MONDAY (II)

"Where's Leah? I've got a story idea for her," Lee said, hanging up his hat.
"It's Monday," Paul said. "She's trying to make all the deadlines she blew off over the weekend."
"Oh, good. So she won't mind one more," Lee said, pulling out his cell phone.
"Dammit, Lee, no cell phones here unless it's an emergency, you know that. It's going to be in the bylaws whenever Leah or somebody gets around to actually writing them down. Meanwhile, I really freakin' hate cell phones, and it's, oh yes, by the way, surprise surprise, my bar!" Gary said.
"Oh, it is an emergency, it is," Lee said, dialing Leah's number. "That crackpot from Loose Cannon who's running for governor is over at the Donut Shop telling everyone how much better it would be for everyone if all of the public land in the state were distributed under the Homestead Act."
"Oh gawd, that's right up her alley," Rex said, slapping his thigh. "She'll fall all over herself to get there."
"That's what I'm counting on. But dammit, Gary, why aren't there any windows in this dungeon? We could watch her run by and whatnot," Lee said.
"So no drunks can get thrown through them. Do you know how much plate glass costs?"
"Oh, I hadn't thought of that," Lee said. "Hey Leah," he continued into his cell phone. "Get your butt over to the Donut Ranch right away. That Homestead Act nutjob is holding court!... No, I'm not kidding. He's railing away, doing the whole Jesse Jackson act... No, Rex didn't put me up to this... It's Lee. Who did you think it was?... All right. Be sure to stop by on your way back and tell us what he said... I know it's Monday, but it's two weeks from the election!... Right... Right... So that's my price for the tip, you come and tell us what he said... OK. Bye."
"Is she going?" Paul asked.
"Oh yeah, she's on her way."
"Whew. I trained her right, I guess."
"Trained who right?" Rex called out from the front door.
"Leah," Paul said.
"I thought I was training her," Rex said, hanging up his coat.
"I had her first, when she was a little kindergartner in my office," Paul said.
"You sick bastard," Rex said in mock shock.
"Not like that," Paul said, blushing.
"That's your department," Gary said.
"Hah?"
"Don't play dumb," Gary told him. "We all know you're sleeping with her."
"I've never slept with that girl in my life," Rex said carefully.
"Just because she probably doesn't let you sleep," Gary continued, nastily.
"Now wait a minute–" Rex began as the first sirens sounded.
"What the hell is that?" Paul said, getting out of his chair. "Too early for the noon whistle, Kevin isn't doing any work on his daughter's house, Walt is out of town, that rules out half the fire danger..." Paul wandered out the front door to see what he could see.
Walt's cell phone rang as the rest of the group filed out to join Paul.

"Guys," Walt said sadly, "I know what it is. It's an ambulance call."
"For who?" Lee said.
"It's Deirdre's dad. Her mom just called my phone in case Dee was here. She couldn't get through on the Cantina's line."
"Shit! That goddam phone company," Gary said.
"Is he all right?" Rex asked, stricken; he was very fond of Kim McGonagle, who had taught his sons to drive when Rex's patience ran out.
"We don't know," Walt said. "Any idea where Dee is?"
"She was going to go over some stuff with Leah over at the newspaper office this morning, I think. Something about that fall arts festival," Rex said, starting off down the street.
"Naw, wait, Rex!" Lee called out. "Leah was complaining about waiting for her; she's not there yet."
Rex came back.
"Then where's Deirdre.? She's back from Steamboat, right?" Rex said, coming back.
"I think so," Tom said. "Why not check in with the department store? She was doing a show with them this weekend, wasn't she?"
"Oh yeah," Walt said. "What's the phone number there?"
"I dunno," Gary said. "Call the chamber."
Lights flashing and sirens screaming, the ambulance rushed by.
After a few minutes, the men filed back into the Cantina.
"I hope he's all right," Rex said, hints of tears in his eyes. "Silly old bastard."
"Thank god I didn't go with the local company for my cell," Lee said. "I've actually got a signal. Is Deirdre there?" Lee said into his cell phone. "Oh good," he told his friends, "They're getting her... Dee, honey? It's Lee Meyer. Sit down a minute, would you?... Good. Honey, I don't know how to tell you this, so I'm just going to tell you: your dad just a heart attack... Yeah. They're probably taking him to the hospital in Loose Cannon... Right Walt?"
"Yeah, I think so," Walt said.
"Yes, Loose Cannon. Just across the state line in Jackson County... Yes... Are you all right?... Shit," Lee said to the group. "She just hung up."
"You've done what you can," Tom said.
"I sure hope so," Lee said.
Just then Leah burst in.
"Holy crap, you guys," she began.
"We know," Lee said, sadly.
"You know? How can you? Danny just called it in a few minutes ago!" Leah said.
"What would that idiot have to do with Kim McGonagle's heart attack?" Gary demanded angrily.
"What?" Leah asked, uncomprehending. "Kim McGonagle's dead, too?"
Her friends stared at her, also uncomprehending. At last, Caleb asked "What do you mean, 'too'?"
"I mean Danny just went into the production room at the paper and found Kim Huffnagle stone freaking dead, slumped over a light table. He called 911 a few minutes ago. That's what the sirens are for."
"Oh Jesus," Lee said, burying his face in his hands.
Rex began to laugh.
Leah gave him a severe look. "What the hell's so funny, Rex? The guy's dead."
"Oh hon, that's not what's funny. It's just...a little bit ironic... You see, Lee just got off the phone with Deirdre. He just told her that her dad was the one with the heart attack," Rex said.
"Poor Dee," Lee said, his voice muffled by his hands.
"Her dad?"
"Kim McGonagle," Gary said, starting to catch up.
"Oh Jesus," Caleb said. "Did the ambulance go to the wrong place?"
"No," Leah said after a moment. "I saw it stopping in front of the newspaper office. They're getting 'our' Kim. Um... why do you think it was McGonagle exactly?"
"I got a call from Kim's wife a few minutes ago. She was looking for Deirdre," Walt said.
"Oh wow," Leah said. "What a huge fuckup. Must be the dispatcher..."
"Unless something happened to both of them," Gary pointed out.
"Hadn't even thought of that," Leah said. "Shit! I'd better go see what I can find out. No matter what, I've got a paper to get out this week." And she dashed out of the bar.
"What are the odds of both Kims dying on the same day?" Walt mused.
"Well, we don't know that Kim McGonagle is dead, just that he might have had a heart attack," Paul pointed out. "Kim Huffnagle is the only one we know is dead. And even that's just second hand."
"Do you really think it was just the dispatcher goofing it up?" Tom asked. "She's a bright, bright girl."
"Sure, but who knows Kim Huffnagle?" Gary pointed out. "Nobody. He's a total recluse. If Leah wasn't bitching about him all the time, we wouldn't even know who the hell he is. I'd probably assume it was McGonagle." He shrugged.
"You have a point," Rex said, pondering. "Few of us have even met him. He's more mysterious even than Tad was. Leah certainly never brought HIM to meet us."
"Well, as you say, Leah was brought up right," Tad observed.
"I've met him, and he's nothing much to weep over," Caleb said. "From what I've seen of him, nobody would miss him. Nobody. He just hides in that back office and smokes those cheap cigars."
"Christ, he's already messed me up, and I've only had the store for three weeks," Tad agreed. "My insert got stuffed in the Loose Cannon paper instead of Big Fittings's."
"That wouldn't have been Huffnagle's fault; they do the inserts over at Loose Cannon. His only mistake there was not noticing they'd screwed up when he was driving home," Paul explained. "Remember, the paper gets printed over there on Tuesday nights."
"Oh. Good thing I haven't bitched him out yet, then," Tad said.
"He'd have just said 'I'm sorry' and stared at you for a while," Caleb said.
"I hear he tried to get Leah fired when she got elected," Gary said darkly.
"Well, I don't know anything about that," Paul said.
"Well, look, Leah isn't God's gift to reporting, she's made mistakes, too," Rex said.
"Yeah, but at least when she makes mistakes she owns up to them and prints corrections when we catch 'em," Paul said. "Remember when Huffnagle ran that story ran about the cop running over the dog on First Street that implied it was a local cop when it was really some guy from Montana? Never saw a drop of ink retracting it, unless you count that letter to the editor the Montana guy wrote apologizing for the wreck."
"Oh yeah," Lee said. "That was Huffnagle? I thought it was that meathead he had working for him for a while there a few years ago."
"Doesn't matter," Paul said. "It was Huffnagle's retraction to print, and he didn't. That never would have happened when that paper was mine."
"Well, yeah," Gary said. "But you sold that thing 15 years ago."
"Big mistake," Paul acknowledged. "Big mistake. But I had my mother to take care of."
The group nodded, solemnly. Paul's mother had been someone they had all respected deeply.
"So how do we figure out who's actually dead?" Caleb asked bluntly after a moment.
"Well, I suppose we wait," Gary said.
"Or we call the police department," Walt said brightly.
"We could do that," Lee said, bringing out his cell phone again.
"Well, let's see if the house phone is working again yet," Gary said.
"Sheah, right," Rex said.
"You never know," Gary said, picking up his cordless. "I've got a dial tone. What's the police department's number?"
"8311, I think," Walt said.
"No, that's the newspaper's number," Rex said.
"8315," Tom offered.
"That sounds right," Caleb said.
"No, 8316," Paul said.
"That sounds right, too," Caleb said.
"Well, which is it?" Gary demanded.
"Try 8316," Paul said.
"OK... It's ringing... Hey, Kelly, this is Gary Kane calling... Oh, I'm glad you liked the tamales, I'll tell Michaela... No, I'm calling because, listen, who was it that the ambulance was for this morning... Huffnagle? Really? What happened?... Oh my, that is a surprise... No, no, just... Did something happen to Kim McGonagle too?... Oh, it's OK, you can tell me, I won't tell anyone–" here Gary rolled his eyes at his friends, who snickered quietly, "Oh really? Really? OK, that makes sense, sort of. Yeah, I'll be sure to keep it under my hat... We all make mistakes... Make sure you tell his wife, OK? Oh, and see if you can get hold of Deirdre, would you? Last I heard she was on her way to the hospital in Loose Cannon. She won't like it very much if she goes all that way and it's for nothing.... No, I don't know her cell phone number..." he looked quizzically at his companions, none of whom volunteered information. "Try the department store, maybe they know... No, I know, it's an easy mistake to make... Yes... So, what do they think happened to Huffnagle?... Really? Oh my... Thank you very much, Kelly, you're a good hand... Yes, I'll tell Michaela about her tamales, she'll be very happy... OK, thanks again... Good bye."
"Well?" Paul said eagerly.
"Kim McGonagle is fine, as far as she knows. She got them confused in the heat of the moment, or something – kind of a twinkie, that girl, you know – and it really is Huffnagle that they sent the ambulance for. He's stone dead in the newspaper office," Gary said.
"Of what?" Rex asked.
"They don't know yet. No blood or anything. We'll maybe know later. Maybe Leah knows something, I don't know..."
"Oh yeah, let's call Leah!" Lee said.
"No, let's not," Rex said. "Hey, Kanebrain, you mind running the numbers? I have a feeling this is going to be a wild and woolly day."
"Got some paper?"
"Always," Rex said, handing him a notepad.
"All right, listen up," Gary said somberly. "One to 1000..."

FRIDAY

Friday morning found the group assembled, with a surprise guest.
"Everyone," Leah said, bringing in a spectrally thin, impossibly tall, bald and mustachioed man, "This is Tad the grocer."
"Hi, everyone," Tad said with a goofy smile. "I hear you think I'm the devil."
"Tad!" Leah said, slapping his shoulder with the back of her hand as they sat down between Rex and Kevin.
"So she's been telling you about us, then?" Gary said.
"No, not at all. I heard it on the wind," Tad said, smirking again. "The wind that Leah broke."
Leah smacked him again before proceeding to introduce the table to him. "Tad, this is Rex Wainwright, he runs the hardware store," she said, placing a hand on Rex's shoulder, "And, of course, his mouth–"
"Only when you're around, schnookie," Rex grinned.
"Right. Only when I'm around. And on days that end in 'Y'" she said, not missing a beat. "To his left is Bill Greenwood, retired lawyer and probably your future golf buddy, unless you screw up and start rooting too loudly for CSU–"
"Fuck the Sheep!" the table said as one.
"See?" Leah said, eying Tad.
"I'm new here, so I'll just let that pass," he said, wisely.
"Next to Bill is my friend Matt McArthur, retired tire executive."
"Mucho gusto a conocerle," Matt said.
"Gumbo musto congo," Tad said after a moment, bowing in his chair to general laughter.
"He likes to show off his command of foreign languages," Leah acknowledged.
"Look who's talking!" Rex said.
"Hush! Next to Matt is Gary Kane, who owns this here joint," she continued.
"Pleased to meet you. Do you stock Xingu?
"LEAH!" Gary roared.
"Sorry," Leah said, nudging Tad in the ribs. "He was supposed to wait and spring that on you next week."
"Oh, sorry about that, Leah. Hey, while I'm thinking of it, is there somewhere around here where I can get a latte? It's for my grandkids."
"Tad!"
"Oops, sorry again, Leah. My mistake, that was for week three, wasn't it?"
"And four, but never mind. That's what I get for trying to help you out, isn't it? Anyway, next to Gary is Deirdre McGonagle – you'll like her, Tad, she's a bigger heretic than you are. She likes the Terrapins–"
"Go Maryland!" Deirdre spouted.
"Right back to the ocean!" Tad said in return, to general applause.
"Good one. Next to Deirdre is Tom Peters, who taught geometry to pretty much everyone here except for Deirdre and you and, Roger..."
"Man, I've gotta talk to you later, then," Tad said to Tom. "Nobody in this town can angle park! Now I know who to blame!"
"Way to endear yourself, Tad," Rex guffawed.
"You have to understand," Gary said, "That Tom studied with Euclid himself, and still thinks cars are pretty newfangled."
"I knew I should have flunked you, Kane," Tom said.
Gary just smiled.
"And there's Tom's son-in-law, Walt, who's our building contractor, landfill board member, and – aren't you on the cemetery board now, too, Walt?"
"No, that's my brother Kenny," Walt said.
"Ahh. Anyway, he'll probably be the one to fix all the things that Gordie's sons got wrong when they built your house–"
"Oh, which house did you get, Tad?" Rex asked.
"I bought that old stone place above the ditch. It's gorgeous," Tad said proudly.
"Pretty," Lee, sitting next to Walt, agreed, "Pretty moldy."
"He'll discover that in due time, Lee. Tad, this is Lee, who runs our airport and whose wife runs the branch library. Be nice to them; they bite. Next to Lee is Roger and Maker's Mark. Maker's Mark runs the lumber yard; Roger just works there."
"Please to meet you," Roger said. Mark, typically, just stared at Deirdre's newly arrived plate of toast.
"Oh yes, and the young lady serving the toast," Leah continued, "Is Suzie, who really runs this town because if she cuts off our coffee or our toast we all just sort of shrivel up and die."
Suzie laughed and held out a shy hand to Tad, who gallantly kissed it.
"Do you have rye bread back there?"
"Goddammit, Leah, I knew this guy was going to be trouble," Gary burst out, starting to rise from his chair until he noticed Tad's smirk. "Oh. This guy is good."
"Yes, yes he is."
"Hush, Leah! My wife might find out!" Tad said, blushing.
"Poaching on the married men again, Leah?" Rex asked, not quite mockingly.
"I never poach, Rex, dear. Now hush. Next to Lee is Caleb, a.k.a. 'Red' for obvious reasons," the flame-topped gas man smiled at this, "Who is the gas company's local service tech."
"I'd better be extra nice to him, then, or he'll start bleeding my gas meter in the night, right?"
"Tad, you are most indiscreet. And this man, to Caleb's right, is my own dear personal dad, Kevin Frank Ambrose," Leah continued.
"What do you do, Kevin?" Tad asked.
"Kick ass and take names," Kevin said.
"Ex cop," Rex said in a stage whisper.
"Oh, I see where Leah gets her charm, then," Tad said.
"You know what, I like this guy," Gary said.
"Yeah, he grows on you," Leah admitted. "Sort of like ringworm."
"I resemble that remark," Tad said.
"Hmm." she replied. "Anyway, between my dad and you is Paul Black, who thinks he still owns the newspaper – hush! – and is our all-around historian and general savant. Got a question about Gordie or anybody and he's your man."
"Not just Gordie," Paul began. "Know how that building you bought originally got built? It was originally a whorehouse, and then–"
"Wow, I've definitely got to sit down with you!" Tad said.
"Umm, yes..." Paul said, nonplused.
"Wait until you've got about six hours," Leah warned. "So anyway, there's a few guys who aren't here today, but this is pretty much the group."
"I'll strive to be worthy of it," Tad said solemnly.
They all raised their coffee cups to this.
"So but here's the big question," Gary began.
"Oh god, here it comes," Roger said. "Get out while you can, Tad."
"Hush! Who did you vote for in the last presidential election?"
"Donald Duck," Tad said.
"Hey – you said you voted for Frank Zappa," Leah glared at her new friend.
"I lied to get into your good graces, my dear," Tad said.
Rex, recovering from a spit take, could restrain himself no longer. "Where the HELL did you find this guy, Leah?"
"At the grocery store," she said innocently.
"She did say she was an OK sort of guy," Paul said.
"But he voted for Donald Fucking Duck," Gary began.
"Who should he have voted for, Mickey Mouse?" Paul asked.
"No, at least Donald is married to Daisy," Rex said. "Mickey and Minnie just live together in sin."
"How do you know that?" Leah asked.
"Oh... I forget where I read that," Rex said. "But the important thing is..."
"The important thing is he didn't vote for Al Gore," Gary said, silencing them all.
"Oh wait, actually... I did vote for Gore. I always get him and Donald mixed up," Tad said.
"What?"
"Just kidding," Tad said.
"You'd better be," Gary said darkly.
"Oh, let's not even get into that again," Lee barked. "At least once a week, Gary gets on a tear about what if we'd elected Al Gore and he about has an aneurysm."
"But it's so funny," Rex said.
"Oh, come on, it stopped being funny about seven months ago," Lee countered.
"To you, maybe," Leah said. "But Rex and I are much easier to entertain."
"Damn straight, honey," Rex said, grabbing her hand and raising it for emphasis.
"So, has Leah filled you in on the local political situation?" Paul asked.
"Sort of. She told me Gary was mayor first, then quit when he couldn't get people to throw out their junk–"
"Junked cars. Junked cars," Gary said.
"Yeah. And then Paul was mayor, but some harpies tore out his liver–"
"Ooh, good description!" Rex said, patting Leah on the back.
"Thank you," she replied.
"And now some guy named Sherwood Something is mayor and Leah's on the council with some guy named Will and two other guys who do whatever the town clerk–"
"Sillie Millie," Kevin intoned.
"Yeah, whatever she wants, and Leah is the only one fighting for righteousness and the American Way–"
"Tad! That's not what I said at all!"
"Poetic license," Tad said.
"Oh, I can already see why she likes you," Rex said.
"She adores me," Tad said. "So anyway, Leah is our selfless heroine and you are her Round Table of Chivalry and Stuff–"
"Awww, that's sweet," Walt said.
"Ain't it?" Leah said.
"And she takes it up the ass on a weekly basis because the voters all think you're bossing her around."
"Ha! More like she's bossing us around," Caleb said. "She makes us do the damnedest things..."
"Oh, did she get you signed up to judge the fishing derby, too?" Rex asked.
"Yes. Leah, god help us if Ellen ever quits the chamber, because they'd probably give you the job, and then we'd never be free," Caleb said.
"Leah... is this the same fishing derby I'm helping judge?" Tad asked.
The table roared.
"She got you too, huh?" Kevin asked. "Whenever her buddy Ellen can't find enough volunteers, she whines to my daughter and turns her loose on us. Tad, I like you, so let me tell you right now, if she ever asks you to be in the chamber of commerce haunted house, you're busy that week."
"Damn right, I'm still having nightmares about being trapped in that sweaty mask," Rex said.
"Actually, it wasn't the mask that was sweaty, it was you," Leah said.
"Enough! Listen up, everybody, one to 1000," Gary hollered.
"What's this?" Tad said.
"The numbers game!" Paul said. "It's a contest to see who can guess today's secret number!"
"Oh, goody! I'm great at guessing games!" Tad said.
"Oh, we're counting on that," Gary smirked.

THURSDAY

"So how'd the council meeting go, Mizzzzz Ambrose?" Rex drawled as Leah sat down.
"Don't ask unless you really want to know," Leah growled, helping herself to a cup. She softened a bit as Rex gallantly poured her some coffee – just half a cup, as she liked, because, as she and Rex always maintained, the Cantina's cups were too large and leaked too much heat to enjoy a full cup. By the time a cup was half gone, it was always room temperature.
"Oh, poor baby, do tell," he said.
"You already know, I think," Leah sulked.
"Millie!" Gary trumpeted.
"Yes, Millie. She finally got her goddam redecoration through," Leah stormed. "Her 'capital improvements' line item that I had understood to be for restriping the parking lot was actually for buying new conference tables and chairs and matching blinds and shit like that."
Gary, Paul, and Mack all laughed nastily.
"See, details matter," Gary gloated.
"I don't see where you have any room to laugh at me over this," Leah said. "It's your tax money that woman is wasting, too."
"I warned you about her. She was an evil bitch when I was mayor and she's even worse now that there's no one to sit on her," Gary said.
"Hey, I sit on her plenty," Leah said.
"Obviously not enough," Rex teased.
"Do I really have to do all of this myself?" Leah asked. "Jesus, I've only got so much I can do, you know?"
"That's the hot seat, baby," Rex said.
"It only gets better," Gary agreed.
"Great. Now which one of you assholes started my write-in campaign again?"
The tables were silent, until Paul, barely suppressing his laughter, pointed towards Rex and Kevin.
"Huh?" Leah said.
"Oh yeah," Gary said. "This was all Rex's idea."
"Not quite," Rex said. "I wasn't the one who wrote you in for the primary. I think I know who that was, but I can't take credit for that."
"But," Leah said, nodding as she recalled it all, "You campaigned for me behind my back after I was dumb enough to say I'd go ahead and be on the general election ballot."
"I had help," Rex said. "Who do you think bought that campaign ad?"
"I thought it was my boss," Leah said.
"Ho! That's a good one," Gary said. "Though now that you mention it, it makes a little sense..."
"Best way to get rid of her, maybe?" Paul said. "I tried that once when I owned the paper..."
"You weren't going to get rid of Gert that way," Gary said.
"Cheaper than a divorce, and I'd still get sex once every couple of years," Paul said.
"Wait, so who did buy the campaign ad? That idiot editor of mine won't ever let me see the books," Leah said.
Kevin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Honey..." he began.
"DAD?"
"It was... It was your mother's idea."
"DAD..."
"Well, not exactly your mother's idea, Rex sort of–"
"Don't go there, Ambrose, you coyote!" Rex cut in.
"Well, you were the one who said 'wouldn't it be funny if' we did..."
"But you're the one who went and did it!"
"DAD. I should have known. Do you know the kind of hell you put me through?"
"Oh, it was your turn. Being on the council isn't that bad. Hell, more'n half of us have been there," Kevin said.
"That's not what I mean. The county clerk gave me 20 kinds of hell accounting for that newspaper ad. You have to report all of that shit if you run, you know."
"You mean you actually filed?" Gary said, incredulous.
"Well, yes. I made this deal with Millie, you see..." Leah began.
"Oh my gawd, you fell for the old 'put your name in the hat' gambit, didn't you?" Gary said.
"Didn't realize it was an old gambit, but... yeah, I did. She just said I was the name that was drawn. And I'd promised if I was drawn I'd file," Leah said.
"Aha!" Gary said, trading significant glances with Paul and Mack.
"Jesus. She did that to me, too," Paul said.
"And me," Mack said.
"Worked on me, too," Gary admitted. "Only one name in the hat, hmm?"
"Christ," Leah said. "For exactly how many years has this woman been hand-picking council members?"
"Well..."
"Wait, why would she pick YOU, Leah?" Caleb said suddenly. "These guys are all creampuffs when a pretty girl smiles at them, but you? Is there... something we should know?"
"Um, nothing like that, Caleb, thanks for playing," Leah quipped.
"She must have picked on you because you're young," Rex said. "And she obviously didn't realize how much you take after your father."
"Who, 'Damn You Ambrose'?" Kevin said, laughing.
"You know, she said that to me the other day," Leah told her father.
"What for?" he asked.
"Because I voted with Sherwood and Dooley Hampton to approve that new contract with the water and sewer board," Leah said.
"What's the big deal with that?" Deirdre asked, walking in and pulling up a chair.
"The water and sewer contract? Everything!" Leah said. "The board wanted to invest its money locally instead of in Cheyenne, and that meant Millie wouldn't have complete control over it. Couldn't squirrel it away like she does."
"Oh," Deirdre said. "Is that bad?"
"Not in and of itself, no, but by state law that money is really theirs to control," Leah said. "So she had no business getting into a snit over it. Pass that goddam carafe, would you Tom? This one's empty."
"Ah, hence the 'Damn You Ambrose," Kevin nodded.
"I hear when you were on the council that got abbreviated to DYA," Walt quipped. "Didn't it even make it into the minutes once?"
"No, that made it into my column," Paul said. "Damn if I don't wish I still had the paper; sounds like it's time for DYA: The Next Generation!"
The group sipped coffee in silence for a moment, pondering this.
"Doesn't have much of a sense of humor, does she?" Tom observed quietly.
"Who, Leah?" Gary asked.
"No, Millie."
"Town clerks never do," Gary said.
"Yeah. I have a whole theory about them," Leah said. "Ever since I saw them at the local government convention last summer. Hoooo," she shuddered, "Nothing like spending an evening drinking tequila with 20 or 30 municipal clerks."
"What's your theory?" Kevin asked.
"Oh. I know now what happens to high school cheerleaders after they graduate, is all. They become municipal clerks."
The group absorbed this for a moment. Heads slowly began to nod, fingers to steeple under chins.
"She's got a point," Rex said.
"No shit," Paul said.
"I bet you anything Millie was a cheerleader," Leah continued.
"She's sure as hell got the legs for it," Gary opined.
Deirdre threw toast at her old friend. "Gary, you dope, this is Leah talking. 'Cheerleader' is not a compliment."
"What's it mean, then?" Gary asked.
"Cheerleaders are bitchy, backstabbing, manipulative... bitches," Deirdre concluded, munching her final piece of toast savagely.
"Yes!" Leah said.
"They do whatever it takes to get their shitty little way, right Leah?"
"That's what I'm talking about."
"Uh-HUH!" Deirdre and Leah slapped each other "five" across Rex's lap.
"My, my, my!" Rex said. "Do that again!"
"Why?" Deirdre demanded.
"Oh, no reason."
"Oh, Leah – he must have been looking down your blouse again."
"Rex!" Leah clutched at her neckline.
"Just a red-blooded man, I am," Rex said proudly. "Not like I've never seen it before. I've got two sons your age, after all!"
"Not my age!" Deirdre said.
"No, Leah's age."
"Not quite," Gary interjected. "Leah and my son graduated two years before those crazy ass twins of yours did."
"Thank you for setting the facts straight, Gary," Leah said, glaring a bit at Rex.
"Aw hell, when you're my age, two years is nothing," Rex said dismissively.
"Your age? You're the youngest one here, except for Leah," Deirdre snorted.
"Yeah, but when I'm not here the median age skyrockets," Leah pointed out.
"What, have you done the math?" Deirdre demanded.
"Oh shit, here we go. Deirdre, never ask Leah about math stuff. She's still got a chip on her shoulder from when Tom gave her a B in geometry in high school," Rex said.
"Rex! How dare you divulge my secrets that way?" Leah said.
"Wrote all about it on your weblog last week, didn't you, schnookie?" Rex said.
Leah sighed. "Some days I regret teaching you to use that computer," she grumbled.
"You're still sore because of that 'B'?" Tom asked her.
"Not exactly sore, but..."
"But you've compensated ever since by becoming a psycho math nerd, you said it on that website," Rex goaded her.
"You're just sore because I speak the truth," Leah said. "When I'm here, the median age of this group is 55. Without me it's almost 68."
"Is it really?" Bill Greenwood said, sitting down with a slight huff.
"Well, hate to break it to you, but yes," Leah said. "Hey, are you all right?"
"Oh yeah, yeah. Just rode my bike here again," Bill, who was 77, said. "Coming over that bridge is always a bitch."
"Oh, you're not kidding. Try it sometime with a hyperactive border collie on a leash!" Leah said. "Incline, adverse winds, and the constant danger of being pulled into traffic if a pickup load of dogs goes by!"
"Aww, did your wicked wittle black doggie pull you off your bike again?" Kevin mocked.
"She did. Hush!"
"Oh she most certainly did!" Rex enthused. "Right in front of my door! Me and Sherwood and Will Colson and, what, about six other people saw it?"
"At least," Leah groused. "Thanks so much."
"Hey, at least the bruises are healing nicely," Rex observed, holding up her hand and kissing it. "This wrist was completely purple about a week ago."
"Yeah, yeah, no thanks to you," Leah said.
"Next time, don't be so goddamn cheap," Rex said. "When you buy a new tire from me, spend the extra buck-oh-nine and get a new innertube, too. That's what gotcha."
"What, did her tire explode again?" Paul asked.
"So, what are we going to do about Millie," Leah said, trying to change the subject.
"Seems obvious to me," Gary said. "You need to run for mayor and fire her ass."
"A little late for that," Leah said. "The filing deadline is passed, and oh, by the way, HELL NO."
"Gotta love that keyboard," Rex grinned, pointing to Leah's chest. "Can't you just see it there?"
"Yeah, yeah, tap tap tap," Leah said. "Seriously, what are we going to do about this woman?"
"That's not for us to do, it's for you," Paul said.
"Why, because none of you guys had the balls to do it when you were on the council?"
"She wasn't thwarting our grand schemes when we were on there," Gary said.
"That's because you didn't have any," Leah said.
"Excuse me, what do you call my junk car ordinance?" Gary demanded.
"Junk," Paul and Rex said in unison.
"You tried to kill a whole lotta sacred cows," Paul added.
"And you didn't create a need for it," Leah said.
"Oh? And how would you do that?"
"Well, there's always my strategy..."
"Which is?"
"If you want to get rid of a stupid law," Leah pontificated, "First you enforce the hell out of it."
"Oh, so by that logic you think the leash law is a stupid law?" Paul teased.
"Only sort of," Leah said. "There's dogs at large and there's dogs off the leash, and those two aren't the same thing."
"Oh, good point."
"So anyway, if I may continue," Leah said, glaring slightly at Paul. "First you enforce the hell out of it, and then you ride the groundswell of public outrage to support your move to get rid of the stupid law. That's why we hired the police chief we did. Old King Log and Young King Stork."
"Hah?" Gary said.
"An old Roman story," Leah said. "Once upon a time, the frogs in the swamp grew dissatisfied because, of all the peoples in the land, they alone didn't have a king. So they demanded that the gods give them a king."
"Oh gawd, not this story again," Rex said, burying his face in his hands.
"Hush! It applies, Rex. Hush!"
"Oh yes, yes it does."
"So the gods said, ok, and gave them Old King Log."
"Is that your name for Sherwood?" Walt piped up.
"Wrong! Good guess, but wrong," Leah continued. "Old King Log–"
"Was really a log," Rex interrupted, to hasten the story. "As in a dead piece of wood that just sort of wallowed in the swamp."
"Who's telling this story, you or me?" Leah said sharply.
"..."
"Thank you. Yes, a real log. And the frogs were happy... for a little while. But then they started to notice a certain lack of leadership, of dynamism, of–"
"Movement?" Kevin asked.
"Movement, yes. And so they harassed the gods again. 'This king is a dud, we need an active leader, someone who really gets things done, someone we can respect, blah blah blah.' And so the gods sent down–"
"Young King Stork," Rex finished for her.
"Young King Stork," Leah nodded.
Silence reigned for a moment.
"Ummm?" Bill said. "What did stork do?"
"Oh, what storks usually do," Leah said.
"Storks," Rex interrupted, "Eat frogs."
"Ohhhhhh!"
"Yes. Which reminds me of another–"
"Leah!"
"Yes, Rex?"
"You are not going to tell the Russian joke again."
"But it's–"
"Why did we eat the frogs?" the whole table chimed in.
"Oh," Leah said. "Guess I've told it a time or two.
"Or three, or four... Your mother let you read too many books that were over your head when you were little," Kevin said. "Should have made you stick to the Cabela's catalogue."
"We'd all be happier if we stuck to the Cabela's catalogue," Walt said sagely.
"What about the Bible?" Tom prodded his son-in-law.
"That, too," Walt said.
"Oh Jesus, that's enough. Listen up," Gary said.
The game commenced, as always.
The winning number was 42, which only Leah thought funny.

WEDNESDAY

Caleb, Mack, Tom and Walt sat quietly, desultorily sipping coffee and eying the latest issue of the Big Fittings Republican-Reader, which featured Leah's profile of the new grocer on the front page.
"Well, he doesn't sound like too bad of a guy," Mack said.
"Who?" Caleb asked, staring down the hallway towards the front door.
"Whatshisname... Tad something. The guy who bought old Gordie's grocery store. The Greenie."
"Oh, him. You know, I think I met him at church Sunday," Walt said.
"You THINK you met him at church? How could you mistake a mug like that?" Caleb said, pointing at the photograph, which made the man look, as someone had observed earlier that morning, kind of like a cantelope with a mustache. They must have had trouble in the darkroom again.
"Well, I don't know, a lot happens on Sundays," Walt said.
"Where is everybody?" Mack asked.
"I think Gary's getting his ulcers checked again," Tom said. "Or some more skin cancers scraped off his nose, or something like that. Anyway, he's in Cheyenne."
"Anyone surprised that Gary has ulcers? That man isn't the least bit happy unless someone's plotting against him or trying to rip him off or something," Caleb said, shaking his head. "Was he always like that?"
"Oh wow, you should have seen him in high school. He ran for student body president all four years and every year there was some crazy story about how so and so had put something in Gary's coke so he'd screw up his campaign speech or how this teacher had been paid off to keep him late from class so he'd miss a chance to talk the pep squad into voting for him or something," Walt said.
"Once he said you were sneaking over to his house at night and letting gas out of his meter to jack up his gas bill," Tom said.
"But then we pointed out that your wife was off having a baby at the time and messing with Gary probably wasn't your highest priority," Walt said.
"He didn't believe you, though," Mack said.
"Well, he wouldn't be Gary if he did," Walt sighed.
"Did what?" Leah said sitting down and grabbing a coffee cup.
"Believed there was no way that Caleb was letting gas out of his meter at night last year," Walt said.
"Oh yeah. 'There's no such thing as an unexpected spike in gas prices, Leah.' I remember that lecture," she said.
"Heh, I was expecting him to break out the flow charts on that one," Walt agreed.
"Nice story on the new grocer, Leah," Tom said.
"But you didn't give his agenda," Mack grumbled.
"Agenda? Agenda? He's going to run the grocery store, Mack. You're starting to sound like Gary," Leah said worriedly.
"Well, they're cousins," Tom said, eying Mack.
"Well shit, we're all cousins if you go back far enough," Leah said, testing out the carafes one by one to find one that still had coffee in it. "Suzie, is there some more coffee ready?"
"Jussec, I'll fill those up again," Suzie said.
"So what's new with you, anyway, Miss Leah?" Tom asked.
"Oh, just the usual. We've got a council meeting tonight with nothing very interesting on the agenda. We're probably going to give Jim Morris a variance on his place... that's been in violation of the setback requirements since the zoning ordinance was passed. Pretty exciting stuff."
"Well, the house was where it is a long time before there was any zoning ordinance," Tom said.
"I know that, and you know that, and Walt knows that, and I know Mack knows that since he's the one that reported him," Leah winked at Mack, who had indeed called in the setback violation after losing to Jim at poker the night before his call. "But our 'attack zoning officer' didn't know that until he did all the research and he's just trying to make the law conform to reality."
"Gary says he's trying to make reality conform with the law, and I think he's right," Mack said.
"That's not for him to do," Leah said gently.
"Well, that's what he is doing, since you and Sherwood won't sit on him. I have half a mind to vote Sherwood out this time. He's been a mighty bad mayor," Mack said.
"Oh, who you gonna vote for, Colter? 'Let's go backwards faster, faster, fast as we can!'" Leah snorted.
"Well, there's always Will and Buford," Mack said defensively.
"Careful, there. You can only vote for one of them. Which is it going to be, a crazed drunken garbageman or a self-centered ass of an outfitter who keeps telling his customers that his competition once murdered a man for tying his fly wrong?" Leah pressed.
"I can always write in someone else," Mack said.
"Well, yes you can," Leah agreed.
"How about writing in me," Walt suggested merrily.
"You don't live in town or I would," Mack said.
"You know, this whole coffee group is just civics in action," Leah mused. "They should maybe just import the high school citizenship class down here every morning."
"What do you mean by that?" Mack said.
"Just that you guys all really know your stuff as far as how this town works and what's legal and how to get big stuff done and I don't think that goofball basketball coach who's teaching social studies up there has ever even been near a voting booth," Leah said.
"You've got a point," Walt said.
"Who's got a point?" Deirdre asked, sauntering to her customary chair, two down from Leah.
"Leah says we're 'civics in action,'" Walt said.
"Oh, you guys have been talking politics again. Big surprise," Deirdre said.
"Well, we started off talking about that new grocer, but then Mack got on my butt about how I didn't disclose his 'agenda' in my article about him and we sort of veered off course," Leah said.
"Agenda? He's the grocery man. His agenda is to sell groceries," Deirdre said.
"Thank you, Linda! That's what I said! He's just a regular guy who's been looking for a nice place to live and do business and he really likes what he's seen of Big Fittings," Leah said.
"Don't let Gary hear you say that. He already thinks it's some kind of fifth column Colorado plot," Deirdre said.
"Oh, where's Rex when he need him, so he can tell us whether our water supply is vulnerable to fluoridation! Protect our precious bodily fluids!" Leah cried out.
Deirdre stared at her for a moment before saying "You are way too young to remember that."
"Dr. Strangelove, darling. Dr. Strangelove," Leah said.
"You're way too young to remember that, too."
"Ah, but there's the movie channels on cable and there are VCRs and remember I went to a schwanky east coast college with a famous film school," Leah said.
Deirdre just smiled. "I thought you didn't have a TV."
"I don't. But I sometimes house sit for my parents, and –"
"And you use that as an excuse for TV orgies. I'm onto you, girlie."
"Yup!"
"Who's on who here," Rex demanded, swooping into the cantina and into his chair between the women.
"That's for us to know and you to wonder about," Leah said.
"Yeah," Deirdre said.
"Oh, I can wonder a lot," Rex said, grinning. "How you doing, Mickey Mack?"
"I'm all right, except Ambrose here just said she's going to give Jim that variance," Mack grumbled.
"You're still sore about that," Leah said in genuine shock. "Mack, the house should have been grandfathered and it was just overlooked. Really!"
"The law's the law," Mack said stubbornly.
"And a straight flush is a straight flush," Rex said. "Wyoming Alzheimer's at work, ladies and gentlemen!"
"What's Wyoming Alzheimer's? I'm still just a po' old Maryland girl," Deirdre said.
"We forget everything but the grudges," Leah said, smiling apologetically at Mack. "Really, Mack, what are we going to do, make him hire up a crew to move that old house 20 feet to the right? Thing would probably fall apart the second you hooked up a winch to it or whatever."
"Now that would be something to see, people trying to move a house with a winch," Rex laughed. "Stick to that there readin' and writin', schnookie. For all our sakes."
"No question about it," Leah said readily. "I never pretended to be anything else."
"So where's Gary this fine, frosty morning?" Rex asked.
"Off getting his ulcers checked, we think," Caleb said.
"Oh wow, has it really been a whole year since you let all that gas out of his line, Caleb?"
"Well, Macy's going on a year old next month, so yeah. Guess his check-up's early."
"Time flies, time flies," Rex said, sipping coffee. "Well, it's a good thing he's kept himself so calm so as not to make 'em worse, isn't it?"
"Heh, that's probably why his appointment's a month early," Walt said. "He's been about as calm as my head is hairy." Walt smoothed a hand across his bald dome.
The small group gathered for Wednesday morning coffee laughed heartily at that.
"Am I alone in really kind of worrying about him?" Leah asked.
"No, you're not," Rex said.
"I've been worrying about him since we were in grade school," Walt said.
"Me, too," Rex agreed.
"So he really has always been this paranoid?"
"Actually, he's mellowed out some," Rex said. "I remember right around the time we graduated and he was dead certain that Stan Hathaway was a Kruschev plant."
"Hathaway was a Republican," Leah said, surprised.
"Oh, he had some big theory proving his point. I don't remember the details. I think his wife – well, girlfriend, then – traced it back to his having a dream about Stan banging a cowboy boot on the table at a party or something. Gary... well, Gary used to drink a lot more than he does now."
"Oh yeah, 'Old age has done more to reform him than his mother, his wife or church ever could' and all that," Leah nodded.
"Amen to that," Tom said.
Rex just grinned. "My wife never once tried to reform me."
"Your wife," Walt declared, "Was too smart to try."
"That was my girl," Rex agreed. "She didn't try at all."
"Like Yoda," Leah snickered.
"Huh?" her companions said.
"You know, from Star Wars. 'Do, or do not. There is no try.'"
"Well... Yup. She laid down the law all right. And I just sidestepped it when it suited me," Rex said.
"And now..." Walt began.
"And now there's nothing to sidestep since she croaked on me," Rex said. "And that's that."
"Well, Leah bosses you around a lot," Mack pointed out.
"Well, Leah has some good advice for one so young," Rex, said, tousling her hair like he'd done when she was a child. "And she's none too cute when she's mad."
Leah simply raised an eyebrow at him.
"See? There she goes!" Rex laughed.
"So ANYWAY, we were TALKING about GARY," Leah harrumphed. "Did I tell you what he said on the street the other day about that Senator who died in that plane crash? He actually sounded like he believed it was the Majority Leader conspired to make that happen to preserve the balance in the Senate! I told him I was going to rush home and make him a tinfoil hat and he didn't even laugh at me, just kept right on roaring about it."
"He told me about that, too," Walt said. "I just chalked it up to his getting carried away again. Remember that time he went off for most of coffee about how Ranger Rick is actually a communist magazine for kids?"
"Well, it did make a lot of little tree huggers..." Rex said.
"But then you guys were able to straighten us out with some gopher hunts and bonfires and fishing trips," Leah said.
"And you didn't help matters, ma'am, when you asked him if he thought it was a coincidence that the Game and Fish wear red shirts," Rex scolded.
"True," Leah said. "It's just... so fun to egg him on sometimes."
"Just like it's fun to push your buttons, schnookie," Rex said.
"I know, I know, everybody gets a turn in the hot seat," Leah agreed.
"Hey, what time is it, somebody? I don't think that clock is right," Walt interrupted, squinting at the back wall.
"It's on bar time, Walt. About 15 minutes fast so they can chase the drunks out at night," Leah said.
"Of course you would know that," Walt grinned.
"Oh jeez, how many times have I fallen for that?" Leah whispered to Rex, who said nothing.
"It's really about ten of, Walt. Gotta be somewhere? Hot date?" Caleb asked.
"Oh, no, but this new kid I hired needs a lot of supervision. He's like Leah's dad: every time he picks up a tool he starts bleeding. My workman's comp insurance is going to skyrocket!"
"Well, since Gary isn't here, Rex –"
"Feh! Who says it always has to be me?"
"It's right there in invisible ink in our unwritten bylaws," Leah nudged.
"I thought you were going to write those down sometime," Rex nudged back.
"I am, sometime. I just haven't yet. So you have to take our word for it."
Rex nodded and took out a pen. "Gaze fondly into my eyes and pick today's number."
Leah gazed fondly into Rex's eyes, and smirked. "This never works, you know."
"That's not true, I got you once."
"Once," Leah agreed. "And how many times has it backfired on you?"
"More than once," Rex admitted.
"You should maybe quit trying to pick on Leah and you wouldn't have to buy coffee so often," Walt said.
"Say, is that why you always get nailed, Tom? Are you picking on Leah?" Caleb asked.
"Hush!" Rex said.
"You forgot to say 'Listen up,'" Caleb said.
"I don't have to say it, and I'm not gonna say it. One to 1000, Tom."
"511."
"511 is on the top, Walt."
"411."
"411 is on the bottom, Mack."
"400."
"400 is on the bottom, Caleb."
"405."
"405 is on the bottom, Schnookie."
"4...0...9," Leah grinned.
"That's a winner," Rex exulted. "You're playing with a pro now, Schnookie. Heh heh. Couldn't be sweeter if I'd planned it. Better write that down in your little Palm Pilot. And pick a letter."
"F."
Rex laughed and counted off the letters. "G, H, I, J, K, L, M... Oh shit."
"Heh hehe. Couldn't be sweeter if you'd planned it," Leah said.
"I don't care. I can afford it. The important thing is that I got you."