Part 3
Mute Nostril Agony took the stage to a chorus of raucous shrieks. Louisa winked at Paul and he started to play the opening notes of Stairway To Heaven , the old Led Zeppelin classic. “This is one of our favorites!” she shouted. “If y'all know the words, feel free to join in!” She began to sing, her voice rising and falling rhythmically. Gene watched her from behind his drum kit, sensing that something was different about his old friend. He locked eyes with Toby, raising a curious eyebrow. Wilder shrugged, signaling that he was as confused as the drummer was. Rick stared at Paul intensely, who whirled around the stage in a blur of frenetic movement.
Marco's eyes followed his sister as she ran back and forth, sweat dripping down her face. He nudged Roy and said, “Am I nuts or does her voice sound different? It's weird, but I know I've heard it before, but not from her throat.”
Desoto bit his lip, nodding slowly. All at once, his mind made the connection and he gasped. “She's singing exactly like Janis Joplin,” he murmured. “But how is that possible? It doesn't make any sense at all .”
Halfway through the set, Paul took off his guitar and held it by the neck, swinging it in a wide arc. He dropped it onto the floor and knelt over it, hammering the wood and strings with his fists. A howl erupted from his mouth as he pulled a can of lighter fluid from his pocket, spraying his instrument with the volatile liquid. Roland bent forward and kissed the object, then produced a pack of matches and set it ablaze. The wood caught quickly, sparks floating towards the ceiling as the flames rose higher and higher.
“Son of a bitch !!” bellowed Pete, grabbing a fire extinguisher and bolting forward. The crowd cheered and clapped, thinking it was all part of the act. “What the Hell are you trying to do, Paul?!? Burn the place down?!? Get out of here before I call the cops!”
The guitarist staggered away, his body swaying drunkenly. He bumped against Rick, knocking him aside and into a stack of amplifiers. The tower fell over with a deafening squeal of feedback, sparks flying in every direction. Tendrils of smoke drifted upward, setting off the sprinklers. “Turn off the equipment!” shouted Gene, abandoning his stool and running for the rear doors. Toby leaped forward and grabbed Louisa's arm, dragging her past the crackling speakers, his eyes wide with terror. The crowd scattered, shrill screams rising as they ran to escape the hellish scene. Johnny jumped onto the stage and hauled Rick to his feet. A trickle of blood ran down the guitarist's cheek from a gash above his temple, streaking his face with gore. “ Roy , find Paul!” shouted Gage. “I think he went backstage!”
The senior paramedic darted forward and swept the heavy velvet curtain aside with his hand. He spotted Roland sprawled out on the floor and called back over his shoulder. “Chet! Marco! Help me lift him! This place could go up any second!” The three of them scooped up the unconscious man and ran for their lives, just as the stack of amplifiers exploded with a blinding flash.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Station 36, Station 110, Truck 127, Battalion 14, explosion and fire at Los Angeles County Fairgrounds, 3825 Fairground Road, 3-8-2-5 Fairground, time out 23:14.”
Chief McConikee bolted out of his chair when the call came in. “Holy Hannah,” he growled. “That's where Pete Riley was putting on the fundraiser for the new inner-city youth center.” He ran out to his car and roared out of the parking lot, cursing under his breath.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Johnny bent over Rick Dunkirk, pressing his fingers over the man's bleeding temple. The guitarist moaned groggily, his eyes rolling in their sockets. “Did the others get out okay?” he asked hoarsely. “Man, I thought I was gonna get roasted alive.” He sat up, dislodging the paramedic's hand. “Where's Paul?!? He's still in there! You gotta find him before he burns up!”
Gage pushed the struggling man back down. “Hold still, Rick,” he grunted. “Roy, Chet, and Marco brought him out.” He looked at his partner, his eyes full of questions. Desoto grinned and gave him a thumbs-up. “He's just fine, buddy. Let's worry about you right now, all right?”
Louisa stood dazed and silent a few feet away. Pete appeared out of the thickening smoke and grabbed the young woman's shoulders, shaking her roughly. “You better have a damn good explanation for this!” he yelled. “Who came up with the bright idea to set fire to the stage?!? Answer me, damn it!” When she didn't respond, the promoter slapped her across the face as hard as he could. She swayed backwards, her eyes glazed and unfocused.
Gene caught her as she started to fall, his eyes wide with shock. “Leave her alone!” he snapped fiercely. “None of us knew Paul was going to burn his guitar! Touch her again and I'll beat the crap outta you!”
Riley's answer was drowned out by the wail of sirens as the first engine company arrived at the complex. He stalked off glaring angrily, his jaw tight with fury. McConikee intercepted him as he passed, barking questions. “That damn idiot torched his guitar!” retorted Pete. “Thank God I had the foresight to buy fire insurance.”
Miguel Sanchez from Station 36 dropped to his knees beside Johnny and Rick. “What have you got?” he asked his fellow paramedic.
Gage looked up, his face pale. “Laceration on the left temple and a possible concussion. The bleeding stopped when I applied direct pressure. He's alert and oriented times three.” His head whipped around when Gene called for help. Louisa was slumped against his chest, her body in the throes of a violent seizure.
Mike rushed forward and helped lower his sister to the ground. She thrashed wildly, lips turning blue as thick, guttural cries pierced the night air. The engineer grunted in pain when a flailing hand slammed into his cheekbone with a sickening crack.
“Go ahead, Johnny,” said Miguel. “I can handle things here.” He raised his voice to a shout. “Chief, you better call in a couple more squads! We're gonna need more ‘medics to care for these people! Collins, how you doing over there?”
“He's in bad shape,” answered his partner grimly. “Shock, first and second degree burns, and possible smoke inhalation. Pulse and BP are way down, too.”
McConikee knelt besides the paramedics and their charges, his HT dangling from its wrist strap. “Has everyone been accounted for?” he asked. His eyes swept the group, suddenly aware that someone was missing. “Where's Captain Stanley? If he's still in there…….”
“He went to call in the fire,” replied Chet. “He should have been back by now. You want me to go look for him?”
“No need, amigo ,” replied Marco. “He's over there, talking to Captain Stone. I'll get him.”
Roy jumped back in surprise when a cold rush of air rose from Paul's body and whistled past his ear. The guitarist moaned softly and opened his eyes. “How much money did we raise?” he muttered groggily. “Hey, what am I doing out here? Is the show over already? Did we bring the house down?”
“In a matter of speaking,” Desoto chuckled darkly. “You burned your guitar and set the place on fire.”
Roland gaped at him in disbelief. “I did what ?!?” he gasped. “You can't be serious. Why would I do a fool thing like that? Quit kidding around, Roy .”
“I'm not joking,” said the senior paramedic. “You sprayed lighter fluid all over the place then put a match to it. Are you saying you don't remember?”
“I remember doing sound check and warming up. Oh, and being interrupted just as I was about to score. Right before we went on, I felt sick to my stomach. I thought it was just nerves.” He glanced at Toby thoughtfully. “Wasn't Lou saying something about a ‘full-tilt boogie'? Everything after that is one huge blur.”
Marco returned with Hank and Captain Stone in tow. Stanley yelped when his wife's foot connected with his ankle. “Dang, that hurt! Why aren't there more paramedics here?!?” he demanded. “I told the dispatcher to send three stations, for Christ's sake!”
Dunkirk pushed Miguel's hands away from his face. “I'm all right,” he grumbled. “Lou needs you a lot more than I do right now, pal.” He chewed his lip, thinking about what Paul had said about things being confused. “You know, she was acting kinda weird in the dressing room. She was using this real dopey accent and talking like it was the 60's. I figured she was goofing around and didn't pay any attention. Louisa always got pumped up before a gig and did nutty things to make us laugh, just to ease the tension.”
Gene snickered, twirling a drumstick between his fingers. “True, but have you ever heard her say boogie unless she mocking somebody out? It ain't Lou's style, buddy.”
Toby nodded in agreement. “Gene's right,” he said. “We used to share a rehearsal space with a real peace-and-love type band, and she used to make fun of their Woodstock lingo. If I didn't know better, I'd say Lou was using again.”
Hank's face darkened ominously. “My wife hasn't used drugs in years !” he hissed. “If she was strung out, I would be the first to know.”
Wilder opened his mouth to apologize. Before he could utter the words, Mike yelled again. “Johnny, get over here now !” he shouted. “She's stopped breathing!”
Gage cursed and started mouth-to-mouth. Collins hid his grin behind his hand. “Uh, Captain Stanley, are you okay with Gage kissing your wife?” he joked.
Hank glared at him and rolled his eyes. “Better him than you, pal,” he growled. “Just mind your own business and do your job.”
“What is the situation?” asked Craig Brice as he arrived on scene. “Good heavens! Is that Mrs. Stanley?”
“It ain't Marilyn Monroe,” cracked Chet, his eyes sparkling merrily. “About time you guys showed up. Did Marley get lost again?”
Tony laughed and shook a fist at the Irishman in mock threat. “Watch yourself, Kelly,” he grinned. “Stand aside and let the real professionals take over.” He dropped to his knees and waited for Johnny to lean back. “How long as she been like this?” he asked, reaching for the biophone.
“About forty-five seconds,” gasped the paramedic. “She went into a seizure before she passed out, but it stopped almost immediately.”
“Any history of epilepsy? Was she drinking or using drugs earlier?”
“Yeah, Lou took a couple swigs of Southern Comfort,” broke in Toby. “No drugs, though, that I know. She never had a seizure before, either.”
Marley smiled. “We'll get to the bottom of it,” he replied. Fifteen minutes later, all three patients were stabilized and on their way to Rampart for treatment.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Later That Night
Paul shifted uncomfortably in his bed, his eyes drifting to the room's other occupant. Louisa was sound asleep, her chest rising and falling as she breathed. “Glad one of us can get some shut-eye,” he muttered softly. The young woman stirred restlessly, crying out frantically. “We're gonna burn up! Everyone get out!” Her eyes flew open wide and she bolted upright, sweat streaming down her face.
The door swung open as Dixie entered the room. “Louisa, calm down,” she whispered soothingly. “You're at Rampart.”
The young woman's eyes focused on the nurse's face and she visibly relaxed. “Sorry I bothered you, Dix,” she replied, blushing sheepishly. “I'm okay; it was just a silly nightmare.”
“You probably saw your ugly puss in the mirror, babe,” joked the guitarist, grinning at his friend teasingly. “If you're through hollering, can I got to sleep now?”
“Pardon me for interrupting your beauty rest, pal,” Louisa shot back with a throaty giggle. “Lord knows you need it. Your face could gag a maggot.”
“Speak for yourself, Gruesome,” said Paul. “I may be hideous, but that morning breath of yours could send Godzilla running for cover. Got any Certs on ya, Mrs. Brackett?”
The young woman burst out laughing when Dixie glowered at him sternly. “Uh oh, buddy,” she tittered. “You've done it now. Get ready for fire and brimstone.”
“If you two don't behave yourselves, I'm going to call in the heavy artillery. I think a nice sponge bath from a certain member of our staff might be in order. Who wants to be first?”
“All right, I know when I'm licked,” snorted Louisa, wiping her eyes. “I won't say another word until morning.”
“That'll be the day,” mumbled Roland. “You even talk in your sleep! Maybe if we glued your lips together…..?”
“Ooh, I'm terrified,” retorted the young woman. “I'd like to see you try it with your hands wrapped like a mummy, King Tut. Those embalmers screwed up, darling. They didn't check to be sure you were dead before they removed that ball of slime I laughingly refer to as your brain.”
“At least I still have one, sweetness,” teased the guitarist. “You lost yours bungee jumping. Not that you had much to start with.”
Dixie threw up her hands in exasperation and left them trading insults. “They're worse than John Gage and Chet Kelly,” she grumbled.
“Louisa and her friend giving you trouble, Dix?” asked Joe Early with a grin. “Should we call an anesthesiologist to administer nitrous?”
“Don't tempt me,” growled the nurse crossly. “If they don't stop squabbling, I might be forced to knock their heads together. It wouldn't do any good, but I'd feel a whole lot better.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Two Days Later
“I can't wait to get out of here and sleep in my own bed again,” exclaimed Paul as he and Louisa waited for their release papers. “You glad to be going home, too?”
The young woman chuckled. “Yeah, but not as much as the nursing staff will be to get rid of us,” she laughed. “Joe Early told me Dix was threatening to sedate us if we didn't stop bickering. I guess we were getting on her nerves.”
Paul smirked, his eyes twinkling with glee. “Hell, that was nothing compared to the way we used to argue. We fought over some of the stupidest damn things, too, like what to get on our pizzas. I insisted on pineapple and anchovies and you told me that if I wanted to eat rotten fish, I should dig them out of my girlfriend's panties. If she hadn't been sitting right there, I wouldn't have made a big deal about it.”
Louisa burst out laughing, tears streaming down her cheeks. “If you hadn't throw a chicken wing at me, it would have ended right there. Instead, it escalated into a full-scale food fight and the manager threw us out.”
“Yeah, and if Simpson's aim was better, he wouldn't have beaned the guy with a glass of beer! I don't think he was thrilled to shower with Bud Light! Wonder if he would have preferred something less fragrant?” He started to giggle, holding his sides as he rolled around on the bed.
“Hey, it's not my fault he chose that moment to jump in,” interrupted Gene from the doorway. Rick and Toby stood behind him, wearing identical grins. “Besides, isn't beer supposed to be good for your hair?”
“Not when it's still in the bottle!” snickered the young woman. “Whatever happened to that girl, Paul? I never saw her hanging around after that.”
“She moved to Alaska and married a salmon fisherman,” answered the guitarist. “Last I heard, she was working at a cannery up there.”
“Are you putting me on? A cannery ?!? That's too damn funny!”
“Have I ever lied to you, baby?” grinned Paul. “I swear on my dear Aunt Sadie's grave I'm telling the truth.”
“I might believe that if you had an Aunt Sadie,” giggled Louisa, throwing her pillow at him. “”I thought your aunt's name was Jemima.”
“Love her pancakes and syrup,” quipped Gene. “Are you lunatics being released today or what? I'd like a chance to warn the public that you're back on the streets so they'll have time to hide.”
“Yup, as soon as the warden springs us,” laughed Paul. “We're gonna stand on the corner and sneer at people driving by. Do we look scary enough?”
“Same as always,” needled Toby. “If Animal Control sees those hideous mugs, they'll put you in the kennel with the rest of the hounds. Don't worry too much, though; I'll come and adopt you.”
“Right after you escape from the zoo?” joked Louisa. “What do you think, boys? Is the Tobester a gorilla or an orangutan?”
“Hard to say,” snickered Gene. “He looks more like a jackass to me.”
Toby rolled his eyes and gave his friend a playful swat. “Birds of a feather flock together,” he laughed. “Do either of you need a ride home? If not, I'll leave and go somewhere I'll be appreciated.”
Louisa shook her head. “Nah, Hank's picking me up. He should have been here by now. Wonder what's keeping him?”
“He's busy chasing after the tribe,” said Johnny as he came into the room. “Hey, guys. Is this a private conversation or can a lowly paramedic join in?”
The young woman laughed and held out a slender hand. “Finally, a man with an IQ larger than his shoe size. What are those little hellions of mine up to now, Johnny?'
“I was sworn to secrecy,” smiled Gage. “Be patient, sweetheart; you'll find out sooner or later.”
“Sweetheart?!?” echoed Paul incredulously. “Does Hubby know you flirt with this character, Lou?”
“We have an arrangement, smartass,” giggled Louisa. “I can flirt with any paramedic I choose and Hank can ogle any nurse he wants to, within reason, of course. Besides, how could I resist such a handsome face? Isn't he absolutely adorable ?”
“If you say so,” said Rick. He stepped back when Dr. Brackett entered, carrying a stack of papers in his hand. “Hi, Doc.”
“Gentlemen,” nodded Kel with a smile. “Sign here and you're free to go. Your chariots will be here shortly. By the way, Pete Riley is waiting downstairs and he doesn't look happy. Should I call security or can you deal with him?”
Paul sighed heavily and frowned. “I knew I'd have to face him eventually,” he muttered. “Good thing I'm in a hospital. He'll probably read me the riot act before he beats the Hell outta me.”
Part 4
The instant the elevator doors opened, the promoter pounced. “I want a word with you, Roland!” he growled. “I'm going to make you pay for that little stunt you pulled!”
Louisa jumped out of her wheelchair and darted forward, her eyes blazing. “Back off, Pete!” she snarled. “Can't you see that he's in no condition to deal with your crap right now? Why are you so determined to lay all the blame on us for? In case you don't remember, we're the only people who got hurt! You should be thanking God it turned out that way, buster!”
Riley sneered at her, his face turning ugly. “Shut your mouth, bitch,” he hissed. “I'm not letting any of you off the hook. The five of you probably planned the whole thing to make me look bad. Before I'm finished with you, the only gigs you'll be playing will be in jail.”
“I don't think so, Mr. Riley,” said a disdainful voice. Paul Hendrix, the Los Angeles County District Attorney, stood there glaring. “I've spoken to your partner, Charles Roberts, about what happened. He informed me that you took out floater insurance to protect yourself if anything got out of hand. Mr. Roland's little display may have been incredibly stupid, but, under your policy, it was fully covered. Unfortunately, the injuries he and Rick Dunkirk suffered were not. Yesterday afternoon, I met with Chief McConikee and the Fire Department Arson Investigator and learned that it was an amplifier that started the fire, not Mr. Roland's little pyrotechnic display. Tell me, sir, are you aware that it is required to have the premises inspected before any event takes place?”
“I took care of it personally,” answered Pete, his face turning red. “The venue was perfectly capable of handling a crowd of that size. I found nothing wrong during my walk-through.”
Hendrix smirked, his lips twisting sarcastically. “I'm sure you didn't,” he retorted. “According to the report I received, the emergency exits in the backstage area were locked and chained shut. In addition to that, every single one of the fire extinguishers Mr. Bunker tested were either empty or broken. He found a total of fifteen code violations in the entire building.”
“Yeah, so what?” answered Riley. “I was told the structure passed inspection. If someone locked the exits, it was without my knowledge.”
“That's bull and you know it!” argued Toby. “I pointed out that they were locked and you said you would take care of it! Gene was standing right next to me when I told you!”
“I contacted the Code Inspector after spoke to Mr. Roberts and was informed that you a were given detailed list of things that had to be rectified before your fundraiser could proceed. I saw the application you submitted to the insurance company, sir. It disclosed none of the violations in Mr. Horton's report and that constitutes fraud,” said the D.A. coldly. “I sure that when all is said and done, I will have more than enough evidence to convict you for gross criminal negligence. Whether or not the insurance company decides to file charges is up to them, but I would be very surprised if they chose not to prosecute.”
The promoter's jaw dropped and he paled. “What about all the money I raised for the community center? Doesn't that mean anything? I was supposed to be paid for putting the whole thing together.”
“Those funds have been turned over to the officials in charge of the project and construction will proceed as planned,” answered Hendrix. “As to your fee, I suggest you speak to the committee.”
Johnny tapped Hendrix on the shoulder. “If you'll excuse me, sir, I was told to get Mrs. Stanley home as soon as possible.”
“Of course, Mr. Gage. Don't let me keep you. I can get your statement another time. When would it be convenient for you to stop by my office?”
“I'll give you a call tomorrow morning,” replied the paramedic. “We'll see you guys later, okay?”
Louisa turned to stare at her friend. “What are you up to, John Gage?” she questioned suspiciously. “Oh, I get it now! Hank asked everyone to meet at the ranch for a coming home party, didn't he? That's why he sent you to pick me up.”
“Could be, but you'll have to be a good girl and be patient,” laughed Johnny.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The Stanley Ranch
Hank cradled the telephone receiver and rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “All right, everyone,” he called. “John and Louisa just left the hospital parking lot. That gives us about half an hour before they arrive. How are we doing, preparation wise?”
“Food's just about ready,” said Joanne Desoto. “Roy and Mike were putting the finishing touches on the tables last time I checked.”
Captain Stanley smiled broadly. “Good. Where are Kelly and Lopez?” he asked.
“Right here, Cap,” grinned Marco. “We hung the banner like you told us to. Chet's out front, waiting for the guest of honor to get here.”
“We're ready, too, Daddy,” piped up Emma, Hank and Louisa's oldest daughter. “Do you think Mama will be surprised?”
“I certainly hope so, sweetheart,” said her father. “Okay, everybody find a place to hide. When Lou and John come in the house, you all know what to do.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
As Johnny turned up the canyon road, he looked out the window to hide a grin. “Looks like Mark and Carrie have been trimming their trees again,” he said. “Too bad they overdid it. Oh well, I guess they'll grow back eventually.”
“Uh huh,” answered Louisa. She yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. “I can't wait to get home and relax. Between Paul jabbering away half the night and the nurses doing their two o'clock rounds, I could use some sleep.”
“Don't you want to spend some time with your family before you pass out?” asked Gage. “The kids have been missing their mother the past couple days.”
“Yeah, I guess I have a few things to catch up on before the Sandman pays a visit,” chuckled the young woman. Her eyes widened when the Rover pulled into the driveway and she spotted the banner hanging above the porch. “I knew something was up. Care to enlighten me, Johnny?”
“My lips are sealed,” smiled the paramedic. “After you, Mrs. Cap.”
Louisa stood with one hand on the door knob. At the last minute, she back away, her eyes twinkling with mischief. She winked at Johnny and pointed to the gate leading to the backyard. “Follow me,” she whispered. She crossed the lawn and entered the house through the back door, biting her lip to muffle her giggles.
“Where are they?” grumbled Hank. “I thought you said you saw them pull up, Kelly.”
“I did, Cap,” protested Chet defensively. He pressed his nose to the window and peered out. Gage's Rover is here, but I don't see him or Louisa anywhere .”
The young woman crept up behind Roy and glanced at Johnny, who was having a hard time keeping a straight face. “Watch this,” she mouthed silently. She took a deep breath and let out a piercing shriek, laughing hysterically when Desoto whipped around, his hair standing on end.
“My God, Louisa!” he gasped, clutching his chest. “What are you trying to do, scare me to death?!?”
“Want me to call a squad for you, Pally?” snorted Gage. “I wish you could have seen the look on your face!” he cackled. “It was absolutely priceless!”
Matthew jumped out from behind the sofa and stood in front of his mother, a scowl on his face. “Mama, we were gonna surprise you,” he pouted. “You were supposed to come in the front door!”
“I am surprised, Munchkin,” grinned Louisa, bending down to hug her son. “Tell you what; after dinner, we can get out the hose and have a water balloon fight, okay?”
“It's not the same,” muttered the boy. “Daddy, make her do it right!”
“You heard him, honey,” chuckled the Captain. “Be a sport and let us greet you properly.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“There's enough food here to feed an army !” smiled Louisa as she surveyed the loaded picnic table. Her eyes drifted to the charcoal pit set up in a corner of the yard. “I can't believe you bought an entire pig! We'll be eating on that thing for weeks!”
“No, we won't sweetheart,” laughed Hank. “We can put the leftovers in the freezer. I cleaned out the one in the basement while you were in the hospital.”
“Thank God for small favors,” giggled the young woman. “I like pork, but not in mass quantities. Do I have time to take a shower before we eat?”
“Sure, but you want to wait until you greet all of your guests,” smiled the Captain. He turned to look at the barn, a broad grin lighting up his face. “You can come out now!” he called.
Louisa's mouth dropped open when the door opened and a slender woman with bright red hair emerged from the shadows. “Rachel?!?” she gasped. “Is it really you?!?” She ran forward to hug her friend, happy tears streaming down her cheeks. “It's so good to see you, girlfriend!”
Rachel laughed and returned the embrace. “That goes double for me, Louisa,” she answered. “I've missed you so much!”
“I was thinking about visiting you in San Francisco , but it seems you beat me to the punch!” exclaimed the young woman. “How long are you staying?”
“Oh, I'll be sticking around for a while,” said the redhead. “I applied for a job over at Rampart. I start on Monday.”
“That's terrific!” gushed Louisa. “Did you come alone or is there someone special in your life now?”
“Not anymore,” answered Rachel. “I was seeing a guy from work, but he turned out to be a real creep. He actually believed that it's the woman's job to stay home and please her man! I mean, how Victorian can one guy be?”
The young woman laughed. “More like Stone Age,” she joked. “I certainly hope you set him straight!”
“You bet I did! I told him he was acting like a jackass and to get with the program if he ever wanted to see me again. This jerk had the nerve to say that I would be begging him to come over after we had been apart a couple weeks.”
“I'm sure you responded in an adult, mature manner, too, right?” snickered Louisa, her lips twitching.
“But of course,” said Rachel. “I said yeah, begging him to take a flying leap into a barbeque pit with the other pigs!” She nudged her friend playfully. “You know something? The porker you have roasting over hot coals looks very familiar. Did he have a bristly little mustache and blue eyes?”
“No idea. We could always ask the cook. Come on.” She walked over to the pit, a innocent smile on her face.
“Oh man,” groaned Marco. “When my sister smiles like that, you just know she's up to no good, especially if Rachel's around to egg her on.”
Louisa studied the roasting animal carefully. “Excuse me, sir,” she said to the cook. “My friend and I were wondering if this particular pig had blue eyes when he was still alive.”
The man raised an curious eyebrow. “Well, yes, ladies, he did. His snout and chin were real hairy, too.” He winked and lowered his voice. “I overheard what you girls were saying about that guy. Tell me, what's his name?”
“Oliver Wilbur,” giggled Rachel, completely straight-faced.
“What a coincidence!” he replied. “This pig has almost the same name. The farmer called him Willy.”
The women glanced at each other and started giggling hysterically. “Did he have a spider friend named Charlotte ?” snorted Louisa. “He's ‘some pig'.”
Hank chose that moment to step in. “Stop bothering the man with your silly jokes, ladies,” he said sternly. “The Wilbur in that story lived to a ripe old age. He even had white hair on his chinny-chin-chin.”
“So did his two brothers,” squeaked Rachel. “You know, the ones who went from a straw shack to a stick hut to a brick house. You gonna huff and puff and blow them all down? No, wait; firemen use hoses !”
“I give up,” muttered the Captain as he walked away shaking his head. “You're both nuts. Getting the two of you together is like mixing gasoline and matches.”
“Because we're an explosive combination!” quipped Louisa. “Relax, honey. We're just goofing around a little. I promise we won't make any more mischief.”
The redhead frowned in disappointment. “Does this mean we're not gonna play Naked Twister later?” she asked sadly.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Two Hours Later
Hank and his crew sat on the back deck, listening to Joanne, Rachel, and Louisa giggle as they washed up the dishes. The Captain turned his head to look in the window and met his wife's eyes. She winked at him and leaned to whisper in the redhead's ear, making her blush and laugh even harder. “I have a feeling they're sharing a joke at our expense,” he said. “I think we should turn the tables a bit.”
Roy grinned and decided to play along. “I always thought Jo was conservative until we went on our honeymoon,” he chuckled. “When she came out of the bathroom on our wedding night, she was wearing a nightgown that was more than a little revealing, if you catch my drift.”
“She sure has the body for it,” commented Johnny with a leer. He laughed when his partner glared at him. “I'd never say it to her face, but Jo is a very sexy woman.”
“He's got a point, Roy ,” put in Marco. “If she wasn't your wife, I'd be tempted to court her myself.”
“What about your sister, pal?” asked Chet. “Lou's got a figure that could reduce a grown man to tears. Even after four kids, she's still smoking hot. When she visits the station wearing one of those short skirts, it's all I can do to keep from drooling. She's got more legs than a bucket of chicken.”
“I always thought Nurse Dixie had it going on,” said Mike, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Those bedroom eyes of hers really stiffen my hose.”
“I bet she could take care of it for you, Stoker,” laughed Gage. “Nurses are trained to offer relief to their patients. Just jump onto an exam table and let her ease your tension.”
The women gaped at each other, struggling to maintain their composure. “So they want to play dirty, huh?” whispered Joanne, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Louisa, did I ever tell you that Roy has the cutest little birthmark on his tush?” she said in her normal speaking voice.
The young woman choked back a snicker. “A spot on the moon, huh?” she answered. “While we're on the subject of butts, have you ever noticed Chet's? Some days, I just want to grab on and squeeze until he begs for mercy!”
Rachel sighed dreamily and licked her lips. “I'd love to get him alone and let my fingers do the walking,” she said. “All that chest hair makes me weak in the knees.”
“Why do you think I married my husband?” put in Louisa. “I've heard that if a man has a lot of body hair, he's great in the sack. I can say from experience that it's not just an old wives' tale. Hank is so frisky, it's a wonder either of us gets any sleep. Some times after the kids are in bed, we sneak out to the barn and get busy in the hay loft. We spend so much time out there, I keep a blanket hidden behind the bales.”
Marco grinned and elbowed his boss and brother-in-law. “Is that true, Cap?” he teased. “It figures my sister would enjoy a roll in the hay!”
Captain Stanley rolled his eyes and stood up. “All right, ladies , and I use the term lightly, you've made your point,” he huffed. “Enough locker room talk, boys.”
His wife burst out laughing and stuck her head through the open window. “You can dish it out, but you can't take it, huh?” she joked. “Hey, Chet, I still have my old cheerleading uniform in my closet. Should I put it on so you can drool over my legs?”
The Irishman blushed rosily and stared down at his shoes. “Uh, no, that's okay,” he mumbled.
“Hey!” hollered a voice from the front hall. “Where is everybody?”
“In here!” Louisa shouted back. “About time you guys got here. Rachel, have you met these turkeys?”
The redhead shook her head, staring at the leather-clad men in amazement. “Remnants of your misspent youth, Louisa?” she giggled.
“Something like that,” replied the young woman. “Guys, this is my friend, Rachel Potter. Rach, this is Paul Roland, Rick Dunkirk, Toby Wilder, and Gene Simpson, formally known as Mute Nostril Agony.”
“You mean, your brother wasn't kidding when he said you were in a band?” questioned Rachel. “How in the world did you come up with a name like that? What were you smoking and where can I get some?” she teased.
Paul grinned and slid an arm around Louisa's shoulders. “It's from an old Doors song. Lou here used to have a massive crush on Jim Morrison. In her eyes, he was the greatest thing since sliced bread and black leather pants.”
“What do you mean ‘used to', buster?” giggled the young woman. “Next to my husband, he's the sexiest man ever born. Keep it up and I'll tell everyone who used to decorate your bedroom walls, sweetheart. How many love letters did you write to her over the years? If she ever saw how ugly you are, I bet she'd run the other way.”
The guitarist playfully squeezed her cheeks between his hands. “I may be ugly, baby, but you make me look like Brad Pitt. You work in a hospital, for pity's sake. Why don't you get one of the doctors give you a new face and spare us the horror of your beastly countenance?”
Gene noticed Rachel's shocked expression and snickered. “Just ignore them, Rachel,” he said. “For those two loons, insulting each other comes as natural as breathing. Believe it or not, that's how they show affection.”
“Hey, I'm just trying to do her a favor,” laughed Paul. “Thank God her kids look more like their father. They'd have to wear bags over their heads. Ain't that right, Gruesome?”
“If you say so, Monkey Breath,” retorted Louisa, pulling away from her friend and pinching his bottom. “You know, modern science has come up with a wonderful new invention you should look into. It's called ‘mouthwash'. You might want the industrial strength or, better yet, try brushing your teeth more than once a century.”
Roland stepped back, unsuccessfully trying to look hurt. “This from a woman who orders extra garlic on her pizza before a gig. I'm surprised the fumes didn't set her hair on fire some nights. Talk about wicked dragon breath!”
“It keeps away the vampires,” giggled the young woman. “You might want to write that down, Chet. It could be useful, now that Halloween is only a few days away.”