Moments in a Fleamarket
She kept staring at John. "Why do you let Uncle Chet say mean things?" She finally asked. "He's bad. I don't like him."
Johnny blinked. "He's not all that bad."
"Yes, he is, There were a lot of people like him on the beach, didn't like them, neither. Do I have to call him 'Uncle'? Can't he be like, a step-tenth cousin, fifty times removed instead?"
John sighed, Chet Kelly had not left a good impression on Cassie, he'd scared her and earned himself sharply kicked shins in the process. Then, once he'd turned loose of her and she'd limped quickly straight into John's arms, had insulted them both.
"Sweetheart..."
She pulled up her t-shirt sleeve to reveal Chet's handprint on her upper left arm, already bruising. "Don't ever leave me alone with him, please?" She asked plaintively. "He's mean."
Gage's face darkened at the sight of the new bruise. "I promise. I'm also going to tell your Dad so he can have a little chat with our Chester B." He pulled into a filling station and went to a bank of pay phones to call Roy, spoke a little while, and came back to his Rover with a smirk. "You just let your Daddy take care of Chet. I told him what you wanted as far as Chet being a step-cousin and how far removed and he gave his okay for that. He's still at the station and told our captain about the bruise. Roy won't be the only man giving Chet a talking to he'll never forget."
He did not repeat what his captain or Roy had to say about her request to never be left alone with Kelly. He didn't say anything about the honest horror he'd heard in Chet's voice when told about the bruise or Roy's information that little Cassie bruised with great ease. She picked up dings and marks from things that other kids wouldn't even notice. They all knew that Kelly, having frightened the child badly, would treat her with kid gloves. Chet was usually quite good with kids, it was unfortunate that this had happened. Kelly would be seriously bummed about it, John knew.
Roy had told him on the phone that he'd already spoken to Joe Early about it and that the doc thought it was something diet related...which was already being corrected and would disappear over time. It was something not uncommon with poor nutrition...she was still small for her age, still too thin, though the girl's double worm infestations had been dealt with the first day at the hospital, when the knee injury had been treated. He still shuddered at the knowledge she'd picked up both round worms and a tapeworm...though with the parasites gone, she was picking up weight at a good rate. Jo's expression had been haunted, then she'd rounded on the child service's rep and said bluntly, "That child belongs to me from this point forward. Get on it! Move!"
John's lips twitched a little at the memory of that moment, as he told Cassie to wait and went in to get a soda for both of them. It was a half hour drive to the fleamarket where he maintained a booth, mostly for selling his wood carvings, little statues, small wooden toys, and such things. He'd simply let her use some of the counterspace. He stopped at a grocers closer to the market and filled two ice chests with lunchmeat, cheese, lettuces...she insisted on the Romaine instead of the iceberg he was going to get, bread...she wanted pumpernickel because it was one of the black breads and, according to her, better for you. She also asked him to get a ripe papaya, a bag of clemintines, a few ripe mangos and milk. He used another payphone to call Jo Ann and ask about the girl's food choices. Roy's wife had chuckled at him and agreed with Cassie.
"Tastes better, is more filling, has far higher nutrition, yes. She's right, Johnny. My new daughter is serious about the value of food. She got her Dad to add to the raised beds, now that he's been shown how. She's got a huge section of loose leaf, dark green or red-tipped leafy greens and other...what she calls 'power' veggies have been planted. They're barely showing, mind you, but they are showing. Not one iceberg in the whole bed." She laughed. "Chris complained when he realized she was putting in broccoli on purpose and she suggested he eat it raw or in an eggplant cassarole with a cheese sauce...and that boiled anything was boring."
"Roy said something about a broccoli resurgence at his house." He grinned at Cassie.
"I made a good four cheese, cheese sauce from a cookbook, put eggplant, spinach, turnip greens, mustard greens, collards, ham, bacon diced turnips, sugar peas and green-beans, lima peas, danvers half-long carrots, pearl onions, cabbage, brussels sprouts , whole red potatoes and whole cherry tomatoes in a really big, really deep cassarole dish and mixed all of it up in the cheese sauce...and then asked Daddy to call that super chef guy he was talking about to check it." She sounded incredibly smug for a nine-year-old. "Wasn't sure what heat to use in a real oven and Daddy wouldn't let me put a firepit in the back yard to cook it the right way."
Gage wasn't surprised in the least that Roy had nipped that notion in the bud. "So...Charles came over to figure that part out?"
"Yep. Liked the sauce I made, liked the veggies and meat I used and stayed for supper. And I think he copied my veg-mix recipe too. I know he took some home. He showed Mama how to put some in gallon-sized freezer bags for later meals and only a small amount went into the fridge for left overs." She gave Johnny a fat smile. "But my sibs ate so much they could barely move and nobody complains about me growing food no more. A good cheese sauce makes everything taste good, even things you don't normally like. And Mama said she liked that trick...and that she buys a ton of cheese every week anyway so she has it handy. So I said the cookbook has cheese sauces intended for dipping raw veg into and that hollendaise is good for dipping raw fruit into or mixing fruit salad...and fruit salad can be diced fruit of any sort, not just the normal kind, thirds of grapefruit slices (cuz a little sour goes a really long way), tangerines slices, papaya, banana, grapes or raisins, cracked hazelnuts or cashews halves are good in it for proteins, diced plums, diced peaches, diced mango, diced melons of every sort...all sorts of stuff. If it's fruit or small nuts, add it. And no marshmallows...and she got this huge smile. Said something about bridge parties and our next church social."
"Yeah, I'd say you did quite well, indeed." He grinned hearing the likely conversations in his mind, knowing a fruit salad supreme would go over well with both events. And give her bragging rights on her daughter..."Cassie came up with it, here, try her casserole, too...it's wonderful isn't it? And she's only nine!"
He keep from laughing in joy, as he packed the coolers and got them back into the Rover, which would have been taken the wrong way, but it wasn't easy. He was proud of her, though.
While Gage had glanced through the topmost skins in each box at Roy's house the day before, they were, as she began to unpack the last box, he quickly realized, the normal sizes The sheer size of the ones she'd used to make belts from had made him pale, but these? In several cases whole hides were intact and unused since they were of a good size to make boots from, caused a full body shudder to run through the paramedic.
"Has your Daddy seen these big ones?"
"Nope, I told him last night that I was gonna show him the hides from the great big ones that almost always take at least three hits to kill, but his voice went funny, and he turned sorta yellowish, then he said unpacking all the boxes meant we'd have to repack them and it would wait until you and me got here. I did tell him that I told the beach's game warden I'd found out where those eastern hippies had released the Eastern Diamondbacks, though."
"Ah." Was all he said concerning Roy's reaction and avoidance, but now he understood why the big sidewinder yesterday hadn't phased her in the slightest. There were a few that was nearly six feet long and those were the ones she wanted boots made from...in Roy's size. For Christmas. She had enough unworked hides that he was pretty sure the Fleamarket cobbler (excellent craftsman) could do that several times over. "Stay here, I'll go get someone who can make your Dad's boots. You've sold everthing else."
He also wanted time to get himself under control. His reaction to the size snakes involved was understandable, but she'd scared him just thinking about everything that could have gone badly wrong.
The part-time cobbler was excited over the hides, impressed when he found out she'd hunted them herself and made the leather, which was very good quality for snakeskin. He named a price and she surprised John when she dug into her pocket for her wallet and paid the man.
"Cassie?"
"I'm good at saving and not spending unless I have to." She shrugged, helping the cobbler box up the biggest skins. She had paid him enough for two pairs and slid him John's size as well as her Father's.
"Apparently." He nodded at the grinning bootmaker, who realized that the other man had not seen what the girl had done right under his nose.
"Uncle John? Give the guy the station address for delivery, would you?"
"That works."
"Station?"
"Her Father and I are county firefighters, our station is 51, in Carson City. Here's the address." He handed a slip of paper to the other man.
"Small world, I didn't know that you were that Gage, John."
"Daddy and Uncle Johnny are special, though."
"In what way?"
"They make owies go away. Even really bad ones. And Daddy drives the squad and the rocking chair really good."
"Owies?" Paul was quite clearly amused. "Is that what we're calling it these days?"
"We're paramedics, Paul. I'm off duty, just now, though."
"So, her Father drives the rocking chair, does he?"
"He does." John nodded. "As I understand it, he does a tremendous job. She loves it."
"Yup!" Cassie chirped.
"Gage, just so you're aware...I'm the B shift Engineer at 187ths. You can relax, I'm not going to bug you, if I need to bug someone we've got our own squad: Who's her Dad?"
"Roy DeSoto. He's my partner and we're A shift."
"Good to know. And I know him, can't wait to ask him about the rocking chair."
"Plus, Daddy said that since he wants to keep his curls, Uncle Johnny would give me all his pink and his lace...but I don't like Chet so he has to keep his...he's mean and he's really, really strange."
John turned a dusky red, then explained the conversation Roy had repeated to him.
"Doesn't like Kelly, then, does she...if she's making him keep his."
"No, she doesn't. At all. He scared her and she hasn't gotten past it yet."
"Thought Chester B was good with children."
"He is, he was teasing and she didn't know he was playing. He scared her pretty bad."
"How bad?"
John repeated her comment about distant cousin being better than Uncle."
Paul Haffler sighed. "It happens, but he's got his work cut out for him to fix it."
"Yep."
"Uncle Johnny am I bad for putting both pairs of my brand new bright red socks in the washer with Chet's socks, underwear and all those bed sheets?"
John and Paul eyed the girl.
"Um, Cassie...why...?"
"Mama said I should wash them first so they don't bleed extra dye out on our clothes at home, but not to run the washer for just four little socks...so since the meanie was loading the station washer...I..."
"Kelly is pulling an extra shift." John said slowly. "With Hookraider."
Paul started chuckling. "Everybody knows him. Doing the sheets for the whole station, I take it. 6 man shift?"
"Yep. Beats shining trashcans."
"It would, yes."
"After turning all the linens a bright neon, hot pink, Hookraider will have him doing the grout in the latrines, with a toothbrush...for years." Johnny guessed.
Paul and John both started laughing, with an added "GOOD girl, Cassie!" from John.
TBC