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BACK TO FRASER'S FRACTURED FICTION HENRY VI Part 2, act iv: scene ii (part the eighth)by A. Fraser
© Copyright 2004 A. Fraser. All rights reserved.
"Ring, ring."
"Oakwoods, Gideon Redoak speaking."
"Hey, Boss."
"Mitch. Where are you?"
"Down at the entrance to the Cliff Road. We landed about an hour or
so ago."
"Why are you calling from there?"
"Well, we'd really like to come home, it's been a hell of a trip, but
there's a small forest sort of blocking the way."
"Oh. I'll let Michael know."
"Sorry about that," the Archdruid laughed. "How did things go in
France?"
"Apart from us now being international refugees on the run from
maddened French officials?" Mitch asked. He looked out the
window of his Jeep SUV, suitably impressed at how quickly and
efficiently the trees had been removed. No permit needed. Just
magic.
"I don't suppose you'd care to explain that?" Michael wondered.
"It's my fault," Alex said gloomily. "Everything is my fault."
"He's been like that the whole trip," Mitch sighed. "He wanted me to
throw him out of the plane when we were halfway across the
Atlantic."
Michael looked at the handsome, depressed vampire. "And pollute
the ocean?" he asked. "Come, now, Alex, there's nothing so bad as
all that. We found the deed."
Alex's head snapped up. "What?"
"We found the deed. And Fox Fletcher did a title search for us in
town. You own Valley Mansion, I own Fairlawn, Gideon owns
Oakwoods, everybody has clear title to their land. Francis' shack
probably isn't up to code, but so far nobody's worried too much
about that. Webster Fletcher sold BOO a forgery. The sheriff wants
to know if you want to press charges."
Alex sank back against the headrest on his seat. "Where was it?" he
asked in a strangled sort of voice.
"The drawer of your end table in the den," remarked Ray Griffin,
who'd come along to help out with the tree clearing. "I hope you
don't mind that we had a good look through your house. By the way,
you might want to dust a bit more often."
Alex closed his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered.
"You could have just asked your fairy godmother, you know," Ray
grinned at him.
Alex shuddered. He hadn't seen Noni since she'd shunted him into a
bad Valentino movie; he'd prefer not to repeat the experience. He'd
very carefully avoided uttering the words "I wish" throughout this
current crisis.
"So, now what?" he asked.
"I'd suggest you go home and unwind a bit," Michael said. "Then
you have to meet with Gainsborough and BOO."
"I don't think I'm going to press any charges," Alex said. "Wasn't
the point of all this to stay out of court?"
"Yes, but you have to say that formally."
"Home sounds good to me," said Mitch. "Jean's idea of nourishing
food for a werewolf was some bread and cheese; I'm starved."
"Call Gainsborough when you're rested a bit," Michael instructed
Alex.
"I can never get over what bloody weird names the Fletchers have,"
stated Gaylord Algernon Pritchard.
He dropped Alex off at Valley Mansion, to what reception from the
acid-tongued Janine was best left to the imagination, and then drove
home to Oakwoods and a much warmer welcome.
A large number of people were gathered in the sheriff's office. Alex,
Hermione, Michael and Gideon represented the Cliff Road Crowd.
All four BOO agents were present, looking extremely unhappy.
Gainsborough and his deputies were present; as was a scraggly-
looking Webster Fletcher. Fox sat in a corner, trying to look
unobtrusive.
"Now, folks," said Gainsborough, perching on his desk so as to get a
good look at everyone, "we're goin' to try and keep this friendly-like.
I don't want no name-callin' or accusations. And I don't want any of
this in the paper." He shot Fox a quelling look.
"Damn," said the reporter, quietly.
"Seems to me," the sheriff continued, "that what we mostly got here
is a big misunderstandin'."
"A misunderstanding?" snorted Agent Orlova.
"Yes, ma'am," Gainsborough replied. "A misunderstandin'. Cause I
sure as hell would hate to think that you folks would deliberately
drive these good people off their land."
Agent Orlova shut up. Like a lot of people, she had assumed that
Gainsborough's folksy manner and "aw shucks" speech meant he was
stupid. Like a lot of people, she was discovering a mind like a
Damascus blade underneath the drawl and dropped 'g's.
"Now, then," the sheriff continued, "we can settle all this right here 'n
now, or we can settle this in court. What's it to be?"
There was silence. Nobody wanted to go to court.
"Right," Gains nodded. "You folks wanted to settle here in
Fletcherville. That's only nat'ral, since this is the prettiest place in
New England. So you came and asked around who had land to sell,
and you found Webster here was willin' to sell you a deed. Since you
didn't want to waste time and money on lawyers and such, you
figured you could just take the land. Am I right so far?"
Agent Higgins nodded. "Yes, that's right," he said, doing the finger
steeple thing again.
"And you folks," he looked at the Cliff Roaders, "you figured they'd
done the legal work 'n had the right to throw you off the land, so you
all panicked and did your best to keep the property. Is that right?"
"Yes," Alex agreed.
"I ain't," Gainsborough said, "goin' to ask how you managed to plant
and grow seven oak trees on the road. It wasn't illegal, so I don't
need to know. But don't do it again."
"It won't happen again," Michael reassured him.
Gains nodded. "Good." He looked at the BOO agents. "Next time,
you folks don't take any short cuts. You do the legal work. Got it?"
"Yes, sheriff," Agent Chen replied meekly.
Gainsborough looked at the huddle that was Webster Fletcher.
"Anyone want to press charges against this here old cuss?" he asked.
The four BOO agents looked at each other. Higgins shook his head.
"No, sheriff," he replied. "We should have done the legal work; it's
our own stupidity."
"Should have known it couldn't be a real deed," added Agent Chen.
"Right." The sheriff nodded. "Webster, if I ever hear tell of you
sellin' forged documents again, I won't bother to arrest you. I'll just
feed you to the sharks. Got it?"
"Mumble," replied Webster.
Sheriff Fletcher then turned to Alex. "D'you want to press any
charges against these folks?" he asked.
"No, I don't think so," Alex replied. "They thought they really had
the deed to my property." He put a slight emphasis on the 'my'.
"Good. Nice and friendly-like, just like I said. Nobody presses any
charges. No hurt feelin's. Everybody donatin', say, a hundred
dollars to the town."
Nobody objected. The donations would be made. Even Hermione
didn't protest.
The BOO agents got up as if to leave. Gainsborough put up a hand.
"By the way," he said. "Nothin' personal, but you folks have 24
hours to get out of town."
"Or what?" Agent Orlova couldn't help asking.
"Or I change my mind about lettin' Fox here write this all up for the
papers. Don't imagine you want to see this in print?"
"24 hours. Right."
Hermione walked the agents to the door. "Nice try," she smiled at
them.
"You haven't heard the last of us," said Agent Higgins.
"Tell the undead to watch their backs," added Agent Chen. "Next
time, it won't be writs."
"I'm more than just a lawyer, you know," she replied sweetly. "Next
time, it won't be oak trees."
They glared at her, but she suddenly had two vampires and an
Archdruid behind her.
"We'll be back," said Agent Chen.
"We'll be waiting," said Alex.
They watched the cars drive out of sight.
"Thank you, sheriff," Alex turned to Gainsborough. "Could we
persuade you to come to Valley Mansion for a victory celebration?"
"Nope," Gainsborough shook his head. "Wouldn't be proper. I'm
sure Fox wouldn't say no, though."
The reporter grinned. "For some of that lovely single-malt Scotch," he
said, "I'd go anywhere."
"Come along, then," Alex said.
Gainsborough looked at his other cousin. "Get the hells out of my
sight, Webster."
The scruffy Fletcher slouched off, avoiding the Cliff Roaders.
"Well?" Gainsborough looked up at the four standing in his office.
"You still here? Go celebrate. Have a drink for me."
"Thank you again," they told him.
He nodded. "Watch out for them city folks," he said. "I think they
aim to put you back in coffins and keep you there."
There was a pause. Then Gideon spoke for the first time since
entering the office.
"Sheriff?" he ventured. "You said 'back in' coffins."
"Slip of the tongue, I reckon," said Gainsborough smoothly. "Go on,
git."
They gitted.
At the victory celebration, it was Galen who got the last word.
"We won't have to live in a trailer court? YES!"
_________________
The End.
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