren they so much wanted.
"Let's drink these out on the patio. It's a little stuffy in here." She opened the sliding doors and took the tray with the iced tea outside.
"One last question. You know, a good cop always has one more question, don't you."
"Yes, I know. His name is Lloyd Daggett. No phone. No known address, past or present. He may be here next Sunday. You can come grill him then. But, we will need a larger grill. I doubt this one will hold him." As she said that, she gave the patio grill a light slap.
"Daggett, you say? Used to be some Daggetts down in the south part of town. Rough crowd. Nothing really bad. Drunks, mostly. Haven't run across any of them for years. I had forgotten the name until you mentioned it. I wonder ... "
"It's probably a common name. Could be dozens of them in a big city like this. Some may even have phones and addresses. He may not be from around here. He sort of had an accent."
"Those other Daggetts did too. Probably from the South at one time. Years ago, likely."
"What are you doing on Decoration Day, Dad? Do you want to come over for dinner? I think I'll have fried chicken, potato salad, baked beans, and cherry pie. Anything in that menu you might be willing to eat, so I won't be sitting alone. We could out to Mom’s grave later?"
"Hoped you might ask. You couldn't keep me away, even with no invite and a police barricade." He rose quickly, drank the last of his iced tea in one long swallow.
"Got to go, so you can finish your weekend maid's work. A man may work from sun to sun, but a woman's work is never done. Or, a cop's, even an ex-cop's."
"Don't scare him off, Dad. When you check him out, I mean. Don't let him know. He is skittish of cops. He said so. He said he does not need trouble; he needs work."
"You talked about the police? How did that come up?"
"He was concerned about walking up here. He doesn't like buses. More than likely, he does not have money for the buses. Anyhow, he said he stayed away from highbrow neighborhoods, like this. He said the cops pick up people like him just because he looks like he doesn't belong.
"I need a yard man. He does good work. He was fast and confident, even with no experience. I don't think he is or ever has been a crook. I know you; you will do some checking. Just do it so he won't know; so you don't scare him off. Okay?"
"Sure, Sweetie. Just a little routine background check. Just to be sure he isn't a sex maniac," he chuckled. "Or a real bad 'un. Okay?"
"Okay. I know you mean well. It is safer to know, especially in this day and age. Good luck, not that the best-there-ever-was needs me to wish you luck."
"Thanks, Sweetie, I needed that. Us old folks need to have our laurels remembered, if only by a daughter, if only once in a while and if only with a touch of sarcasm." He quickly disappeared around the corner of the house.
"No sarcasm. You were the best." She said after him. But, she made no move to follow him. She gathered up the glasses and the tray and went inside, not knowing whether to smile or to frown. She hesitated at the sink.
"I wonder if he knew about my new yard man before he came over. The neighbors? I have kept to myself, but it would be just like him to have the neighbors looking after me, too. I hope it isn't Eric who snitches on me. No, I couldn't possibly be Eric; he is too good a friend. He would tell me, first, then only snitch very selectively, to keep Dad from 'hiring' someone else in the neighborhood to keep an eye on me. I don’t believe in coincidences. Or, in Jung’s synchronicity either.”
"Hi, Chief, what's up? Haven't seen you around here is some time." The captain smiled broadly and held out his hand. He looked older than his ex-chief and he was too heavy by forty pounds.
"Hello, Frank. I try to stay away. You fellows have enough to do without having us 'has-beens' around to stumble over. It is good to see you, good to come down once in a while, even on business. Even on a Monday morning."
"What do you need?"
"Nothing special. Just want a rundown on one Lloyd Daggett, white male, no age, no known address and no phone. Thought I'd see if we have a make on him. And, if so, what it says."
"Let's check him out. After you, chief. You know the way."
The men disappeared down a long hall and into a room full of filing cabinets. First, Frank sat at a computer and typed in ‘Lloyd Daggett.’ Nothing came up. Next, they went to the filing cabinets and looked. Still nothing. They walked back to Frank’s office.
“Thanks, Frank. I guess I'm glad we didn't turn up anything. No news doesn't always mean no record. But, I think in this case it does. I really didn't have any reason to believe we would – I mean that you would – have anything on him. Sort of hoped you wouldn't as a matter of fact."
"Let me know if I can help in any other way. Should I keep it in mind, Chief?"
"No need to. I have some other leads to follow. One of them will pan out; I have no doubt about it. It's not like trying to find someone on the run, someone who is avoiding us . . . er, you. It should be a piece of cake. I know just enough to lead me on. If I really hit a dead-end, I'll come back. Remember, it is no big deal. Very casual. Very routine. Just a reference check, as it were.”
The chief got in his car. He sat briefly tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, his brow lightly furrowed. Then he started the car and eased the car into the traffic. It was a little early in the search, but he decided to play his next hunch right then.
He parked the car in the south side of town and walked into the day-labor employment office. He went up to the information desk.
"Larry Schiffiano in?"
"Yes, he's in his office. May I tell him who you are and why you want to see him."
"Tell him it is George Morning. Tell him I want to wring something from that fabulous memory of his. He'll recognize the name and the mission."
The clerk spoke briefly on the phone, smiled and showed the ex-chief the way to Mr. Schiffiano's office.
"Hi, George, come on in. I thought you were out of the business of needing my memory. You sure have been scarce the past few years. First, you are too high and mighty, being the chief and all. Then, you go and retire. Obscene for someone our age to
retire, George. Gives all of us a bad name: Old. That's what the young punks think. They think I'm old just because some lazy rascal like you retires. They look at me and wonder how long I can hang on. What were you, 58? That must be some pension plan you
cops have. I can't slip out for several more years. My family and I would starve on the pension the employment service offers."
"Come on, Larry, I was forced out. You knew that, didn't you? Politics. A good cop makes a lousy politician. At least that’s my excuse. Good to see you. You don't look like a doddering old man to me. Besides you must be older than me from what you say. That's what makes you an old man. All of those extra years are crucial.
"Larry, I'm looking for a laboring-type. Just doing a reference background for a ... for a friend. I figure he may work out of this office. He's poor as dirt. He does heavy work. His hands are usually banged up. So, I thought of you and of that marvelous memory. His name is Lloyd Daggett." George paused.
"Daggett? It does ring a bell. I think there used to be a whole family of them. Kinda rough-house types. Drunks, as I remember. But, you see, I'm not out on the line any more. I sit in here and fill out forms. Just a pencil pusher. That's what my fabulous memory, as you call it, has done for me. It's got me promoted to chief pencil pusher."
Larry leaned over and punched the intercom.
"Jack, any record of any type on a Lloyd Daggett? What? Yes, D-a-g-g-e-t-t. Lloyd. Most likely grunt labor, by the day. Probably recent. Maybe a regular. If you find anything can you bring down to my office?"
"Our records are confidential, you know. Is this off the record?" Larry laughed.
"Yes,” George said. “Definitely off the record. Headquarters didn't have anything on him. I'll try the courthouse next. But I'm pretty sure he works in this end of town. He definitely works hard and with his hands. I can't come up empty on this, even if it is just to see if he would make a good gardener. It's sort of like my reputation is at stake, since I volunteered to do this."
"How about some coffee. It won't take Jack long; he's a pretty fair country pencil pusher, too. He keeps good records. Has to. Otherwise I'd chew him out."
"No. No coffee. I would like some soda pop. You got a machine around here. This cop work is hot, dry and thirsty work. No wonder I bowed out early. You guys got it soft down here with plush offices and air conditioning. Whew! We never had it so good, even uptown."
Larry pushed a button on his intercom. "Dolores, will you bring in a ... What do you want, George? What kind of soda pop?"
"7-Up, will do, if you have it. Otherwise, whatever is cold. None of that ‘diet’ stuff, though."
"A regular 7-Up, Dolores. Thanks." George said into the intercom.
"I hate to tell you this, George, but you are dating yourself with that 'soda pop' bit. It's carbonated beverage in this day and age."
They were both chuckling when Dolores brought in the 7-Up. She was followed by a tall, lanky man.
"Thanks, Dolores,” Larry said as he handed George a 7-Up. Dolores nodded at Larry, smiled at George and left the room. Then Larry turned to George. “This is Jack."
The chief shook hands with Jack. Shaking hands with Jack was a little like trying to shake a wet noodle.
Jack handed a folder to Larry and left. He had not said so much as ‘hello, or ‘pleased to meet you.’
"Friendly type?" George said.
"No, Jack is just a wee bit shy. Also, he thinks records are to keep, not use. Don't worry about it. I get the same treatment every time I try to fish in his records for the information I need for my reports.
"Ah, here we are. Lloyd Daggett. You were right. He is a regular, very regular. He must be some specimen. There doesn't seem to be anything that is too hard for him. He does it all. Shovels coal, grain, dirt, digs ditches. He must be a good worker. He gets repeats. That's a clue here in this office on the quality of the man. The repeats tell a lot. He must work like the very devil."
"Any address or phone."
"No. That's not unusual, though. Many of our people are street people. They sleep in the flophouses, or in abandoned buildings. The lucky ones get into one or another of the charity places. All they have to do is be here when an employer comes for one man or for a crew."
"However, I can tell you where he has worked a lot. He may be working there now. Over at Golden's Gravel pit. Bernie Golden would know. Want me to give him a call?"
"No, thanks. I need to move around. I remember the place. Never met Bernie, but I know of him. Who doesn't?"
"Do I pay for this soda ... uh, this drink on the way out?"
"It's on the house. Sort of a bribe so you will come back sometime in the next five or six years."
"Thanks, Larry. I may be back sooner than you think. You know, flat tires and cops come in threes. You have been a big help. Remember, your files are confidential. I haven't been here, except as an old friend, just to talk about early retirement. Right?"
"Right,” Larry said as George walked out the door.
The chief turned his car carefully into the entrance to the gravel company. He drove slowly to where several other cars were parked, near a sign that said 'Office' and got out. He stood by his car and looked casually about the yard before going into the office.
"I'm looking for Bernie Golden." George said to man sitting at a desk.
"He's down the hall. Third door on the left. Just walk on in."
The man at the desk had not even asked him his name or the nature of his business. He hardly looked up. The third door was open. He walked in. A plump, balding man was slouched in a chair. He was on the phone, so the chief waited near the doorway until the man grunted loudly and hung up the phone.
"Whatcha want?"
"My name is George Morning. I'm doing a reference check, informal and off the record, for a friend. It's on a man who has worked here; he may be working here now."
"George Morning. Used to be a police chief named George Morning. That you?"
"Yes. But I'm retired now. I do a little investigative work on the side. Just routine, simple stuff."
"Heard you got cross-wise of some of the political stuffed shirts and got 'retired early.' That so?"
"That's what I heard, too. So, it must be so, since we both heard the same thing. Ancient history, now. I've heard some things about Bernie Golden over the years. Good things, mostly. Seems you like to put burrs under the saddles of some of those political types."
Golden roared. He got up quickly from his chair, considering his bulk, moved forward and shook the chief's hand vigorously.
"I'll bet you have heard that about Bernie Golden. I'll just bet you have, at that. Bernie Golden doesn't like politicians or stuffed shirts.
"Now, what can I do for you? Off the record, you say? I dunno about that. We'll see."
"A friend is thinking of having Lloyd Daggett do some weekend yard work and simple gardening. I understand he works for you as a laborer from time-to-time. Do you know of him, of his work and of anything else that would speak for the man or against him?"
"That's it? That's all you want to know? I thought it was something hush-hush."
"Well, it is. He's skittish. Secretive. Won't give an address or a phone number. My friend likes his work, but wants to be sure."
"Can't give you much. He has worked here. Does good work; when we need his type. Don't know anything beyond that. You can talk to Ralph, the yard foreman, if you want to. I doubt he knows anymore. We don't need references. If they work, they work. If they don't we get someone who will. He works."
Golden shook the chief's hand violently and went back to his desk. He was on the phone before the chief was out of the office.
"Where can I find, Ralph?" the chief asked the man in the front office.
"Out in the yard. Down that way." The man pointed vaguely and dropped his head back to his work.
The chief walked out of the office, shielded his eyes from the glare until they adjusted and walked toward a large building about a hundred feet from the office. A man came out of the building as the chief approached.
"Lookin' for someone?"
"Yes, I'm looking for Ralph. Bernie Golden said I might see him for a moment."
The man squinted and pursed his lips, as if trying to solve a deep riddle.
"Well, I'm Ralph, but I don't know why the law would want to talk to me."
"I'm not the law. Not any more. I've been retired for several years. This is just a private matter. Routine."
"I know you aren't chief anymore. Once a cop, always a cop, if you know what I mean."
"Yes, I guess I do. This is confidential. I want some information about Lloyd Daggett. Do you supervise him when he works here?"
"Ain't no one else who's foreman. Just me. What's he done?"
"Nothing. A friend wants to hire him to do yard work on the weekends. Lloyd didn't provide an address or a phone number. Just checking to see if he is honest."
"Can't speak to that. Don't know as we have his address or phone number, either. Comes to that, he probably doesn't have a phone. Most don't. Or an address. Likely he sleeps where he can, on a given night. Good worker, though. Wish he would shower more often and change clothes. But, he does work hard. Man can overlook the other, or stand back a ways."
"Shiftless brother-in-law, Calvin Connelly, I think that's his name. Lloyd brought him along once. Loafed most of the morning; I let him go at noon. Figured we'd lose Lloyd, too. He understood, though. Said he would have fired him by ten o'clock. Guess you could call that honest. I think the brother-in-law and Lloyd's sister drink. He has mentioned it, or I wouldn't. Seems he gives them money. Keeps him broke. That sounds honest – but dumb – to me, to waste money on booze for someone else. Lloyd ain't what you would call smart; he ain't educated. But, he ain't dumb either. He has a good head. He thinks about his work. Good mechanic, too, when you edge him into working on something. Says he hates machines. Me? I don't believe him. I think he wishes he was trained to work with machines. That's all I know."
"I would appreciate it if you wouldn't tell Lloyd I was here. Just a routine check. Seems like he will be okay as a weekend gardener, after all. I think I understand now about the address and phone business. Here. You have been most helpful."
The chief handed Ralph a ten spot. Ralph gave a mock salute and headed back into the large building. "Long as it's just weekends, so we don't lose him here, when we need him," he added as he disappeared back into the large building.
"Hi, Dad. How's your police work coming along? Find out anything dangerous about my weekend gardener?"
"Hi, Sweetie. No, nothing bad yet. In fact, what little I have turned up seems okay. Maybe more than just okay."
"That's good. I'm glad to hear it; but I'm not really surprised. Strays usually are harmless, even those you pick up in large, fancy department stores."
"I'm not done yet, Sweetie. I still have a little more to do; so don't think you are completely off the hook for picking up this particular stray."
"Dad, are those boxes of clothes Mom used to keep around the house still stored in the attic? You know, the clothes we outgrew as kids but didn't quite wear out; the ones she never could bring herself to pass on to the Salvation Army or to the Thrift Shop?"
"Yes. They are still up there. I haven't bothered with them since she passed away. I figure to go through that stuff some day, but I just don't seem to get to it. Why do you ask?"
"Well, my gardener could surely use some clothes. His are ragged and dirty. And, they smell awful. Dick was about his size when he was in high school. The way fads came and went he never would wear anything out. Mom just packed most of it away, eventually. Some of it must be up in those boxes. Still good. Still serviceable, though not in style."
"I don't know, Sweetie. Technically they are Richard's things. I'm not sure ... "
"Come on, Dad. None of those would even begin to fit Dick, now. He weighs thirty pounds too much. You know that as well as I do."
"It's not that. They have sentimental value. For me, I mean. They were important to your mother. That's why I haven't done anything to the attic. That was her attic. She loved those things. She treasured the memories and all. She told me she used to go up there and sort through them, reminisce, cry a little 'cause you kids were grown and away."
"I'm only talking about a few things, Dad. I understand how you feel, but I don't think she would mind, now. You know how practical she was about most things. I wouldn't take any of the important things like Dick's letter jacket or his prom suit. None of that. Just a pair of pants or two and a shirt or two. Practical stuff. Things my gardener could work in. There are some things like that up there. I know there are."
"Well, Richard would have to know. To approve. In fact, he should be there. Just in case he cares about those things more than you think he might."
"Look, Dad, I'll come over. We can call Dick from over there. Then, if he gives the go ahead, we can call him and describe the clothes I have selected. That way, you will know that he approves. You can be on the main phone and I'll be on the extension. Okay? It might be months before he comes to town, you know that. Waiting for him to be here is just stalling."
"Sure, Sweetie. When do you want to do it? One thing, you have to promise to cook me a meal while you're there; and I even want you to help me with a couple of things around the house."
"Sure, Dad. It's a bargain. Friday night? I'll call Dick and set it up with him, so he will be there when we call."
"No need for you to do that, Sweetie. I have to call him on another matter anyhow; I'll set it up with him. If he can't do it then, we can schedule another time."
"Let me know, if it is all right with Dick."
"I will, Josselyn. I will."
"'Bye, Dad.""'Bye, Sweetie."
"Come in, Sweetie, come in. It's good to see you. I was beginning to think that you had forgotten that you promised to fix dinner for me tonight as part of the bargain."
"Sorry, Dad. Things got hectic at the store at the last minute. Naturally, as one of the 'bosses' I had to stick around until the calm returned. That's what we 'bosses' are paid for."
"Sure. Sure. No matter. I started without you. I figured you could put the finishing touches to it . . . offset any of my bungling with your magic touch."
"I'll get right at it. What time are we supposed to call Dick?"
"All taken care of. He called a few minutes ago and said he had something come up. He said we could take any of his old clothes that both of us decided he wouldn't want. He placed his complete trust in us. He did mention the letter jacket and the letter sweater, but that was it. I told him you just wanted a couple of shirts and trousers to wrap a stray in."
"Did Dick say if that 'something' was his latest fling? I didn't think we would get him to cancel Friday night, just so he could veto what we would want from those things in the attic."
"Well, I had to be sure. I still don't like it. But, I know you. You won't let up 'til you get something from up there. Comes to that, maybe I should just take this guy to Penney's and buy him some new stuff. He must be pretty gamey; even his foreman mentioned it."
"His foreman? I didn't know he had a regular job. I thought he just got work as he could."
"It's not what you would call a regular job. Not everyday. Not on a salary or anything like that. But, he does work for a sand and gravel outfit when they need someone. They like his work. The foreman seemed to like him."
"In fact, everything I have found out so far suggests that he is a hard worker and dependable, too. Helps his sister and a do-little brother-in-law. The brother-in-law doesn't work much and both he and Daggett's sister drink. No wonder he needs money. None of the work he does earns him much money. I think a lot of what he does earn goes to them. Maybe he isn't too bright. He doesn't have any education to speak of, that I know for sure."
"Education isn't everything, Dad. And, not everyone who is poorly educated is retarded, you know that. Some of the slickest crooks had very little schooling. Even some that outsmarted the 'world's greatest,' eh, Dad?"
"Smart alecky, kid. I can still box your ears. Yeah, even some of the brightest crooks didn't learn what they knew in school. Leastways not in public school."
"Point made, Dad? Give the man a chance."
"Point given, Sweetie. Let's eat and then see what we can find up in the attic for your latest stray.”
Josh met Lloyd as he arrived at her garage on Sunday morning. "Hi, Mr. Daggett. I have everything all ready for you. Here are the rubbish barrels. The mower has gas in it and the extension cord for the trimmer is over there. Here are some gloves for you to use, when you get to the weeding."
"Name's Lloyd. Ain't fittin' for the boss to call me Mr. Daggett."
"Good. You can call me Josh; that's sort of short for Josselyn."
"Sounds like a man's name. Colored at that. Miz Morning suits me fine, since you are the boss."
"I'll be in the house if you need me, and we'll have some iced tea on the patio in about an hour." Josh turned quickly and went in the house before he could refuse the offer of the tea, wondering why the man was so difficult and so aloof.
"Don't go in. I got somethin' to say."
Josh wheeled and walked back toward him. He had his head down and was shuffling his feet, as if he might find his words on the ground.
"Heard someone was around asking questions about me. Something about references. A cop who used to be the chief of police. Figured I wouldn't come at all today. I don't cotton to cops. I got nothing against them; I just don't like a fuss. Cops are mostly trouble to us poor folks. Hassle us. 'Rrest us. I got no money for lawyers or bail, you understand. I'm honest. I work hard for what I earn. I don't cause no one no trouble.
"So, I thought I wouldn't come today. Ralph said I should. Said it only made sense for a woman to check out someone like me. Someone she didn't know. Good sense.
"Well, I thought it over. I need the money. But I don't need cops 'round my work. I might get fired. Me, I'm honest. You got nothin' to fear. I don't steal and I don't run with punks that do. So, that's that. You trust me and I'll work for you. I need the money. You want to know somethin', you ask me. No more cops, especially not big-time cops, former chiefs-of-police.
"Agreed?" Lloyd was still looking down and shuffling during most of the speech. But, he looked up as he asked the question.
"Agreed, Lloyd. Actually, he's not a cop. Not any more. He's been retired for some time. And, I didn't really hire him. He did it on his own. I asked him not to; he insisted. You see, he is my father. That's why he did it, Lloyd. Just a father looking after his daughter."
"Your pa?""Yes, my Pa. It hasn't always been easy, being a cop's daughter. It freaked out some of my friends, especially boys I went with. Some left and never came back, as soon as they found out."
"He's not a bad sort, Lloyd. Not at all. And, he found out some good things about you . . . about how hard you work. About how the foreman at the sand and gravel company likes your work. He is right; I should have asked for references. But, you seemed honest and hardworking and dependable. I went on trust. On trusting my instincts."
"Humans got no instincts. I saw that on TV. Don't know how you thought you could tell. Lord knows I don't look like much. Torn clothes, torn shoes, dirty hands ... I ain’t figured out yet why you asked me to work. 'Ppreciate it, since I need the work.
"Well, I best git at the lawn. Ain't got all day. Got things to do, later. Got to hurry, since we took all this time talkin'."
He turned and quickly wheeled the mower out of the garage. He went to work without looking at her.
She stood for a minute before she turned and went into the house.
She kept watch out the window until he finished mowing the lawn. She carried the tray with the iced tea things out to the patio table as he was getting the trimmer out of the garage.
He came around toward the patio with the trimmer, seeming to know that the iced tea would be ready and that it was time for a break from his work.
"Can you spare a few minutes for some iced tea, Lloyd? As hot as it is, I expect your body needs the liquid. Sit here in the shade."
He sat down and took the glass without comment.
"Sugar?""No, mam, just the tea."
"Have you lived here long, Lloyd?"
He looked up quickly at the question, and down just as quickly.
"Several years, I guess. I don't pay much 'ttention to time. Too busy workin' to know what time does or what time it is. Maybe twelve, fifteen years. Seems longer, yet not so long."
"I know what you mean. I have been at the store for five years. Sometimes it seems like I just started yesterday. Other days it seems like I have been there forever and still have an eternity to go."
"What's your job at the store? You a clerk?"
"Actually, no. I just happened to be at the counter the day you came in. I work in the . . . I'm one of the buyers for the store."
"Buyer. You buy the store?"
"You know. The merchandise. As we sell things, we have to get new merchandise in. We have to order ahead, so we will have summer things in the spring and winter things in the early fall. We are sort of like planners . . . we try to order what people will buy. What our instincts tell us people will like."
He looked up quickly at the word instinct, but didn't say anything.
"Well, not really instincts, then. What our best judgment suggests people will buy. Which fashions, or colors, or items will be in style. You know what I mean?"
"Reckon I don't. But, if you say so, it must be so.
"Ain't never thought much about stores. Not fancy stores like that place where you work, for sure. Too fancy for me. Food is about all I buy. 'Bout all I can afford."
He finished his drink and got up to go back to work.
"Lloyd. Wait another minute. Will you sit? I have something to ask you."
He stood as if reluctant to obey, or not, but he did not sit.
"I have a pair of pants, a shirt, and a pair of shoes. They belonged to my brother. He can't wear them. He has outgrown them. He is too . . . heavy. I think they might fit you. Pretty close, anyhow. Will you think about taking them with you when you have finished."
"Ain't no charity case, Miz Morning. My clothes ain't much, I know. But, they's bought and paid for." He started to walk away to finish his work.
"I'm not offering charity. Your work is so good. The yard looks better than it ever has. You deserve a bonus. I thought the clothes and shoes would make a nice bonus."
"Thirty bucks is too much pay for this little bit of work. Bonus, you say. I did get a bonus a few times 'cause I work hard. Sometimes the bosses were pleased and said so. Sometimes, not often mind you, I got bonuses. That was when I was bein' under- paid to begin with. Bein' overpaid and gittin' a bonus to boot don't seem right. I gotta think on it. I'll let you know."
She gathered up the iced tea things on a tray and hurried inside. She heard the whirring of the trimmer as she put the dirty dishes to soak. Maybe, just maybe she was making a little progress.
Her brow furrowed. “Progress toward what?” she wondered.
Lloyd rang the doorbell, looking troubled, as he waited for Miz Morning to open the door. After some delay, she opened the door.
"All done, Miz Morning."
"Gee, that was quick, Lloyd. Won't you come in while I get the money for you?"
"No, mam, I'll just wait out here for you."
Josh turned as if to go for the money. Then, she turned back to face the man standing in the door.
"Oh, Lloyd, did you think over the bonus offer while you were finishing the rest of the lawn?"
"Yes, mam, I did. I figure you want me to look nicer, more ‘sentable, when I come to work on your lawn. Sort'a so I'll fit into the neighborhood a little better than I do with these here real dirty work clothes on. I reckon’ I can understand that. I did a little extra work on the flowerbeds. Some things I picked up on from that guy at work. Should help the flowers some."
"That was nice of you, Lloyd. So you will take the clothes." She fairly beamed.
"Yes, mam, but I'll keep 'em nice, so as when I come here I won't be lookin' a disgrace."
"It wasn't that, really it wasn't. I just thought we could put the clothes to use. Dick will never use them. He's too f . . . uh, heavy. They won't fit him. You have earned a bonus, even without the extra work you did in the flowerbeds. I really believe you have.
"Besides, as hard as you work, you deserve to have some nicer things for yourself, once in a while. Don't you agree?"
"No, mam. Not unless I earn 'em, that is. A man has to live by what he earns. Man tries otherwise, it only leads to trouble. To feelin' uppity, like as not. I don't cotton to lookin' nice in clothes I ain't earned."
"That's an admirable value to have, Lloyd. And, it sure holds true in this case. You have earned these; you have earned them to wear whenever and wherever you choose."
She handed him the small bundle of clothes and the thirty dollars.
He took the bundle and the money, with his eyes downcast, turned and began to leave.
"I'll see you next Sunday," he said as he walked down the walk.
"Okay, next Sunday it is. I'll look forward to it. Have a good week. The yard sure looks nice. Doctor Meldrum, my neighbor, is jealous. He's confined to a wheelchair. He has trouble getting someone reliable to do his lawn. You might think about talking to him, if you think you would have time to do his. I could introduce you and give a reference."
Lloyd stopped and turned. He was almost to the corner of the house.
"Does his lawn need work today? I got some things to do but they could wait a bit. That is, if he really needs somethin’ done today. I could use some more money, that's a fact."
"Yes, his yard needs a good mowing and trimming. He doesn't have any flowers because he hasn't had anyone he could depend on to keep up the flowerbeds. But, he does pay thirty dollars, too. At least, that's what he said."
"You folks up here sure are free and easy with your money. Thirty dollars. That's a heap for doin' a yard." He had returned to the porch where she was standing.
"Put your bundle here just inside the door. Let's go over and see Dr. Meldrum. He will be pleased that you have the time to do his lawn. It has gone several days too long, so it will be a little more work this time than it will be in the future."
"If you ever had several days to work here, he would really like to have some flowerbeds. He knows a great deal about flowers. If you didn't mind, he could show you what he wants and how to do it. You know, sort of supervise . . . uh, guide you."
"Ain't got no steady job, just now. Things is slow; mighty slow. 'Bout as bad as I have seen it. That's why I'd be willing to do it, even today. The other things I normally do on Sunday, they can wait.
"We'll see about the flower beds. I ain't ever worked for no one in a wheelchair before. Or when someone was right there tellin' me what to do all the time. I ain't crazy 'bout that, I can tell you."
"I understand. No need to decide on the flowers until you have talked with him about the lawn. You don't even need to say I mentioned the flowerbeds; that is, until you feel comfortable doing so."
They walked to the back of the house next door, up a wheelchair ramp and Josh knocked at the back door.
"Come in. Come in."
"Oh, Josh, it's you. How good to see you. And, you must be Mr. Daggett." The Doctor wheeled adeptly forward as he spoke. He stopped the wheelchair near the two and extended a hand to Lloyd.
Lloyd held the hand lightly and briefly, as if he might damage it or catch some horrible disease; then let the Dr’s. hand go. He mumbled a 'hello.'
"Eric Meldrum is my name, Mr. Daggett. I have a great need for a reliable man to do yard work. Josh and I hoped you might be able to do two lawns while you are up here each week. Any prospect of that?"
"I need the work, and that's a fact. Guess I could try it. See how it goes, for now. I like to try things first, without strings bein' ‘tached, so to speak."
"Fine by me. You set the rules. You do the work. I have been paying thirty dollars for mowing and trimming. There would be more if you want to do more than that. But, we can ease into that as you see fit, Mr. Daggett."
"Name's Lloyd, sir . . . doctor. If I work for you, I'm Lloyd."
"Fair enough. Say, Josh, I’d like a little snack. Why don't you fix Lloyd and me a sandwich, one for you, too, of course, while Lloyd and I go out and discuss man's work."
Lloyd glanced quickly at Miz Morning to see how she would take the order.
"Are you sure I can eat, too, Eric, or do you mean that I can eat my sandwich in the kitchen while you two eat yours out on the patio?"
"What do you say, Lloyd, shall we let the lady eat on the patio with us; or do we condemn her to the kitchen, to the woman's rightful place?"
Lloyd looked puzzled. He started to say something. Stopped. Finally, he sort of shrugged.
"Just kidding her, Lloyd. Josh and I kid a lot. In fact, I joke with most folks a lot. That is, if I don't think they will take it seriously; object to my jokes and humor, that is. Also, that's why I call her Josh instead of Josselyn, like nearly everyone else does, because I 'josh' her a lot."
"How about you, Lloyd, can you take joke now and then, or should I always be serious?"
"Fellers at work kid me a lot. I guess it's okay. They joke about my clothes and my shoes. They're all I got. 'Til today that is." Lloyd suddenly seemed to remember the bundle of clothes, which he had left at Miz Morning's.
"Looks to me like you have worked hard in those clothes and in those shoes. That's what they show me. I see a lot of hard, honest, dependable work. No joke there, I suspect, at least not by me. I like a man who works hard, one who works with his hands. Maybe that's because I can't do that sort of thing, not anymore."
"No matter, Lloyd. Let's go out and see if the job and the wages will suit you. Meanwhile Josh will scare up a lunch for us and we can eat out on the patio; whether you take the job or not, we eat. Man has to eat, especially a working man."
Eric wheeled past Lloyd, through the screen door, and out on the porch. Lloyd followed somewhat hesitantly. He glanced back at Miz Morning but she was already opening the refrigerator door and reaching inside. She seemed to know what was there and what she wanted. He frowned and went out.
Eric wheeled into the double garage. The garage was neatly arranged. He showed Lloyd where the mower, trimmer, and rubbish barrels were. All were along one wall. On the other side of the garage was a shiny, late-model car. Lloyd looked at the car, then quickly away.
They went out in the front yard, around the far side of the house and into the back yard with Dr. Meldrum explaining as they went. Josselyn was sitting at a large picnic table on the covered patio. The table was set for three and generous meal was laid out.
"Well, that is it, Lloyd," Eric concluded. "What do you think? Can you take my lawn on as one of your clients?"
"Reckon so. Looks about the same as Miz Morning's. Maybe not even as much work, what with no flowerbeds. Thirty dollars is too much to ask to do it. Other than that, it's okay."
"Thirty bucks is the going rate around here. You may be right, it may be too much, but what isn't these days? Food, clothes, even a trip to the movies. They all cost more than they should. So, since they all cost so much, I pay thirty dollars. Most everyone on the block does, too. It's high, but fair."
"You say so, Dr. Meldrum, it must be so. Me? I can't git used to high wages. Never could. Guess that's why I don't git paid much and don't git ahead. Seems like cheatin' to me, all those high prices and high wages. Seems just like cheatin'."
"Not really, Lloyd. It's inflation. Inflation has its good points and its bad points. Me? I'm old-fashioned and pretty conservative. So, I agree with you that both wages and prices are too high. On the other hand, it makes most people feel good to have a lot of dollars passing through their hands. Makes them feel rich, like they amount to something. That's one of the good aspects. Anything that builds self-respect isn't all bad, Lloyd. Building self-respect is sort of my business, Lloyd. I like to see self-respect go up, don't you?"
"Don't know nothin' about that. Never understood things like that. Ain't had 'nuff schoolin' to understand about stuff like that."
"Oh, nobody really understands inflation. I talk about it but that doesn't mean I understand it. Self-respect is another matter. That I do understand because it is my business."
"I ain't never heard of a self-respect doctor. Guess I'm too ignorant."
"Really? I'm a psychiatrist, Lloyd. A head doctor. It isn't all self-respect, but a lot of it is. You have it whether you know about it or not. You work hard. That takes some self-respect. Quite a bit, in fact. You are honest, more than honest about wages. That takes a heap of self-respect. That's what it is, Lloyd, a lot of things like working hard, being honest, being dependable and staying off welfare. Helping others. Giving others money when you don't have enough for yourself."
"Never thought of it that way, 'xactly." Lloyd looked thoughtfully down at the ground. Then, he looked quickly at Miz Morning, as the two men approached the patio table.
"The snack is ready, you two. Come and get it before the maid eats is all or throws it over the fence for the neighbor's dog."
"Looks good, Josh. You certainly have a way with my refrigerator. I can look in that thing all day long and not see anything that I really want to eat. You come over and ‘presto,’ a feast."
"Lloyd, you sit across from Josh. I'll just wheel up here to the end of the table. Good. Let's eat."
The plates were large. Actually they were large, compartmented trays, much like cafeteria trays. Generous servings of baked beans, cole slaw, cut vegetables, and pie filled the compartments. Josh passed a plate of large sandwiches to Lloyd, who took one and handed the plate to Eric.
Lloyd began to eat slowly and self-consciously. He seemed to draw inside himself with the closeness of the situation, unsure of what to say, or how to eat, or where to look. Mostly, he looked down at his plate.
After lunch, Lloyd quickly went to work on the lawn. He went through the routine without question, supervision, or apparent doubt.
Josh cleaned up the luncheon things from the patio and then returned to her house, still puzzled by the change that had descended on Lloyd. She mentioned it to the doctor before leaving for her house.
"I think he has something really important to ask me, to talk about, when he finishes the lawn," is all Eric said to her.
"Whatever it is, he clearly wants us to be alone, when – if – he brings it up. I'm as curious as you. But that does not mean I can tell you afterwards what it was, Josh. It may come under doctor-patient confidences."
This did not satisfy Josh, even though she knew Eric was probably right. It might be something very confidential.
"It had to be important to upset Lloyd so," she reasoned to herself. Still, she was curious, very curious.
Lloyd rang the front doorbell and waited until he heard Eric call out.
"It's unlocked. Come on in."
Lloyd hesitated a moment before he opened the door and walked into the entry hall.
"I'm back here in my consulting room. That you, Lloyd?"
"Yes, sir . . . Dr Meldrum. It's me. I'm all done with the lawn, I think. Thought you would want to ‘spect it before we have that talk."
"Come on back. Third door on your left. We can talk back here. This is where I meet my clients, listen to their troubles and help them, if I can. Come on back."
Lloyd walked into the room and stood awkwardly in the doorway.
"I'm ... me, I'm just a dumb moron. I don't know nothin' 'bout anythin'. I cain't even say what I feel I gotta try and say. 'Cept I'm miserable. When you said you was a head doctor, a psycha'trist, I knowed it was time for me to try and git some help. I'm miserable. Sick, I guess. Since I met her ... Miz Morning, I bin thinkin' jes' how worthless and miserable I am. Always was, I reckon."
"I 'spose I'm too ignorant and too poor for a 'portant head doctor like you to help me. I ain't got no money. Not much that is, but I could do your lawn, and put in your flowers, and pay you a few bucks now and then. Doctor, I'm jes a poor, miserable moron, but I need your help."
Eric had said nothing. He had not moved. He had made no visible sign that he heard, or understood, or cared about Lloyd, or his plea for help. He waited.
Lloyd sobbed and turned to go.
"Well, that's what I thought. But, I had to give it a try. Jes’ in case you might be willin' to try to help a no 'count moron. I should'a knowed better."
"Hold it right there." Eric's voice was deep and full. It bore the mark of a man who would be obeyed.
"Sure, you are ignorant and poor. But, I am the doctor. I decide who I treat and who I don't. Just you come back in here and listen. I'll do the doctoring and you do as much as you can to get well. Just that, and no more. Just what you can.
"Now, you said you wanted to talk. Well, you do the talking and I'll do the listening, because listening is part of the doctoring. First, you sit down in that chair. Then, you tell me what's on your mind and why you are miserable.
"That isn't too much to ask, even from someone like you who happens to think that he is a moron, is it? Tell me just what you want to and not a bit more. You decide what you want me hear and when. I'll decide what doctoring to do, how and when. That's fair, isn't it?"
Lloyd walked to the large chair the doctor had pointed to and sat down, heavily. The doctor looked sternly at him. Lloyd began to sob.
"I ain't never had nothin'. No reg'lar family. No reg'lar schoolin', leastwise none to speak of. Ain't never done nothin' but work in the fields when I was a kid, 'til I ran away to here. Then, my Mom and Sis followed me out here. Later, Sis got married." The sobbing returned.
"Weren't no better here. I work hard. I'm honest. But I'm jes' a poor ignorant moron. I never git a dollar ahead, seems. In fact, now that times are gittin' hard, I can't even find reg'lar work. Mom died some years ago. My Sis and her no 'count husband, they both drink. 'Sides that, he don't work reg'lar, what with his bein' lazy and drinkin' too much. So, most o' my money goes to help Sis. I cain't git ahead and they don't want to.
"I ain't worth nothin' and I 'spect I never will be. But, I'd like to be somethin' 'sides a moron, I really would. Seems like even a moron deserves somethin' more'n jes' hard work an no future."
Lloyd paused. He looked quickly at Eric, who had not moved or reacted visibly to Lloyd's sobbing or to the story.
Lloyd put his hands on the arms of the chair as if to rise.
"Now you stay right there. Like I said, I'll do the doctoring and you do the talking. I ain't done listening to you, yet. So, don't think you can start out and then just get up and leave anytime you want to. Once we start, we finish. We have started; so we have to finish. You do the talking, but you only tell me as much as you want to, not one bit more. You talk. I'll listen. You want help. I'll help. But, if you want help, you got to talk. Later, I'll talk. Plenty. You'll listen. That's how I do the doctoring. That's how you get as well as you can. You talk; I listen. I talk; you listen."
"Fair enough, Lloyd?" For the first time, Eric lowered his voice a little and seemed genuinely concerned.
"I guess that's fair. Like I say, I ain't got no money, to speak of. But I kin work hard, on your lawn, and I kin do them flowerbeds Miz Morning talked about you wantin'. I kin darn shure work hard, and that's a fact. 'Course, when I kin git other work, I want you to understand that I need to do that work, too. So, maybe I couldn't always be here, jes' ‘xactly when you wanted. But I’ll work evenin’s, if I have too; both days on the weekends, too."
"I'll tell you when I want money and how much I want. You let me worry about that. You, you will have more than enough to think about while you and me are getting you well. Yes, I said you and me. It will darn sure take both of us to get you well. You do your part and I'll do mine. Part of mine will be to tell you when I want money and how much.
"Understood, Lloyd?"
"Yea, I reckon I understand. Leastwise about the money part. I shure don't know nothin' 'bout gittin' well, though. A moron ain't 'posed to know nothin' 'bout that, I guess."
“Now,” Eric said emphatically, “you tell me about this moron thing. I want to know why you think you are a moron.”
“Well, . . . it’s like . . . I must be a moron. When I was in the Army, they made me a yardbird. That there company commander, he said I was too ignorant to do anythin’ ‘cept maybe yardbird work. He wondered how I ever got in the Army.”
“Company commander, eh, did he ever give you a test to see if you were a moron, or not?”
“Test? Yes, sir, ‘they’ was tests when I first went in the Army. They almost didn’t take me. Still don’t know why they did; then just make me a yardbird.”
“What does a yardbird do? What did you do while you were in the Army?”
“Nothin’ much. I jes’ sorta hung ‘round. Did errands for the company clerk, the first sergeant and the company commander. Whatever they told me to do.”
“Did you get into any trouble? Were there things you couldn’t do, when they asked you to do them?”
“Some things, I guess. Sometimes I would ask ‘round. Couple of the other soldiers were nice to me. They ‘splained things. Helped me. Most of the others made fun of me, played jokes on me, told me things that weren’t so. Tried to git me into trouble.”
“Did you stay out of trouble . . . in the Army, I mean?”
“Yes, sir, I did. I did my time. Then, there was some sort of cutback. They let me out early. Didn’t need no yardbird in an Army with cutbacks, the sergeant said.”
“Did you come back here after the Army?”
“Yes, sir, I did. Bin workin’ here ever since. Don’t look like I’m ever gonna git anywhere. Hard work, not much pay and what with my Sis and all . . . “ Lloyd’s voice trailed away.
“Humph! Moron or not, you seem to get by better than some I know. Some with lots of brains. Even someone who only thinks he is a moron can learn a lot of useful things. Like yard work. Like driving a car . . . lots of things.”
Lloyd looked up startled when Eric mentioned driving a car.
“No!” Lloyd protested loudly. “No one as dumb as me could ever learn sumthin’ as hard as that. Driving? No . . . (sadly) . . . No.”
“Balderdash!” Eric said emphatically. “Lots of morons drive. That’s one reason I don’t drive, anymore. Too many damn fools racing around like they are trying to kill themselves and anyone that gets in their way.”
“I mostly walk. Even that’s dangerous. I nearly got kilt several times.” Lloyd offered.
“There. You see. You could drive better, more carefully, than those damn fools. You take my word for it.”
“But, enough of that,” Eric said. “I want you to tell me more about yourself. Tell me why you think you are sick. You mentioned that several times.”
“Have to be sick. Otherwise I would git ahead. Be able to earn more money. Save some for . . . for schoolin’ . . . for better clothes . . . for . . . what did Miz Morning say?
. . . for a movie . . . for goin’ places.”
“So, you and Miz Morning talked about the movies. Tell me how that came about.”
“Well, you see, she offered me these clothes. They’re from . . . somebody in her family.”
“Yeah,” Eric intruded, “they’re from her brother, Dick. He’s gotten so fat he couldn’t wear them on a bet. Besides, they are clothes he wore a long time ago. Just the thing for you. Just the thing. I’m sure glad you are going to take them.”
“Oh, you knew ‘bout ‘em?”
Eric was surprised by the directness of Lloyd’s question. He paused.
“Sure, I knew about them. Josh mentioned them to me when I was telling her how great her lawn looked and when I was asking her if she thought you would be willing to do my lawn as well, as long as you were coming all this way to do hers.”
“Oh.”“Look, Lloyd, this getting well is going to take some time, possibly a long time. We’ve made some progress today, quite a bit of progress actually.”
“I’m going to talk to you now. You can accept what I say and do what I say, or not. It will be up to you. To help you listen, I am going to ask you to relax, fully. Then, I am going to say some things, many things that may seem strange to you. Don’t do any more than you can, as you can. Listen carefully. Don’t try to talk. Just listen. When I am done talking, that will be it for today. You will have lots to think about.
“Since you aren’t working, I would like for you to come tomorrow and work all day. Most of the day, you will working outside. Digging up some old flowerbeds. Easy things. Good, hard, honest work. Part of the day, we will be working – you and me together – at getting you well.
“Listen carefully. Even morons, and even people like you, can listen carefully. In fact, I’ll bet you are very good at listening. Seems to me that you have always been good at it. My voice will go with you. From today forward, my voice will always be with you. Many of the things I say, you will not remember – some never – and some only a long time after I have said them.
“For example, your eyes are growing very tired. You are very tired. You can hardly keep your eyes open, especially as you listen to my voice. Very tired. Eyelids very heavy. Listen to my every word. Keep what I say in your mind. Keep my voice with you, today, tomorrow . . . always.”
Lloyd seemed to go to sleep. He slumped in his chair. His head rested on his chest. He went quickly and deeply into a hypnotic trance.
Eric talked on for some time. He talked about the dignity of hard work. He talked about the honesty of hard work. He talked about how important hard work was to those who did it and to everyone who benefited from the labor of those who worked hard. He mentioned farmers, he mentioned miners and he mentioned those who worked on yards.
After he talked for about a half-hour, Eric asked Lloyd to wake up. Slowly but surely, Lloyd came out of his trance. He seemed puzzled.
“I . . . I’m sorry I jes’ couldn’t seem to listen, like you told me. I guess . . . I think I went to sleep.”
“Hah! Think nothing of it. You did just what I wanted. You listened very well. Later, some of the things I said will come back to you. Always my words will be in your mind, helping you get well, helping you to understand yourself, helping you to decide what you can and can not do to get well.
“Don’t worry, Lloyd, everything went well. Extremely well. Will I see you in the morning?”
“Yes, sir, I guess you will. What time?”
“Eight will do fine. By the way, I pay $7.50 an hour for the flower garden work. Is that okay.”
“Seven fifty. That’s too much. Why, I only git ‘bout five dollars an hour for most of the work I do. That’s all I ever seem to git. It’s all mos’ people wanna pay a dummy like me.”
“Well, the reason I pay $7.50 is because you will be working and learning . . . doing double duty, so to speak. That’s why I pay more. Besides, if I don’t pay you a decent wage, how are you going to pay me for all of that getting well you have to do?
“See you in the morning, Lloyd.
“Oh, Lloyd, don’t forget to stop by Josh’s and pick up those clothes.”
“Yes, sir, I won’t forget. Thank you.”
Lloyd held his head down and shuffled along. He was deep in thought with the bundle of clothes from the Mornings tucked under his left arm. A police cruiser pulled up and stopped. Two officers got out and one of them hailed Lloyd
“Hey you, you with the bundle. Stop right where you are.”
Lloyd turned. A look of surprise on his face. He nearly dropped the bundle.
The two officers converged on Lloyd. One walked up to Lloyd and tapped the bundle. The other hanged back a few steps and moved around behind Lloyd.
“Wha’cha got in this package?” the officer says as he continues to tap the bundle. I’m Officer Shoen. This is my partner, Officer Daley. This is our territory.”
“Uh, jes some old clothes. Miz Morning gave them to me as a bonus for some yard work I did fer her.”
“Miss Morning, did you say? Would that be Miss Josselyn Morning, the daughter of the former Chief of Police?”
“Yes, sir, that’s her. I’m takin’ care of her lawn. Dr. Meldrum’s too.”
“Yeah, we saw you up there mowing and grubbing. You look suspicious to us, don’t he, Fred?”
“Not to me,” Fred answers. “That bundle looks like just what he said it was. Come on, Matt, we have to get down to headquarters.”
“Not so fast, Fred.” Matt answered. “Looks like we got us a bum here.”
Lloyd looks from one officer to the other. He is confused and completely out of his element.
Matt continues. As he does so, he thumps Lloyd on the chest. “Me? I say we take him with us down to headquarters and book him. You sure don’t belong here, not here in this nice neighborhood, do you, you bum? Let’s see some ID.”
Lloyd looks down at his feet. “I . . . I ain’t got no ID. Not on me, leastwise. Don’t drive and my Army discharge papers and my birth certificate are at my Sis’s place.”
“Ah, hah! No ID. I would have bet on it. Now that’s what I call reason enough to take you in, feller. Bums don’t have ID. You don’t. That makes you a bum, in my book.”
Fred steps between the two. “Come on, Matt, Don’t make a federal case out of it. We saw him working up at Miss Morning’s place and at the place next door. Let’s go.”
“Not on your life. Where do you live, bum?”
“Ain’t got no real address-like. I stay at my Sis’s some. Sleep out some in good weather.”
“Ah, hah! See, Fred, what we have here is a bum. A street person. No ID. No address. He might be one of those illegal aliens. Maybe he escaped from a mental institution. Maybe he’s dangerous. We need to find out more about him.”
Fred turns in disgust. “For God’s sake, Matt, leave him alone. Be reasonable for once. I’m reporting in. Headquarters is probably wondering why we aren’t down there or why we haven’t checked in.”
With that Fred stomps off toward the cruiser. He gets in and uses the radio.
“Get in the car, bum. I’m going to give you a ride downtown.” With that Matt grabs Lloyd, steers him to the cruiser and shoves him into the back seat. Fred shrugs his shoulders but does not say anything.
Matt gets in on the driver’s side. Looks around at Lloyd and peals rubber. Matt turns on the flashing lights. A few blocks later, the cruiser pulls into the headquarters parking lot. Both officers get out. Fred walks around and opens the door for Lloyd.
“Here, you, whatever your name is, take your clothes and your smell and get out of here.” He hands Lloyd the bundle of clothes and give him a gentle push toward the street.
Lloyd starts toward the street.
Matt yells, “Not so fast, garbage. I got something to say to you. You stay away from places you don’t belong. You stay away from Miss Morning’s and from that neighborhood. Got it? We find you up there and it will be the slammer for you. Understand?”
With that Matt turns and follows Fred toward the station’s back entrance.
Lloyd, dejected and confused, walks slowly away from the station. He looks back when he hears Matt’s loud laughter echoing back just as the two officers go into the station.
Later that afternoon, Lloyd walks up to a phone booth. He squints at piece of paper. He lays it on the shelf below the phone, puts some coins in the phone’s slot and dials a number. He waits.
“Dr. Meldrum, this is Lloyd Daggett.” Lloyd hesitates.
Dr. Meldrum: “Yes, Lloyd.”
“Reckon I won’t be comin’ up tomorrow to work on those flowerbeds.” He says and then listens for Dr. Meldrum’s reaction.
Dr. Meldrum: “That’s a real surprise, Lloyd. Why not?”
“Police officers stopped me. Said I don’t belong in that neighborhood. Said I was to say away from Miz Morning and you.”
Dr. Meldrum: “The police, you say. How did you happen to be talking to the police?”
“Two of them stopped me just after I left your block. One of them asked me a bunch of questions. He was real angry at me for bein’ where a bum like me don’t belong.”
Dr. Meldrum: “That’s nonsense, Lloyd. You and I both know that you belong here because you are working here. Who were these guys, anyhow?”
“Don’t know. They was in a police car. The angry one was Matt. He was the hardest on me. Wanted to ‘rrest me and put me in jail. The other one told him to leave me alone.”
Dr. Meldrum: “Ah! Good cop, bad cop. That old routine.”
“Don’t know nuthin’ ‘bout that. They took me down to headquarters. Then, the other cop, Fred, I think, he told me to take the bundle and get outa there, like he wanted all along.”
Dr. Meldrum: “Where are you calling from, Lloyd.”
“Jes’ from a public phone booth. Sorta near where my Sis lives.”
Dr. Meldrum: “Here’s what you do, Lloyd. You clean up some. Shave. Put on those clothes Josh gave you and you come up here tomorrow morning, just like you promised you would. I’ll take care of the problem with the officers. Will you do that?”
“I don’t know, Doctor Meldrum. I shore can’t ‘fford to go to jail. I shore don’t want no trouble with the cops. I told Miz Morning cops would ‘rrest a no good bum like me up in that fancy neighborhood. I told her that.”
Dr. Meldrum: “Lloyd, do you have any thing with your name and address on it? Any kind of ID?”
“Don’t have no address. But I got my discharge and my birth certificate at my Sis’s.”
Dr. Meldrum: “That will do just fine, Lloyd. Also, do you still have some of the money you earned today?”
“”Some of the money? I little, I guess. Gave most of it to Sis.”
Dr. Meldrum: “It doesn’t have to be more than a few dollars. Just to show that you are not a bum. You are a workingman, Lloyd. You work for us. You belong here. You can come and go like anyone else!”
“I don’t know, Doctor Meldrum. I shore want to keep working for you and for Miz Morning. And I darn shore want to git well, like we talked ‘bout today.”
Dr. Meldrum: “Good. That’s all that counts. You will get well. You do as I have just suggested and you can come up here. The police cannot arrest you, even if they stop you again. You have my word on that. You do believe me, don’t you, Lloyd?”
“I darn shore do believe you; that’s a plain fact. I’ll do what you say, even if it gits me in bad with those cops and even if it puts me in jail.”
Dr. Meldrum: “That’s the spirit, Lloyd. Jail, my eye! They bother you, they will have me and George Morning to deal with. Me and the Chief. We are totally on your side in this. Chief Morning and me, we are an awesome pair, Lloyd. You can depend on that.”
“You say so, Dr. Meldrum, it must be true. I’ll do my best to be there in the morning, ‘less the cops pick me up and put me in jail. One thing, are you shore I should wear them clothes what Miz Morning give me? I was plannin’ on jes wearin’ ‘em when I did Miz Morning’s work.”
Dr. Meldrum: “Yes, wear them. There are more where they came from. Don’t worry. You won’t go to jail. Or, if you do, Chief George Morning and Dr. Eric Meldrum will come down there, bail you out and give those cops the old what for!”
“Wow! I never did hear anyone talk ‘bout the cops like that. I ‘pposed no one could do nothin’ ‘gainst the cops.”
Dr. Meldrum: “Believe me, Lloyd, we can and will. See you in the morning, as you promised.”
“Yes, sir.”Lloyd hung up the phone. He stood in the booth for some time. As he walked out of the booth, his eyes were downcast. He was in deep thought. Then, he brightened up, smiled and walked faster.
Later, Lloyd walked down to a large river that runs just south of the main part of the city. Under his arm was the bundle of clothes. He had a small, brown paper sack. In the bag was a razor, a small mirror and one of the bars of the soap. Lloyd walked into a large growth of trees and brush. The heavy brush grows clear down to the stream, forming a small grotto. He striped and waded into the water, soap in hand. He bathed thoroughly, soaping himself and rinsing the soap off often. When he returned to the bank, he sat down and shaved while his body was getting dry.
Finally, he put on the clean underwear, shirt and pants. Then, he finished dressing by slipping on the socks and the shoes. The clothes are a ‘nearly perfect’ fit. He gathered up the bar of soap, his razor, the mirror and the filthy, old clothes.
When he emerged from the brush and marched up the riverbank, he was whistling softly.
After his phone conversation with Lloyd, Eric, looked at the phone for several minutes. He picked up the handset and dialed a number.
“George, this is Eric.”
George: “How are you doing, Eric?”
“Fine, George, just fine.”
George: “What sort of job did Lloyd do for you?”
“He did a good job, George. Just like I wanted. Better than in a long time. George, there is something funny going on. Lloyd got picked up by a couple of cops soon after he left here. One of them, Matt, gave him a hard time.”
George: “Matt?”
“Lloyd wasn’t all that sure. But, yeah, an officer named Matt and one named Fred.”
George: “What happened? What did they do?”
“Well, they asked him a bunch of questions. Matt did. Fred seemed to want to leave him alone. They took him in the cruiser down to headquarters. There, this Matt told him to stay away from the neighborhood. He was really spooked. He wasn’t coming back.”
George: “Is that all they did?”
“Guess so. Lloyd seemed to think that they officer named Matt was pushing it. Fred, if that was the other officer’s name, wasn’t.”
George: “What did you tell Lloyd to do?”
“I told him to bathe, shave, to carry some ID and money and to come up here tomorrow morning wearing the clothes Josh gave him.”
George: “Is he going to do that?”
“He finally said that he would. I told him that there wouldn’t be any trouble. I told him that you and me could take care of the police if they bothered him again.”
George: “I’ll talk to Josselyn. I don’t think she has had anything to do with Matt in a long time. He tried to force himself on her when I was Chief. I think he thought it would give him some sort of promotional ‘in.’ She dumped him.”
“I thought it was something like that. Josh and I talked about it some.”
George: “I’ll take it from here. Thanks for calling me, Eric.”
When he hung up from his conversation with Eric, George dialed a number.
“Hi, Sweetie.”
Josselyn: “Hi, Dad. What’s up?”
“When was the last time you saw Matt?”
Josselyn: “Matt? Matt Shoen? I haven’t seen him in a long time. I told him not to bother me anymore. That was a long time ago. Why do you ask?”
“Two officers picked Lloyd up shortly after he left Eric’s this afternoon. One was Matt and he gave Lloyd a rough time. He loaded him in the cruiser and took him downtown. Then, they let him go. Matt told him to never come back up here.”
Josselyn: “That sounds just like Matt. He is not a nice man. I think he beats up on people just for the ‘fun’ of it. As soon as I got to really know him, I ended it before it even began.”
“Well, it could have been a coincidence, but I’m skeptical. I don’t really believe in that kind of coincidence. Maybe he’s still keeping an eye on you.”
Josselyn: “It’s been a long time, Dad. With almost anyone but Matt, I would find it hard to believe. With him? I just don’t know. It could be.”
“I wanted to touch base with you just to be sure. Next, I’ll have a talk with Mr. Matt Shown and with his partner, Fred Daley. I think that will do it. Night, Sweetie.”
Josselyn: “Goodnight, Dad, and good luck.”
‘Now, Officers Shoen and Daley, we’ll find out what threatening Mr. Daggett is all about.’ Having said that to himself, George reached for the phone and dialed the police dispatcher’s non-emergency number.
The next morning Lloyd was walking along the street. As he neared the corner to turn onto the street where Miz Morning and Dr. Meldrum live, a car pulled over to the curb. Matt jumped out of the car and rushed in front of Lloyd, blocking the sidewalk.
“Think you’re pretty smart, eh, dumbo. Why’d you tell old George Morning about our little conversation yesterday? That wasn’t his business. That was just between me and you.” Matt was livid.
“I didn’t . . . I didn’t talk to Chief Morning nor tell him nothin’.” Lloyd stared at Matt.
“Liar! He called Fred, first, and then me last night. He told us not to bother you anymore. Said you had a right to be up in that neighborhood, same as anyone else. Said you were doing yard work for his daughter and that shrink next door to Josh.”
“All of that is true. Still, I didn’t call him or talk with him.” Lloyd seemed to gain confidence as he said this.
“Who did you call? Miss Josselyn, high and mighty, Morning?”
“No, sir, I shore didn’t call her. Wouldn’t bother her with nothin’ likes of that. I called Dr. Meldrum to tell him I couldn’t come back today to work for him like I had promised. Or for Miz Morning, either. That’s who I called and what I said.” Lloyd’s voice was resolute.
“Now we are getting some place. What’d that old goat say when you told him that?”
“He asked me why. He wanted to know what had changed my mind in such a short time. So I told him ever’thin’.”
“That was a dumbo-idiot thing to do. I might have known that you didn’t
have no sense. Now you really got problems, jerk. You turn around and head back
where you came from. If you don’t, I’ll show you who belongs here and
who doesn’t!”
Lloyd looked at Matt. Then at the ground. He knitted his brow. He was clearly trying
to decide what he should do between two very different and difficult options.
Lloyd reached a decision: “You ain’t in uniform. That means you ain’t acting as a police officer, ‘fficial-like. I reckon I’m going on to work for Dr. Meldrum, like I promised him I would.”
Matt reached out and grabbed Lloyd and gave him a shove backwards. Caught completely by off-guard, Lloyd stumbled and fell to the sidewalk. Just then, a second car pulled up to the curb. George Morning rushed out of his car.
In a booming voice, he said, “Hold it right there, Mr. Shoen!”
Matt turns in obvious surprise.
“I guess I didn’t make myself entirely clear last night. I told you to leave Mr. Daggett alone.”
Matt was too surprised to speak.
“Josselyn wants nothing to do with you. She has made that more than clear. Neither she nor Dr. Meldrum wants you hassling Mr. Daggett. You want to hassle someone, you hassle me.”
Matt backed toward his car. George Morning walked toward him. Matt turned and ran. He got in his car and slammed the door. He had trouble getting the car to start. By the time he got it started, George Morning was standing by the driver’s side.
“The trouble ends here and now or you answer to me and to your superiors. Got it? You want trouble? You come see me. I am trouble with a capital ‘T’!”
Matt gunned the engine and screeched away.
George walked back to where Lloyd was standing and brushing some leaves and grass off of his clean clothes.
George held out his hand. “I’m George Morning, Josselyn’s father, Mr. Daggett. Sorry that working for my daughter caused you this problem. I think this is the last time that officer or anyone else will bother you about coming to and from your jobs.”
The two shook hands. George took Lloyd lightly by the arm and lead him towards his car.
“Did you hurt yourself when he pushed you down?
Finally, Lloyd found his voice, “No, no sir. I jes slipped is all. He took
me ‘pleatly by surprise.”
“He was acting like a darned fool. Don’t know what got into him. Josselyn brushed him off a long time ago. Guess he’s one of those macho pig-heads that can’t take no for an answer.”
George waved Lloyd toward the passenger side of his car.
“If you don’t mind, get in the car. I’ll drive you over to Eric’s place. That way, you won’t be late.”
Lloyd got in the car. “I’m sure ‘bliged to you, Mr. . . er, Chief Morning. Shore never thought my comin’ up here would cause anyone, ‘ceptin’ maybe me, all this trouble.
“I know’d the cops don’t like riff-raff like me in these fancy neighborhoods.”
“The trouble was not your fault. This has nothing to do with legitimate police business. It’s just that fool, Matt Shoen, trying to cause trouble ‘cause my daughter wouldn’t have anything to do with him.”
“Shore don’t know why he’d bother the likes of me. I ain’t nothin’ but a poor workin’ man. Never did nothin’ to him.”
“If Matt gives you any more trouble, you get in touch with me immediately. Here is my card.” George handed Lloyd one of his private investigator business cards.
“Thank you, Chief Morning. I ‘ppreciate it.”
“My daughter is probably at work. I’ll just let you off here in the driveway and go on. Eric is waiting for you. He’ll be in his study or the kitchen. Just walk on in.”
Lloyd got out of the car and headed towards the back of Eric’s house.
Lloyd was at Dr. Meldrum’s door at 8 o’clock, sharp. Lloyd did not mention his hassle with Matt Shoen. He and Dr. Meldrum talked about the yard and the flower gardens as they went around the yard. Lloyd got the garden tools out of Dr. Meldrum’s garage and began to do the things they had talked about. When lunchtime arrived, Dr. Meldrum had some sandwiches and other things on a tray. He asked Lloyd to carry the tray out onto the patio. They had lunch, while Dr. Meldrum discussed in greater detail exactly what he had in mind for the yard and for the flowerbeds.
After lunch, Lloyd, carried the tray with the remains of the luncheon things on it as he went behind Dr. Meldrum into the house. After leaving the tray in the kitchen, Lloyd followed Dr. Meldrum into the study. Lloyd sat where he had the day before.
“Well, Lloyd, you did some good work this morning. I have ordered some plants and other things. They will be here in a little while. That gives us some time to consider what we talked about yesterday. Do you remember much from yesterday?”
“Not a whole lot. I tol’ you ‘bout myself. You listened. Then, you talked and I . . . guess I went to sleep. Funny thing is, you didn’t seem upset ‘bout that. Me sleepin’, that is.”
“Pretty good, Lloyd. I couldn’t have summed it up better myself. There are several things to remember: Sometimes you talk and I listen. Sometimes I talk and you listen. Sometimes you go to sleep while I’m talking so you can listen more carefully and so you can remember some of the things I say better; also so you will forget some of the things I say until later. You see, Lloyd, psychiatry is a matter of talking, and listening, and understanding.”
“Sure don’t know nothin’ ‘bout that psychi’try stuff. Did a heap of thinkin’ since I left here yesterday. Heap of thinkin’. Thought you’d be mad ‘cause I went to sleep. Guess you wanted me to. Never thought I could sleep and listen at the same time.”
“Oh, Lloyd, you listen well when you are awake, too. But the other way has its uses. Now, back to work. When I count to ten, you will again go into a deep sleep. Then, I will talk to you.
“Today, I will give you some very important instructions while you are asleep. You won’t remember them, but they will profoundly affect the way you think about yourself and your life. 1, 2, 3, your eyelids are growing heavy. 4, 5, 6, you are going into a deep, deep hypnotic sleep. 7, 8, 9, 10, you are deeply asleep. You can hear only my voice. My voice is loud and clear. You will understand both what I say and what the deeper meanings of my words are.”
Eric talked for about twenty minutes. He talked about the difference between being a moron and being uneducated. He talked about the difference between being a good, uneducated person and being both educated and good. He outlined how a person who has not had formal schooling can still have the potential to become educated. Finally, he brought Lloyd out of the hypnotic trance just as the doorbell rang.
“Lloyd, that’s probably the delivery man with the things for the yard. Ask him to deliver them around in the back yard. Then, you can start placing them in the beds you cleared this morning, just like we discussed.”
“Yes, sir. I better git out there and put them things in ‘fore they’s begin to ‘teriorate.”
“Yes, you do that. But while you’re working with your hands in the garden, your mind will be working on what I said to you just now, while you were asleep.”
“Sure is a puzzle that; listenin’ whilst I’m asleep.”
“Yes, it is a puzzle, but it works wonders, sometimes. I have a feeling this is going to be one of those times.” He said as Lloyd walked to the front door. Almost as an after-thought, he added, “One of those wondrous times.”
Josh was getting ready for work when her doorbell rang. She walked to the front door, looked through the peephole and then opened the door.
“Dad, what are you doing here at this time of day? I have to leave for work in a few minutes.”
“Hi, Sweetie, thanks for letting me in. I came over without letting you know because I made up my mind on something while I was at mass this morning. It will only take a minute or two.”
“I’m just finishing a cup of coffee. Do you want some? There’s still almost a cup full in the pot. Now just what is so important that it could not wait until this evening?”
“No, thanks, on the coffee. It’s probably not all that important, but I wanted to talk to you while the idea is still forming in my mind. Is Lloyd’s work still up to the high standards he set in the beginning?”
“Sure it is, Dad. Not only that, he has done some excellent work next door. Eric is really pleased with Lloyd’s yard work. Eric can’t talk about it, of course, but I gather the therapy – I guess that’s what we can call it – is progressing very well, too. Lloyd looks world’s better. He is beginning to act a little different, in small but noticeable ways.”
“Glad to hear it, Josh. It’s what I expected but I had to ask, just to be sure. You mentioned that a dozen, or so, people in your neighborhood would like to have him do their yards.”
“Yes, Dad, about a dozen, as near as I can tell. That’s between the ones that have talked to me and those that have mentioned it to Eric.”
“Well, Sweetie, I did some asking around among my neighbors. Seems there is a shortage of good, reliable yard workers up my way, too. That gave me the idea that brought me here this morning.”
“An idea, Dad? What sort of an idea?”
“I still have that pickup that I restored as a hobby. I don’t use it much. It is in excellent shape but it just sits there almost all of the time. Not only that, it costs money for the license plates and insurance. It would make an ideal vehicle for someone starting out in a yard business.”
“Gosh, Dad, you are probably right about that, but Lloyd does not drive. Never has. Doubt that he wants to. I gather he’s against it.”
“That may not be a problem. I used to know this wild man, Rufus Sprinkles.
He did odd jobs out of the same state employment office that Lloyd works out of.
I can check with Rufus to see if he is still driving and if he would be interested
in a partnership.
“Dad, that sounds like a swell idea. Lloyd need the work and the money. Maybe,
just maybe, he could do it. Maybe the two of them could be a successful team.
“I wanted to run the idea by you first. Now, I’ll talk to Eric to see
what his take on it is. Depending on what Eric says, I’ll hunt up Rufus to
see what his situation is.”
“I have to go to work, Dad. Let me know what you find out.”
George moved to the door and gave his daughter a peck on the cheek. Josh returned the kiss.
“Bye, Dad.”“Bye, Josh.” With that taken care of, George walked over to Eric’s back door.
*****George Morning walked into Larry Schiffiano’s office and the two men shook hands.
“Well, George, this is really something. You come in the other day after I haven’t seen or talked to you in a coon’s age. Now, here you are again, almost before the chair you sat in got cold. What gives.”
“Ah! Larry, it’s like this. You treated me so good the other day that I just had to come back and see if you could do it all over again: Treat me that nice, that is.”
“Come on, George, we both know better than that. You have something up your sleeve; I can see it in your eyes.”
“True. I do. No use beating around the bush with you. Is Rufus Sprinkles still around?”
“Ha! Old Rufus? Sure he’s still around. He’s not as old as we are. He’s just had some hard miles put on that body of his; that’s all.”
“Is he still driving that old pickup, the one that smoked up half the town?”
“Nah. He had to put that thing up on blocks. It finally gave out on him and he didn’t have the dough to fix it. Thank heavens. He was half the smog problem that this town has.”
“What’s he doing? How’s he get around?”
“Well, he hobbles down here. Hangs around until someone needs him. They either have to pick him up or he catches a bus to the job. Not as much demand for him, now that he can’t get there like he used to.”
“Do you know if he still has his driver’s license?”
“ ‘Spect he does. Hasn’t been all that long since his pickup gave up the ghost.”
“You got an address or a phone number for him?”
“Address? Probably. Phone number? Doubtful. I’ll get what we have. You sit here while Dolores brings in a regular 7-Up. I’ll dig into the files and be right back.” Larry hurries out. Dolores brings in a 7-Up but Larry is back before George has taken more than a few sips.
“Here you are, George. I could get disciplined by the State for giving this information to a non-employee; so, don’t let on where you got it.”
“Thanks, Larry. Expect the FBI any day. I never could resist snitching.”
“Bye, George. Don’t forget to come back soon.”
*****George got in his car and drove the dozen blocks to Rufus’s house. George pulled up in front of a house that had an old pickup on blocks in the driveway. He got out and knocked on the door. An elderly looking black man with a bad limp walked around from behind the house, just as an attractive young woman opened the door. George tipped his hat to the young woman and spoke to the man.
“Hello, Rufus. My name is George Morning. We met a few times quite a few years ago. But, I’m retired now. Not a cop anymore.”
“Reckon you was a rookie the first time we met. Not likely I’ll ever forget you. You helped straighten me out; turned me away from a no-win life. That’s what you did, for a fact.”
“Ah, come on, Rufus, you’re the one who straightened yourself out. All of the good things that happened were because you started making better choices.”
“Still, I’ll never forget what you helped me do. Never.”
“I appreciate the kind thoughts and words, Rufus.”
“What a retired Chief-o-Police want with me. I bein’ good for a long time now. No need for the cops to be lookin’ fo’ me.”
“Work, Rufus, work. I got a business proposition for you. Let’s talk out there by your pickup.”
“Jes’ a minute. I got to turn off the hose ‘afore I we does that.” Rufus disappeared the way he had come when George first arrived.
George walked over to a beat-up pickup. Two tires were missing and the windshield and one of the door glasses were badly cracked. He walked around it as Rufus came up from the back of the house.
“Ain’t never goin’ to run again, that pickup. Too bad. I could still use it doin’ odd haulin’ jobs, if I jes’ had the money to fix it up.”
“Ever do any yard work, Rufus?”
“Nah. I ain’t never had any interest in that sort of work. Too hard for me, what with my bum hip and game leg. I cain’t git up and down like yard work needs a feller to do. Cain’t put ‘nough pressure on my leg to push a mower, neither.”
“How good is your driving?”
“Haven’t had no tickets in years. Never had no trouble since I got my last three driver’s licenses.”
“You still have a valid driver’s license?”
“Yes, sir, I do. But say, what’s this all ‘bout, anyhow. Why a big-time cop, like you, askin’ a poor ole black man all these questions? I ain’t done nothin’ wrong. All’s I wants to do is work, work so’s I can keep body—what’s left of it—and soul together.”
“Well, I may need a good driver. Someone who’s steady and dependable. Someone who would mainly just drive a pickup around town, while another man does the yard work. You interested?”
“Let’s move up on the porch and sit a spell. Want some iced tea?”
“Yeah, that’d be nice.”
The two men walked up on the porch. George sat down and Rufus said something to the woman who was still standing in the front doorway.
“My daughter, Ruby, will bring the tea.” Having said that, Rufus sat down and looked at the former cop for a minute before speaking.
“Maybe I would be interested, if I had a pickup and if I knowed who would let me do that – and pay me, of course.”
“I make no promises today. However, if you’re interested, the pickup would be part of the deal. You say ‘yes’ and I will talk to the other party. Might be that party will be interested. Maybe, maybe not. What do you say?”
Ruby brought two glasses with ice in them and a pitcher of tea. She placed it on a small table between the chairs where the two men were sitting.
“Chief Morning, this is my daughter, Ruby. She comes over sometimes and checks on me, mornings.”
“Glad to meet you, Ruby. Thanks for the tea. Tastes real good.” As he said that, George took a second sip. As Ruby smiled and went back in the house, Rufus continued.
“I says I needs the work. I says I can sure do the drivin’. I says that it looks like somethin’ I would mighty like to know more ‘bout.”
“Okay. You got a phone?”
“No, but I can give you the neighbor’s number. She’ll come git me most anytime.”
“Here’s the deal, Rufus, I know a young man who does yard work. He’s a good worker, but he doesn’t know how to drive. I figure you could drive and maybe do some of the light yard work. The two of you could split the earnings according to the work each of does, after taking out all of the expenses.”
“Still, I got no truck. How’s bout that?”
“I’ll get to that in a minute.”
“Why for this guy doesn’t drive? Did he lose his license for doin sumthin bad?”
“Bad? No, he never learned to drive. Never had enough money to even think about driving. He’s sort against machinery, including cars and trucks.”
“Reckon I’d havta meet him. See what kinda feller he is. Is he a blackman?”
“He’s white. Poor as dirt. Uneducated. A hard worker, though, and reliable. You may know him. He worked out of the same place you did . . . er, do.”
“What’s his name?”
“Lloyd Daggett. He’s done a lot of day labor. Maybe you two actually worked on jobs together.”
“Huh, I knowed some guy named Lloyd. We ain’t into last names down there
at the employment office. I worked with him some. He shore don’t wash hisself
offen nuff.
“Sounds like him. Did you two get along okay?”
“Cain’t hardly say. He seemed stand-offish. Didn’t talk much. Some of the guys made fun of him because of his clothes, the smell and all.”
“Sounds like Lloyd, alright. He doesn’t have much to say. He’s pretty shy, I’d say. Just like you, Rufus.”
“Hah! Hah! That’s a good one, Chief Morning. Jes like me. I’s bout the least-shy man that I know of.”
“So I remember. Maybe you could teach Lloyd something about not being quite so shy, among other things.”
“What’s he goin say bout bein partners with the likes of me?”
“Guess we’ll have to find that out. It’s something I decided to put aside until I talked with you. Didn’t know your present circumstances or whether you would even consider it, or not.”
“Oh, I’s consider it. You can bet on that. I likes to work. I’s maybe old and some crippled, but I’s willin to work. Ain’t hankerin for that well-fare stuff. Never had anything to do with it. Neither have any of my kids. I taught em different from that.”
“That’s one reason I am here. You are a good man, a good worker, a good father and a solid citizen, that’s for sure. Glad to hear that your children have turned out well. Given your early troubles, that is great news.”
“Yeah, you’se right bout my early career with trouble. Glad I’s left that all behind before sumthin real bad happened.”
“So I’ll talk to Lloyd about it. See what he has to say. He’ll take a bit of convincing, if what I know about him is right.”
“I’s ain’t goin no where; I’s be right here.”
The two men got up and started walking toward George’s car.
“Good enough. Here’s my card. If you change your mind before I get back in touch with you, give me a call. If I find out that Lloyd won’t do it, I will give you a call. Otherwise, if Lloyd says ‘okay,’ I’ll line up the pickup. Then, we’ll have a meeting. Fair enough?”
“They’s yard work aplenty, year-‘round in this here city. That’s for sure. Never thought ‘bout it, though. People down here in this part of town don’t do much with they’s yards. Too ‘spensive, I reckon.”
“Yes, I expect you are right. In some parts of town, there is plenty of year-around yard work. I’ll be in touch, one way or the other. Bye, Rufus.”
“Bye, Chief Morning.”
George walked around to the back of Eric’s house. Lloyd was on his hands and knees at the edge of one of the flowerbeds. Lloyd gets up as he saw George approaching.
“Hello, Lloyd, how are you doing?” George smiled as he said this and held out his hand, which Lloyd shook briefly and with some hesitation.
“Jes’ fine, Chief Morning. Doin’ jes fine. ‘Bout to finish all the work that Dr. Meldrum has for me. Reckon that will send me back to the ‘ployment office.”
“Maybe, maybe not, Lloyd. Lloyd do you remember Rufus Sprinkles? He said you two worked together some out of the employment office.”
“Don’t rightly ‘member him. Kept to myself, mostly, on the jobs,” Lloyd answered after a thoughtful delay.
“Yes, that’s what Rufus said about you. He remembers you, though. Rufus is quite a bit older than you are. He has lots of gray hair. He walks with a limp. Talks a lot. Very outgoing. He is a black man.” George waited to see what Lloyd would say.
“Might know who he is, if I was to see him. Seems like I do ‘member him now that you told me what he looks like. ‘Specially ‘member that he talked a lot, even to me.” Lloyd actually smiled.
“Lloyd, do you think that you and Rufus could work on lawns together?” As George finished saying this, Lloyd took a step back, as if in utter amazement.
“Don’t rightly understand. Ain’t ‘nuff here to keep me busy – leastwise not as busy as I would like to . . . er, need to be.”
“I understand that, if it was just Josselyn and Dr. Meldrum. But both my daughter and Eric have said that a number of their neighbors would like to have a good, reliable yardman on a year-around basis. It’s the same in my neighborhood. By my estimate, there must be at least twenty yards you could do.”
“’Bout twenty, you say? That would sure ‘nuff keep me busy. How would I get to these jobs? Why would they want someone like me?”
“Oh, to begin with, my daughter, Eric and myself would line them up for you. We would take you around and introduce you. From then on, it would be up to you. That’s where Rufus figures into the equation. He would drive you and help you with some of the light work. It would be up to the two of you to make the subsequent arrangements for times, payment and all of the other business aspects.”
“Ain’t never done nuthin’ like that. Reckon I ain’t never
even thought ‘bout it. Sounds like it might be more’n a dummy like me
could do.
“You may be underestimating yourself, Lloyd. Besides, well, that’s partly
where Rufus comes in. He could do the driving, help with the scheduling and with
all of the other things until you gained the knowledge and the confidence. You and
Rufus could buy my old pickup. That way, you could do more jobs in a day, a week
and a month.” George studied Lloyd’s reactions as he said this.
“Chief Morning, you shore got a lot of faith in that Mr. Sprinkles and me. Don’t know where you come up with that faith. Not shore I deserves it.” Lloyd looked down and shuffled his feet.
“Well, for one thing, Lloyd, I have seen what your work is like right here at my daughter’s and Eric’s yards. For another, my daughter and Dr. Meldrum think you could do it, if you put your mind to it. They think you deserve the opportunity and that you can be trusted to do good work for others, just like you have done here. Their recommendations, plus what I have seen with my own eyes and what I have found out about you from the employment office and from Ralph at the gravel company, are good enough for me.” George smiled and took Lloyd by the elbow as he said this.
“What’s Mr. Sprinkles have to say ‘bout all this?” Lloyd asked.
“He thinks it might be a good idea. He would like to meet with you. The two of you could talk it over. If both of you are still interested, the five of us, my daughter, Dr. Meldrum, Rufus, you and myself could have a meeting. We could talk things over. We could lay out the financial aspects. Things like that.” George continued to study Lloyd’s reactions.
“Gosh! That all shore sounds deep; it’s not for a dummy like’s of me.” Lloyd breathed a deep sigh.
“Lloyd, it just seems more complicated than it is because you have never done anything like it before. It’s like most things. Once you start doing it, it will become second nature. Sort of like riding a bicycle.”
“Shore never rode no bike.” Lloyd shrugged and looked at his shoes.
“Well, think of it like the yard work here. You hadn’t done that before you came up a few Sundays ago. You started right in and pretty soon you were doing it all: lawns and flowerbeds. Same thing with scheduling and doing more lawns. Bingo. You and Rufus are in the yard business. Maybe landscaping, too.” George stepped back and held his hands out in an encompassing circle.
“You say so, it must be so, Chief Morning. ‘Bein’ Chief and all, you must know a heap ‘bout lot’sa things.”
“No more than the average citizen, Lloyd. No more than that.”
“Chief Morning, when do you want me to talk to Mr. Sprinkles? I don’t rightly know where he lives or how to find him.”
“I’ll handle that, Lloyd. And I will also arrange a meeting for the five of us, if all goes well when you and Rufus have had your chat. In fact, if you’re finished, like you said, we could go see Rufus today. Set a time and place for the meeting and get this thing wrapped up in no time.”
Josh, Eric, George, Rufus and Lloyd are sitting around Josh’s dining room table. They have been talking for some time, going over the business plan and all of the ‘ins’ and outs’ of the finances.
George pushed his chair back from the table, looked at each of those present and says, “So, it looks like here is where we are. Rufus and Lloyd will buy the pickup from me. Rufus will be the driver, at least for now. Lloyd will do almost all of the heavy yard and garden work. Rufus will do whatever he feels comfortable doing without further injuring or straining himself.”
The group all nodded in assent, except Lloyd, who looked down at the table.
George continued. “We figure that between the three of us, Josh, Eric and myself, we can line up about twenty neighbors to start off. We’ll build that list up slowly, as Lloyd and Rufus adjust to working together and as timing develops. Most of the people we know will want both lawn and flowerbed work. So, we are probably, eventually, looking at 20 times $40, on the average, per week.”
Josh did some quick figuring in a notebook. “Let’s see, 20 times $40 is $800 per week. Dad, Rufus and Lloyd will pay you monthly for the pickup, based on what they earn each month. Most of the people we talked to don’t own lawn mowers and other yard or garden tools. For the time being, Eric and I will loan Lloyd and Rufus our stuff. My mower is a Honda; it’s one of the best. We surely have enough other tools for any and all of the jobs they will have to do. Later, Lloyd and Rufus can buy equipment – as they need it – and work out the ownership of such equipment.”
Eric chimed in. “Sounds like the finances add up and make sense to me, at least on paper. How about you, Rufus?”
Rufus stroked his chin for a couple of seconds as he looked at Lloyd, first, and then at Josh, George and Eric. “Sounds mighty good. $800 a week, times four and one-half weeks add up to . . . well, let’s say $3,500 a month. That’s big money compared to what Lloyd and I are used to. ‘Course we gotta pay the Chief for the pickup and pay for gas, oil and other expenses for the pickup and gas and other expenses for the mower and the other equipment. Then, Lloyd and me has to decide how we’s gonna divide what’s left. He’ll git more’n me cause he’s gonna do most of the physical work.”
“Rufus,” Josh began again. “Don’t forget that both you and Lloyd will have to pay income tax out of your shares. You’ll need to set up a schedule and pay quarterly. Then, there is the matter of insurance, both for the pickup and for the business.”
“Of course,” Rufus said. “I hadn’t thought ‘bout them expenses. Guess that’s why you and Chief Morning and Dr. Meldrum are helping us out until we learn all of that ourselves.”
Eric cleared his throat and said, “Sure it is. I have had my own consulting, psychotherapy and writing business for many years. My accountant can help us create a set of books for the business. Won’t cost much and good books are the key to any successful business.”
Lloyd had been sitting in obvious doubt and confusion, clearly all that was being said was far beyond his comprehension. Most of the time, his head was downcast, as if he were studying the grain in the wood of the table.
Suddenly, he spoke. “Don’t see how a moron like me can ever git anythin’ complicated as this through my head. Jes don’t know how.” With that he let out a big sign.
Eric reached over and gave Lloyd a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Believe me, Lloyd, it won’t be as difficult as it might sound to you now. It won’t take all that long for you to start to pick up the basics. Meantime, all of us – but especially Rufus – will give you all of the help that you need. Why just look at all of the progress you have made over the past few weeks. Trust me, Lloyd, I know that you can do it. We all do. And, deep down, so do you. That’s what doing the yard work for Josh and for me is all about and what the even harder work that we do in my office is all about.”
“Dr. Meldrum,” as Lloyd said this he seemed to perk up and show some confidence. “If you say so, it must be so. I’ll shore give it my best try.”
“Good for you, Lloyd.” Josh, Eric and George said it almost simultaneously. George continued, “That’s all anyone can do. I think the five of us, for a short while, can more than do this. A bit later, Rufus and Lloyd will want to do it all by them selves; and, by golly, they’ll be able to. They will succeed at this. I’ll bet money and the pickup truck on it!”
Somewhere along the way, Lloyd went from ‘Miz Morning to ‘Josh.’ Neither Josh nor Lloyd could remember it happening. It just did. The weekly lawn and flowerbed care continued, as did the iced tea breaks. Gradually, Lloyd relaxed more and more and their tea break conversations widened.
Lloyd did not tell Josh about the courses he was taking. He wanted the results to come forth before he mentioned them. Besides, his early performance in each course was something of a disaster, albeit a salvageable disaster in that he ended with good to excellent grades.
He was a fast learner. He had a good mind. It was a lifetime of self-degradation and lack of any early experiences that did ought but convince him that he was mentally deficient and doomed to a life of frustration, poverty and unfulfillment that raised the early barriers in each class. Once fully involved in the classes – and with the newly minted confidences gained from his sessions with Eric and from the successes with the yard business – Lloyd gained the necessary momentum to do well.
The two-man yard business flourished. So did the relationship between Lloyd and Dr. Meldrum and Lloyd and Rufus Sprinkles. Each of the older men, in his way, influenced Lloyd in enormously positive ways, Eric with the hypnosis and other therapy and Rufus with his practical knowledge and his voluble personality and way of interacting with people. Eventually, even Dr. Meldrum became ‘Eric,’ for Lloyd.
At first, Josh, Eric and George lined up the work for Lloyd and Rufus. The three took care to ensure that the expansion of the business was slow and steady, with just enough growth to stretch Lloyd to the maximum of work and the attendant stresses that the growing responsibilities required.
Rufus took the growth in stride. His overall health improved. He limped less, even as he increased the amount of physical work that he did. He enjoyed the expanding roll that he played, both the driving and the interactions with Lloyd.
Rufus and Eric met on several occasions, usually as Eric’s request. During the sessions, Eric sized up how Lloyd was doing and made suggestions that Rufus could follow, or not. Usually, Rufus took the suggestions to heart. He understood and appreciated what Eric was trying to accomplish with and for Lloyd.
Josh and Eric also talked at length about Lloyd as the months passed. In talking with Rufus and Josh, though, Eric maintained strict limits of what he could and could not say about the therapy sessions with Lloyd.
Early on, the most dramatic changes were in Lloyd’s physical appearance. His clothes were no longer ragged and dirty. At first, he wore the clothes that Josh provided. That soon changed. He began buying his own work clothes. He shaved regularly and, obviously, bathed on a regular basis. He started getting regular haircuts. His emaciated appearance changed as he put on some much needed weight.
In part the changes were due to the fact that Lloyd now had a steady income, one that more than met his basic needs, even though he continued to give money to his sister and brother-in-law. However, he no longer just gave them money. Instead, he bought food for them and helped them with other household expenses. In this way, Lloyd made sure that none of the money he provided went for booze. His sister sobered up and even Calvin, the brother-in-law, got and kept a steady, part time job. Eric offered both of them counseling sessions; both declined the offer. They didn’t “want no shrink messin’ with their heads.”
So, it was no surprise to Josh when she asked Lloyd to come over for a Friday night dinner and he accepted. The surprise came when he showed up with a small bouquet of flowers from a supermarket and in clothes that Josh had never seen. Lloyd had on a dress shirt – no tie – casual trousers and a sport jacket. Josh tried her best not to over-react with her comments, but it was almost more than she could manage.
After the meal, they took a walk around the neighborhood, for a ‘breath of fresh air. During the walk, Josh again thanked Lloyd for the flowers and remarked on how nice he looked. They talked about the nice weather, the lawn and garden business and the differences a few months could make in a person’s life. Lloyd kept up his part of the conversation surprisingly well. Some of Lloyd’s adeptness was due to Eric’s posthypnotic suggestions, though neither Josh nor Lloyd could know that.
Back at the house, Josh put a movie on and they watched that. It was a romantic comedy. After the movie and cup of tea, there was some awkwardness when Lloyd got up to leave. Josh decided that Lloyd could not make up his mind between a handshake and a good night kiss. Josh stepped forward and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. That seemed to dispel the awkwardness. She gave him a light kiss on the lips as they said good night at the door.
The Friday night dates became a regular part of the week. Sometimes, a Saturday or Sunday night date was ‘thrown in’ for good measure. The casual good night kiss was replaced by ‘hello’ kisses, kisses during the movies – whether at home or at a movie complex – and increasingly passionate good night kisses.
Rufus pulled into the guest parking spot at the front of a modest apartment building. It is early in the morning. Before he can turn the pickup’s motor off, a rejuvenated Lloyd stepped out of an upstairs apartment, closed and locked the door and walked quickly and confidently down the stairs. He got into the pickup. Rufus drove away. Lloyd is heavier by about 20 pounds; he is dressed in neat work clothes. He is clean-shaven. In short, he is an entirely different man in appearances and in mannerisms.
Rufus started the conversation: “We have a full day ahead of us. You sure you want that driving lesson tonight? You are almost ready to take the test, so you could take tonight off.”
“Yeah, good idea, Rufus. Think I will take tonight off. I’ve got a humdinger of a test coming up in English. Better hit the books tonight and tomorrow night, too. Maybe we can take this rig out to the country for a final lesson on Sunday.”
Rufus laughed. “Come on over and have Sunday dinner with us. We’ll be home from church about one o’clock. Probably eat around two. Then, we can take this thing out for an hour or two.”
Lloyd pulled a small notebook and a ballpoint pen out of his shirt pocket. “What should I bring as my contribution to the dinner?”
Rufus thought for a minute. “This time, nothin.’ You furnished darned near the whole meal last time. Even your cooking is improving.”
Lloyd skimmed through the small notebook. He made several short entries.
“Gosh, Rufus, we do have a lot to do today. It’s a good thing the places where we are going to work are all close together. With a little luck and not much driving time between jobs, I think we will be done at about the right time.”
Rufus pulled up to the curb and stopped in front of a large house. Lloyd jumped out, put on a pair of slick leather gloves, dropped the tailgate and lifted a lawnmower out of the bed and set it on the ground.
Rufus was already trimming some bushes at the side of the house when Lloyd pulled on the starting cord and began to cut the lawn. Lloyd whistled softly as he works; but, of course, that cannot be heard above the roar of the lawnmower’s engine.
After Lloyd prepared and ate a quick, evening meal back in his apartment, he did the dishes, visited the bathroom, picked up some books and headed out the door. He unlocked a cord and retrieved a bike from under the stairs, put the books in a saddlebag and pedaled away.
Lloyd parked the bike in a rack in front of a large school building, locked the bike and walked briskly in. As he entered a classroom and took a seat in the front row, an attractive young woman was sitting behind the teacher’s desk in the front of the room. The woman looked up, smiled and spoke to him.
“Mr. Daggett, may I speak to you for a few minutes after class?”
“Yes, Ms Lockman, of course. Lloyd’s manner is matter-of-fact. His tone is one of confidence. There is no trace of hesitancy or of uncertainty.
As the bell sounded to begin class, Ms Lockman began handing back tests from the previous class period. As she handed a test back to Lloyd, she smiled again. Almost in a whisper she said, “Another excellent job, Mr. Daggett. You have made remarkable progress.”
“Thank you, Ms Lockman. I appreciate your saying so.”
When the bell rang for the end of the class period, all of the students but Lloyd rushed out. He sauntered up the teacher’s desk.
“Well, Mr. Daggett, I am turning in an “A” grade for you. You did an outstanding job after a rather shaky start. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, Ms Lockman. I surely did start out poorly; then, it just all started making sense to me. Guess most of it was your teaching and a fine textbook.”
“As much as I would like to take credit, I am afraid I can’t do that. At least not much. I think it was your willingness to study hard, to ask for help and to benefit from – shall we say ‘suggestions’ that I made. Your aptitude, motivation and hard work deserve most of the credit.”
“Ms Lockman, I certainly did enjoy the class. You are a fine teacher. Thank you. I have to get going. I have some work to do for the final project in my accounting class.” With that, Lloyd turned and started for the door.
“Wait. What are your plans? Are you going to be taking more courses here? I teach an advanced English course and a literature class next term. What I mean is, will I be seeing you in class or around the school?”
“Maybe around the school. But not immediately. Our business is growing so fast that I won’t have time for any more English courses. I surely do need a literature class, but it, too, will have to wait. I will be taking another accounting class, but not next term. So, I guess it’s ‘goodbye’ for some time.”
“Look, Mr. Daggett, may I call you Lloyd? Here’s my card. Give me a call, if you want. Maybe we could get together for lunch. Discuss your plans. Get to know one another. Soon?”
“Between my business and personal life, I keep really, really busy. I have girlfriend and my business is expanding faster than I would like. However, I appreciate your offer and I will keep your card. Thank you.” With that, Lloyd turned and strode out of the classroom. He had a broad smile on his face, but he did not look back.
It was late in the evening. Rufus and Lloyd were in a hurry to finish their last job of the day. It was a day when little had gone as planned. One of the mowers wouldn’t start. They had to go Josh’s and borrow hers. Hers was the mower they used during the early months of the partnership. But, as soon as they could afford to do so, they bought their own equipment: mowers, edgers, trimmers, the ‘whole nine yards’ as Rufus was won’t to say.
Rufus finished trimming a hedge as Lloyd swept the back walkway. That was when Lloyd noticed two people coming out of the back door of the house across the back wall. That was one of Lloyd’s customers, too. He knew that the couple was on vacation.
Each of the figures carried what appeared to be a black, plastic garbage bag. The pair looked like a man and a woman and seemed to be in a great hurry. Their faces did not seem right to Lloyd. He took a second look.
“That’s funny,” he said aloud but quietly. “Those two don’t seem to have faces. How could that be?”
Hey!” Lloyd yelled. What are you two doing over there. Mr. and Mrs. Folken are on vacation.”
The man turned toward Lloyd. Lloyd saw that the man had on some sort of mask. As the man turned back and started to run, he ran into the second person. Something clattered onto the driveway. That was followed by an even louder sound and a shout from the man. Then, both were out of sight.
Just the week before, Lloyd and George talked about the cat burglar that was hitting houses in the area. Lloyd immediately thought of the conversation.
Lloyd leaped over the back wall and sprinted toward the front of the house. He got to the street in time to see a car speed away. Lloyd squinted. He made out part of the license number and he got a good look at the car.
He turned, ran back to the wall, put one hand on it and vaulted over it, and ran around to where Rufus was sitting in the truck. Lloyd tossed the broom in the truck and got in. As he did so, Rufus started the engine.
“Quick! Drive around the block. Something funny happened at the house just behind this one. I think it’s important that we try to see what it is.”
Rufus put the truck in gear and drove around the block. Rufus parked in front of the Folken’s house and he and Lloyd got out of the truck. The two men walked over to the driveway where the couple ran from. Rufus stooped down and picked up a large tray. “Whoa. Looks like we have somethin’ pretty valuable here. Looks to be silver.”
Lloyd walked on and picked up a large garbage sack. He reached in and pulled something out. “Yeah. Look at this. If it’s real, it could be pricey. I think that couple was up to no good.”
Lloyd whipped out his cell phone, found George’s number and punched the call button. George answered on the fourth ring.
“George, this is Lloyd. I think the cat burglars were just here at the Folken house across the alley from the yard Rufus and me were doing. I could be wrong, but it looks suspicious. They dropped a big tray and a garbage bag with what looks like a fancy coffee pot and some other things before they sped away, north, on Montevista.” He gave George a description of the car, the partial license number and his location.
“Your welcome, George. Yes, Rufus and I can wait here until the police arrive. I’ll call Josh and tell her that I might be late for our dinner date. Will you call me there if anything develops?”
*****Josh and Lloyd were watching a movie when the doorbell rang. Josh got up, went to the door, looked through the peephole and quickly opened the door.
“Chief Morning, this is a special surprise. Come on in, Dad. What brings you to this neck of the woods tonight? I thought you would be at Bingo.”
“Not tonight, Josselyn. Police work kept me away.”
As they talked, Lloyd approached.
“Well, hero, I came by to congratulate you in person. That was some sighting you made. What with the description of the getaway car and with the partial license number, the police were able to find both the car and its driver.”
“That’s great, Dad. Lloyd, I’m so proud of you.”
“Not so fast, Josselyn. There’s more. The good part is yet to come. Once they discovered that the getaway car probably belonged to Matt Shoen . . . “
“Matt Shoen, Josh, gasped. It belonged to Matt?”
“Wow,” was all Lloyd could manage to say.
“Once they discovered that, they got a search warrant and went immediately to Matt’s place. Matt and some woman were there. When the police searched Matt’s apartment, they found a number of things that had been taken in previous burglaries and some things from the house they hit today. Open and shut case. Matt and the woman are in jail and the police and the District Attorney are making arrangements to file burglary and other charges. As it turns out, the woman is an ex-con with several previous convictions for mostly petty crimes.”
Josh turned and hugged Lloyd. “Lloyd, if you hadn’t become suspicious, acted as you did and so fast, it would have been just another of the many unsolved cases.”
“That’s about it, Lloyd. What Josselyn says is true. But, there’s more. It turns out there is a reward. Looks like you are going to get it.”
“Rufus deserves half. He got that truck started and around the corner quicker than you could say ‘boo.’ I’ll split whatever the reward is with him; after all, we are partners all the way.”
“Don’t you even want to know how much?” George asked.
“Don’t matter none. My half will go to savings or back into the business. I’m sure that whatever it is, Rufus will put his half to good use.”
“Come on, Dad. Quit stalling. How much is it?”
“Ten Thousand, at least. Maybe more when the police double check the Crime Stopper reward records. That ain’t hay, as the saying goes. I think there will also be a story in the paper, probably with a picture. The Mayor will certainly want to turn this to his political advantage. The press will have a hay-day with it: Cop Turns to Life of Crime. Something like that. Most of the burglaries were in the area where Matt was one of the regular patrol officers. Not a very good reflection on the department, I’m afraid. You know how it is: One bad apple spoils the whole barrel.”
“Oh, Lloyd. Think of it.” Josh gave Lloyd another big hug and a kiss.
Lloyd looked at Chief Morning. He was flustered and embarrassed by Josh’s show of affection in front of her father.
“Well, it’s time for me to go. I still might make the last few Bingo games over at the church. Besides, I expect you two will want to break out a celebratory cup of tea – maybe something even a little stronger.” With that, George hugged his daughter, shook hands with Lloyd and left.
“Like Dad said, Lloyd, $10,000 isn’t hay. You mentioned a savings account. That’s great. I didn’t know you had started one. I thought most of what you earned, for now, was going back into the business.”
“It is for the business, in a way. There’s a lot more work available than Rufus and I can handle. I figure we could buy another complete outfit (truck, trailer, mowers . . . the works) and hire a second crew. Rufus and I can split up, until we get the new guys trained to do the work the way we want it done. Pay ‘em so much for a job well done and save the profits for a third outfit. There’s at least enough work right in this part of town for three crews.”
“Whoa! Lloyd, I think that’s wonderful. From what little I have heard, you certainly have made a success of the business so far. What gave you the idea of expanding?”
“Mostly, it was the number of people who contacted us about work. We had to turn them down. We are already doing more than we should, what with Rufus’ age and health and all. He doesn’t complain, but I can see that gets overly tired, even by mid-afternoon. I do as much as I can, but he certainly does his share, too, and then some.”
“I’ve noticed how much worse Rufus’ limp is when you come in the afternoon, versus when you do the yard in the morning. I have no idea how old he is, but he must be somewhat older than Dad.”
“It isn’t only his age. He had some hard knocks through the years. He bunged that knee up pretty bad a couple of times. Getting into the business really perked him up, at first. He really enjoyed the work and seeing the business flourish, and all. Now, I think he is getting overly tired too much of the time. It’s taking a toll on him. I aim to talk to him about just driving and not doing any of the yard work. That might help, but I don’t think he will buy it. He’s one proud man; honest and fair, too. I don’t want to imply that he’s not a full partner and not doing his fair share. I have been meaning to talk to Eric to see what his thoughts are. Cutting down on his part of the work might be harder on him than getting too tired is.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right. Talking to Eric is a good idea. That man has a world of experience. And he certainly knows what being infirm is all about, Lloyd. If there is a right way to handle the situation, I suspect Eric will have some answers. Or, at least, some perspective.”
“Course, if Rufus is supervising and training the new crew, he might view that as something even more valuable than just doing the work. Approaching it that way might just do it.”
Lloyd was wearing wingtips shoes, dress slacks, a button-down shirt, a tie and a sport jacket. His hair was neatly cut. He was clean-shaven. In short, he looked nothing like he had a little over a year previously. Rufus was similarly dressed, though not quite so well turned-out.
The Mayor’s news conference was set for 3:00 p.m. Just at the right time to catch the evening TV news programs and in plenty of time to make the morning edition of the major newspaper.
Eric, George and Josh were there. Lloyd and Rufus had already been interviewed by the TV and radio people and by the city hall reporter. The Mayor’s assistant went through the routine of the ceremony as sort of a dress rehearsal. Other than the media people and the Mayor’s opponent and her entourage, the police chief and other city functionaries there was only a smattering of curious on-lookers.
A few minutes after the news conference was scheduled to begin, the Mayor entered the room and began shaking hands with anyone and everyone he could get close to. He was running behind in the polls and needed every boost he could get, if he was to be re-elected.
Finally, he stepped up to the front of the assemblage. Relative quiet settled on the room.
One of his aides brought a large mock-up of a check into the room. The amount of the check was $11,250. One of the Mayor’s aides ushered Lloyd and Rufus to the front of the room and deftly manipulated Lloyd on the Mayor’s right and Rufus on the Mayor’s left.
“Ladies and gentlemen, fellow citizens,” the Mayor began. “It is my privilege to recognize two public-spirited citizens. For longer than I care to mention an area of our fair city was haunted by a series of clever thefts. Early on, the media described these thefts as the work of a cat burglar. I suppose they did so as to best characterize the modus operandi of the perpetrators.
“Diligent and excellent police work failed to solve the crimes, except for a couple of amateur jobs that were patterned after the cat burglar crimes. Months went by and frustration and dissatisfaction grew.
“As it turns out, one reason our splendid men in blue did not solve these crimes and apprehend the perpetrator – perpetrators, as it turned out – is because one of the burglars was a police officer. He was assigned to the precinct where most of the offenses were committed.
“Then, by a stroke of good fortune, these two public-spirited citizens saw two people leave a house under what appeared to them to be suspicious circumstances. They hurriedly drove around the block and got a good look at the car that the cat burglars used as their get-away vehicle. They even got most of the car’s license plate number.
That led to the arrest of Officer Matt Shoen and his accomplice, a woman with a police record. The District Attorney filed multiple charges. Officer Shoen confessed to numerous incidences and is now serving a prison term.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, may I introduce Lloyd Daggett and Rufus Sprinkles.”
There was a hearty round of applause as the Mayor shook hands with Rufus, first, and Lloyd, second.
“This mock-up,” the Mayor continued. “Represents the total for several rewards that were offered. Lloyd and Rufus will receive checks totaling this amount.” With that, the Mayor took the mock-up and held it up to his chest. An aide encouraged Lloyd and Rufus to stand close to the Mayor, to look at the cameras and to smile.
Lloyd was clearly somewhat uncomfortable. Rufus was in his element.
With that, the Mayor shook each man’s hand once more, turned on his heel and left the room. There was a second round of applause as he exited.
The story was featured on all of the evening TV and radio news programs. It was a front-page story, complete with a large photograph, in the newspaper. A talk-show host asked them to appear on his program. Rufus accepted the invitation and was effective. Lloyd declined, indicating that Rufus could more than adequately speak for both of them.
That evening, Lloyd took Josh out to dinner. It was one of the city’s premier restaurants. They were in a private booth and sitting side-by-side. Just before the desserts were brought to the table, Lloyd took a small but elegant box out of his pocket, put it on a small plate and pushed it on the table in front of Josh. She opened the box. Inside was an engagement ring. She picked the ring out and held it up.
“Lloyd, is this what it appears to be?”
“Yes, it is an engagement ring. Will you marry me?” Lloyd asked.
“Only if you will take the ring and put it on my finger yourself.”
Lloyd took the ring and slipped it on Josh’s finger. They kissed: once, twice, three times.
“Of course, I’ll marry you. I was beginning to wonder if you would ever ask. I have been ready to say ‘yes’ for quite some time. Well, maybe not the first time you came over to the house, but certainly by the time you and Rufus decided to expand the business.
“You have certainly made great strides, Lloyd. Not many men could have done all that you have, especially in such a short time.”
“Have to give most of the credit to Eric, to you, to your Dad and to Rufus. Without all of the help that each of you gave me, I guess I would still be working for next to nothing, wearing dirty, stinking clothes and having skinned up and chapped hands. I may never know all that Eric told me when I was hypnotized. But whatever it was must have been some pretty deep and powerful things. Whatever it was seemed to open up vast horizons of opportunity and tap things I did not know lay within me.”
Lloyd leaned over and kissed Josh, just as the waiter arrived with the desserts.
“Ahem. I can bring these back later, if that would be more convenient,” the waiter said.
“Now’s fine,” Lloyd answered. The couple held hands under the table as they ate their desserts.
“Do you want to set a date?” Lloyd asked.
“Yes! The sooner the better. Tonight would not be too soon for me; how about you?”
“Well, I figured you would want to have a church wedding and a reception afterwards. I know all of that takes time. I want you to have all of the formal aspects of a wedding. But, you are right about one thing, tonight wouldn’t be any too soon for me, either.”
Both seemed to be in a hurry to get back to Josh’s house.
Author Note: Hal Mansfield was born in Fort Collins, Colorado. After serving in the U. S. Army, he graduated from Colorado State University, in 1958. He received his Ph.D. from The University of Denver, in 1974. In 1993, he retired from Fort Lewis College, where he taught psychology, statistics and writing for 18 years. In addition to fiction writing, part of his retirement regimen includes researching, thinking through, and writing about critical contemporary social issues. After a “life-time” in Colorado, including the last 31 years in Durango, he recently moved to Green Valley, Arizona, but is spending the summer of 2006 in the foothills west of Loveland, Colorado. Some of his writing efforts, including letters to the editor, have appeared in “The Durango Herald” since the mid-1970s, as well as in” Solar Age Magazine,” “crimemagazine.com” and “Crossroads: A Journal of the Southwest.”