After the steaks, Hardcastle joined McCormick in a pre-celebration drink of Tequila.
Mark asked, "Judge, where do I go from here, if I don't pass the Bar?"
"You can always be my gardener and pool man. Relax. You have a job," he replied.
Shaking his head, Mark took a sip of the Tequila, "That's a comfort, Judge."
"It's that or lumpy mashed potatoes." Hardcastle said, referring to Mark's repeated complaint of lumpy mashed potatoes while in prison.
"I'm past that! Well, God, willin' I'm past that! Except when you cook!" Mark raised his glass to the Judge.
"Cute, McCormick! Real cute!" he exclaimed.
About an hour later the phone rang. Hardcastle answered it, "Hardcastle." then he handed Mark the phone. "It's for you."
"Yeah?" Mark tried his best not to slur. The Tequila was just beginning to relax him.
"Is this Mark McCormick, Attorney?" the female voice asked.
Mark was thinking hard before speaking. Mark knew this voice. He was sure he knew this voice. It was a voice from his past. "Well, ... that remains to be seen."
"If I can pass the Bar you can! You were always smarter than me." the voice said.
Now, he knew the voice. "If I was so damned smart, how did I let you talk me into stealing a car? And if I was so smart, how did I get caught?"
"Because you cared. Cared about my dad, cared about me and cared about that police officer. And, you care about people or you wouldn't have studied your butt off for the past several years to become the best attorney in the the state," Barbara Johnson said.
"Whoa! Hold it! I have to pass the Bar before I can become an attorney -- let alone the best in the state!" Mark said.
"Again, if I can do it you can!" she replied. "You stood by me and convinced me to go to law school. There is no doubt if I can pass the Bar with my scatter brain that you can, especially with Judge Hardcastle behind you."
"Yeah, kicking me all the way." Mark said, referring to Hardcase being behind him.
"Well, now, that the hard part is done. ... Care to have a little fun?" Barbara asked.
Mark had no idea what she meant. "What are you talking about?"
"Well, since you have completed the test you don't have classes or studying anymore?" she said.
"Right." he replied.
"Well, thanks to you for pushing me to go to law school, I have been able to make a decent living. Thanks to my dad, the Coyote wasn't his only design. I have another car built and ready for testing. The cockpit was designed to your size. Mark it was built for you to drive. What are you doing this weekend?" she asked.
Mark tried to clear the now forming cobwebs from his head. "You catch me a sheet and a half in the wind and want me to think?"
"Just tell me you'll meet me at the track Thursday. I'll have the car haulers there. You can stay at the track. We'll enter the Coyote and the new car. I intend to let the racing world know Flip Johnson knew his stuff! I now have the money to back that statement, thanks to you!" she almost begged.
"I'll be there. Wild horses couldn't keep me from letting that bunch know that Johnson Racing is back!" he said determinedly.
Barbara said. "Mark I love you! Thanks. I know you did great on the test!"
"I wished I was as confident! See ya, Thursday." He paused, "Barbara, thanks for calling." Mark said.
"The race be damned, I'd have called you tonight. Just like you called me. Tell the judge 'Hi', and whatever, you're drinking I hope it works. Been there, done that!" she said, knowing part of the demons, Mark would face in the weeks of uncertainty before the test results came back.
Mark hung up the phone. Took a long drink and didn't say a word.
"Hu-humm." Hardcastle cleared his throat letting Mark know he was still in the universe.
The judge was a bit of a control freak about the cordless phone and the TV remote. Mark looked at the phone still in his hand. "Oh, here, Judge. Sorry."
Stringing the word out slowly, "Mcccc---Cor--miccck! That wasn't what I wanted." Hardcastle said.
"Oh, ... that was Barbara Johnson. It seems she has had another of Flip's designs brought to life. She wants me to run the Coyote and the new car this weekend." Mark explained, "Care to go?"
"So you are going to go?" Hardcastle seemed a bit surprised. "After the trouble with the Coyote?"
Mark nodded, "That's exactly why I'm going!" then he continued, "Better come along and make sure she doesn't convince me to steal any cars."
"That's not even funny, McCormick! Besides, you might not get a judge that's so understanding, ... this time!" Hardcastle said.
Finishing his tequila, Mark held out his glass for a refill. "Yeah, I might only go to prison, this time!"
"Only? Huh?" Hardcastle reminded, "Remember, I've seen you a time or two, very ready to leave the comforts of a jail cell for all this agony!" He said making a sweeping motion of the estate.
"Only wanted you to feel needed, Judge." McCormick was slurring considerably now.
00000
It had been very late when Hardcastle walked a short distance behind McCormick (unknown to him) to see he made it into the gatehouse without sleeping on the lawn. Hardcastle was up early as usual. He had his coffee, picked up the basketball and opened the door, then he stopped. Looking at the basketball he decided to read the paper and give McCormick some time to sleep off his vacation.
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McCormick was used to getting up early, so when he rolled over the bright sunlight shining into the room made it look funny, even with his eyes still closed. For a split second he forgot he didn't have an early class and, thinking he was late, he sat straight up as he opened his eyes. This was his first mistake. When he shot up, a pain from hell hit the top of his head. He was certain that the top of his head was no longer attached as he realized too late he didn't have a class. Letting himself fall back onto the pillow was his next mistake. Mark felt his hand on something hard and cold beside him in the bed. Picking up the unfamiliar object he managed to peek at it while shading his eyes. It was the tequila bottle with only about one shot left in it. Holding his pounding head, he managed to croak through a mouth so dry it felt like he had eaten sand, "Oh, God." He needed to get something besides the tequila to drink, and he was becoming very aware of the need to go to the bathroom, but frankly, he wasn't sure he'd make it to either. Slowly, very slowly he rolled toward the bed's edge, hoping his legs would not buckle when his feet hit the floor. He felt the floor and managed to stand, still bent at the waist with his head still on the pillow. Mark's eyes were still shut as he let go of the clutched pillow and began pushing himself up with his arms. When he got as far as his arms would push him, he felt for the back of the bed and the wall. After 'walking' himself up the wall to a standing position, while still holding on, he managed to slowly open his eyes. He stayed very still to let the dizziness pass before attempting to walk first to the bathroom then to the refrigerator. The only thing in there to drink was a pitcher of cold water. It would do until he got a shower and made it to the main house. Mark was so thirsty from his night of vacation he turned the pitcher up and drank from it...
The next thing Mark knew he was sitting up, on something hard, (the floor) with his head against something cool (the kitchen cabinet). His arms and legs felt like they weighed a hundred pounds each and his eyes refused to open. After what seemed like hours (due to a nap), he managed to get his eyes open to find himself sitting, feet wide apart, on the kitchen floor right where he'd slide when the cold water hit the alcohol still in his system. He wasn't sure it was possible, but he felt drunker now, than when he came from the pool last night. He managed to make it to the couch, pull up the throw, and soon was asleep again.
00000
Hardcastle had read the papers, showered, and decided to run several errands while Markvacationed. Hardcastle knew he'd pay for last night, but figured that he'd earned the right to get totally plastered, especially since he was home and not bothering anyone.
It was around 4 o'clock when Hardcastle pulled into the driveway. The Coyote was still parked in the same spot, then he remembered he had McCormick's keys. He walked to the gatehouse and opened the door, full of energy and ready for a good ball game since he missed shooting his hoops this morning.
"Hey, McCormick. McCormick!" He called from the front door. Nothing. He was taking in the sight of the disarray of the living room as he tried once more, "McCormick, are you here?"
He was ready to leave when a pile of clothes and blanket moved on the the couch.
"McCormick, I know you aren't taking a nap this early in the evening! Come on, get up!"
There was a groan from the moving pile of clothes. Then one arm came out and pushed the covers back.
"Come on. How about a little one on one?" Milt said with a voice that boomed in Marks head.
Mark pushed himself to a partially setting position and rubbed his face.
"Damn! McCormick. You look like hell!" Hardcastle said, seeing him for the first time today.
"Thanks. ... I look better, ... than I feel." Mark said. "Look, if you want me to live, let me die in peace."
"McCormick are you drinking again today?" Hardcastle asked concerned.
"Nope," was Mark's answer as he stood and managed to try to hide the stagger. He caught a look of disbelief. He managed to mumble while heading toward the bathroom. He was hoping by getting in the shower he'd live and Hardcastle would leave him to his shower. "Still drunk. Long story." He paused, "After the shower." The hot water felt very welcome as Mark stood very still under the steam of water.
00000
On the patio, Hardcastle saw what he guessed was supposed to be a cool looking McCormick heading his way wearing the darkest mirrored sunglasses he owned even though the sun was not bright. "Are you enjoying your vacation from feeling?"
"Cute, Hardcase! Cute." Mark said quietly, as he gently sat down in the lawn chair.
They spent the rest of the evening relaxing by the pool then went in to watch the John Wayne double feature. Mark welcomed this except for the scenes involving loud horses and gun fire, as he was able to fake interest in this movie he knew by heart while catching a cat nap here and there.
00000
The next day found McCormick his old self. As he only groaned slightly hearing the basketball hit the side of the house. Tossing the covers back he got up, dressed in only a pair of swimming trunks. He stumbled to the kitchen to again find only water in the refrigerator. "Got to go to the store!" he sighed. As he came back through the living room, he pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt that had been tossed onto the back of the couch. Then he had to search for his tennis shoes. After finally finding them, he made his way outside and promptly took the ball away from Hardcastle and tossed it easily into the basket.
"McCormick you'll pay for that!" Hardcastle insisted.
"Ok, we'll see just as soon as I get back from the house." he turned to walk away.
Hardcastle knew before he asked but asked anyway. "Why are you in such a big hurry to go to myhouse?"
"To raid the refrigerator. I know you have some OJ or some grape juice hidden somewhere in there," Mark said as he kept walking.
Hardcastle said, "Nope. Just apple."
He stopped and said, "Apple? No one likes apple juice." Then he kept walking sure to find something to drink other than water or apple juice."
"Well, I do! And it is my refrigerator!" Hardcastle called after him, then continued to shoot baskets.
Several minutes later Mark returned with a large glass of grape juice. "You wouldn't hold out on a guy would you, Hardcase?"
Hardcastle shrugged his shoulders and said, "Forgot it was there."
McCormick watched the judge practice his baskets as he finished his juice, then set the glass down a safe distance from the basketball area. "So, how about the best two out of three?"
"You are feeling better this morning!" Hardcastle smiled pleased.
The first game Mark took 20 - 18. He was feeling good this morning and wanted to play the three games so he took it easy and lost the second game 16-20. The third game was tied 18- 18 when Mark stole the ball and faked the Judge out to score the winning basket.
Hardcastle called, "Foul!"
"Foul, my foot! I've been hit harder than that on an off day," Mark protested as he carried the ball toward the main house.
"It's you that insists on playing combat basketball McCormick!" the Judge said. Then asked, "So what are you fixing for breakfast?"
"Oh, I see. I win, and I still have to fix breakfast?" Mark complained.
Hardcastle said, "Well, you sure didn't cook yesterday!"
Mark had already taken out a skillet and was searching the refrigerator.
Hardcastle watched. He wasn't sure what they were having, but in a very short time McCormick had the kitchen smelling of something that was sure to beat anything he'd have fixed. "Say, McCormick, what time are we leaving today?"
"Leaving?" Mark asked. "Today?"
Hardcastle looked up unsure whether to believe that Mark really didn't know what he was talking about. The Judge decided a little review was in order. "Mark, what day did you take your test?"
"Tuesday," Mark replied.
"What day is today?" he asked.
Mark said, "Thursday."
Rolling his eyes at Mark, "McCormick, do you remember getting a phone call the other night while you were drinking by the pool?"
Stirring whatever was in the skillet, Mark thought. He was really trying to think anyway. Finally he answered, "Vaguely."
"Do you remember who it was that called?" Hardcastle asked.
Mark shook his head, trying to shake what was left of the cobwebs loose. "Female. ... Someone I knew, ... called about the Bar."
"McCormick for crying out loud! It was still early then. You were barely slurring. Is that all you can remember?" the Judge asked loudly and in disbelief.
"At the moment, I'm afraid so. Now where are we going? And who called?" Mark asked with a bit of a whine in his voice. He was hoping to get caught up on somethings he'd let go around the estate while studying the summer away.
Hardcastle spoke very slowly hoping McCormick would process the information, "You said, ... the call, ... was from Barbara."
Mark looked puzzled.
"John – son," Hardcastle added.
"Oh, yeah! Okay, I do remember. She called to ask how the test went. I had called her the night she took her bar exam several years ago. She was returning the favor." Mark had indeed remembered that much now!
"And?" Hardcastle asked.
"You just won't give me a break here, will you?" Mark said, rubbing his face while trying to think. "Something about a new car? That's it! She was telling me she had another one of Flip's designs ready to test!" he said excitedly.
"So when are we leaving?" Hardcastle asked.
"Leaving?" Mark asked puzzled again. "Today?" he paused, "Today is Thursday! Shit!" He said beginning to hurry around the kitchen. "You do know I have a million things to do. I've got to find my clothes. Forget I said that. Get my clothes together. I've got to get my helmet and racing suit. Oh, man my tools aren't ready!" Thinking to himself, he added, 'And after last time, my other tools are going too.' Mark then continued. "I have to get out the Coyote's books. Wait. Why are you going?"
"You insisted the other night. You said you needed me to come along to make sure she doesn't convince you to steal any more cars," the judge said, acting innocent.
Mark replied, "Oh, I guess I did have a point." He set the skillet down on a towel on the bar, grabbed two pieces of bread, and covered one with the contents of the skillet. "Here. Enjoy. I've got to run," he said heading toward the door.
"What is this McCormick?" Hardcastle asked.
"It started out being an omelet," he said with his mouth full as the door closed behind him.
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I have heard that if you get really drunk that you don't want to EVER drink cold water first thing the next day or you will get drunk all over again. Thankfully, I wouldn't know, but that's the basis for the above, whether it's true or not it made for a bad day for Mark.This information came from the youthful experts -– the group of teens ---mine and their friends – that claim my house as home. Though it may not be true, I felt it would be funny if it did happen to Mark.
Please review...Thanks