i ask of you the truth - 24. half a mile

by nick nelson

part twenty-four of twenty-four

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a little after midnight. the bus was half empty, had been all the way from the city, and johnny, sitting just behind the driver, had two seats to himself and had been watching the empty highway for a couple of hours. the bus stopped at a crossroads . “this is it, pal,” the driver annpunced. “thomasville.” the driver was a friendly fellow who looked like he ate a lot of apple pie. thomasville. where the great imperial coast to coast circus was due to arrive in two days. johnny did not see anything. but he grabbed his bag from the seat beside him and stood up. “so where is the town?” he asked. “or any place i can get a cab?” the driver pointed west. “there’s a filling station about half a mile up that road. you can get a cab there, but you might have to wait a while. you can get some good coffee and pie there. tell them bob sent you.” “thanks, i’ll do that.” the driver opened the door and johnny stepped down on to the road. the bus pulled away and johnny was left on the highway. he could not see any lights, but the moon was more than half full and he could see all right. he headed in the direction the driver had pointed out. sure enough, there was a little filling station just like the driver said, with a little diner beside it, with a light on. johnny pushed open the door of the diner. he did not see anybody, either behind the counter or on the stools or the one little booth. “anybody home?” he called. nobody answered. he had a bad feeling. he went back outside. he walked around the side of the building, to the back. and there, slumped against the wall, was a man. johnny knew right away, but checked the guy anyway. he was dead. a dead man. he was alone again with a dead man. there is no escape, johnny thought. no escape. the end

i ask of you the truth - 23. flown away

by nick nelson

part twenty-three of ?

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“this fellow here with the shotgun looks like he has some plans too.” “darn straight i do,” the clerk shouted. he pointed the shotgun at thelma and pulled the trigger. a bird, a blue bird, flew out of the left barrel and away into the sky. “look what you did, pop,” thelma said. “that was the bluebird of happiness, and now he has flown away.” the clerk pulled the other trigger on his old side by side. a white bird flew out of the right barrel and into the sky after the first bird. thelma turned and watched it. “what bird was that?” she asked. “probably the dove going back to noah,” slim said. “to tell him the flood is over.” the general laughed. “you really know your bible, slim.” the old man dropped the shotgun and sat down on the ground and started to cry. thelma snickered. “that’s right, old man, “ she told him, “sit down and weep, like moses at the rivers of babylon.” “it wasn’t moses that wept at the rivers of babylon,” slim told her. “it was the whole of the children of israel.” “if you say so.” “don’t argue with slim,” the general told her. “ i told you, he knows his bible.” slim looked up at the sky. the blue bird and the white bird had both disappeared. “this is all well and good,” he said to the general. “but now what? what’s this great change of plans?” “i will tell you later.” the general took a watch out of his pocket and looked at it. “right now, i think we should just get a move on.” “where to?” thelma asked. “yeah, where to?” slim repeated. “the circus is coming to town,” the general told them. “i think it would be a good idea if we joined it.” 24. half a mile

i ask of you the truth - 22. moving on

by nick nelson

part twenty-two of ?

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“she - she fell in with a bad crowd.” johnny waited for betsy to say more. “what kind of bad crowd?” he finally asked her. “dope dealers? bank robbers? communists?” “worse than any of that,” betsy told him. “she - joined the circus.” johnny managed not to laugh. “the circus? plenty of fine hard working folks in the circus. course you get some lowlifes too, but you can find lowlifes working at the general store.” he took a sip of the bad but hot coffee . “i wouldn’t worry too much about it.” “but i am worried about it,” betsy insisted. “you don’t know this circus. you don’t know what they wanted poor rose to do.” “what did they want poor rose to do?” “they wanted her to be the tattooed lady!” this time johnny did laugh. “well that beats being the fat lady, i guess, or the lady who gets knives thrown at her.” “it’s not funny,” rose looked she was ready to cry. “you are right,” johnny told her. “i shouldn’t have laughed. so did rose agree to be the tattooed lady?” “no, but she said she would think about it. think about it! what is there to think about?" “so then what is she doing now ?” betsy hesitated. “she’s a - hoochy -coochy dancer.” johnny took another sip of coffee. “that’s not so bad - in a circus or a carnival. they play in small towns, where folks go to church and read the bible. and kids can get into the shows, or at least sneak in. it’s not like being in a burlycue show in new york or chicago.” betsy did not look reassured. “but she’s out there in the middle of nowhere, all alone, traveling from town to town, in those bleak wide open spaces - where there could be tornados or outlaw gangs or stampedes of buffalos or who knows what…” “yeah,” johnny answered slowly. “yeah.” he looked out the window at the dark street. he could feel the american night calling to him. the american night, away from the stinking city, with its bums and welshers and crooked cops like grogan and its two timing con men like “professor” sturdivant… and its shadows and alleys filled with who knew what might have it in for him… “you know the name of this circus?” he asked betsy. “sure, it’s the great imperial coast to coast circus. that’s what it calls itself. but it’s a real two-bit operation, believe you me.” “the great imperial coast to coast circus, “ johnny repeated. he put his coffee cup down. “i tell you what, i will look it up. i will find it. and i will find out how rose is doing.” “you will? oh, johnny, thank you! thank you so much!” betsy turned to johnny and looked like she thought about hugging him, but did not actually do so. “think nothing of it,” johnny told her. “it was time for me, anyway.” “time for what?” “time to be moving on.” 23. flown away

i ask of you the truth - 21. a change in plans

by nick nelson

part twenty-one of ?

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slim legrand’s letter to joe willis was short and to the point. hey, old buddy, i will be drifting through your neighborhood in a few days and i might stop by and see how you are doing. (signed) slim “i wonder how he found out where i live,” joe muttered as dropped the letter on the kitchen table. “well, he is an old army buddy, isn’t he?” molly asked. “aren’t old army buddies always looking each other up? they are in the movies. isn’t that what they are for?” “i told you - he wasn't exactly a buddy. and i only knew him for a few months. and we didn’t keep in touch.“ joe stared into space, at least, he thought, slim had not mentioned where they had known each other - in punishment company m. joe did not want to have to explain to molly what he was doing in a punishment company. at last joe said. “the only reason slim legrand would get in touch with me would be if he wanted something from me. and i don’t know what that could be. and i sure don’t have anything to give him.” molly shrugged. “well, in that case, just tell him that. and besides, he doesn’t say he will drop by, only that he might.” “yes, “ joe agreed. “you’re right.” if slim legrand wants something from me, he thought, there is no “might” about it. * slim heard a voice behind him. “what’s going on here?” the voice of the general. he turned and there was the general, in a long black coat hanging down to his polished black shoes and with a homburg on his head. goldbrick was right behind him, in a chauffeur’s uniform. slim kept one eye on the old man with the shotgun. “what are you doing here?” he asked the general. “i was supposed to pick wiley up and go out and meet you.” “there’s been a change in plans.” slim shrugged . “i guess. this fellow here with the shotgun looks like he has some plans too.” * pete’s right leg had fallen asleep. he had not felt comfortable stretching out in the completely dark theater and now his leg had fallen asleep. and the movie, whether they had the reels right or not, was stupid. he decided to leave. had he reached his seat from the right or left? he thought from the right, and he had only come in a few seats so he decided to leave in the same direction. he got up, stumbled on his asleep right leg, and pitched forward, immedately colliding with another person, who yelped like a kicked dog. pete managed to get over the person and into the aisle, bumping against a wall. he still could not see a thing. “my crackerjack! you made me spill my crackerjack!” an old man’s voice shouted. pete saw a tiny glimmer of light on the floor which he hoped signified the exit and he scrambled for it. “pay for my crackerjack, you jerk!” the old man yelled behind him. something hit pete on the head - a cane? he got through the door into the little lobby. he glanced back and saw the door close on the old man, who looked a little bit like the desk clerk in the movie. the girl in the ticket booth watched with a blank expression as pete stumbled past her into the street. gasping in the fresh air, pete looked around. what time was it? the sky was overcast. was it getting late? had he fallen asleep in the strand theater? or was it just going to rain? a raindrop hit him. good enough. he couldn’t trudge around looking for a job in the rain, could he? he had already spent enough time looking for a job. he headed home. the rain began to fall a little harder. 22. moving on

i ask of you the truth - 20. long black limousine

by nick nelson

part twenty of ?

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“what if we don’t want to go on no stinking picnic? “ thelma asked. the queen of sheba got out of the back seat of the general’s jeep. she took the picnic basket tied with the big green bow with her, and walked up to thelma with it. “look at all these nice goodies.” the queen of sheba said, “are you sure you don’t want to come with us on our picnic?” “i can’t see no stinking goodies,” thelma answered. “if you don’t untie the basket.” “that makes sense,” the queen of sheba agreed. she tugged on the big green bow and it turned into a snake and dropped off the basket into the dirt. the snake wiggled toward slim and his horse. slim didn’t like being on a horse. he had never liked horses, which was one reason he had run away from his old pappy’s farm … the horse saw the snake and reared up… slim tried to stay on it… thelma and sophie and the queen of sheba and the general and goliath and jesse james and stonewall jackson all started laughing… and singing joshua fought the battle of jericho and the battle hymn of the republic… slim woke up. he was lying on the motel bed with his clothes on. sunlight filtered under the blind on the window. he checked his watch . it was quarter to eight. he got up and peeked around the blind on the window and looked outside, at the parking lot at the rear of the motel. there was one car parked there - a long black shiny limousine. slim knew right away it must belong to the general. was the general in it himself? he let the blind fall back into place. there was a bathroom down the hall and it was empty. slim brushed his teeth and splashed some water on his face and straightened his clothes out. he didn’t bother to shave. he figured he might get a shave at a barbers before meeting the general. he went down to the front desk but there was nobody there. he left the room key on the desk and went outside, out front where he had parked the night before. he blinked in the sunlight. his car was the only one he saw. the clerk’s wife - what did she say her name was? - was leaning back on the hood of it and puffing on a cigarette. “good morning, sunshine,” she greeted him. “you are right on time.” “i try to be,” slim told her. he took his car keys out of his pocket. “we might as well get going.” “we might as well.” thelma - that was her name - tossed her cigarette away and pushed herself off the hood of the car. “you are not going anywhere,” slim heard a voice behind him. he turned and it was the old man - the desk clerk - and he had a shotgun in his hand. a rusty looking shotgun, but a shotgun all the same. “you tramp,” the old man shouted, “where do you think you are going?” thelma did not look at all frightened, or even surprised. “come on, pop, don’t be so darned ornery. i asked this gentleman for a ride into town, that’s all.” “i’ll give you a ride into town. the town on the other side of the river jordan.” 21. a change in plans

i ask of you the truth - 19. the walls of jericho

by nick nelson

part nineteen of ?

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slim woke up. he had been dreaming, but he never remembered his dreams. he turned on the little lamp beside the bed in the motel room and looked at his watch, which he had left beside the lamp. it was only eleven thirty! he had hardly slept at all. he put the watch back down and reached for the lamp to turn it back off when there was a knock on the door. slim thought it sounded like a woman’s knock. probably the not so young young wife of the desk clerk again. slim was tempted to turn the light off and ignore but he realized she had probably seen the light - weak as it was - under the door. sure enough, there was the knock again, a little louder. “all right, i am coming,” slim called. he had fallen asleep on top of the bed, fully clothed except for his shoes, as he usually did if there was any chance he would have to get up and move quickly, he quickly slipped his shoes on and tied them and straightened and tightened his tie and got up and opened the door. it was the desk clerk’s wife. she had a mean little smirk on her face and she was holding something by her side. slim quickly saw that it was not a gun or a knife. it was a book. she offered it to slim. “the general wanted you to have this.” it was a gideon bible. slim hesitated. he decided it was no use to keep pretending he did not know anything about the general. “is he here now? why doesn’t he give me this himself?” “just take it, sweetheart. why does the general do anything?” slim took the bible from her hand. “there is a note inside,” she told him. “read it.” there was a small slip of paper inside the front cover. slim recognized the general’s enormous handwriting - or an imitation of it by someone who knew how he wrote. “my dear legrand,” it read, “please bring the bearer to our meeting tomorrow. signed - “o”. “you got that?” the wife asked. “yeah, i got it,” slim answered. always so complicated, he thought, but i should be used to it by now. “then i’ll see you in the morning. what time were you planning on leaving?” “about eight o’clock. how dies that sound? “eight o’clock it is, then. i will be out front. my name is thelma, by the way.” and she was gone, again. slim went back to the bed. he put the bible down beside the lamp and turned the lamp off and tried to get back to sleep again. then they came into the camp and lodged in the camp. and joshua rose early in the morning… jericho didn’t look like much, slim thought, as he rode up to it with joshua, jesse james, and stonewall jackson. just a crumby looking brick wall. he could see the tops of some houses behind the wall, but they did not look like much. the general was in his jeep behind them. goliath was driving it, and little david and the queen of sheba were in the back with a big picnic basket. the basket was tied with a big green bow. the sun came up over the walls of jericho. “what do we do now?” slim asked. he didn’t like being on a horse. he had never liked horses, which was one reason he had run away from his old pappy’s farm and taken up a life of skullduggery in the city. “just wait,” jesse james told him. “something will happen.” “something always does, “ stonewall jackson added. the sun kept climbing in the sky. there was a door in the wall and it opened. thelma came out, and the countess sophie de fitzgriffin. stonewall jackson tipped his big general’s hat to them. “morning, ladies.” “good morning yourself,” the countess answered. “what all is going on here?” “we would like to invite you on a picnic,” joshua told her. “what if we don’t want to go on no stinking picnic? “ thelma asked. 20. long black linousine

i ask of you the truth - 18. back in the u s a

by nick nelson

part eighteen of ?

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“your party is not answering, sir.” slim did not want to argue with the operator. he wanted his nickel back. “thank you, i will try later.” he hung the receiver up and his nickel dropped back down. the war was over. slim was out of the stockade, back in the u s a, and down on his luck. he had about a dollar’s worth of nickels and he was using them to try to track down some old friends and cellmates to see if they could help him out or at least give him a helpful steer. so far he had had twelve of his calls answered to the extent he could not get his nickel back but on only one of them had he actually got through to the person he was calling. that was rip johnson - why had he called that jerk? - and rip was no help at all and neither were any of the other people who had picked up - some of them wives or girl friends, most of them claiming they never heard of the party slim was calling. and he had not gotten through at all, and gotten his nickel back, nineteen times. the bus station was not that crowded, and the phones were not all being used, so slim could have kept going but he decided to quit for a while. he went outside. he looked up and down the street and saw twenty places where he could get a cup of coffee. at least in every one of them the coffee would taste great compared to the coffee in the stockade and on the troop ship that brought him back to the states. he had forty cents left. should he get a cup of coffee and then panhandle? or should he panhandle the price of a cup of coffee first? since being picked up in paris eighteen months ago and sent to the stockade he had not had to make any decisions like this. he saw a man sitting on a park bench reading a newspaper. a big man, and he filled the bench up from side to side. the newspaper he was reading completely covered his face and upper body, but slim saw that he had a new shine on his shoes. slim decided to ask the man for a nickel, maybe even for a dime. he approached the man, and as he did, the man lowered the newspaper and looked directly at slim. it was the general. in civilian clothes, and looking like he had put on a few pounds since slim saw him last. “hello there,” the general said, as if he had seen slim a week ago. “it’s a small world,” was the best slim could come up with. “yes, and i do my part to make it smaller all the time,” the general replied. “i like that suit,” slim said. “a little flashy, but on you it looks good.” “thank you. you are looking well yourself,’ the general replied. “i could use a square meal.” the general laughed. “always right to the point. i am happy to see you haven’t changed.” “you’re not sore, are you?” “sore about what? we won the war, didn’t we?” “that’s right, we did. why don’t we celebrate with some ham and eggs?” “why not?” the general started to fold up his newspaper. “any place in particular you had in mind?” “one place is as good as another.” the general got to his feet. “isn’t it, though? i had a decent cup of coffee in that place over there.” he waved his paper at a place directly across from the bus station that seemed to be marked simply “cafe.” “you weren’t following me, were you?” slim asked as he fell in beside the general. “of course i was following you. what else would i be doing here? i have a job for you.” “just like old times.” “what’s wrong with old times?” slim did not bother to answer. they waited for a break in the traffic, so that they could cross the street. 19. the walls of jericho

i ask of you the truth - 17. gaboriau

by nick nelson

part seventeen of ?

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the sky was beginning to lighten when slim and the countess started to walk over to the chateau the general had abandoned. the countess had found slim some raggedy old clothes and he changed out of his fatigues into them, only keeping his army boots. slim thought they were wasting their time but was humoring the countess. “who lived here before?” slim asked the countess, just to be saying something. “nasty people,” the countess told him. “collaborators.” “not heroes of the resistance like you, huh?” the countess laughed. “is that part of your secret mission, monsieur slim, to decide who was a collaborator and who was a hero or heroine of the resistance?” “um - i guess not.” “i did not think so.” “well, here we are,” slim said, happy to change the subject, as they reached the driveway of the chateau. the countess pointed to the jeep that had been left behind. “could we take that?” “it might not be a good idea,” slim said. “it would be stealing army property. and besides, i can guarantee there is no gas in it - you would have to find your own.” the countess ran her hand over the side of the jeep. “look how polished it is! just like everything in america, no?” “everything that belongs to a general, maybe. or a millionaire.” “you are sure there is no gas in it?” “you can stick your nose in the gas tank if you want. but i will bet you everything you own it is empty.” “oh? and why is that?” the countess persisted. “because war is gasoline, “ slim replied. “the whole war is about gasoline. gasoline is civilization.” the countess laughed. “you do not say so? i would not have taken you for a philosopher of history, monsieur slim.” “i’m just repeating some of the general’s favorite sayings. “ “ah.” “he had a lot of favorite sayings. and he liked to say them over and over.” slim pointed to the house. “do you want to go inside?” the countess shrugged. “of course.” and with a last glance at the polished jeep, she followed slim through the front door. in the morning light the inside of the chateau looked kind of crummy. other than that, it looked the same as slim remembered it from the night before. except… there was something on the mantel of the fireplace. slim went over for a closer look. it was the frammis! slim almost blacked out! but he pulled himself together, when he heard the countess ask, “what is that thing?” “i don’t know,” slim told her in as normal a voice as he could. the countess made a move toward the fireplace for a closer look, but just as she did, they heard a car pull into the driveway outside! “who can that be?” the countess asked. was this some kind of crazy double cross, slim wondered. “i don’t know,” he told the countess, “but if you want to talk to them, you can.” there was a hallway to the right of the fireplace that slim remembered led to the kitchen and slim ducked into it. he heard the front door open. whoever it was had entered without knocking or ringing a doorbell. slim kept inside the hallway, but in a mirror in the drawing room he saw two men enter - one in plain clothes, in a heavy belted overcoat and wide hat, and a uniformed policeman. “who might you be?” the countess asked the man in plain clothes. “i will ask the questions, madame. are you the comtesse sophie de fitzgriffin, resident of the house across the road?” “i am she.” “i am inspector gaboriau, of the criminal investigation department, and i arrest you for the murder of that most noble of patriots, the duc de lautreamont.” “nonsense! the duke and i were the greatest of friends. i would never have harmed a hair on his noble head.” “be that as it may, madame, i must ask you to company me to paris.” paris! slim reentered the room and walked up to inspector gaboriau. “say, pal, i am an american on a secret mission. think you could help me out with a lift to paris? the inspector considered for a few seconds. “i do not see why not.” the two policemen led the countess outside and slim followed them. paris! and they had not even noticed the frammis on top of the fireplace! 18. back in the u s a