Muddled

By TOM E. WEIGHTMAN

      Muddled is the story of a long-dormant swamp creature that reemerges from its underwater lair to do battle against the forces of change that have been wreaking havoc on its watery abode.  It is a tale of love and hate, action and suspense as those new to the area seek to uncover its secrets and solve the mystery that lay at the heart of the story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: TUX PUBLISHING
• Release date: Dec 4, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386781165

TOM E. WEIGHTMAN

Tom E. Weightman has been writing since he was a teenager, off and on, working a variety of other jobs in the process.  

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Also by TOM E. WEIGHTMAN

MUDDLED

DAYS BEYOND COMPARE

DAY OF JONAH

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This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental

This book is dedicated to those who have solved unusual problems in unusual ways

1

It was five-thirty when the first rays of dawn flashed across the blue-gray sky.  The neighborhood was quiet.  Homes up and down the street were just beginning to spark to life. 

At a single story house in the middle of the block, a couple of early risers were packing luggage to a Chevy Van parked in the driveway.  They performed their job in silence, going back and forth between the house and the van until everything was loaded.  A last-minute check verified the essentials.

Did you bring the map?

Got it.

How about the thermos?

Got that, too.

Did you leave a note?

Did that.

Good.  Let’s lock up and hit the road.

In the mists of morning, the van crawled along the dimly lit street toward the boulevard.  A sense of freedom and exhilaration gripped the couple as they rumbled through the middle-class neighborhood, leaving behind what was familiar and beginning a journey that would take them into the realms of the unknown. 

Ralph Henderson, a tall guy with bushy brown hair, lived near the college in a small apartment that was bachelor to the bone.  It was his van in which they were traveling.  Lori Smith, a small girl with long dark tresses, lived at home with her mother.  It was her house they had just left.

The couple enjoyed a convenient relationship that, so far, had been going quite well.  They met about a year ago while enrolled in a night class at college.  One evening at the start of class, Ralph asked a question that got the professor talking.  By the time all the questions that related to the original question were asked and all accompanying comments made, class was over.  Afterwards, Lori approached Ralph and expressed her awe at the insight of his question.

That was some question, she said, offering a friendly smile. 

If I knew where it was going to lead, Ralph replied, I would have never asked it.

It turned up some very interesting stones, you would have to admit, Lori said with encouragement.

I think the professor just wanted to show off his stuff, Ralph surmised.  None of what he talked about was in the book.  I hope it’s not on the exam.  I didn’t take any notes.  I was too amazed at how much time he was taking to answer it.  I didn’t think he was going to take up the entire hour of class.

I took notes, Lori responded.  Would you like a copy?

That’d be great, Ralph beamed.  After all that discussion, you’d figure I would know the answer being that I was the one who asked the stupid question in the first place.

Do you know the answer? Lori asked playfully.

I think so, Ralph replied bashfully.  But don’t put me to the test.  Let me study the notes a little.

Since the time they‘d first met, they had gotten to know each other quite well.  Lori thought Ralph was cute from the start.  Not cute in a physical way, but cute in a personality way.  He was more the handsome type, the kind of guy a girl might not notice at first, or perhaps give only cursory look, but he was nothing to fawn over.  He was the kind who grew on you, so that after a while, he seemed not only handsome, but funny as well.  Lori didn’t need the best-looking guy, as long as he could make her laugh.  Looks could grow on a person.  They could change.  How they were perceived could be adjusted.  That’s the way it had been with Ralph.  He got better as time went by.

Ralph on the other hand thought Lori was pretty.  This feeling of pretty came upon him like his handsome came on her, maybe quicker.  From the first time they met, Ralph thought she was cute.  He liked her hair.  He liked the way she dressed.  He liked her slim figure.  As they got to know each other, however, he started to recognize her prettiness.  The cute was still there, but her prettiness was what really made him fall for her.  She had a way about her—mature, responsible, and thoughtful – that went hand-in-hand with what Ralph wished he could find in a girl. 

She shared her notes with him, took the test, and passed it with flying colors.  Ralph’s classroom question was not directly on the test, but an offshoot of it was, and the answer he used on the test came directly from Lori’s notes.  He was grateful she had saved him from a pickle.  From then on, she always shared her notes with him, and grew fonder of him, attracted by the way he needed someone to care for him, to help him sort through problems and keep him squared away. 

Lori liked the way their relationship had transpired since then.  She needed a boyfriend and Ralph was a good match.  Ralph liked the way things had gone, too.  Besides her pretty looks, Lori responded well to what he needed.  Now that he had a girlfriend, he considered her a pretty neat thing to have. 

Lori’s mother was the only one concerned about the status of their relationship, curious as to Ralph’s intentions.  She knew her daughter was a pushover at times.  She took what was dished out even if she didn’t like what was being served, believing that the end would justify the means.  Not everything falls into place by itself, her mother chided her.  Sometimes you have to put it where it needs to go.  She had been prodding Lori to make her arrangement with Ralph more official.  That was the stuff that concerned a mother’s heart.

How long are you going to go on like that? she asked.

Like what? Lori responded, playing dumb.

Like a couple of college buddies with no future commitment other than study partners, her mother said.

Lori knew what she was hinting at.  She had been hinting the same thing since the start of the year.  I haven’t really thought about it that much, Lori said.  I don’t want to force him into a situation he can‘t handle.  Ralph can only take so much goading before he starts to buck.  If he doesn’t feel right about something, then he just won’t do it.  He won’t necessarily tell you what he thinks, but he will let you know how he feels.  I don’t want to push something on him that will make him bristle.

You shouldn’t be so fearful about approaching him on the subject, her mother advised.  It’s nothing to be ashamed of.  Marriage is an honorable commitment and it is something you should do while you are still young, while you still have your looks to you.

I know what you mean, Lori sighed, torn in her feelings.  It was not a subject she wanted to think about.  Her relationship with Ralph had everything she was looking for and the thought of marriage only messed it up.  It’s not that she was adverse to marriage.  Not at all.  She thought that maybe it was just too early to contemplate the proposition.  She wondered if she and Ralph knew each other well enough.  She wondered if they had explored all the areas of relevant inquiry that would give them the confidence they needed in one another and in their future to go through with it, to make it the lasting commitment that it was supposed to be. 

Lori had her own style of upbringing.  Raised a Catholic, she had been taught the ins and outs of courtship and admonished on the compromising situations that could arise when it came to the nitty-gritty of dating.  Ralph wasn’t Catholic, but he was a man who respected the faith.  He was from some other denomination, one that did a lot of singing and praying, but was not entrenched in all the ceremony and ritual.  Faith came first, followed by action.  That was Ralph’s way.  He did not dig too deeply or reflect too hard on the nuances of belief, afraid he might discover something different than what he already knew was right, and that could mess him up.  He liked to believe the way he did just because it made him feel good.  He was, as a preacher might say, a man of simple faith, as a preacher might say, but was quite reluctant to get caught up in the fine line of debate that separated one doctrine from another

Lori liked him like that.  It was sometimes easier to liver her life the way she liked to live it without a lot of backlash.  She was happy they had met when they did.  She was ready for someone like him.  Now that they had the chance to discuss some of what they believed in on a deeper level, she was willing to take their relationship that much farther.  She realized there was only so far that they could probe.  The rest was just open space and unexplored terrain.  Yet, it was where they could grow together while still maintaining the faith that was at the root of their existence.

Still, marriage seemed a little too far in front of them, more so to Ralph than to Lori ever since she and her mother had their little talk.  Her mind swirled with questions.  What if she did approach Ralph on the subject and he balked.  Where would that leave their relationship then?  With her intentions exposed, Ralph might not like what she was edging for and try to wriggle out from what they had.  It was dangerous ground. 

Yet up until the little talk with her mother, Lori never considered her relationship with Ralph from her mother’s point of view.  She realized that it was not just another piece of catechistical advice like her mother was used to offering her young daughter from the time she was old enough to remember.  It was specific advice for a specific situation.  It’s where the leather hit the road. 

It caused her to focus on the relationship she had with Ralph from a different angle.  She considered what Ralph had to offer.  It wasn’t much, if she counted what was on the outside.  He lived in a small apartment, had taken a ‘sabbatical’ from his studies in order to figure out what he wanted to do, had trouble holding onto jobs, and was full of ideas about what he could do if only he could get his foot in the door.  Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to open the door, let him step inside, and give him what she suspected every man needed. 

When she added it up, doing the math in her funny little way, he had a lot to offer, when measured from the inside.  He was kind, gentle, humorous, and apt to sprout ideas that were marvelous once she had the opportunity to think them through.  After she reflected on what her mom said, it was an idea she couldn’t shake from her mind.  It was funny how that worked.  Plant a seed and the thing just starts to grow. 

Now she was inclined to probe the limits of their relationship more than ever before.  When he brought up this trip, she jumped at the opportunity to go, thinking it would be a good way for them to spend some time together and get to know each other beyond the template of their homespun existence and in the rough-cut world outside their upbringing. 

On their way out of town, they stopped by a Quick Stop convenience store to fill up with gas.  They grabbed some donuts and coffee to go and Lori tossed in a magazine for good measure.

They were soon beyond the city limits on the freeway heading south, moving in a light stream of pre-rush-hour traffic, eating donuts and drinking coffee, talking about how wonderful this trip was going to be and all the things they were going see.  They were happy to be on the road, leaving behind what was familiar and venturing to someplace new. 

Ralph handled the driving while Lori took charge of the radio, slipping from one channel to the next to keep them in the groove.  Eventually the four-lanes went to three, traffic thinned substantially and the time behind the wheel became much more relaxed.  The dawn etched itself across the horizon in a line of pinkish orange.  The overhead sky was clear.  The day had the makings of a fabulous for traveling. 

The first half-day on the road went without any hitches.  They smiled and laughed and talked about little things, thinking all along how neat the trip was going and how much farther away they were from the problems they left behind.  They had not taken a lot of road trips, certainly not anything that involved this many miles; they were new to what was expected and decided to take the adventure as it came.  As the miles passed along, Lori read her magazine while Ralph got comfortable watching the road. 

After four plus hours on the freeway, they turned onto a state highway that took them east across the upward-rising plain into the foothills of the mountains.  It was beautiful country this time of year.  The woods were in perfect bloom and wildlife abounded.  They spotted a number of family species lolling in the bush or crossing the road, enjoying the weather and participating in the rites of spring. 

As they trekked deeper into the mountains, the pleasantry of the trip began to unwind.  Ralph’s van was not in the best of shape.  It had high mileage and the interior was in rough condition.  In preparation for the trip, Ralph had changed the oil and topped all the fluid levels.  He wiped the windows and checked the tires.  Everything looked good to go.  Now, far from the comforts of their neighborhood, the van struggled up the hilly inclines while its temperature gauge crept toward Hot.  The inside of the van was heating up and Lori was beginning to get nervous.  She did not refrain from letting Ralph know how she felt.

I thought you had the engine checked? she asked, wringing her hands.

I did, Ralph replied, cracking his window to let out some of the hot air.  Everything checked out okay.

How come it’s running so hot? Lori steamed.

Something must’ve happened, Ralph surmised.  Maybe one of the hoses sprung a leak.

Will we be okay? Lori cried. 

I think we have enough fluid to make it through the pass, Ralph answered, keeping his eye on the temperature gauge.  The downhill run will take some of the strain off the engine.

I hope so, Lori whimpered.  We didn’t bring any water.

We can pour Coke down the radiator if we have to, Ralph humored, seeking to ease the tension.

Very funny, Lori said, but she is not smiling.

On the downhill swing of the mountain pass, they were relieved to see the sights of a backwoods service station that had a couple of gas pumps out front and an open garage door.  The temperature gauge had backed off from where it was, but with more hills to climb on the road ahead, they were reluctant to take further chance.  They pulled in to have the van checked.  After it was inspected, the mechanic informed them that it was not just the hose that needed replacing, but the water pump as well.  They gave him the go-ahead to do the work and spent the remainder of the day waiting for the van to get repaired. 

On they were on the road again, they drove until it was dark.  They finally pulled off at a nondescript location somewhere in the mountains and spent an uncomfortable evening in the back of the van. 

Next day, they resumed their trek, only to discover near the hour of noon that the lights on the instrument panel were going haywire and the radio quit playing.  The prospect of no music was enough to make them stop and get the problem checked.  They were forced to spend another half-a-day at another roadside repair shop getting the alternator replaced.  This second delay grated on Lori much more than the first.  Try as she might, she could not help blaming Ralph for not paying more attention making sure the van was in running order before they left home.  She tried to keep her feelings in check, but every time she opened her mouth, the words spilled out wrong.  Even when she kept quiet, there was no mistaking her anxiety.  Ralph made some jokes to relieve her stress, but his efforts were rebuffed.  Eventually, he just closed his mouth and resigned his eyes to watching the road.

They spent another night on the side of the road.  The next day, after more miles and the expenditure of additional hours fixing a flat tire, replacing a broken engine belt, and fixing an oil leak, they were both feeling the wear and tear of these constant stops and unexpected repairs.  The trip was taking longer than they planned and what little money they brought had run through their fingers like sand.  They spent another night on the open road. 

Next day, they were both feeling cranky when they awoke, and the tension only thickened with each passing mile.  They were peeved with each other, the van, the weather, the environment, and the hour-by-hour problems that had become part and parcel to their trip.  The adventure had lost its serenity.  Tempers were brewing.  Talk had come to a standstill. 

Four days into the trip, they finally came across a sign that pointed to their small-town destination.  They were, at this point, deeply depressed from the pain of their travels and irritated by a growing list of personal grievances.  Short on money and doing all they could to budget their expenses, they paid for the ongoing repairs by sleeping in the van and saving on the cost of motel.  Instead of restaurants, they ate food from roadside stores, food that went down mostly cold, without the touches of a kitchen.  The repairs they encountered cost them more money than they had planned, but at least the van was running better, Ralph thought consolingly while Lori shared the same thought with chagrin.  When they finally saw the sign that pointed to town, they suddenly felt a whole lot better about their troubles, knowing that, despite the rigors, they were very close to completing their continental journey.

It was deep into dusk as they headed down the highway that led to their final destination.  Their headlights struggled to cut through the night air.  It was thick, like a slice of stale cake, and wrestled against their van with every mile they took. 

A few miles down the road, they were dismayed to discover that the highway into town had been closed.  A detour sign pointed a route twenty miles to the west.  It was nightfall.  The air had cooled and the sky glinted with just a sliver of moon.  Not knowing the offerings of the town ahead, they decided to trail back to the freeway, where they had passed a little motel with a blinking vacancy sign. 

The room they rented for the night was small and musty.  The window air-conditioner barely puffed out enough cold air to keep the place comfortable.  They ate cold food, sipped on cans of warm soda, and watched a little TV before finally calling it a night.

2

The big-butted man crept across the creaky hardwood floor like an elephant on the savanna.  He had just risen from the couch and was still groggy from a night of restless sleep.  While he was negotiating a path through the pale morning light, a sleekly attired woman emerged from the bedroom door and hastened past him before they reached the kitchen.  She grabbed a glass from the cupboard, shuffled across the linoleum, poured a splash of orange juice from the refrigerator, sidled to the sink, retrieved a couple tablets from a vitamin bottle, popped them into her mouth, and washed them down with a hearty swig just as the man lumbered into the kitchen. 

You going fishing today? she asked him, putting her glass into the sink.

I was planning on it, he muttered, sleepily.

Would you mind stopping by the grocery store afterwards and buying a bottle of Tabasco? she inquired.  I want to make a hot-dish for dinner tonight.

All right, he replied glumly. 

He watched as she dug through her purse and came up with a handful of dollars.  She handed these to him.  There’s an extra five in there for gas, she intoned smartly.

Five dollars ain’t very much these days, he croaked.  It’s barely enough to wheel me to the dock when I’m pulling the boat.

I don’t have a lot of money, she sighed, but dug through her purse and rounded up a couple more dollars in change.  I had to pay the electricity bill with my last check and you know I don’t get paid until the end of the week.  This has got to cover it.  Besides, your fishing is supposed to be saving us money on food.  I‘m not giving it to you just so you can go out and have a party.  For that kind of money, you ought to better bring back a whole string of fish, not just the one you brought back last time.  How am I supposed to feed two grown people on one itty-bitty fish?

I can’t make the fish bite, the man stammered.  Sometimes they want more than just worms to eat.  They’re just like us.  Sometimes they want a salad.  Sometimes they want a baked potato.  If worms are all I got to give them, they very well might just swim past my hook and look for something else to eat.

Why don’t you look through the garden and find another kind of bug to give them, she chided.  Give them a pork chop instead of a hamburger.  Or if they want a salad, cut them up a tomato and mix it with some horseradish.  You’re surely going to find something out there that will tickle their fancy.  Then she added, just for the kicker, I notice it hasn’t been hoed in a week.

I can’t do everything at once, the man bellyached.  I’ll hoe the garden tomorrow.  Fishing takes a lot of time.  It’s not just a matter of smiling and looking pretty all day long.

If you think that’s all I do, then you got another thing coming, the lady remarked with a look that could’ve scared the stripes off a zebra.  I’m on my feet all day long.  I’ve got to deal with folks that ain’t always happy.  Lately, I’ve had to deal with the crummy mood of my boss.  It’s not always just a matter of smiling and looking pretty, as you seem to think.

You ain’t going to get many sales if you ain’t smiling, the man stated flatly.

You’re putting me in a bad mood, the lady snarled.  Every time you work me up like this just before I’m ready to go to work, you’re taking money out of our pocket.  How does that make you feel?

I’m just telling you the facts, the man said flatly.  You want me to call you up in the middle of the day and talk to you then?  Besides, you’re the one who’s asking me.  I’m not the one who started this conversation.

All I asked is for you to stop by the grocer and buy some Tabasco, she moaned.  Is that too much to ask?

If you’re going to be screaming to me about money all the time, it is, the man crabbed. 

I’m not screaming at you, the lady bellowed.

You are now, the man yowled. 

If you want to hear some screaming, the lady reiterated, lifting her voice a sharp octave, I will raise my voice so you can hear the difference between talking and screaming.

That won’t be necessary, the man responded indignantly.  I’m going out back to check those tomatoes like you said, then go down to the station and get some gas for the truck.

He kept a garden out back during the summers as a credit to her insistence.  It wasn’t the best of gardens.  Everything grew up scrawny, and the birds and bugs got to half of it before he had a chance to harvest it for himself.  But it served as a place of reprieve for him whenever he got upset, and gave him a prime place to grow his fishing worms.

After he dig up the earthworms, he checked the plants for anything else he that would make a scrumptious fish bait.  He nabbed a couple of curly worms that were nibbling on the beets.  They made excellent fish bait.  It was one reason he grew beets.  He really didn’t care for their flavor as a vegetable.  He grew them more as worm food.  The only problem was the worms had a tendency to get into some of the other crops besides the beets, and it was always a chore keeping them from spreading.  He squirted them with tobacco juice and left cans of sugar water at various spots on the ground so that they would climb in and drown.  From the looks of it, the stuff was working pretty well.  There were lots of little bugs floating on the bottom of the cans.  He reminded himself to make another batch to keep them off the corn.  Before he finished going through the rest of the vegetables, he stuffed a couple of green tomatoes in his pocket to eat later on.

His old lady left earlier than usual that day.  By the time he came back from the garden, she was already gone.  She left in the heat of passion.  He liked to see her leave when she was feeling a little hot around the collar.  It showed the folks at work what she was really like and what he had to deal with every hot-dam day of his life.

He felt better once she was out of the house.  He packed his cooler and loaded his supplies, then checked the truck and hitched the trailer.  He stopped by the gas station, pumped some fuel in the truck and boat, and then stopped by the grocery store to buy a pack of gum.  He bought the gum to cover his tracks for the bottle of Tabasco he stole.  The money he had been given for that could be put to better use.  Some days that woman of his could be downright stingy with her money.  On days like today, he had to work his way around it when he needed to take care of personal necessities.  Besides, he liked a pack of gum when he came home in the evening so his breath didn’t smell so malted.

On his way out of town, he stopped by the liquor store and got what he needed to make the day relaxing.  A nice traveler of gin did him just fine when he was out there by himself, talking to the birds and the bees, smelling the breeze, floating beneath the trees, thinking how ugly his woman could be.  He used to think she was one fine looking babe, possessing a pair of nice-looking ta-ta’s and a soft round bun to boot.  Once he discovered how she talked, however, she lost the flavor in her fat lips, and after he learned how she thought, she lost the prettiness of her pudgy little face. 

They quit doing business in bed a long time ago.  All he was left with these days was his five-fingered funny and she even had him on the run with that.  Now he just had his memories and dreams, and those seemed to come better when he slept on the couch. 

Not that she had kicked him out of bed.  It was just something he chose to do more and more.  If he came home after he had drank too much, or sometimes even after he’d drank just a little, she’d smell it on his breath, and start steaming from every hole in her head.  She‘d run around the house ranting and raving until she finally forced him to the back yard, or over to a friend’s house, or if it was too late to be outside, onto the couch in front of the TV. 

Nowadays, if he came home smelling like drink, he’d sneak into the house quiet as a