The Return of the Charlie Monsters Page 6

  When the dog throwed up on the way to town,

  Everybody inside rolled the winders down.

  If he’d done it in winter, they might have been doomed,

  From frostbite if not from the poisonous fumes.

  When they seen his lunch on the back seat floor,

  The passengers tried to jump out the doors.

  But the doors wouldn’t open and they couldn’t get out.

  It’s a wonder they didn’t just faint and pass out.

  Sing yodel-ee-lay-hoo and yodel-ee-yip.

  Old Hankie sure knows how to mess up a trip.

  The doors wouldn’t open, they couldn’t get out.

  It’s a wonder they didn’t just faint and pass out.

  Most usually when puppy dogs barf in a car,

  It don’t smell any worse than a lousy cigar.

  But Hankie ate eggs that were rotten, and stunk.

  They smelled ‘bout as nice as a decomposed skunk.

  What made it so tragic, not funny at all,

  Is the driver was trying to answer the call

  To teach little kids at the Methodist Church,

  But the dog throwing up put her job in the lurch.

  Sing yodel-ee-lay-hoo and yodel-ee-yip.

  Old Hankie sure knows how to mess up a trip.

  She was ‘spose to teach kids at the Methodist Church,

  But the dog throwing up put her job in the lurch.

  The family was stranded, the car was a wreck.

  Sally May muttered something ‘bout wringing his neck.

  But then a brave cowboy relieved her distress.

  Like Hoppy and Roy, he cleaned up the mess.

  This song has a lesson for volunteer moms

  Who are teaching the kids about Proverbs and Psalms.

  Your day will go better and seem less bizarre,

  If you don’t haul sick dogs in the back of your car.

  Sing yodel-ee-lay-hoo and yodel-ee-yip.

  Old Hankie sure knows how to mess up a trip.

  Your day will go better and seem less bizarre,

  If you don’t haul sick dogs in the back of your car.

  Don’t haul a sick dog in the back of your car.

  So there you are. I told you it was a silly little nothing of a song. Furthermore, it was a pack of lies. He wasn’t even with us in the car, so he couldn’t have known what went on. And did you notice the part about the “brave cowboy” showing up and saving the day? What a joke. Bravery had nothing to do with it. He cleaned up the mess because the boss MADE HIM, and he whined and complained every step of the way.

  Now you know what I have to put up with on this ranch.

  It was so sad, the way things had turned out, friend against friend, neighbor against neighbor. And you know what really broke my heart? Everyone on the ranch was mad at ME, but I hadn’t done anything wrong. Honest. I had fallen victim to a whole series of…

  Wait. I almost said that I had fallen victim to a whole series of bad-luck events, but let’s take a closer look at that. Let’s examine the whole concept of “luck.” Pay close attention, because you’re fixing to learn that I had been pulled into a deep, dark conspiracy that involved…well, you’ll see.

  Chapter Ten: The Charlie Conspiracy

  Okay, here we go.

  Your ordinary mutts explain their lives in terms of good luck and bad luck. Those of us in the Security Business have moved far beyond such shallow thinking. To put it into simple terms, we don’t believe in luck at all. So-called “good luck” comes from our wise decisions and intelligent behavior. So-called “bad luck” is actually…this will probably surprise you, I mean, it’s a pretty sweeping concept…“bad luck” is actually the work of our enemies.

  Yes, our enemies, and I’m talking about the ones we rarely see, the ones who are working day and night to underwear our undermine. I’m talking about the Charlies. They come in many different forms and disguises: spies, secret agents, night monsters, and alien creatures from another planet. They’ve even been known to dress up in chicken suits. They are clever beyond our wildest dreams and they never sleep.

  Obviously, this was the work of the Charlies and they had struck me a deadly blow. Somehow, they had penetrated our systems and had made evil use of the cat, the turkeys, a hateful fly, Drover, and even Little Alfred.

  Are you beginning to see a pattern here? It was the Charlies who had planted the poisoned eggs in the barn. Yes, they planted the eggs, knowing that I have a terrible weakness for slurps…for eggs, even as we speak.

  Which is a little weird. After a guy has been poisoned, you’d think…never mind.

  So there you are, a little insight into the shadowy world we face in the Security Business. Now you know why we seldom sleep and why we sometimes bark all night. The Charlies are out there in the darkness. Never doubt it.

  Slim Chance didn’t understand any of this. He lived a simple life as a bachelor cowboy, never dreaming what might be going on behind his back, and there was no way I could explain it.

  We made our trip to the ranch in frosty silence, he driving the car and me in the back seat, breathing the lingering vapors of a vicious plot. Riding in the back was okay with me. I had nothing to say to him, nor did I want to hear any more of his tiresome music.

  Oh, he did find an opportunity to make one last smart remark. When he pulled up behind the house and shut off the car, he looked back at me and said, “Like I’ve always said, pooch, you sure have a way with the women.”

  Very funny.

  He opened the back door and let me out. Since he’d already messed up his hamster muscle, he wasn’t able to deliver a boot to my tail section, although I’m sure that’s what he wanted to do. What a grouch.

  No wonder the American cowboy is a vanishing breed. Nobody can stand to be around them, not even their dogs.

  I hung around to make sure Slim did a proper job of cleaning up the mess in Sally May’s car. I have to admit that he did okay. I mean, he actually went to the house and fetched a bucket of hot water, and he actually added soap to the water. And, forgive me if I faint from surprise, he actually scrubbed the carpet with a sponge.

  I was shocked. I mean, I’d always supposed the guy had an allergy to soap and water, but here he was…what a low-down dirty trick! You know what he did?

  I’m not going to tell you.

  All right, I’ll tell if you promise not to laugh, because it was NOT funny.

  Okay, I was sitting there, supervising, maybe twenty feet west of the car. When he’d finished scrubbing, he opened all the doors to let the car air out, picked up his bucket of water, and started walking north.

  I saw nothing unusual or alarming about this skinnerio. It appeared that the man was going to dispose of the dirty water, just as you would expect, and pitch it out into the weeds. His eyes were directed straight ahead, to the north, and he wasn’t looking at me, didn’t even know I was there—I thought.

  The next thing I knew…SPLAT! He nailed me with a bucket of dirty water, and we’re talking about drenched. I jumped two feet straight up in the air, I mean, I thought the Charlies had crept out of the bushes and…I don’t know, drilled me with a death ray or something.

  It was an ambush, plain and simple, and Old Trusting Hank never saw it coming, never suspected a thing.

  I heard the roar of his laughter and saw him doubled over with his hands on his knees, and he yelled, “There, by grabs, that makes us even!”

  That’s what I have to put up with around here. Just when you think those guys are doing serious work and have stopped goofing off, they come at you with some twisted trick and…phooey.

  By the way, I got soap in my left eye and it stang. Is that the correct word? I’m pretty particular about using correct language, and do you know why? The children.

 
; Ring, rang, rung.

  Ting, tang, tongue.

  Sting, stang, stung.

  Okay, that checks out. I got soap in my left eye and it stang.

  Anyway, Slim enjoyed his little moment of triumph, and laughed all the way up to the machine shed, where he continued a job he’d been working on for several days: repairing sickle blades on the hay mower. See, our hay crop had been a disaster, because of the drought, so Loper had decided that they would mow and bale the grass and weeds that grew in the ditches along the county road. As he said, “In a bad drought, you bale up anything that can’t run and hide.”

  I didn’t go along with Slim or help him replace the sickle blades. To be honest, I had lost all interest in his projects on the ranch. I know that sounds harsh, because…well, think about it. When the dogs get discouraged and lose interest, it says bad things about the future of the ranch.

  No kidding. Hey, you hear stories all the time about ranches that grind to a halt and go up for sale. You know what’s behind those sad stories? The dogs have lost interest and stopped caring, and most of the time you can trace it back to some thoughtless, careless event, such as a cowboy pitching mop water on the Head of Ranch Security.

  They just don’t realize…oh well. Slim was on his own, and if the ranch fell apart, he would have to take full responsibility for it. A dog can only do so much.

  I was in the midst of these thoughts when…you know, sometimes you get the feeling that you’re being watched. Have you ever experienced such a feeling? It came over me all at once. I knew I was being watched, and naturally my first thought was that the Charlies had returned.

  I whirled around and did a Full 360 Scan with visual instruments. It revealed no Charlies, just a…can you guess? A cat. I caught sight of his head in the iris patch, two ears perked straight up in the air and a pair of cunning yellow eyes that were staring at me.

  I was being spied upon by Pete the Barncat. That’s always annoying, but on this particular occasion, I found myself yielding to a wicked grin. Heh heh. See, Kitty’s missile defense shield had gone to Bible School, and now it was just me and him, all alone, on a ranch far from town.

  Pay-backs. It was time for some serious pay-backs.

  I turned and made a “careless stroll” down to the yard gate. There, I stopped. “Hey Pete, how’s it going, pal?”

  His annoying kitty voice reached my ears. “Well, well, the hero has returned! You left in the car with Sally May and returned in the car with Slim. I’m sure there’s a story behind that.”

  “I’m sure there is, but you’ll never hear it.”

  “And the bucket of water?”

  “Oh, you saw that too.”

  “I try to stay alert, Hankie.”

  “How nice. Well, since you’re so alert, perhaps you noticed that Sally May isn’t here, Kitty, and you probably know what’s coming next.”

  “Hmm, let me think. Does it have something to do with a tree?”

  “No, much worse.”

  “So…you’re feeling bitter about the Turkey Debacle?”

  “Cute name. Yes, I’m feeling very bitter about all your slimy tricks, but before we go plunging into violence and bloodshed, I need to get something straight.”

  “Oh goodie. Should I come out and join you?”

  “Whatever you think. It won’t change anything, but come on.”

  He crept out of the iris patch and rubbed his way down the fence, until he was sitting only two feet in front of me, with the fence between us. “There. Now we can talk.”

  “One thing, Pete, I need one piece of information to wrap up this case.” I tossed glances over both shoulders and leaned toward him. “That deal with the turkeys…were you acting alone or was it something bigger? I must know. Were you working for the Charlies?”

  He gave me a blank stare. “You’ll have to help me with that, Hankie. Who are the Charlies?”

  “The Charlie Monsters, my mortal enemies. They’ve been trying to take over this ranch for years. They’re masters of disguise. They work mostly at night, but sometimes they show up in the daytime, and we never know what form they might take.”

  “Hmmm, the Charlies. Let me think.”

  “Hurry up.”

  His mouth dropped open and he gasped. “Wait! I remember now. Yes! The mailman!”

  That word sent a tingle of backbone down my electricity. Holy smokes, it appeared that I was about to break this case wide open…and it involved a suspect I’d been watching for years!

  Chapter Eleven: The Plot Plottens

  I began pacing, as I often do when all the pieces of the puzzle begin falling into place. “You were recruited by the mailman? Ha! I knew it! I’ve had that guy under cerveza for years. I knew he was up to no good.”

  “But Hankie, I had no idea…”

  “Of course you didn’t. The Charlies never leave tracks or clues. They’re clever beyond our wildest dreams. Okay, Pete, we’re on to something big. Just a few more questions. Were the turkeys in on it too?”

  “Oh yes. He trained them. You didn’t notice?”

  “I missed it, Pete, completely missed it. I had no idea this was going on right under my nose.” I paced over to him. “Last question: the rotten eggs.”

  He looked up at the sky. “That’s not exactly a question, Hankie, so you’ll need to help me on that one too.”

  “Right, sorry. Did the guy in the mailman disguise plant three rotten eggs in the machine shed, knowing that I might very well eat them?”

  “Oh, those rotten eggs! Yes, yes. Three of them, correct?”

  “Exactly. We’re on the same page. So it was the mailman! Oh, what a sneak!”

  “I wondered what he was doing in there, but I never dreamed…Hankie, you didn’t eat them, did you?”

  “Only one, and let me tell you, it turned me wrong-side out.”

  “Bad?”

  “Real bad, right on the floor of Sally May’s car.”

  The cat uttered an odd squeak and turned away. “I am so hee hee!”

  “You’re what?”

  “I’m saddened, Hankie. I’m sure it made things worse with Sally May-hee.”

  “You can’t even imagine. She was livid…and who could blame her? She was on her way to teach Bible School when the tragedy occurred.”

  He turned to me with…well, you’d have to call it a look of admiration. “It was such a huge conspiracy, Hankie, so dark and twisted, but you’ve managed to figure it out all by yourself!”

  I walked over to him. “That’s what we’re trained to do, Pete, but I have to admit that your tip about the mailman was helpful.”

  “Thank you, Hankie.”

  “It wasn’t huge, but it helped.” There was a moment of silence. “On the other hand, Kitty, you were involved in a plot that got me in deep trouble with Sally May, twice, and we can’t ignore it.”

  “Hmmm. What do you suggest?”

  I paced away from him and pondered this big decision. “Tell you what. It’s too hot for us to be running around and scuffling in the yard. Pick out a tree, climb it, I’ll bark a few times, and we’ll call it good. What do you think?”

  A smile bloomed on his mouth. “I think that’s brilliant, a perfect solution. Off I go.”

  He scampered away, climbed that big hackberry tree in the southwest corner of the yard, and sat down on the first big limb. “Ready when you are.”

  “Ten-four.” I leaped over the fence, took up a position at the base of the tree, and delivered three stern barks. “There, let that be a lesson to you. Are you sorry that you allowed yourself to be duped by the Charlies?”

  “I am, Hankie, and I must say, this is a touching moment.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, this is the first time we’ve ever worked together on a case. It’s almost as though we’ve become…friends.
”

  I glanced over my shoulders, just to be sure that we weren’t being watched. “Let’s don’t get carried away. I still have a reputation to worry about.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I won’t tell a soul.” He stared down at me for a long time, swinging his tail back and forth. He seemed to be in a thoughtful mood. “Hankie, I just had the weirdest idea. I’m going to tell you something that will help you with Sally May.”

  For a moment, I was speechless, then burst out laughing. “Ha ha. That will never work, Kitty. Even if you came up with a good idea—which I sincerely doubt—I wouldn’t believe it. I’d think it was another of your sneaky tricks.”

  “I see what you mean. Our years of fussing and fighting have done a lot of damage.”

  “Exactly right, and don’t forget all your lying and cheating.”

  He nodded. “You’re right, it was a bad idea. Well, run along.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I’m going to run along. This has been fun, but I have to get back to the real world.” I whirled around and marched away. I had gone, oh, eight or nine steps…okay, five steps…when I did an about-face and returned to the tree. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to hear this crazy idea of yours.”

  He was licking his left front paw and didn’t even look at me. “No.”

  “What did you say?”

  “No.”

  I was kind of surprised by what a strong effect that word had on me. I mean, my ears jumped up, my eyes popped open, and my jaw dropped several inches. “Hey Pete, there’s something you need to know about me. I hate being told ‘no’ by a cat.”

  “No.”

  The hair on the back of my neck began to rise. “Tell me your idea.”

  “No.”

  “One last time, you little creep. Tell me your idea, and be quick about it!”

  “No. No, no, and no again.”

  All at once, the world turned red and a growl began to thunder deep inside my throatalary region. “Okay, pal, that did it. You have pushed me over the edge.” I began loosening up the muscles in my enormous shoulders. “And here’s what’s fixing to happen. Tell me your idea or I will chew down the tree! This is not a drill.”