Prologue

This is a story that bears little resemblance to other stories. Oh, yes, some of the characters are familiar, but their motivations are entirely different. No longer do they merely wish to satisfy the needs of the belly. Now they are searching for the symbols of their soul.

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"Where have you been lately?"

"I've been to the coast."

"That sounds nice."

"No, it was an uncomfortable journey where I confronted the ghosts of my past and perhaps the ghosts of my future."

"That's heavy. Did you find no consolations on the coast?"

"Only Old Milwaukee."

Chapter 1

Jeremiah Jacuzzi was an archaeologist from Texas A&M, specializing in ancient pig sties and outhouses. On this particular expedition, he was in the wilds of South Texas, just north of Corpus Christi, near a hamlet called Mathis.

"Pass me an Old Mil, Jaguar." Jaguar Jetson was Jeremiah's graduate assistant. He was from North Dime Box, a suburb of Dime Box, where second and third cousins of Bellys lived.

"Sure, but that's our last one, Dr. Jacuzzi."

"What the hell! Oh, well, we'll pick some up at the next B6 we come to."

"Good thinkin', Doc."

Jaguar asked, "what's with the Old Mil anyway? When most people have a choice, they drink real beer. I'm not saying I wouldn't drink one if that's all that's left, but heck, even in College Station, you can almost always find another beer that's just as cheap and tastes better. Am I missing something about Old Mil? Something that's important in the larger Aggie picture that I just can't see from my smaller Aggie picture? How do I keep my Aggie pictures straight anyway? I've often wondered about that."

Jeremiah looked askance at Jagaur, ruefully though not quite dismissively, and thought to himself, "Don't slap him. He's just an Aggie student after all. I don't really understand it myself (it being the lure and power of Old Milwaukee in the can) and I'm a TSM (Trans-Sans Man). Maybe someday he'll understand."

Jaguar heard Dr. Jacuzzi say nothing, and took that as an invitation to keep talking. So, he said, "I'm not saying we all have to be like those UT pukes and drink nothing but Shiner. I'm sort of a Bud man myself. That's American, as I see it. If Bud's not American, what is? Sure, it's a German name, but dadgum it, it's a German-American name. Right? Don't tell me it's French, or I'll give it up cold, I can tell you that.

"Anyway, I know it's dadgum important to get your beer selection down right. Shoot, a hundred years from now, or even sixty, I know good and well that people will be digging right around here, looking to see what kind of beer we were drinking right now, today. Well, shoot, I don't want those diggers to find me with the wrong dadgum beer in my hand when they dig me up, I can tell you that. But there's always this question that keeps coming back to me - what's the best dadgum beer to have in your hand in the archaeologist sense? What beer says "Aggie from Dime Box" the very dadgum bestest? I'm thinking Bud, but shoot, I could be wrong. If I'm wrong, though, I don't know I'm wrong. So, shoot, it would be wrong to switch until I know, wouldn't it? Especially to something really sorry like Old Mil, that could be just as wrong and taste like crap on top of everything. Dadgum, doc, beer selection is dadgum complicated, ain't it?"

Jeremiah had known Jaguar was not the brightest piglet in the stye. Belly third cousins from North Dime Box seldom were. But he sure knew how to use a shovel. And for that reason, and that reason alone, Jeremiah was willing to look the other way.

"Sometimes, Jag, it's not the taste or the texture of the beer that's important. It's what the beer symbolizes."

"Huh," was all Jaguar could say.

"TSMs drink Old Mil because La-Pau drinks it. It's as simple as that."

Jaguar said, "You know what - I was wonderin' about that too. Well, sort of daydreamin' about it in animal husbandry class is what I done. I'll tell you somethin' - that animal husbandry is one boring dadgum class is what it is. Anyway, I was just wonderin' to myself, and nobody else at the time, until later on at a few bars in town, oh around four or five hours later, maybe less, anyway, what I was wondering, first to myself and then to other folks, mainly Aggies, was what on earth are we doin' drainking this dadgum Bud when there must be nine beers to choose from, in any dadgum bar in town? Well, that there's a question that can flat freeze up a lot of Aggies, but not me. I went on to wonder, why on earth don't we make a point to drink at least one other beer ever dadgum night, that ain't a Bud? So I'll tell you what I done - I had me a dadgum Guiness right there on the spot. And it set me to pukin' is what it done. And that right there told me that this science business can be one sorry job. Shoot, now I know good and well what it means to be a Little belly Belly, and get stuck with this thinkin' mess. And it's one sorry way to make a livin', I can tell you that, even when you ain't makin' a livin' cause you're an Aggie. See?"

Jeremiah then saw a sign that read "The Haunted Outhouse" and turned left.

"Damn! That was sudden, Doc!"

Jeremiah was on the verge of tearing out his hair when suddenly the dirt road came to a sudden stop. Jaguar cried out,

Jeremiah remained calm. "Let's get out and take a look around."

They climbed over the gate and started walking down the dirt road. The trees were hanging with moss and somewhere not too far away an owl hooted. Jagaur said, "That sounded like a Belly in the throes of passion."

The thought of a Belly making love was not a pleasant one thought Jeremiah so he turned his thoughts to the situation at hand.

"Do you smell anything?"

"Yea, it smells like a Belly in the throes of passion."

Jaguar continued, "Doc, I know me a little about outhouses. Oh, I ain't sayin' I'm one of those outhouse experts like some of those folks who flat out live and sleep and eat in the dadgum outhouse, but I know me a little, I can tell you that. And the main thing I know about outhouses is that you've got to be dadgum careful about where you dig when you're archelologin' around where outhouses have been. Cause see, outhouse remains don't go to fossil right away. Shoot, it can take dadgum near forever. And when the old outhouse holes ain't even close to bein' no dadgum fossils, what they are is stinkin' and flat out filthy is what they are. So, we got to be dadgum careful about where we dig. See?"

Stay here, Jag, I'll be right back." A few minutes later Jeremiah came back with a shovel. He handed it to Jag. "Start digging."

"What you going to do?"

"I'm going to find the nearest B6 and load up on Old Milwaukee and Moon Pies. Shouldn't take more than a few hours."

Jaguar said, "dadgum good idea! Now, looky here, I'm gonna need some help comin' up with a list of what I need you to pick me up there, see? First off, I'm just flat hung up on the beer selection. Should I get off Bud, branch out to Bud lite, try that Corona, or some other foreign beer, or what not? Shoot, doc, you got to help me out here. I'm havin' me a beer pickin' crisis is what I'm havin'.

"Now, you can sure mark me down for some Moon Pies. Shoot, there ain't no questions need to be asked 'bout that. Are they? They ain't no controvery goin' on 'bout Moon Pies that I ain't heard 'bout, is they? Dadgum, this fud business can sure get a lot more complicated than I ever knew about.

"Anyway, along with the beer, Bud or what not, and the Moon Pies, get me a dozen boxes of beef jerky, six or ten big ol' bags of tater chips, fourteen barbecue sandwiches, seventeen hot dogs, tweleve Earl Campbell hot links and, oh, four pints of chocolate ice cream. It don't matter what brand I reckon. Just get chocolate if you can. Can you think of anything I forgot, doc?"

Jeremiah had no idea where the nearest B6 was, so he called Aggieland on his cell phone and asked for the GPS office. As it turned out a B6 had opened up in Mathis the month before. Mathis was about five miles down the road.

Entering the store, Jeremiah walked over to the counter and handed his list over to a gal named (she had a name tag) Brouhau Belly. She looked at it a moment and said, "Not very hungry?"

"You could say that. By the way, have you heard any stories about a haunted outhouse."

Brouhau eyed the stranger suspiciously and replied, "How did you know about that?"

"Because it's my business. I'm Professor Jeremiah Jacuzzi from A&M. I'm an archaeologist."

"Glad to meet you, Doc."

Chapter 2

After Dr. Jacuzzi took off, Jaguar continued, talking to Buffy Campbell, another intern on the team, "You know what, this here's more like it when it comes to college work. I like 'bout everything about this college business except for two things - classes and books. I ain't really cut out for that mess, but shoot, I could do this college business all day long. Diggin' nice little holes, doin' my archeologin' pokin' 'round in 'em, and what not. You know what I mean?"

Buffy said, "Well, Jag, it's gonna be a little hard to get through college without those classes and books."

Jaguar said, "That's what I used to think too, but see, Dr. Jacuzzi has set me to thinkin' is what he done. See, he don't never come to College Station. He's off somewhere diggin' all the time, drinkin' beer and eatin' Moon Pies. That there's what I want! 'Course, I reckno you got to get you a doctor paper somewhere too. But then, maybe I could just go straight to bein' a archeology digger, but not the doctor kind, see? Maybe a veterinarina type of archelogy digger. I'll dig up nothin' but animals! Shoot, you shoulnd't need no dadgum doctor papers to do that should you? Dadgum, that's it! I'll be a animal archeologist! No more dadgum classes! No more dadgum books!"

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The B6 was full of knick knacks. Jeremiah spied a small statue of a pony in a dusty corner shelf and asked Brouhau if he could take a closer look at it. The pony was made of porcelain and the poor horse had lost one of its hooves in a careless accident. Jeremiah mused, "This poor little statue's loss is mankind's loss. The world is poorer today for what happened yesterday.

Brouhau looked puzzled, "Shouldn't it be richer?"

Jeremiah shook his head and wondered if in another life he had been a bullfrog, "If archaelogists believed that things got better over time we wouldn't be so interested in looking back at time."

Brouhau who was a real Belly and not burdened by the limitations of a small stomach, replied, "What you talking about?"

"I'm merely saying that we live in poverty and it's only bound to get worse." And with that remark Jeremiah staggered out the door, loaded down with snacks for Jaguar.

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Buffy asked Jaguar, "Jag, you ever wonder if maybe you're missing some of what we're looking for with these digs?" Jaguar replied, "Oh sure. Shoot, I'm always sayin' to myself, 'not the dirt, not the little ol' rocks; other stuff. Keep a eye out for the other stuff.' Dadgum right, I'm always a wonderin' if I might a missed some a that other stuff."

Buffy said, "Well, sure, but what I mean is putting yourself back when this stuff we're digging up was part of a living culture, as alive as any current culture. That's why we sift though all this stuff, Jag, to try to recapture that."

Jaguar replied, "Dadgum right. I know exactly what you mean. Like, what kind a beer were they drinkin' back then? That there's what's always makin' me wonder did I miss some other stuff. Ain't found one dadgum beer bottle yet. No cans neither. Shoot, I just wonder if I might a stepped on 'em and broke 'em. That there wouldn't be no kind a way to do this archeologin' at all, would it, Buffy?"

The two rut dirt road from the Marion B6 to the Haunted Outhouse was a road like no other. Scattered along the road on both sides were the remnants of commodes. These commodes were of various shapes, sizes, and colors. Jeremiah wondered what they symbolized for surely they must symbolize something or else why would they be there and why would he be thinking that they symbolized something unless such a thought was appropriate at this point in the narrative.

Why indeed?

Chapter 3

Buffy said, "Well, Jag, I don't think you're going to find any beer cans or bottles around here. If you do, we probably don't care about them. See, the main thing we're looking for is remains of a small society that believed some of its outhouses were haunted. The main things the doc is after, then, are artifacts and structures that might support that theory."

Jaguar replied, "Well, shoot, looks to me like beer bottles would go a long way to explainin' why folks would think their dadgum outhouse was haunted. 'Sides, beer bottles is dadgum important all on their own, see. It sure would be a shame to leave a mess of real nice beer bottles and cans out here just 'cause they wadn't in the old outhouse hole. Fact is, I ain't real keen on diggin' in them old outhouse holes anyways. Shoot, I done dug in them kinda holes before and got myself into a mess is what I got myself into.

"See, once I get to diggin' my nice little holes, I just don't think I can go turnin' off my looker just 'cause I didn't find nothin' that looked like hanunted outhouse stuff. Probably can't turn it off when I'm doin' my animal archelologin' stuff neither, dadgum it. I don't know how I'm gonna get that business goin'. I think of somethin', though."

Buffy said, "Darn, Jag, that makes a lot of sense! Maybe the haunted outhouse legend was originated by people who were under the influence of drugs. We'll have to keep that in mind, won't we?"

Jaguar said, "Dadgum right! Shoot, you start diggin' around College Station, and I guarantee you'll find Bud cans close to dadgum near ever disaster we ever had. Dig up 'round the bon fire wood that went to rollin' over them folks, and there's them Bud cans. Happens dadgum near ever dadgum time."

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This symbol business was driving Jeremiah crazy. After all, wasn't reality itself symbolic? Why search for something that was already there? It was the opposite of looking for a needle in a haystack. On one level, the commode remnants were symbolic of modern man's tendency to discard old things. Yet, he, Jeremiah, had dedicated his life to finding and preserving old things. Were these commodes crying out to him that they too were worthy of preservation? As usual, Jeremiah found himself struggling with the symbols that bore witness to the workings of his soul.

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Chapter 4

Jeremiah was so absorbed in the symbolic workings of his soul, he didn't notice the fork in the two rut road and instead of taking the high road he took the low road and instead of ending up at the Haunted Outhouse he ended up in a place called Calallen. Looking for help on directions, he stopped in front of a house that was somewhat hoisted off the ground. In front of the house, by the hedgerow, and behind an old oak tree, was a commode. Another commode! Why in this part of Texas were commodes everywhere except inside? Jeremiah then realized that he must be in one strange place.

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Jaguar then asked Buffy, "Tell me somethin'. If it had been you pickin' your name, the Buffy part, is that what you'd have come up with?" Buffy said, "You know, I don't think it would have been my first choice. I'm used to it now, though, so I'm OK with it."

Jaguar said, "Well, I'll tell you what. I wouldn't have picked Jaguar in a million years is what I wouldn't a done. Shoot, they ain't nobody says it right. Some'll say "jag-war," others'll say "jag-wire" or "jag-u-wire." Dadgum, I don't even know how to say it my own self sometimes. It's a dadgum sorry name! I don't know what my mama and daddgy was thinkin'. Everbody else in the whole dadgum family has got these nice two-word names, like Billy Bob or Donnie Bob or Beulah Faye or what not. All I got is dadgum Jaguar. Didn't even get a middle name! And the one dadgum name I got is sorry! Shoot, I'm just wonderin' if what went wrong is mama and daddy went to usin' indoor plumbing just before I was born. I'm thinkin' it messed up their name thinkin. See?"

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Jeremiah knocked on the door and a lady appeared, one who reminded him of the legendary La-Pau. He asked her for directions to the Haunted Outhouse, to which she gladly complied. As he was walking back toward his vehicle, the lady called out, "I'm sorry I didn't offer you an Old Mil but I'm all out." Jeremiah froze in his tracks and turned around. "You are La-Pau!". The lady smiled and gave Jeremiah a knowing wink. "Yea, but don't go around telling people. I just got married and I want a little privacy." What could Jeremiah say but, "Of course not. Congratulations, by the way." and headed back to his vehicle, this time more intent on paying attention to where he was going.

Jeremiah couldn't shake the visions of broken commodes strewn across the barren landscape. Then he had a revelation. His old buddy, Professor Ezekiel Etchasketch at Texas Tech was an expert in the field of commodology. Jeremiah whipped out his cell phone and made a call to Lubbock.

"Is that you Zeke? This is your old pal, Jerry, from Aggieland."

"Yea, Jerr, what's happening?"

"I'm on the South Texas coast, just above Corpus, looking for the legendary Haunted Outhouse. Everywher I go I see broken commodes strewn across the barren landscape. I thought you could tell me what they symbolized."

"Still on that symbols of the soul search thing? I thought you'd given up by now."

"Never, Zeke, never. But tell me, what do you think about these commode remnants I'm seeing all over the place?"

Zeke said, "Well, I could tell you what I know or describe the various theories. Or, I could mix what I know into the theoretical discussion. That's what I like to do most of the time, as you may know, so that's what I'll do here.

"Now, one theory is that the commodes were put there by South Texas hurricanes, and no one picked them up in rural areas because a broken commode has no use. The TVs, microwaves and EZ Boys can all be sripped for parts, but with a commode, either it works or it's uselsss, so no one goes to the trouble of picking them up out of fields and taking them home.

"Another theory is that the commodes were put there by a sect of cattle mutilators who use the commode in their rituals.

"There's another theory that immigrants from Mexico bring broken commodes along to mark immigration routes for folks that will follow them north. Mexico makes a lot of commodes that are cheap, especially when they're broken. They'll survive rough weather for years, and the white color makes them easy to see from a distance.

"Another theory I've heard is that a very small sect distributes the commodes for ritualistic purposes, but not cattle mutiliation. No one knows much about the group, so that makes this the hottest theory around. Something about sets of ten in commode distribution in an area, both inside and outside. Pretty strange, so I sure hope there's something to it. I hate those boring theories."

Before hanging up Jeremiah told Zeke thanks and asked Zeke to give his regards to Zeke's wife, Naomi Ruth and their two sons, Zebediah Aristotle and Enrique Plato.

Now the last theory struck a chord. Were the commodes in sets of ten? Jeremiah started counting and as he counted he would stop at ten and then start back at one. Sure enough there were, on average, forty sets of ten commodes per mile.

Jeremiah scratched his head and began putting more pieces of the puzzle together. Why was La-Pau, the Decadian Empress, now living in this area? Did it have something to do with commodes in sets of ten? It was a conundrum, no doubt about it. Jeremiah knew that this was getting over his head. Who could help him with this situation of growing complexity?

Maybe it was time to call...

Chapter 5

La-Pau was on her honeymoon and ergo, unavailable. Who was the second greatest expert in the world on the Decadian cult? Jeremiah thought long and hard, then it came to him. Of course! A Decadent! (A Decadent was the term used for an ex-communicated Decadian heretic). And who was the foremost Decadent? None other than Sa-Moth Sinkey. Jeremiah immediately called Aggieland Central and asked for So-Math's cell phone number. He dialed it in and waited. Would So-Math answer and would he have the answers? While he waited Jeremiah formulated his questions:

1) Was So-Math knowledgeable of the Ten Commodes by the Roads Theory?

2) If he was, what did it mean?

3) Why was So-Math ex-communicated?

4) Did it have something to do with his condemnation of Old Milwaukee?

5) Was it true that So-Math had actually confronted the Bellys about the impropriety of the Belly annual Holey Days in Dime Box?

Minutes later, Jermiah's phone beeped. It was Somath. He seemed to know exactly what was on Jermiah's mind, without being told much at all. Either he'd been briefed by someone, in Aggieland maybe, or he was clairvoyant.

Somath began, "so, you're looking into the South Texas commodes?" Without pausing for a response from Jeremiah, Somath began an interrupted soliloquy, providing both questions and answers for a conversation with himself.

"So, you may be asking yourself where those commodes came from, and do they have anything to do with Decadian sects. Well, here's a thought. If you presided over an organization that was divided between outhouse users and inhouse users and you wanted to unite them culturally, it just might occur to you to begin telling both groups to use commodes daily, whether in their house or outside their house. Get people together on the most mundane activities, you see, and more complex actions are pretty easy to manipulate.

"And then, if you were a very shrewd organizer, you just might add a very attractive adult beverage to your set of rituals, yet another item to unite the membership. If that beverage turned out to be, say, Old Milwaukee beer, you'd have something literally everyone can afford, since it's the least expensive beer in almost every market in the world where it's carried, and all members would be united by a communal experience - drinking a cheap beer that doesn't taste real good. Add a little suffering, but not too much, to a ritual, and it becomes more meaningful to the membership. Add the suffering with a drink that can be afforded in volume by almost anyone, and you have the promise of relief from the suffering by just drinking more. You can see how easy it could be to create a very loyal following with that approach.

"Now, you might also be asking yourself, 'what if folks just don't like the idea of putting a commode in their outhouse or in the yard when they don't have an inhouse, just to experience a communal ritual? And then, what if folks just can't handle drinking Old Milwaukee. Could they become Shiner heretics? And would a shrewd by ruthless organizational leader see a need to rid an organizaiton of folks who could screw up the very effective rituals that had come to unite the organization?

"Those are some good questions you might have asked. If you were to answer them, you just might find yourself getting close to the source of the great commode mystery. See?"

Chapter 6

Buffy said, "Wow, that's an interesting theory, Jag. Speaking of outhouses, I've got to go use the Porta-Potty. That's sort of an outhouse, I guess. I'll think of children's names while I'm there, and see what I come up with." Jaguar said, "Dadgum good idea there, Buffy. Your chilren will be dadgum glad years from now."

Minutes later, Buffy heard Jaguar say "Dadgum, I found something!" Then she heard him say, "Shoot, it's a dadgum treasure chest!" Next, "No, that ain't it." A minute later, he said, "Must be a dadgum car!" Then, "No, that ain't it. Shoot!" She heard nothing after that. When she returned from the Porta-Potty, Buffy walked over to where Jaguar was digging and asked, "Did you find something?" Jaguar said, "Oh, it wadn't nothin'. Just a dadgum Mexican stop sign." He pointed to the object where he had tossed it, several feet away. Buffy took a look.

"Jag, this isn't a stop sign. That's an octagon. This is a decagon. That means it has ten sides. And the writing on it isn't in Spanish, but Latin. I think you've found something big, Jag!"

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Jeremiah's phone beeped again, and once again, he was in store for a stream of information that uncannily addressed exaclty what he was thinking about. Something was going on here! He'd worry about that later; one mystery at a time.

This time, the speaker was Yessirree Bob Commandanche. He began, "Shoot, I'm doin' purty good. Thanks for askin. On the outhouse issue, I reckon you could say I'm a moderate. I can go in or out. I will drink that Old Milwaukee, but it sure ain't my favorite. I'm purty well a Coors man.

"Now, does PU fit this story? Dadgum right! Shoot, PU fits darn near any place. I'll tell you something, though. I'm having me a little bit of a PU problem right now. I know too much! I know, and can't work up a decent doubt no matter how hard I try. Well, what good is that? You miss the whole PU experience. Knowing too much can be a real pain.

"Now, my agent tells me I'm doing extraneous now, but we're in negotiations. You'd think I could get a good PU worked up about that. Problem is, I just don't care. Don't you worry, though. I'll get me some good uncertainty working any time now, you just watch."

Jeremiah couldn't quite explain it but he felt enlightened and emboldened. So-Math had provided some crucial answers to some equally crucial questions. But the glass was not quite full. There will still yet questions to ask. But who could ask? Of course! Yessirree Bob Commandanche, the founder of PPU. Jeremiah thought long and hard and came up with the following questions:

1) How you're doing, YB?

2) Are you an outhouser or an inhouser?

3) Do you drink Old Milwaukee?

4) Do you see any way we can finagle PU into this story?

5) Are you an extraneous character?

+++

Jeremiah's phone beeped again, and once again, he was in store for a stream of information that uncannily addressed exaclty what he was thinking about. Something was going on here! He'd worry about that later; one mystery at a time.

This time, the speaker was Yessirree Bob Commandanche. He began, "Shoot, I'm doin' purty good. Thanks for askin. On the outhouse issue, I reckon you could say I'm a moderate. I can go in or out. I will drink that Old Milwaukee, but it sure ain't my favorite. I'm purty well a Coors man.

"Now, does PU fit this story? Dadgum right! Shoot, PU fits darn near any place. I'll tell you something, though. I'm having me a little bit of a PU problem right now. I know too much! I know, and can't work up a decent doubt no matter how hard I try. Well, what good is that? You miss the whole PU experience. Knowing too much can be a real pain.

"Now, my agent tells me I'm doing extraneous now, but we're in negotiations. You'd think I could get a good PU worked up about that. Problem is, I just don't care. Don't you worry, though. I'll get me some good uncertainty working any time now, you just watch."

It had been over three hours since Jeremiah had last seen Jaguar and he was getting worried. A shovel in that boy's hands could be classified as a deadly weapon if it was used on precious ancient artifacts. Then Jeremiah remembered he had sent a request to Aggieland Central for an additional helper, specifically a cute, blonde coed with a name like Bonkers or Bunny. It was always good to have an intellectually diverse team. It tended to keep morale up on long digs in the hot sun.

+++

Jaguar asked Buffy, "What's it say?" Buffy replied, "Well, I can't make out very much. I don't know much Latin." Jaguar said, "I like that Latin music right smart. Well, all except the singin'. That's that Latin American talkin' what's on there?" Buffy said, "No, they speak Spanish in Latin American, not Latin." Jaguar said, "Shoot, reckon they know that? They ought to change the dadgum name." Buffy said, "I don't think that's what they call it down there. I think it's just what we call it." Jaguar replied, "Well, shoot, somebody's dadgum messed on this Latin business, I can tell you that. What do you think the dadgum stop sign lookin' thing says?"

Buffy said, "Well, I don't really know. It looks to me like it's divided into ten sections, listing ten different groups of towns, maybe, and there's numbers marked for the different locations, if that's what they are. At least, that's my guess."

Jaguar said, "Who'd be markin' stuff down with Latin when they don't even talk that in Latin dadgum America?"

Buffy said, "No many people use Latin anymore, but it was used more widely years ago. This may be a very old artifact! Nowadays, Latin is called a 'dead language.'"

Jaguar said, "Well, shoot, I reckon that's why that dadgum stop sign was buried! Recknon I ought to bury it back, seein' how it's dead?"

Buffy said, "No! It's OK, Jag! This is a good find. Let's keep it!"

Jaguar said, "Well, shoot, if it's a dead language, maybe that's what dead people talk. Reckon them haunted outhouses is haunted by folks talkin' that Latin stuff?"

Buffy said, "I just don't know, Jag. Could be, though. Maybe they're talkin' about what's on this platter. We'll have to find out."

Chapter 7

Texas Tom had died in a tragic accident (or was it an accident? - some say Mosath Eyskin and the Skinny Ones were involved) in the Blue Ridge Mountains near Chattanooga. Ever since then his disembodied voice had surfaced at strategic moments in the narrative. Would it surface again? Only time would tell.

+++

Jaguar continued, "Why's it got ten sides instead of a regular stop sign?" Buffy said, "I just don't know, Jag. Look's kinda odd, doesn't it?"

Jaguar said, "I'll just bet it's cause them Latins was on the metric system. That there's somethin' that oughta be dead, dadgum it. Messes me up ever time I mess 'round on my dadgum Toyota is what it does. Sorry dadgum metric bidness. That metric stuff is nothin' but trouble."

Buffy said, "Well, that's an interesting idea, Jag. You don't see a lot of decagons among historical artifacts, at least you don't as far as I know. I don't know about the metric connection, though. I'm guessing that this goes back farther than the metric system."

Jaguar said, "You see any screw holes on that thing? I could try me some of them dadgum metric screws what's on the Toyota, see if they'll fit."

Buffy said, "No, there's no holes. Some rust here and there, but it's in remarkably good condition. And no tool marks! You did a great job of digging it up, Jag."

Jaguar said, "Oh no, I ain't gonna go smashin' up none a that other stuff. Might be smashin' a dadgum Bud can is what I might be doin', and there goes the dadgum archeologin', is what that there would do. Shoot, I wish the dadgum doc would get back! I'm kinda hungry! Sides, I need to find out how I can be a archeologist without all that book bidness."

+++

Jeremiah pulled into the dig site and saw the cute, blonde Aggie coed, "Hi, Binky".

"My name's Buffy and hello to you, Dr. Jacuzzi."

"Just call me Doc. Hey, Jag, are you hungry?"

Dumb question. Half of the moon pies and all the Earl Campbells were gone in about five minutes.

Buffy spoke up, "Doc, I think we've found something that might interest you."

"Does it have anything to do with the number ten?"

Buffy said, "Yes!  How did you know?!  Anyway, doc, I have the artifact in a safe place. We'll look at that later. I can tell you that it's big. Maybe Nobel Prize big! Maybe not. Guarantee, though, that it's American Journal of Archaeology big, front cover, slam dunk.

Dr. Jacuzzi said, "No offense, Bundy, but I'll have to judge that for myself.."

Buffy said, "No you won't! You'll take my word for it, or Jag and I will take it out of here! Look, I've taken four of your classes at A&M. If you ever showed up in classs instead of those dopey teaching assts., you'd know that. Furthermore, I've read all your books. I've also read books by people who have actually been finding things the last 15 years, doc, while you've been drinking away fellowship money. So frankly, doc, I probably have a better idea how valuable our find is that you would.

"So, you sit there and be quiet! If you cooperate, Jag and I will share the find with you. Get any ideas about cutting us out of this, and you'll never see it without an admission ticket.