The Norphlet Mafia, Chapter 13 and 14, post 18

“Now, everybody calm down!” he hollered.“And Bubba lay that skillet down, and you and Mrs. Davis get a mop and clean this floor where we can walk. Now, Doc get that damn wheelchair out of the doorway, and everybody who wants to leave just ease by Doc.” Chapter 14 The Daily Special Well, with the Marshal taking control, things kinda calmed down, and although everybody was soaking wet from being sprayed by Mrs. Davis wielding the sink hose, in about 30 minutes Bubba and Mrs. Davis had the floor mopped and the ketchup bottle glass picked up, and things were somewhat back to normal. “Bubba, you and Paul take a seat at this table with me. We’re gonna talk about this note Paul found on his car.” Bubba, who still had blood in his eyes was looking at Mr. Paul about like you might look at somebody who had slapped your mother, and Mr. Paul was nodding to Marshal Wing like “Yeah, let’s put that sorry Bubba in handcuffs and put him in a cell.” When the big fight started, I slipped over behind the counter to stay out of the action, and as things just got really wild, I kept thinking about what I had caused by writing the notes. I moved around where I could hear Marshal Wing, Bubba, and Mr. Paul talk, and the first thing I heard was Mr. Paul yell, “That sorry ______#* put chains on my bumpers and costs me twenty-five hundred dollars! Marshal, you’ve got note he put on my car! Arrest him!” “Now just calm down, Paul. I have the note, and I know about the chains hooked to your bumpers, but I have a few questions….” About that time Bubba broke in and said, “I didn’t put no note on your car, and I didn’t tie them chain on your bumpers, but I’d like to shake the hand of whoever did it. Anyway, putting that note on the cafe door telling me how sorry my food is should get you thrown in jail.” “Huh? I didn’t put a note on the cafe door, but whoever did sure knew how bad the crap is that you serve.” Yeah, Bubba and Mr. Paul were leaning across the table like two bulldogs ready to go at it again, and they would have if Marshal Wing hadn’t kinda fingered his blackjack, which sure got their attention. “Now, just calm down you two, and let’s figure this out. First off, Bubba was there a name on the note you found on the cafe door?” “Naw, Marshal, but I knowed it was that sorry Yankee…” “Hold on, Bubba. Paul was there a name on your note?” “No, but it had to be put there by that big lumbering idiot.” “Hold on, fellows. What we have is two notes with no names on them. Don’t y’all think somebody could be trying to cause trouble? And I think, the notes look like they were written by the same person. Somebody is just trying to get things in an uproar.” That’s when I felt little drops of sweat pop out on my forehead, and I started having trouble breathing. But that weren’t near all of the talk between the Marshal, Bubba, and Mr. Paul. Right off, Mr. Paul nodded like maybe the Marshal had something, but Bubba was still shaking his head when Marshal Wing said, “I think somebody did this to take the heat off of them.” Yeah, that caused a shiver to zip right up my back, and then Mr. Paul kinda started talking like he was Shureood Helms, “Marshal, I think you’re on to something, and this could very easily be organized crime right here in Norphlet.” There was a big couple of “huhs” from Marshal Wing and Bubba. “Yeah, I’ve seen this pattern before, and this is just the way it starts. Mark my word, the Norphlet Mafia will strike again, and it won’t be just a couple of notes next time.” Well, Marshal Wing had just been joking when he wised off to Mr. Paul about the chains on Mr. Paul’s bumper, and he was shaking his head like “no” but he couldn’t get a word in ’cause Mr. Paul was giving forth like nothing you have ever heard. And finally Marshal Wing just said, “Well, who knows, but let’s just put this little note thing behind us. Bubba, I think the three of us sitting down and having lunch would help get things back to normal. Why don’t you serve us up the Daily Lunch Special? I’m paying.” Well, I could tell Bubba didn’t really want to serve Mr. Paul, but he finally nodded and headed for the kitchen. Heck, things were just swimming through my mind when the Marshal said, “I have a pretty good idea who might have caused this mess…” And then Mr. Paul butted in and said, “I had only heard of the Mafia in New York City, but maybe they’ve spread south. Do you know any members of the Norphlet Mafia?” ”Well, if you want to call ’em that…” “What are you waiting for Marshal? Do you want me to call in the FBI to help round them up? This situation is only gonna get worse…” “Hold on Paul. I just said I might know who’s behind all of this, and I sure don’t need the FBI.” “Marshal, I’ve had experience is dealing with the Mafia. I think I can be of help. First off, do you have anyone in town from Sicily? That’s the home of the Mafia.” “Wait a minute, Paul. Let’s don’t jump to conclusions…” “Do you?” “Do I what?” “Have anyone in town from Sicily?” “Well, yeah, Mr. Frantinno. He has a shoe repair shop just a few blocks down from my office.” “Ha, I thought so! Marshal, I recommend we place 24-hour surveillance on him.” “Are you out of your mind? I can’t do that. I’m the only law enforcement officer in town. Well, Curly, the constable, might help, if we can keep him sober, but I don’t think Mr. Frantinno is a Mafia member, and if I’m not mistaken, this whole mess has been caused by someone a lot younger than Mr. Frantinno.” “You can never be sure, Marshal.”