The Bear in a Muddy Tutu (20 page)

Slim Weatherwax woke up scared to death someone had up and buried him alive in the night again. His fourth and final wife, Missy Delilah, had conspired with her half
brother to dig a hole out behind Slim’s barn and then drag the drunk
en
, passed
-
out Slim into the muddy grave. Missy Delilah and Slim had only met a few weeks prior, and the relationship had been of the whirlwind variety, to say the least.

It had been a marriage of convenience in so much as Slim needed a woman to cook his meals, while Missy Delilah had been looking for a semi-responsible, home-owning man who she could kill and take over his house
,
or so
he would later come to understand
.

Missy Delilah secretly hated to cook, which led to a few bumps in her scheme, as well as the end of their marriage. She quickly grew impatient, jumping the gun by trying to bury Slim before he was
sufficiently
soused to stay in the hole.
Missy Delilah had been kind enough to fill Slim in on all her pent
-
up hate during their final night together out by what was supposed to be Slim
’s final resting place
.

The plan might have also gone smoother if she’d waited for her half
-
brother to arrive at the scene of the crime, since he probably would have had
done a better job of
hitting Slim with the shovel as he climbed up the side of the muddy hole.

“What the hell you doin’, Missy Delilah?
”
Slim asked, spitting out manure-tainted dirt, having regained consciousness during the burial process.

“You stay dead, Slim!
”
she shouted down at him. “I w
ent to a whole lot
ta trouble.
”

“Help me outta here,
”
Slim pleaded, clawing his way up the side of the four-foot deep hole
that
was pretty well lit by the floodlight he’d installed over the old barn’s back door.

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere!
”
she hollered, giving up on shoveling to turn the long handled tool into a deadly weapon. Missy Delilah held the shovel high over her head,
slamming it down with a whoosh and wet smack in the dirt next to Slim’s head.

“You almost hit me!
”
T
he quart of whiskey he’d recently tossed back,
along with his pants being loaded up with heavy dirt,
made climbing
a slippery business; he felt like
a deer navigating a frozen pond.

“Ho
ld still, Slim.
”
She used her sweetest voice
and
took
two shorter swings, both also near-misses.

Slim retreated from this whack-a-mole game with his crazy new wife. “I thought you loved me
.
”
He
sat
with his long legs crossed under him in the center of the hole, feeling a bit sad and defeated, despite having survived so far.
He’d never gotten
any sort of handle on the whole marriage thing.

All the dragging, shoveling, and whacking had taken its toll on the new bride, and she
,
too
,
needed a break. Missy Delilah slumped down on the hump of earth
that
had been removed to create the hole
. From the way she handled
the shovel
, he could tell she had
a hand coated in new blisters.

“Ain’t nobody could love a man like you, Slim,
”
she said down into the hole. “You didn’t even bother to shower when we went to the preacher. You goes to work, then comes home drunk, only to park your boney carcass in front of the TV and start drinkin’ some more. And you got a naked whore tattooed on your chest!
”

“Sunshine,
”
Slim said from the hole.

“What?
”

“The tattoo is a picture of my first wife, Sunshine.
”

“I hate you, Slim Weatherwax!
”
Missy Delilah
began
balling her eyes out. The shovel dropped
from
her hand.

“It’s okay,
”
Slim said. “I mostly hate me, too.
”

In Atlantic City,
Slim had slept through the noise of Enrique’s cannon blast. He wasn’t even stirred by all the screa
ms and hollering
as the ornery tiger tore apart the poor old Pisani brothers. Slim had never trusted big cats, what with how they sprayed piss everywhere and, well, had a tendency to go nuts and kill people. Not in a million years would his Gracie have hurt a flea
—
and she had plenty
—
let alone a human being.

Slim wished he hadn’t also slept through the gunshot that blew a hole in the nasty cat, but he
’d been
sleeping like a baby when the shit hit the fan in the parking lot. A total whiskey, beer, a
nd gin
-
sodden baby, that was
.

Slim woke up confused as hell, pinned underneath several hundred pounds of tent canvas. It hadn’t been laid out and rolled like it was supposed to be but instead
had been
hurriedly
crammed in the back of the storage truck. The storage truck held the soft egg crate packaging, which made it
a
perfect spot to nestle in with a bottle or two
and
avoid any extra last-minute chores. The old saying of being out of sight, out of mind, was music to Slim’s ears. The foam matting had also saved him from being crushed because it had allowed his long, thin body to sink down under the heavy weight of the canvas. He also couldn’t budge an inch until a couple of the go
f
ers started unloading the truck the next morning.

Slim climbed down the metal truck steps into a blazing sun, immediately regretting he hadn’t saved a little hair of the dog. It got that way, though. As the years rolled on, you just drank until it was gone. Back in the good old days, you sometimes passed out with a little something left in the bottle.

Slim blew his nose on his sleeve and walked down toward the water to take a piss. His fifty-something
-y
ear
-
old body felt twice that,
and he knew the
ache in his neck was going to hang around for days. But there was nothing new about waking up not knowing where the Christ he was. Hell, since his fourth wife had kept his house
in the divorce
and turned him into a confirmed bachelor, Slim rarely knew or gave a crap where he woke up. And most days, he didn’t even care
if
he woke up at all.

Shaking off the last of the piss, Slim stuffed his pecker back in
the roost
and went to check Gracie’s cage on one of the big trucks. He felt bad not tucking her in, but she knew how to open the latch and mooch a drink from one of the dog bowls. A while back, Slim had unlocked her cage one night at the end of a week-long bender. He’d climbed inside and slept like a baby for two whole days and just never bothered with the lock again.

Everyone knew Gracie was gentle, but nobody was stupid enough
—
even when they were drunk
—
to screw around with a bear. Even a bear in a pink tutu.

It didn’t take Slim long to find her
cage empty
, but he still wasn’t all that worried. Hell, it took a load out of his workday not to be scooping out bear shit and changing the hay, since she
’d
started climbing out and finding a quiet place to do her business on her own. Not that Slim didn’t catch hell when somebody took a load of garbage to the dumpster and slid on a pile of steaming bear shit, falling on their ass.

Catching crap from some garbage monkey or ride jockey was worth it, though. And Gracie always came right back. She scared pretty easy, and being a toothless bear takes away some of your advantage
,
should you come across something wanting to fight.

Gracie knew better.

But where the hell was she? Slim put a hand up to his forehead to shade his eyes, scanning the marshy flats, looking for some big,
bent
-
over critter trying to squeeze one out. Slim took a walk around the outside perimeter of the
trucks and all the busy
setup
work going on. His head hurt too badly to call for her, but the uneasy feeling starting to well up in his gut got his feet moving.

Not by the water, and not anywhere off the gravel road. Slim marched faster, realizing they were on some sort of island made by a salt water canal slicing in an arc from the ocean inlet to the east.

“Where’s Pisani?
”
Slim asked the first clown he walked up to,
whose
old makeup stains etch
ed
a wide frown across the lower half of his face.

“Which one?
”

“Enzo,
”
Slim said impatiently. “Where’s Enzo?
”

“Dead,
”
said the clown. “Tiger killed him last night.
”

“No shit?
”

“Yeah
, no shit, Slim.
”

“Well, where’s Donato?
”

“Dead.
Tiger killed him, too.
”

“You seen Gracie?
”

“Ain’t seen her all mornin’
,
”
the clown said. “Maybe she’s off takin’ a dump.
”

“Yeah, I’m hopin’ so.
”
Slim
went to find his old Ford pickup. He’d lost his license after his seventeenth DUI a few years back, and one of the Pisani brothers had told him he had to have one of the Mexican kids drive it. Who the hell was going to clean up after
the
bear if Slim got his ass thrown in jail?

If the door was left open,
Gracie sometimes climbed up in the cab and slept on the soft vinyl bench seat. Her big old claws had torn the heck out of the seats, dirty yellow stuffing bulging out her
e
and there. But the long seat was a perfect fit for her body, and there was usually a nice cross-breeze because both side windows had been broken out long ago.

Slim Weatherwax made his shaky legs do double-time across the mucky brown grass, prayin’ to Jesus his Gracie was in his F-100 snoring away the morning.

Bagg made his way north, checking both sides of the road f
or any sign of a trave
ling circus. The smaller two lane highway
where
the caravan was last seen joined up with the Garden State Parkway for a couple miles, then split off to head back toward the shore. Bagg figured that unless the convoy intended to make a break for New York, they’d stick close to the tourist spots along the Jersey Shore.

A conspicuous, slow-moving circus procession making its way through small towns could only get so far without
being noticed by
a gas attendant or a convenience store cashier. Bagg was confident he could quickly confirm whether or not they’d taken this route.

He pulled his Jeep into a convenience store parking lot in West Tuckerton, parking in the
spot
farthest from the building.
The bear
was hunkered down in the back, still snoring.

“How’s it going?
”
Bagg asked the first boy who made eye contact with him outside the front door. The teenagers were lounging in the shade of the building’s overhang, some sitting against the brick facade, while others had upended heavy plastic milk crates for chair
s. All the boys seemed to have
cigarette
s
dangling from their mouths. Bags of partially eaten junk food and soda cans were strewn about.

“Kay,
”
said the boy. They all appeared equally bored.

“You guys happen to see a line of trucks come through here?
”

“Yeah,
”
said the boy
. H
is friends all shook their heads in agreement. “A whole shitload of semis loaded up with bulldozers,
”
the boy lied. “I think they headed down Great Bay toward the beach. Ain’t that right, Marco?
”

Marco shook his head in agreement and flicked his butt out into the parking lot to smolder.

“No, I’m looking for a different kind of trucks,
”
Bagg said. “It’s a circus. You haven’t seen a circus come through here?
”

“Oh, yeah,
”
the first boy said again, cocking his head and making an
aw
-shucks motion with his shoulders. “They rolled through right after the bulldozer trucks, right Marco?
”

“Yep, they sure did.
”

As a reporter, Bagg was naturally skeptical and caught on pretty quickly when bullshit was being directed his way. “And the circus followed the bulldozers down
…
what road was it?
”

“Great Bay Boulevard,
”
Marco answered. “You make a left out of the lot, then take the second right and keep on goin’.
”

“It kinda takes you into the middle of nowhere,
”
the first boy warned. “But that’s where they were headed.
”

“To nowhere?
”
Bagg asked.

“Yeah, well, to the middle of nowhere,
”
Marco answered and several of the boys stifled
girlish-
giggles.

“Look, guys, I have something that belon
gs to them and I
really need to track them down.
”

“You a cop?
”
One
of the boys
now
seemed
a little more interested
.
“You don’t look like no cop.
”

“I’m a reporter.
”
From inside his shirt,
Bagg
pulled the press pass he still wore on
a
chain to show the boys.

A cop would have been
much
more interesting
,
appeared to be
their reaction as they
settled
back down on their crates
. Who gave a fuck about a reporter?

“You loan me five bucks?
”
another of the boys asked, and Bagg knew this conversion was going in the wrong direction.

“I got something I can show you,
”
Bagg said, and several boys hooted.

“Hey, we got somethin’ to show you!
”
they
said in unison, laughing and grabbing at their crotches.

Just then,
the bear
let out a low roar from the far side of the lot, apparently to announce she was awake, hungry, and stuck in the back of a Jeep.

“What the
hell
you got in there, mister?
”
All the boys were suddenly on their feet.

“I told you, I have t
o find the circus. Bring that stuff.
”
Bagg
point
ed
down at the half eaten fruit pies and powdered doughnut packs
and led
the boys toward his Jeep.

The Jeep Wrangler was rocking on its spring
s
from
the great weight of its dark, hulking passenger. The boys slowed as they approached, keeping the weird reporter guy between them and whatever had let out the roar.

Bagg took the food scraps and walked to the open back window. Despite her rumbling tummy,
the bear
seemed to be hiding
from the approaching humans and
trying
to keep quiet.
But when she caught scent
of the
food
, she pressed her nose
right up
against the door hinge where there was just enough space for
odors
to
pass
through.
She
made heavy chuffing
noises
,
apparently
pulling
the scent toward her with deep, wet breaths.
She
sounded like a vacuum cleaner sucking up spilled water.

“Sounds like a giant snake,
”
Marco whispered to the other boys.

“Sounds like an alligator,
”
another
said
, as they started to crowd toward Bagg. The nearest boys in front tried to hold their ground.

“C’mon, sweetheart,
”
Bagg crooned to
the bear
, reaching in to rub the big mound of fur barely visible above the top of the door. “I have something for you.
”

The bear
pushed her way up in the tight quarters, lifting her chin over the edge of the door.

“Shit!
”
one of the boys said. “It’s got rabies!
”

“She’s just drooling,
”
Bagg
laughed
, as great gobs of bear spit ran down the back of his Jeep.
The bear
reste
d her chin on the door
. Her yellow eyes darted from boy to boy and then zeroed in on the source of
the
smell.
Bagg
was holding
a
pie in one hand, and
the bear
sent her long tongue toward
it,
letting
him know she was very interested. She let out a low, rolling moan
as if
to say “please
.
”

“Whoa,
”
one of the boys said, as Bagg cupped the fruit pie for the bear to slurp and gum.
“
It doesn’t have any teeth
.
”
The
boy
looked
as if he were
imagining
what it would be like to be eaten by a bear without teeth
,
all slurped and suck
ed down.

“I need to find her owner
.
”
Bagg
took
the rest of the doughnuts and other scraps to feed the big old bear. This bear was going to need a real meal and he figured to buy a bag of dog food from the convenience store.
Probably not gonna find anything that says bear food.

“I heard
’
em last night,
”
came a small voice from the back of the group. “I heard the trucks come past my house before the sun came up. I thought it was the county truck with the sprayer in back
, but
the noise kept getting louder and bigger, you know?
”

“Where were they headed?
”
Bagg felt the familiar old rush of getting to the real facts of a story. Politicians were really no better liars than a bunch of teenage boys hanging around outside a convenience store trying
to make
a little mischief.

“Like Marco and Chuck said. The
y went down Great Bay.
”
The boy came forward
, pushing the taller boys out of his way. “For real, though. You just keep headin’ down the Boulevard until you come to the middle of nowhere. Plenty of room for a circus to set up down there.
”

Bagg wiped the bear spit onto his jeans and then peeled two
ten
dollar bills from the thin fold of bills in his front pocket. “Go grab me a bag of dog food, would you, please? You keep the change
.
”
The
boy who’d heard the circus trucks
sprinted back to the store and through the
open
door.

The boys were now surrounding the back of the Jeep,
shoving
each other for a chance to scratch the gentle old bear.
She
closed her eyes and push
ed
her big body
as best she could
up on the reclined back seats so the boys could get to the good spots near her belly.

“Here, mister.
”
The out
-
of
-
breath boy who’d sprinted back with the twenty pound bag of dog food held it out
.

“
Thanks for your help, guys.
”

“Man, if I found a bear, I’d keep it,
”
said one of the boys.

Bagg took the dog food from the boy and propped it on the passenger seat. He pulled the strings to tear it open and then wedged it between the backseat and the side window closest to the bear.
She
buried her head inside the bag and began to gum away
at
the food. Bagg made a mental note to look for some softer
chow
, maybe the canned wet stuff, if he didn’t find her owner right away.

Bagg climbed behind the wheel and started the Jeep, as the boys slowly backed away.

“You make a left out of the lot, then the second right,
”
the boy called Marco reminded Bagg.

“It kinda takes you to the middle of nowhere,
”
Bagg finished for him, smiling. Bagg backed up the Jeep, then shifted gears and made a left into traffic and headed for nowhere.