The Haunted Outhouse, Part 5

Book Three That Was Never Meant To Be

Chapter 43

The next morning at breakfast, D.B. said, "Shoot!  You should a told me 'fore now!  I ain't got my dadgum breedin' deal overalls here!  I just got my reglur overalls, see?  That ain't right!"

Buffy said, "Sorry, Mr. Belly!  We didn't decide ourselves until last night.  Those overalls look great, anyway!"

D.B. said, "Wail see, they ain't got the pockets a my breedin' deal overalls, so's they ain't near enough room for totin' 'mergency fud for while you're sittin' through a long dadgum breedin' deal, see?  Dadgum, one a them real long breedin' deals will flat out storve you is what they'll do.  I ain't never been to one without my breedin' deal overalls.  Shoot, my own dadgum breedin' deal would a kilt me is what it would a done, if I hadn't had them extry pockets.  Dadgum, I reckon I'll just have to brang me little sack is what I'll have to do.  I cain't thank a nothin' else.  Can you?"

Jaguar said, "Uncle D., it's not going to take a real long time.  I think you'll be OK.  Now, it's going to be inside the Decave, and I know you don't like..."

D.B. said, "Good Lord, no!  You ain't gettin' me down in that dadgum hole!  Shoot, I don't like them holes!  Sides, I get down and go to storvin', and they won't be no way to get me out a there!  Shoot, I'll just be stuck in that dadgum hole for never and never, all a storvin'!  I ain't gonna do it!"

Jaguar said, "Uncle D., we've got the ramp now, a dadgum nice ladder.  You won't go down that?"

D.B. said, "Shoot no!  Looky here, cain't you do the dadgum deal up on top a the ground?  Shoot, it's right close to that dadgum old hole.  Won't make a dadgum bit a difference is what it won't make."

Buffy said, "Sounds right to me.  How about you, Jag?  After all, we came together on the dirt on top, not in the cave."

Jaguar replied, "Dadgum good point.  OK, uncle D., you've got it.  We'll do it up top."

D.B. said, "Well shoot yes!  Dadgum, this here's gonna be fun.  Can I sang?"

+++

Around 11 a.m., La-Pau arrived at the dig site.  Jaguar greeted her, "Mornin' Your Her Highness, thanks for comin' out."

La-Pau said, "Mornin', Jag.  Let's make it L.P., OK?  That other stuff takes too long, wastes my time."

Jaguar said, "You've got it, L.P.  This is Buffy, she's my fiancé, and also the person who discovered the Decave.  She named it too.  Without Buffy, we wouldn't be here today."

La-Pau said, "Well, great to meet you.  Thanks for the great find."

Buffy said, "You're welcome.  I didn't really do very much.  I just read a book about The Order Of the Ten and guessed that this was a promising area to look for remnants of Decadian records.  If Jag hadn't had some darn good instincts about where to dig, better than those of the archeology professor we worked for and mine as well, we wouldn't have.  We made a good team, but we also got lucky."

La-Pau said, "There is no luck.  There is is.  You tapped into Decadian is.  No problem if that sounds strange; I'm used to it.  Just understand that you wouldn't have found this if you hadn't first been selected, and then chose to be led.  Don't worry if you don't really get it.  I do, and that's all that matters. 

"Anyway, you probably know more about the history than I do.  As HHD, my job is to make history, not study it.  I'm not going to let that stuff cramp my style.  HHDs do what they want; screw what those others did.  At least, that's how I do it.  As for recording current history, that's for scribes, while they last.  I go through some scribes. 

"I'm glad to see everything that was in the Decave, though!  Great stuff.  Explains a lot.  I'm all for having UT take care of it, though.  You think I want all that at my place?  A bunch of old books and plates, mainly in Latin?  Who wants to see that kind of stuff all the time?  Not me!  I see enough weird crap as it is.  If I served a limited term and could then put everything I don't want to see all the time in a library like presidents get, great.  I'm stuck doing this for life!  Fill my house up with a bunch of old stuff, and I'm stuck with that too!  Believe me, it gets really old.

"At any rate, I am very grateful to both of you.  Now, shall we take a closer look?"

Jaguar said, "Anytime you want, L.P.  There's something we'd like to talk about first.  Buffy and I want to close an OM deal today.  Would you preside?"

L.P. said, "Gosh!  I've never done one, but I've always wanted to!  Looks like great fun!  I did an OM deal myself, my most recent deal, as a matter of fact.  Mine was screwed up, solely because the OM ritual wasn't conducted right.  I won't forget!  I made the correction, of course.  An HHD can correct any ritual, retroactively, proactively, whatever.  It's just something we do.  It's the non-ritual crap that can be a pain, so I really don't like it when I get bad ritual. 

"So, heck, let's do it!  Just tell me when and where, and get the OM ready.  I'm ready!"

Jaguar said, "L.P., this is my uncle Donnie Bob Belly.  He will be here as a family witness."

L.P. said, "Hi, Mr. Belly.  This must be a happy day!"

D.B. said, "Dadgum right!  We ain't gonna go hungry neither, I can tell you that.  Got a mess a fud comin' over.  Ain't no good to do a breedin' deal without a mess a fud, is there?"

L.P. said, "Breedin' deal?  Gosh, now that you mention it, food really fits!  And booze!"

D.B. said, "Oh shoot yes!  We'll dadgum sure have us some a that, I can tell you that!"

La-Pau began the ceremony, "Alright, folks, I'll get right to the point.  According to the value system symbolized by this ritual, the two people who share the contents of the quart bottle of Old Milwaukee beer I am holding will be joined in a One Marriage contract.  The specific provisions of that marriage arrangement are whatever the hell they negotiate individually.  What will be witnessed and documented today is that they will become joined in a marriage deal.  The deal lasts until one of two things happens.  First, one of the parties in the One Marriage deal can break the bottle in the presence of the other party, who must be awake, conscious, and in the same room, with a clear view of the breaking bottle.  Second, one of the parties can die, ending the deal after he or she has been buried for 30 days.  The bottle must then be broken by the surviving party to end the deal.  Anybody here who doesn't like these provisions?  It doesn't matter either way, because they aren't negotiable.  That's an FYI question-statement, see.  You two parties, once you've consumed the contents of this bottle, the deal will be done.  Now, each of you has to drink at least ten ounces.  I'll pour."

Jaguar drank approximately 20 ounces, but Buffy showed high form, downing her 12 ounces in a single swig, with no leakage of foam or liquid.  The OM record would show that she received 10.0 OM style points, while Jaguar scored 9.8, according to D.B.  "Jagwar lost four drop on the last swaller, dadgum it.  Still, it was purty good drankin'.  That there Buffy done dadgum perfect is what she done.  Shoot, I ain't seem wimmin do no better."     

L.P. then declared, "The deal is done.  Sign and date the bottle, note your number, and take care of that bottle.  Break it by accident or otherwise, and you'll go through all this again if you want an intact deal.  Now, go ahead and kiss or whatever.  I'm through, and ready to eat."

D.B. said, "Dadgum right!"

Chapter 44

St. Taw's phone beeped.  The caller said, "Howdy.  This is Buford Ledbetter.  If you don't know who I am, you should."

St. Taw said, "I plead guilty.  Now, tell me why I should be talking to you."

Ledbetter said, "Dadgum, don't you know?  You want to know about Belly brains, and I know about them, at least as much as can be known, as far as I know."

St. Taw said, "I'm listening."

Ledbetter said, "I'll give you one free sample, then we'll talk about a fee.  Ask me about any Belly, and I'll tell you what I know."

St. Taw said, "OK, I'll ask about a Belly member I know something about, and see how your info. stacks up.  Jaguar Jetson."

Ledbetter said, "True photographic memory, IQ in the 150 range.  He'll bore you to tears if you'll listen to him, describing every single shovel full of dirt he removed from a hole he dug, the number of rocks he removed from a particular ditch, and I could go on and on.  Lots of firsthand experience."

St. Taw asked, "You know his SAT?"

Ledbetter said, "I could get it.  No need.  I've got the scouting report."

St. Taw said, "Not bad.  What do you make of Belly intelligence in general?"

Ledbetter said, "You got the free one.  I'm on the meter now."

St. Taw said, "I can get five thousand for research.  What does that get me?"

Ledbetter said, "More than you've got now.  Less than you'd get for ten."

St. Taw asked, "Do you do anything for free?"

Ledbetter said, "Yes, but I don't talk about that for free."

St. Taw said, "OK, come on down to Mathis, TX.  I'll give you a check, and we'll talk."

Ledbetter said, "There will be travel expenses, of course."

St. Taw replied, "Of course."

+++

How do you explain the unexplainable?

Now a good bowel movement. That was easy. St. Taw had sold thousands of books telling people how to do something that they should have known how to do already. But to dress up a BM as a solemn act that unites individuals with their inner being was to turn going to the bathroom into a cosmic event.

But this La-Pau. Who was she and what did she do? For the first time, St. Taw realized that La Pau bore a striking resemblance to the Mysterious May who had appeared at a B6 in Dime Box and told him the answers were not in Chattanooga but in Mathis.  And so he had come here and all that he had found so far was evidence that Texalina really did exist.

Was there a connection between La Pau and Texalina? And how about these Sams who had all died in 1525 except for one Washington Atlantis Sam (WAS) who had escaped and reestablished the Sam line? Were the Sams still around today?

And how about the Bellys? Where had they come from and were they were connected to the Sams and also to La Pau?

St. Taw's head was beginning to swim. Probably the best thing to do right now was to WATTY... or was that potty?

St. Taw groaned.

Chapter 45

Buford Ledbetter visited St. Taw in his Mathis motel, as instructed.  Sitting down at a table in the room, Ledbetter said, "OK, this check is for five thousand even.  I'll deduct expenses, and give you ten hours of consultation, at four hundred per hour."

St. Taw said, "Four hundred?  That's very steep.  Oh well, it's not my money."

Ledbetter said, "Great point.  Now, where do you want to start?"

St. Taw said, "Donnie Bob."

Ledbetter said, "Good choice.  He's tough.  There's no hard data around on D.B.  He attended a small school that didn't keep records.  And then, he didn't attend that school regularly. 

"Anyway, I'll start off with a summary of what I know, or think I know.  You're not going to get definitive data on all Bellys, by the way.  We're talking about people who entered the industrialized 20th century, culturally, just forty years ago or so, and some of them still haven't made the trip.  Get used to ambiguity if you're going to study Bellys.

"Here's what I know about Donnie Bob.  He's highly resourceful and manipulative.  That's beyond question.  Does that mean he has great cognitive ability?  I don't know.  Look at his results, and you might think so.  Listen to him speak, though, as I have all my life, and you have no idea about anything.  Donnie Bob, on the other hand, always seems to know.  He knows when he's comfortable, and he knows when he isn't.  There is no gray area.  When he isn't, he takes decisive actions to regain comfort.  When he is, he takes decisive actions to maintain that state.  There is no waver in the D.B. psyche.   

"Here's a snapshot from D.B.'s childhood that will give you some insight into how his personality was shaped.  D.B.'s mother spent her youth completely isolated from towns and cities.  As a result, when she found out that she was required by law to send her children to public schools, she was completely baffled about why, and what was required.  Here's an example.

"When D.B.'s mother found out that her children were supposed to do 'home work', she was stumped.  All of them were already doing a lot of work on the family farm, which was their home.  So, Mrs. Belly decided that 'home work' assigned at school meant additional work, that somehow involved the books they received at school.  So, each day after school, she would tell the kids to pick up all their books, and walk with them through a nearby pasture, without stopping, for the assigned period of time.  When teachers would tell Mrs. Belly the kids should do, say, three hours of home work, and walking around in the pasture that long would have left them out there past sundown, she would add rocks to double the weight of their load of books, and have them walk around with that load for one and one-half hours, getting in the same amount of 'work'.  D.B. was 15, and almost finished with school, before his mother discovered that 'home work' meant opening the books.

"D.B. became famous among his siblings for rarely, if ever, completing the 'home work' marches.  He would wander off in search of food, to the family orchard, the smokehouse, the garden, etc.  He had an uncanny ability to avoid being caught by his mother, however, and talk his way out of punishment when he was.  This created resentment among the siblings, who would sometimes administer punishment themselves.  D.B. was never deterred from making his food searches, however.  Eventually, the siblings tired of trying to discipline him, and began to accept the fact that D.B. was just different, and that nothing could be done to change that difference.  Each of them would play roles in his food-acquisition schemes through the years.  That process later resulted in the establishment of the Belly Brothers Biscuits, Bait, Barbecue and Beer shops.  D.B.'s initial intention was to build an extra kitchen where he could go for food at any time without having to wait behind family members who might also be looking for food.  He bulit his first B6 in 1966, when he was 16.  His food preparation skills were so good, he soon had a lot of customers.  He tried closing the first B6 to the public when he found that there was no food left for himself at the end of the day.  The customers continued to come, however, so he found out how to manage his inventory better.  He has always operated on a cash basis only at the Dime Box B6.  As a result, he has undoubtedly underpaid his taxes by hundreds of thousands of dollars, probably millions.  His net worth is probably at least one hundred million dollars, and that's a conservative guess.  D.B. himself has no idea; I'm certain of that. 

"In school, D.B. was highly successful at finding ways to leave the classroom, in search of food.  When he was six years old, he learned that he could get out of class to clean the blackboard erasers.  He then looked for and found a store in College Station that sold erasers of the same type.  He used the proceeds from the sale of a family calf to buy 100 of the erasers, and used them to get out of class even longer, much longer.  He did this for three years before a teacher discovered his scheme.  And then, he received an award from the school for bringing in the new erasers.  The award was a private office in which to clean the erasers, so he wouldn't have to do it outside.  That office was soon stocked with food.  He began to sell food out of the office, to both students and teachers.  It was appreciated by all.  He received another award for his food service.  Between cleaning erasers and running the food concession, D.B. was spending over half of each school day out of class.  Frequently, his teachers would ask him to leave the class and open up his food store, because they wanted snacks.  He was sometimes spending even more time out of class than he actually wanted, finding the additional work tiring.  He did not complain, however, which was appreciated by all.  His siblings helped him carry food to school, and he paid them.  They were never offered escapes from class, however.  D.B.'s mother was baffled when she saw her children begin to carry large amounts of food to school each day.  D.B. explained that the school had requested it, which was true, and she accepted his explanation.     

"D.B. was not a good student.  No one seemed to mind, however.  His teachers found it easier to accept his work habits than to try explaining concepts to him, because his responses could be very confusing.  His mother did not understand that he wasn't doing well academically, since she understood very little about schools in the first place. 

"Well, I could go on and on.  The D.B. pattern from childhood has been to pursue food and largely ignore most everything else, and he has been very successful with both pursuits.  You'll have to judge how smart this makes him."   

St. Taw said, "I met Donnie Bob this week.  Seconds after he saw me for the first time in his life, he had me doing his job.  He disappeared for two hours.  I was getting a little bent out of shape, but then he showed up with a feast just for me in the back of a pick-up truck.  Then, suddenly, I was back to work, doing his job again.  I didn't know what was going on at any point, but somehow I felt like he was doing me a favor all the way.  Very puzzling.  I can't peg him one way or another.  You have any guesses about his numbers?"

Ledbetter said, "None.  He's beyond me.  You?"

St. Taw said, "Nah.  Nothing.  Is it accurate to say that he's an atypical Belly?"

Ledbetter replied, "Personally, I think D.B.'s atypical on any scale."

Chapter 46

Somewhere in what is now Mississippi there was an Indian tribe. This tribe was non-nomadic. It grew crops and built small villages and lived under a benign dictatorship. It did not practice war and other tribes were reluctant to attack it because its medicine men had invented a drug that enabled the user to leave his or her body and travel as a phantom across vast areas of the earth. This drug had no name or to put it more correctly, its name was held in fear, and the superstitious Indians believed if they uttered the name, they would die on the spot.

One day a stranger entered the village. He wore a coonskin cap and carried a musket. He spoke the tribe's language. They asked why he had come to their village.

"I understand that you have strong medicine. A medicine that allows a man to leave his body and go anywhere he wants."

"You speak correctly. Do you wish to try it?"

"Yes, but what it will cost me?"

"For starters, the musket that you carry, and the ammunition for it. Any knives that you may be carrying also."

"I will be helpless."

"You are helpless now."

The stranger realized that this was true. He was one lonely man facing dozens. He handed over the musket, the ammo, and his two knives. "What now?"

"Now you may sit down by the fire and we will give you the medicine"

The medicine or drug was in the form of mush. It resembled oatmeal and was in a brown earthen bowl. A wooden spoon was sticking striaight up in the mush.

"Eat this. Three spoonfuls should do it."

The stranger did as he was told. "How long before it begins to work?"

There was no reply. From the stranger's point of view there was no one there to reply. For he was in the clouds high above the earth.

After a while, he realized that he could travel anywhere he wanted. He was not limited to this planet or this solar system. And he thought, "why not, I will travel through the whole universe. I will see everything there is to see. Even if takes forever!"

Fifty years later the man's body was still sitting by the fire. Only now the fire was gone, the village was gone, and the body had turned to dust.
 

Chapter 47

IS (Inchoate Sam) was talking to Sloppy on the phone. "Uncle Sloppy, I've decided to become a historian."

"Your wife must be rich." Sloppy replied, changing aprons as he spoke.

"Lucy did real good when she left Russia. She brought out the secret diaries of Stalin and they're selling well on E-Bay."

"What you going to write about first?" Sloppy was back at the buffet line dishing out hash and rice. Messy Mabel was in the kitchen making sweet tea.

"I thought I'd start with Washington Atlantis Sam or WAS as everybody called him."

"So IS is going to write about WAS. About time I guess."

"So what can you tell me about WAS?"

"IS, I ain't got time to talk about WAS. You know I'm a running the only 24 hour BBQ restaurant in Texalina."

"Who can I talk to then?"

"Why not read WAS's book?"

"He wrote a book? What's it called and where I can find it?"

"It's called 'Lower Alcolu in 1642' and since there was only ever one copy of it, finding it might be a little difficult."

"I'd say!"

"Look at the bright side. It'll give you and Lucy something to do."
 

Intermission

You must read this before advancing to the next chapter, see?  Don't even think about skippin' it.

Good novels are seldom self-referential. To keep this novel from inching into unknown territory, we (the editors) sometimes find it necessary to be self-referential. Therefore, let us pause and consider the title of this novel, "The Haunted Outhouse". Has anyone stop to think, just what is a haunted outhouse? What are its parameters? Does it have historical antecedents? Did Marx write about it? Did Dickens? Many things have purported to be "haunted". Has any of them ever been an outhouse?

To get to the bottom of this mystery, we will now resort to the time honored Q & A session. We will be questioner. Who will be answerer? None other than the greatest expert in history on outhouses, Archie Abercrombie!

Q: When you first saw the title of this novel, what came to mind?

A:  Haunted outhouses.

Q: In your lifetime, did you ever experience a haunted outhouse? If so, please describe it to us.

A: Every time I used an inhouse, I had a haunted feeling. 

Q: How do you define haunted?

A: Unexplained unpleasantness.  As opposed to explained unpleasantness.   

Q: How do you feel about rolling outhouses?

A: When the hole rolls, you don't have an outhouse, but a doughnut.  People should not crap in doughnuts.

Q: Did you think that Major League Baseball would actually strike this summer?

A: How can you tell it didn't?  Really tell?  One of life's mysteries. 

Q: What accomplishment are you the most proud of?

A: Pride cometh before a fall.  I never fell through an outhouse hole, even when drinking.  I'm proud of that.

Q: What is the future of the outhouse?

A:  The outhouse is timeless.  It's toilet paper that ages.

Q: What do outhouses symbolize?
A:  The crap stops here, as it should.

Chapter 48

IS hung up the phone and pondered Uncle Sloppy's advice.

Lucy saw him and said, "What's that look on your face mean? Reminds me of a winter day in Moscow sloshing through the mud and the snow looking for a VP potatoe."

"We got a tough job ahead of us, Lucy. We've got to find a book written over 350 years ago and there's only one copy."

"Any clue where it might be?"

"No, but don't you use a book finder service on the Internet when you're looking for bad rare Russian novels? What's the name of that guy runs it?"

"You mean Adam R. Evans or ARE for short?"

"Yea, that's it. Get him on the phone. I'm in a hurry."

Lucy was known for her quick fingers and a few seconds later, ARE was on the other line.

"Is this ARE? It is? Hey, ARE, this is IS from Chattanooga. I'm Lucy's husband. Have you heard of a book called 'Lower Alcolu in 1642'? You have. That's great! Can you find it for me? You can't but you think you might what part of the world it's in? Did you say Mathis? Where the hell is that? Oh, I see. You is? I mean you are? That's great ARE. And, hey, thanks."

IS put down the phone and shouted to Lucy who replied, "Was that ARE, IS? How was he? You mean he knew where the book by WAS was? You bet, I'll start packing right away."
 

IS felt a profound sense of relief. He had found his calling. Lucy was glad because, frankly, she was getting tired of IS moping around the house. Becoming the official Texalina historian was a step up for him and she was proud of him. The fact that the job paid absolutely nothing was irrelevant because Lucy knew enough CIA secrets to stay well off for the rest of her life. They wouldn't dare kill her since she had made provisions for that. IS thought she was cleaning up on the Internet selling Josef Stalin's secret diaries but who in Nikita Kruschnev's name want to read some crap written by a mad dictator.

Now they were on they were to Mathis. They said her old buddy, DB was there, as well as some old fart professor named St. Taw, who was an expert on the ideology of bowel movements. Well, Lucy didn't mind, she could kick his butt if she had too.
 

+++

It just so happened that St. Taw was relaxing at the Mathis B6 working on his sixth Old Mil (and by the way, wasn't Brouhau looking better all the time?) when a dusty Winnebago pulled up to the gas pump. A lithe blonde packing what looked like a 44 Magnum jumped out and started filling up the tank. Around the back of the motor home there appeared a skinny, squirrely looking guy headed for the entrance of the B6. St. Taw stayed quiet as the thin man entered the store and walked over to the soft drink container and lifted up two strawberry sodas. He heard the man say to Brouhau,

"I'm looking for a man named St. Taw."

Before Brouhau could answer, St. Taw said, "Turn around and you'll be looking at him."

"Well, hello, Professor, I really enjoyed your article in the latest 'Flow' magazine about how turnip greens are the key to a non-constipated life."

"Well, son, you've got to live if you're going to write it. What's your name?"

"Inchoate...Inchoate Sam but everybody calls me IS."

St. Taws eyebrows perked, "You're not one of the Sams from North Galbutt, are you?"

"Shore am. Sloppy Sam is my uncle."

"This is quite a coincidence. I've been reading about the Sams, especially the one they called WAS. Was WAS your great ancestor, IS?"

"I think so, but that's what I'm here to find out. I've decided to become the official Texalina historian."

St. Taw was taken aback, "That's a big job, son. Think you can handle it."

"He can handle it, Mister. But you might not be able to handle me."

St. Taw turned and saw the lithe blonde at the door. She was standing there somewhat defiantly.

"I presume you connected to IS here."

"That's right and I've got a name. You can call me Lucy."

"Nice to meet you, Lucy. Why don't you and IS sit down and we'll drink strawberry sodas and talk about WAS.

Brouhau brought some pretzels to the table. IS said, "We understand, Professor, you found a book called 'Lower Alcolu in 1642'. Do you have it in your possesion?"

"No, they wouldn't let me remove from Decave. I can go there and read it anytime I want to though. And call me Alex." St. Taw smiled at Lucy.

IS got excited. "We should go there right now!"

St. Taw put a hand on IS's shoulder, "Calm down, son. It's closed for the night but it'll open back up in the morning at eight. I can meet you there then."

Just then the door opened and a young man walked in. Without a doubt he was a Belly, easily topping three hundred pounds. St. Taw said to him, "Come sit with us young man. I'm the one who ask you to come here."

The Belly walked over to the table and sat down. St. Taw said, "You must be Will Belly."

"That's right, but everybody calls me WIll B so as not to get me mixed up with Will Jetson, who everybody calls Will J."

"Oh, yes, Will B. I'm Alex St. Taw and this is IS and his lovely companion, Lucy."

"Howdy, IS and Lucy. Nice to meet you. Brou, bring me some fud! I'm starvin'! Now, Mr. St. Taw, what I can do for you. Your message just said something about getting paid to dig dirt."

"Mmm, yes, I want you to do some digging for me first thing in the morning. No need to go into the details, but I'll pay by the shovelful. In the meantime, Will B, you might as well stay around and talk with me, IS and Lucy about WAS.

"Oh, yes!"

Chapter 49

After La-Pau had toured the Decave and the remaining artifacts had been removed, Jaguar and a local construction crew began building a concrete cover to the cave entrance.  The Decave would be inaccessible for the foreseeable future.  D.B. headed to Dime Box, and Jaguar and Buffy went to the motel. 

In the motel room, Buffy said, "Dadgum, Jag, we're in the deal!  I'm really excited about this, and I'm sure glad you came up with the idea.  Gosh, Jag, going back to the very place we first met, standing on the very same dirt, was very powerful.  I'd have never thought of that.  Thank you for doing it for me, and for us."

Jaguar said, "Thank you for comin' down here, darlin'.  I know I must of sounded kinda crazy on the phone.  Just had me a feelin'; couldn't quite get words on it."

Buffy said, "Dadgum, Jag, your mama doesn't know!  I better call her before D.B. gets back, so she'll get the word from us.  OK?"

Jaguar said, "Dadgum right.  Good thinkin'.  She sure wouldn't have to hear it first from uncle D.!"

Buffy called Bonnie's number.  "Bonnie, it's Buffy.  I've got big news.  I drank me some Old Milwaukee today!  Jag too!"

Bonnie said, "Dadgum, gal!  There's just no end to the surprises, is there?!  Well, congratulations, darlin'.  I'm sure happy for you."

Buffy handed the phone to Jaguar.  "We done the deal, Mama.  I got dadgum lucky, didn't I?"

Bonnie said, "You ain't got no idea yet, son.  Buffy done OK too I reckon.  Don't you make your mama wrong 'bout that, boy.  You all are gonna do some fine breedin'.  Get to it!"

After Jaguar had turned off the phone, Buffy said, "Darlin', I've got a favor to ask.  Do you mind if I take the OM bottle with me, to the line shack?"

Jaguar said, "That's your bottle.  What I mean is, the gal gets to tote it, and it's her job to keep up with it, and keep it safe.  So, there ain't no askin'.  It's yours already."

Buffy said, "Dadgum, I just love those Belly Rules.  Even the ones I don't know about!  This is a real good life, Jag.  I'm very grateful."

Jaguar said, "I am too, Buf, I am too.  Now, darlin', we've some talkin' to do, maybe bigger talkin' than we've done yet.  Way I'm lookin' at it, we got a stretch of hard dirt ahead.  It can be dug, but it ain't gonna dig with just a fourteen inch spade, see; might take a dadgum backhoe.

"Here's what I'm gettin' at, least the start of it.  You didn't get to meet Dr. Franklin, the lady from the UT archeology dept., but I got to know her some while we were clearing out the Decave.  She wants you in there, Buf, at UT.  You'll be in the Master's program, and that's just the start.  She wants you to take charge of the Decave project, not just the archiving, but setting up a larger research project on The Order Of the Ten, including other digs, maybe, documentation, books, research in related areas, and who knows what else.  She has big plans for you.

"Now darlin', I know you're gonna take it!  And I want you to.  That's where you belong, Buffy.  I know that just as much as I know I belong in dirt.  Here's where I'm goin' on this.  You can't dig but one hole at a time if you're gonna dig any of 'em right, darlin'.  That means that when you start workin' the Decave project, you ain't gonna be learnin' Belly Ways, at least not the way you've been thinkin'. 

"Buf, I say dig one at a time, and finish one at a time.  The Belly Place is gonna be there for a good long while.  What I'm thinkin', darlin', is you let it come to you, see?  Don't think you've got to rush it."

Buffy began to cry.  As Jaguar embraced her, she said, "Oh, Jag, you know me dadgum well, don't you?  You're right.  UT's been in the back of my mind, even as I've been coming up with these big ideas about me and Belly Ways.  It seems like I can't outrun my past enough to get on with my future.  It keeps jumping up and grabbing me back to where I've been.  Heck, I've been thinking UT probably wouldn't accept me,  and I was sort of hoping they wouldn't.  But here it is, a chance to work on the most important dig most archeologists would see in a lifetime, and yes, I'd love to be a part of it.  But here I go, changing directions again.  And, dadgum it, you knew it.  You know me better than I do sometimes, Jag."

Jaguar replied, "Buf, I don't know this archeology bidness much at all, but I think I may have a handle on something you don't, funny as that sounds.  I can tell me a sorry dirter just by drinkin' some beers with him.  I don't know how, I just can.  It's happened time and again.  Drink quarter beer with a feller all night, then go work ditches with him the next day, and sure 'nuff, seemed like a sorry dirter, and there's them sorry dadgum ditches.  Makes me plumb want to puke ever dadgum time.  

"Well, Buf, you ain't sorry.  I could tell that right off.  Some a them other archeologin' folks, well, they sorry.  Doc Jacuzzi's one.  Even doc Franklin, the UT lady.  She's nice, and real good at money, but Buf, she don't know crap 'bout archeology.  Not like I know dirt, not even bein' a top dirter, and not like you know archeology, and care about gettin' it right.

"Buf, the Decave stuff is worth doin' right, and I'm tellin' you it ain't gonna be done right unless you do it.  I ain't blowin' smoke with you; I'm sayin' that if you don't dig this dadgum hole, it ain't gonna be dug.  That would be dadgum sorry!  You see what I'm meanin'?"

Buffy said, "Gosh, Jag, I don't know!  Heck, I think you may be seeing a more accomplished archeologist in me than.."

Jaguar interrupted, saying, "I think so too, Buffy.  And I'm tellin' you, I know I'm right.  Right down to black dirt here, darlin' - you can do the Decave stuff right, better than you know, and if you don't, it's gonna be treated like crap.  That would be wrong, Buf, as wrong as a dirter takin' a bunch of money to leave sorry work all over hell.  That's how I'm seein' it, darlin'.  I ain't gonna preach on it no more.  I just had to get it out this once though, see."

Buffy hugged Jaguar and said, "I hear you, darlin'.  You haven't been wrong yet you what you've felt about me and us.  I'm listening, Jag, don't think I'm not.  I'm just not hearing everything you are, not yet. 

"While I'm listening, though, Jag, here I go again, not doing Belly Ways the way I've been wanting to.  I want that, Jag!  Dadgum it, don't let me lose it."

Jaguar said, "All those holes are waitin', darlin', but you got to dig 'em one at a time, see?  Dig 'em good, and there they'll be.  Do even one of 'em half-ass, and there won't be nothin' at all, just a big ol' mess.  We ain't gonna do it like that, Buf, are we?"

Buffy said, "I reckon not, Jag.  You keep me straight on the holes the best you can, and I reckon I'll get me some nice ones dug one of these days."            

Chapter 50

The next morning, Buffy drove back to Dime Box.  Jaguar stayed in Mathis to complete the clean-up of the dig site.  He would be driving to Dime Box the next day.

Just minutes after entering the line shack, Buffy's cell phone beeped. It was Dr. Maria Franklin of the UT archeology dept.  "Hi, Buffy.  I'm so glad to finally talk with you.  I've heard a lot about you from Jag and a lot of other places.  I'm processing your application right now."

Buffy said, "Well, great.  This is quicker than I'd expected, since I missed the cut-off for the Spring semester."

Franklin said, "Oh, don't worry about that.  All those registration rules can be bent.  As a matter of fact, I'm looking at you for this semester.  Does that sound OK?"

Buffy said, "Gosh, I guess.  I hadn't planned on anything this early, but please tell me more."

Franklin said, "Buffy, here's the deal.  You're in the right place at the right time to do some special things.  I also think you're the right person.  The Decave is a major, major find.  You know that.  There's a lot of other stuff going on, though, that you probably don't know about.  You could be right in the middle of all this, what's probably going to be the biggest archeology program in the country for years.

"I'll tell you why I'm especially interested in you for such a prominent position.  Before I do that, though, I'll tell you a little about me.  Buffy, I'm a half-ass archeologist.  What I'm good at is PR and fundraising.  That makes me the most valuable member of this staff, as a matter of fact, but I have no illusions about my scholarly expertise.  I don't know if you've figured this out or not, but a good 75% of academic archeology is show business.  I'm completely serious about that.  We get most of our funding from people who don't know much about what we're doing, but if they think they're buying into a good show, they'll fork it over.  So, I don't sell myself short, I just understand my role, and I love it.

"So, item one for you, Buffy, is that you make for a good show.  Don't go feminutso on me here, but you look good, and that helps.  What helps more, a lot more, is that you're already a celebrity for that run-in with A&M, and what helps even more is that you took on the Aggies about the Decave.  Hell, your name's all over it.  The project carries your brand.  Finally, Buffy, what make all of this work is that you have an outstanding reputation as an archeological scholar, with a specialties in some of the very areas that are going to be at the center of the program I'm putting together.  You're deal solid perfect for this, in other words, on both the show biz and professional fronts. 

"Now, I know well that I need you more than you need this position.  Jag told me that you're getting half the take from the Decave sale.  I was the buyer, so I know what kind of money we're talking about.  Congrats, by the way!  Anyway, there are my cards.  What do you think?"

Buffy said, "Jag told me yesterday that you were interested, and he also told me I'd say yes.  He hasn't been wrong yet, so I guess there's no point in dragging this out.  Yes."

Franklin said, "Great!  Jag is a shrewd guy isn't he?  I didn't know what to make of him at first, but after a few days, I got the feeling that he had me pegged cold.  In other words, seeing me for what exactly what I am - a faker as an academic who does good marketing hustle.  Buffy, I've got to tell you, I could do business with guys like that forever.  I think I'd hold onto that one!"

Buffy said, "Oh, don't worry, I will!  You're right about Jag.  He can be an Aggie frat boy one minute, and see right through you the next.  Walking contradiction, but he walks darn well.  I'm lucky to have him.

"Anyway, here's what's on my mind.  I think I'm OK as a researcher and writer, but I've never been in charge of anything huge.  I'm nervous about that.  As for the show biz stuff, I'm OK with the idea, but I don't have a clue about how to put on a show.  And then, I have another life I'm trying to do justice to.  Jag and I are getting married, and I want to have kids before long.  So, you tell me, Dr. Franklin.  If I give this two years and I'm maybe half as good an archeologist as you think I am, am I the asset you're looking for?"

Franklin said, "Two yeas is dead solid perfect.  Perfect.  That will take the program to exactly where I want it to be.  Perfect.  Furthermore, Buffy, there's a lot about your role that you don't understand yet.  You're used to doing research digging, in books and dirt.  That's not what this job is all about.  You can do all of that you want, if you want, but only after you've developed the academic doctrine for this program.  The theory we're going to pitch as fact, in other words, in presenting our finds to the world.  You will create archeological truths!  This won't necessarily take tons of time as much as solid, salable analysis that will stand up to peer review well enough that we won't lose show biz points.  That's the job, Buffy.  Get your act together, and you can probably do it in a few hours a month in the office, and a trip a week to conferences or media spots.  Are you getting me?"

Buffy said, "I think I am, actually.  Looks like I'll have a chance to do what I've seen dummy profs. at A&M do for years, but maybe do it a lot better.  Heck, I can beat that level of performance without trying very hard.  Jag won't let me settle for anything close to that, though!  If you don't know it, he sets a pretty high standard.  I think we can do a deal, Dr. Franklin."

Franklin said, "Darn, I'm glad to hear that.  Call me Maria if you would, and come see me tomorrow?"

Buffy said, "I'll do it, Maria."

+++ 

Buffy walked over to Bonnie's house then, and knocked on the door.  "Howdy, gal!  Come in here!  Congatulations, dadgum it!  Shoot, you got a wullet and a OM bottle, all in days after you was wonderin' if ol' Jaguar was gonna have you.  Ain't life somethin'?"

Buffy said, "Oh, it sure is, Bonnie!  I'm dadgum sure glad I can talk it all over with you, I can tell you that!  Listen, I can still do Mama Talkin', can't I?"

Bonnie said, "Hell yes!  Listen, just forget 'bout askin' anymore.  Just talk, dadgum it, from now on, see?"

Buffy said, "Great!  I was hoping you'd say that!  You have no idea how much this help and means, Bonnie.  Now, here's for some talkin' you probably won't like.  If you want to give me a whuppin', I won't whine.  Here's the deal.  You know my Buffy Big Ideas?  Well, I've still got 'em, but my doin' isn't going to proceed the way I'd planned.  I'm getting a job at UT, a lot sooner than I though I would if I got it at all.  So, my Belly Ways training has been set back.  I'm not giving it up, I'm really not, but shoot, I'm off schedule."

Bonnie said, "That's alright, Buffy, at least I think it is.  How long is the UT job going to last?"

Buffy said, "Two years.  That will get me my Master's, which I'd hoped to do anyway.  Looks like I'll also have a pretty big project while I'm knocking it out, which I hadn't figured on."

Bonnie said, "Here's how I look at this.  You mark two years a Yankee Ways trainin' into your plan to teach Belly Ways and Yankee Ways.  That was the deal, wadn't it?  Well, dadgum it, Buffy, if you're gonna teach Belly children all them ways, and teach 'em good, you gotta know all the way, not just Belly Ways.  Otherwise, hell, I'd a bene teachin' all that myself.

"Now, here's what I ain't gonna like, though, bein' set on seein' you follow through on those big ideas.  I ain't gonna want to see you flat out droppin' all you Belly Way learnin', see?  What I mean is, are you gonna stay in the line shack?  Gonna be choppin' wood reglar?  You can do that, Buffy, and work that UT job at the same time, see?

Buffy said, "Oh yes!  Absolutely!  Hell yes, Bonnie, I'll be doing all of that.  What I won't be doing is spending all my days learning the other things I want to master.  But, of course, Bonnie, I plan to live here the rest of my life.  Think you'll get tired of me?"

Bonnie said, "Goodness no, gal!  I may piss you off some, and I guess you'll piss me off too, but you're family.  Understand that.  You belong."

Buffy began to cry.  Bonnie softly said, "That's new for you ain't it, gal?  Well, you just get used to it.  You got family now."

Buffy said, "Yes, it is new.  You knew it, didn't you?  I've never really had a family in my life.  I sure want to fit in with this one."

Bonnie said, "Won't be any problem, Buffy.  We're dadgum glad to have you.  You're Belly, though, no matter what.  You get used to knowin' that, see?"

 Chapter 51

The next day, Buffy visited the UT office of Dr. Franklin.  "Good morning, Buffy.  Let's get right down to business.  Take a look at this outline.  It tells you what my program will encompass, at least for starters.  The Decave Collection, of course.  That will be our showcase, the ticket to fundraising.  That's just the start, though.  Everything associated with The Order Of the Ten, even remotely, is also in play for the program.  You probably won't have heard of some of the other fields.  You'll learn about them later.  La-Pau, of course, the line of HHDs, the LA-AL system and The Kingdom Of Texalina.  Those are the major divisions of General Decadence.  You figure out how everything fits together; I'm guessing all the way.  We want all possible artifacts, all possible information, all possible documentation, and the best possible academic bullshit to tie all this stuff together.  You're in charge of bullshit.  Make it as scholarly and accurate as you want, I don't care.  I just want damn good bullshit that will sell and will fake out all major scholars out there who could screw up fundraising.  You'll have all the money, all the staff and all the facilities you want to do all this.  Just deliver world-class bullshit.  Got it?"

Buffy laughed, saying "Oh, I think I can do pretty good bullshit if I really try.  At least, it sold at A&M."

Franklin said, "Perfect.  All my bigget donars are Aggies at heart.  You just come up with stuff that's good, and also sounds good to Aggies and academics.  That will be dead solid perfect.

"So, the ball's yours, Buffy.  Pick an office, do some paperwork for me, and go to work when you're ready.  Done deal."