The Norphlet Mafia, Chapter 11, post 14

Chapter 11 The Execution Some things happen around Norphlet that are just as regular as clockwork, and Mrs. Graves coming out to feed her dogs is a good example. As I sat down, I checked my watch: 10 minutes to 8. It was almost like hearing a clock strike 8 when Mrs. Graves walked out of the house calling her dogs. “Here, Prince Charming, here, here, Snow White, Dopey,” and on and on, but nothing happened, and then she looked kind of puzzled as she walked over to the doghouse. “What... where are my little friends!” “Ohaaaaaaaaaaa!” Mrs. Graves let out about the loudest scream I have ever heard, and after that she began yelling, “Paul! Paul! Come here! Hurry! All my dogs are gone!” Well, yeah I did feel kinda bad upsetting a sweet, little old lady, but in about 10 seconds a man I guess was Paul, the private eye, came running out of the house buttoning up his shirt. “What's wrong, Auntie?” he yelled. ’Course Auntie was just hysterical, like there’d been multiple ax murders, but Paul figured it out pretty quickly—somebody had swiped all the dogs. He grabbed Mrs. Graves, and cooed “Auntie, calm down, calm down, I’m going to the Marshal’s office to report this. I promise you, I'll find your dogs… I’ll be right back.” I smiled. Gosh, old Paul just sprinted for the car, and in about two seconds he had the door open. And as he stood there, acting kind of startled, 10 Chihuahuas staggered out. Well Paul, called out to his auntie that he had found all the dogs, and then he looked in his car, kinda took a whiff, and, well, let’s just say, he was upset. “Auntie, I’ve got to take my car down to the station to get it cleaned up. I’ll be right back.” Auntie was busy feeding her little friends, who didn’t seem to be hungry, as Paul hopped in the car, rolled all the windows down, put the car in low, and roared off. Well, he only roared about 2 feet when he ripped up the gate and about 10 feet of fence. Wow, he let out some words that had auntie covering her ears, jumped out, and untied the chain from his front bumper, which had been yanked off the car. “Somebody’s gonna pay for this,” he screamed. Then he jumped back in the car, and this time he really floored it. Well, at least for the first 8 feet. Then there was a yank and the big doghouse came flying over the fence, hit the ground, and splintered all to heck. Yeah, I’ve seen and heard mad folks, but nothing like that, and Auntie, who was standing by the doghouse, went into a wail like nothing you have ever heard, and Paul just looked stunned. Well, he untied the chain, and this time he circled the car checking it out. No more chains—so this time he finally made it out of the front yard after managing to get his bumpers in the trunk of his car. I sneaked off heading toward home. That guy was as good as back in Little Rock, or so I thought. Anyway, the little trick had worked better than I even thought it would, and I couldn’t wait to tell John Clayton and Ears. & It was right after lunch when I found John Clayton, and it took us nearly an hour to locate Ears. He was slipping down the alley—Norphlet just has one alley-—and when we yelled at him, it was like he was shot. “What in God’s name are you doing hiding out in the alley?” I yelled. “Oh, Richard, we shouldn’t have done that. I just talked to Fred Smith down at the filling station, and he said the detective man was just so upset you wouldn’t believe it. He came in with both bumpers hanging out the trunk of his car, and there was dog poop on the seats and nearly everywhere else in his car, and he’d been sitting in it.” Yeah, me and John Clayton were snickering before the words were even out of Ears’ mouth, but Ears wasn’t laughing. “Y’all, he told Fred that if it was the last thing he ever did, he was gonna catch whoever did that.” “You mean he didn’t head back to Little Rock?” John Clayton asked. “No, he was heading to Marshal Wing’s office.” Well, yeah, that did kinda bother us, so I figured I had better go see Doc and find out what was going on. Doc and Marshal Wing are good friends and Doc will tell me everything the Marshal tells him. I walked in the newsstand and Doc was smiling, which he never does. He looked at me and said, “Richard, y’all shouldn’t have done all of that, but...” and then Doc started laughing. “No, Doc, we’re innocent...” “Innocent? You’re innocent of what?” Yeah, I usually have a quick comeback, but I just stood there like a rabbit that had been shot between the eyes. “Uh, yeah, well I heard something happened...” “A few days back, I saw the water pistol in your paper bag,” Doc said. And then he just laughed out loud. Oh, my gosh, you will never know how those words “water pistol” sent a chill down my spine. “Oh, don’t worry Richard. I’m not going to tell a soul. Paperboys are too hard to find.” And then Doc laughed again, and he added, “But your last one was a real humdinger. Wing said that detective guy came running in his office just screaming about his car being chained to stuff, and he smelled to high heaven—dog poop, he said. Well, Wing said he started laughing, and it really upset the man, and he yelled at Wing, “Who do you think could have done such a thing?” Well, Wing, who’s really mad because a city private eye is way down here in Norphlet trying to tell him how to do his job said, “The Norphlet Mafia, and get outta here, you’re stinking up the place.” Doc started laughing again, and I felt a little better, but the guy was still in town. Maybe the Norphlet Mafia needs to strike again, I thought. And this time we’ll hit him so hard he’d hitchhike back to Little Rock.