Chapter Twenty Seven

There it was, the sign I had been looking for. We had stopped at a Steak and Shake for a little lunch and conversation. Things took a turn downwards when Louis got a milk shake. He tore the end off of the paper that surrounded his straw and blew on the open end. The paper flew like a rocket across the table into Russells' good eyeball and stuck. Russell began screaming and fell to floor. Dr. Granger pulled the paper out of his eye and poured a glass of water into it. He should've taken the ice out before he poured. Paper thin shards of ice got under his eyelid and sent Russell into a rage like I've never seen. Louis, Louis, and Granger dragged him into the men's room and worked on him for about 15 minutes. The echoes from the tiled bathroom were reminiscent of the bovine cries in a slaughter house. Some people got up and left.

I had finished eating and I went to pay the bill. Fortunately no one came to the register while I was standing there. I wouldn't have known how to find the right amount of money to hand over. There, above the register, was a message written on a thin, swinging sign. I had been contemplating our adventure and what it could mean. I thought of Fort Sackville. I thought of Sacagawea. I thought of the "Sack of lies." Here in front of me was a message from the Steak and Shake people. It said "Takhomasak!"

I stared at it like I was looking at the Grand Canyon. A waitress, noticing my head scar and my comatose condition took Mary Beth's elbow in her hand. "Is he alright? Is he brain damaged?"

Mary Beth did not wince. "Yes and......Yes." She replied.

I decided that it would be a good idea if I drove the rest of the way. I don't know if everyone thought it was a good idea or they were just afraid of hurting my feelings, but we all piled into the car with me behind the wheel. Everyone but Russell sat erect and wide-eyed as we pulled out onto the highway. Silence filled the SUV until Lisa spoke. "You might want to try the right side of the road." I complied.

Everyone remained silent when I passed a fire truck with its lights and siren on.

I drove pretty well despite the distractions. My dead dog Nancy stood on the hood of the car for about 20 miles feeling the wind on her face. The legendary Jesse Owens ran beside us for about 6 miles.

Outside the town of Shoals, Indiana we came upon a man attempting to change the tire on his Mercury Montego and I felt the need to stop and help him. My son Louis jumped quickly from the back seat and offered his expertise in tire changing. He had worked for a tire store when he was in high school and could handle the job easily. The little man was grouchy and unreceptive, he went so far as to push Louis away and told him he could handle it. He chose to pretend as if we weren't even there and continued fumbling through the job like he was wearing a pair of boxing gloves. "Let my son give you a hand buddy." I said as nicely as I could.

"Get the hell away from me." His little, yellow, corn niblet teeth bared as he spoke. "Mind your own damn business."

One armed Louis yapped back at him. "Don't be a stupid jackass you stupid jackass."

The man threw down his tire iron and tried to come face to face with Louis. He was considerably shorter. "Save me from your Kentucky bullshit ....Idiot....asshole." He sized up Louis looking at his missing limb and called him the nastiest thing he could come up with in such short notice. "Arm-o!" he said.

Louis grabbed his neck with his existing hand and squeezed. The man swung wildly at Louis' head. We all ran to break up the fight. Granger came running down the highway from Candace's Mercedes. Bob came screaming something no one could understand. Russell came charging blindly and ran squarely into a "Do Not Pass" sign and collapsed into the ditch. Cynthia sneaked up from behind and kicked the little man in his butt , accidentally catching his testicles with the tip of her shoe. He fell to the ground clutching his groin and writhing in pain.

"Coach Butcher!" said Dr. Granger, instantly recognizing the winingest coach in Indiana High School basketball history. "Coach Jack Butcher, the winingest coach in history!" He said.

Coach Butcher smiled his yellow little smile, still clutching his injured goodies. "Why yes."

"I'm Reggie Granger, power forward for the 1985 Wildcats." Granger smiled like a Las Vegas marquee.

"Oh my God!" Coach Butcher leapt to his feet and began pumping Granger's hand. "I remember you. You should've gone pro!"

"Not in the cards." Granger bowed is head for a moment. "What are you doing here?"

"I live down the road here in Loogootee." He said.

I had read his book,"Butcher Ball" that I had found by the road after the accident in Russell's car the first time I got out of the hospital. Now here in a twist of irony, I had found HIM by the side of the road. He pronounced the name of his home town Low-Go-Tea. Every time I had read it in the book I heard it differently in my head. I read it as Lou-Goo-Tea.

Coach and Granger started yakking like two little girls. In the time it takes for an Indy 500 pitstop, Louis had fixed the tire. We drove to Loogootee and dropped the Coach's car off at Tater's Sunoco gas station, next to the only stoplight in town, and he jumped into the Mercedes with Dr. Granger. He was joining our trip to Vincennes. Another piece of crap stuck to the rolling snowman called Martin.