Father's Day
by
Rowena Warner
Hardcastle stretched and yawned, his nose wrinkling appreciatively as the faint smell of bacon tickled his nostrils. The clock on his nightstand revealed that it was only 6:20 a. m., and his eyes widened in surprise. "Either McCormick's got another screw loose, or some stranger's cookin' up breakfast in my kitchen, 11 he growled, throwing back the covers.
Within minutes he entered the kitchen, his slippers slapping softly a gainst the tile floor.
McCormick whirled around, an egg in each hand nd a guilty look spreading across his youthful features. "Judge! 11 he exclaimed. "What're you doing_up?" •
"I might ask you the same quest/ion, 11 Hardcastle barked suspiciously.
Tying his robe around him, he checked the meat sizzling on the stove. "Bacon's getting too done," he pointed out. "And what the hell're you do ing up cookin' this time of morning, especially on a Sunday? I thought
you were up late last night studying."
"I was, but I, uh, I just wanted to get up and fix breakfast," McCor mick answered evasively.
"For both of us, I assume?" , noting how many eggs McCormick was breaking into a bo I.
"Of course, for both of us," McCormick retorted, whipping the eggs with more energy than the judge had seen him display in some time.
Studying the young man a moment, Hardcastle dropped into a chair and sighed. "Whatever it is, the answer is no."
Still devoting his energies to the eggs, McCormick glanced up. "What do you mean, the answer's no? I haven't even asked you anything. 11
"No, but you're going to," Hardcastle grumbled, "and if you've gotta get up at six o'clock on a Sunday morning and fix me breakfast, then it's bound to be something I'm not gonna like, so b fore you ask, the answer's no," he repeated firmly. "And I think those eggs are already dead, Mc Cormick," he added with a grin. "You don't have to commit first degree homicide on 'em."
Looking sheepish, McCormick poured the yellow mixture into a skillet, then without raising his head, spoke softly, "You're wrong, ya know. 11
"About· what ?11
"About me wanting somethin' .11 He reached over to turn the bacon.
"I just wanted to fix breakfast for us this morning, that's all. 11
Hardcastle was still doubtful. "Why ?11 he demanded.
"Why not?" McCor-mick turned to the refrigerator. "You want some orange juice?"
"Yeah, 11 Hardcastle growled and leaned back looking as if a lightbulb
had just come on in his brain. 111 know what you're doing," he accused. "You're trying to make me feel guilty because I yelled at you yesterday .11
McCormick snorted. 11 Judge, you yell at me every day. Yesterday
wasn't any different. 11
Hardcastle remained silent, and glancing his way, McCormick saw a strange look on the craggy features. "Hey, Judge, I didn't mean anything by that," he assured hastily. "You yelrat me, I yell at you. That's the way it is with us. It's when you don't yell at me that I get worried, 11 he added with a grin.
"They why're you fixing breakfast ?11 Hardcastle persisted.
Laying the bacon on a piece of paper towel to drain, McCormick sighed. "Judge, anybody ever tell ya you got a one-track mind?"
"Yeah, lots of people, 11 Hardcastle shot back,· "but that doesn't answer my question. 11
"I fixed you breakfast because I wanted to fix you breakfast, 11 McCor
mick answered, his tone one of patience, and set a plate filled with food in front of the judge. "Satisfied ?11
"Not until I taste the eggs, 11 Hardcastle grinned. Taking a bite, he chewed slowly and nodded. "Not bad, kid. I may make a cook outta you yet."
"Forget it, 11 McCormick retorted and tried a sample from his own plate.
He took two more bites, then jumped to his feet, a nervous energy seeming to emanate from him. "Be right back," he promised and headed for the den.
"Where ya goin' ?" Hardcastle called after him. "Get back here and eat your breakfast!"
"Just a minute!"
McCormick returned in less time than that, carrying a large box deco rated with masculine wrapping paper, ribbon, and bow. Offering it to Hard castle, he stammered, "I, uh, I bought you something."
Wiping his mouth with a napkin, Hardcastle accepted the present with a grin. 11Well, well, what's this?"
Returning to his chair, McCormick demanded excitedly, "Open it and find out." .
Turning the package in his hands, Hardcastle studied the semi-neatly folded corners and· the ribbon which had been cut just a fraction of an inch too short. "You wrap this yourself?"
"Yeah. 11 McCormick nodded. "Last night in the gatehouse. 11
Hardcastle looked at him in surprise. "Thought you always had the stores do this kinda stuff."
"I do, but ... this was ... different,11 McCormick answered, then confessed wryly, "Took me over half an hour and three sheets of wrapping paper .11
He shook the box. "I don't hear anything."
11That1s 'cause it doesn't rattle. C'mon, open it,11 McCormick urged, reaching across the table. "Here, let me help."
Hardcastle jerked the box back out of his ·reach. "Get your hands off my present, 11 he growled. "What the hell's wrong with you? Think I'm gettin' too old and weak to unwrap a package by myself?" With a snort, he
ripped the paper off with a flourish, the ribbon and bow departing with it, revealing a non-descript box which gave no hint as to what lurked inside. A thought suddenly occurred to Hardcastle, and he glanced up sharply. "This isn't some kind of joke, is it? When I open this box, is a bunch of snakes gonna jump out at me?"
McCormick shook his head, blue eyes twinkling. "I promise you, Judge, it's not a joke."
Hardcastle eyed him doubtfully, but proceeded to remove the lid and fold back the tissue paper. "Aw, now, that's nice, 11 he smiled. "A blue wind breaker. That'll really come in handy in the mornings. 11
"Hold it up, 11 McCormick urged.
He did so and nodded. "Yep, looks like it's the right size." "Turn it around .11
Throwing McCormick a puzzled look, the judge did as instructed, his eyes widening in surprise. A large, snow-white horse, mane flowing as it reared, front hooves seeming to reach for the inscription Hi-O Silver! embla zoned overhead, had been embroidered on the back in meticulous detail. "Hey, this is great! 11 he exclaimed, grinning broadly. "This is really great, McCormick! 11
11l1m glad you like it. 11 McCormick smiled shyly.
Hardcastle lowered the windbreaker so he could see the young man's
face. "This must've cost you a bundle1 kid.11
"Well ... no, it wasn't tha.t bad," McCormkk hedged. "I found a little old lady downtown who loves to do that kind of stuff .11 He rose quickly to his feet. 11C1mon, Judge, stand up and try it on."
Hardcastle did so and looked over his shoulder with a grin. "Well?" "Go look in the hall mirror, 11 McCormick replied and followed him, smil
ing as the judge preened, flexing his broad shoulder muscles so it appeared the horse was moving.
"This is really great, kid, 11 Hardcastle repeated, still looking at his back in the mirror. "But why'd you do it? This isn't my birthday, and it sure as hell isn't Christmas."
When there was no answer, he glanced at his young friend's reflection in the mirror, then turned to face him. "Well ?11 he asked in a curiously soft tone.
"There, uh, there's somethin' else that goes with it, 11 .McCormick mum bled and held out an envelope.
Taking it slowly, Hardcastle hooked a finger beneath the seal and tore it open, then removed the card inside. "'Happy Father's Day to Someone Special, 111 he read aloud, his eyebrows arching. "Well, I'II be damned, 11 he breathed softly, and opening the card, continued to read, almost to himself:
11 I know I don't say 'thank you• nearly as often as I should,
And I know I don't do my chores the best that I really could.
And just because I mouth off a lot and sometimes cause a hassle·,
Doesn't mean I don't like living here, just me and Judge Hardcastle."
Raising his head, he eyed McCormick intently for a moment, then asked,
"You wrote this yourself?"
"Yeah." McCormick averted his gaze. "It, uh, it took me over an hour at o e of those qJmputers they have in the card stores. 1-1 know it doesn1t sound too good, but ... "
"No, no, I like it," Hardcastle assured him. "It's just that I, uh, well, don't know what to say, kid. 11
"You're not angry, are you?" McCormick asked anxiously. "Angry? Why the hell would I be angry?" he demanded.
McCormick didn't answer, and looking down at the card again Hardcastle ventured, "Mark, can I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
He lifted his gaze to lock with McCormick's. l'Did you '·send your dad a card?"
11 I, uh, I don't know where he's at right now. 11 McCormick looked away
quickly.
"If you did, would you've sent 'im one?" Hardcastle pressed.
"I'm not sure," McCormick replied flatly, then amended, "No, I don't think so. Maybe later, but not now." His gaze returned to Hardcastle's. "Does that mean I'm a terrible person, Judge?"
Hardcastle broke into a grin. "You won't hear me saying that, not to
the kid who just gave me a one-of-a-kind Father's Day card and a windbreaker with 'Hi-O Silver' on it." He slapped McCormick on the back, then slung an arm around his shoulders. "C'mon, let's go to a ballgame. I'll buy ya a hot dog and one of those big banners you can hang in your room .11
an essay written by Judge Milton C. Hardcastle, Retired uncovered & submitted by Rowena Warner
Thanks to the kid, I've gotten into this habit of writing stupid little essays whenever I've got something on my mind. This time, though, I'm beating him to the punch. Instead of answering one of h_is "walks through the woods", I'm blazing the trail myself. Now, don't get me wrong, I1m not the type to sit around talking to a pen and paper. I prefer people, but in this case, the "people" I'd really like this over with is the one per son I can't talk to right now.
We just got back from Atlantic City early this morning, and the kid's out in the gatehouse, claiming he's tired and needs some rest. But I'm not buying it. / think he's got a few tears inside he wants to get rid of in pri vate.
That's okqy. • He needs some time alone, and so do I, because I tell you, right now I've got a lot of mixed emotions about this whole East Coast deal. For one thing, I'm madder than hell at Sonny. I've never wanted to deliberately hurt anyone in my entire life, but when he sat there in that ho tel room, with Mark in the hands of those goons who'd just as soon kill the kid as look at him, and said, "If I'd wanted to see him, I would've put an ad in the newspaper", I could've punched his I ights out. Almost did.
I don't believe that jackass! He's got a perfectly good son, a decent kid who, sure, got into a little trouble, but he got his life straightened out, no thanks to his dad, and what does Sonny say? "Some people just should never have kids."
The damned fool! I went through hell when I lost my own son, and this man just gives his up, turns his back and walks out on the boy like he did 25 years ago! Didn't even have the decency to tell him face to face that he was leaving. The creep didn't give a damn how Mark felt. The kid's not stupid; you don't have to hit him over the head for him to understand his dad's not real thrilled about having an offspring. How's he supposed to feel, knowing that his own father would've been happy if he'd never been born?
- Usually, I'm atisfied with life, but there are imes when it seems
pretty damned unfair. Why couldn't my son have lived, or why didn't Sonny have a kid who didn't give a damn how his father felt about him? It would've saved Mark and me both a lot of pain. To quote Sonny's favorite saying, though-"That's life." _Damn it, I n_ever did I ike that song. .
I'm not bragging and I'm not saying that I make a good substitute, but I was glad I was there last night when Mark read that note from his 'dear old dad'. I just wish Sonny'd been there, too, because that look on the kid's face would've melted a snowball in the Arctic. It sure as hell did something to me. Guess that's why I've been feeling so guilty.
When McCormick stood gazing up at that marquee and was giving his dad all the credit for breaking into that Federal building, I admit, I was pret ty damned hurt. I almost told him the truth, but then I thought, what right have I got to burst the kid's balloon? '•
But then, when he read that note, God forgive me, I started grinning. The boy is standing there, all his illusions about his father suddenly flushed down the toilet, and I'm heaving a sigh of relief. I couldn't help it. He thought his dad had done this great thing just to save him, and if I didn't
set him straight on it, Sonny sure as hell wouldn't have. I could already feel a gap widening between Mark and me. Like he said, "We're talking a bout blood", and right then I was certain he was gonna move back to Jersey to be with his father. Oh sure, he probably would've stayed in contact with
me for awhile, but there's a helluva lot of miles between LA and Atlantic City, and a young man like McCormick is bound to find new friends, new interests.
So that's why I broke into a grin when I found out Sonny had left. Right
then I was feeling really good, but I realized on the flight back that I would've done anything, and I mean anything, to have kept that kid from being hurt.
I think Mark must've realized a few things, too. He wanted to get out of Atlantic City as soon as possible, so we caught the red-eye home. He sat there beside me all night, looking like a lost Bassett hound, never uttering a word until the plane landed and was taxiing across the runway. Then he turned to me and said, "You know, Judge, you're one in a million. 11 I think he finally figured out the break-in wasn't exactly his dad's idea.
Well, I've gotten all this out of my system now, so I think I'm going to go to the gatehouse and drag McCormick out of bed and make him play a game of basketball. Do him good. I'm going to show him that, if / have anything to say about it, there's at least one· person in this world who's not going to trade him in for a free meal and a bigger sign out front.
Mark's a good kid, a damned good kid.
H
an essay written by Mark 11Skid11 McCormick
uncovered & submitted by Lizabeth S. Tucker
Well, well, well. I must've had a good idea if the judge is doing this stuff now. I only started writing these things 'cause it was a form of ther apy reco!llmef!ded when I was in prison. Channel your hate and aggression. and pain to paper rather than letting it out to other prisoners and guards. It's a lot safer, for both sides. I know Hardcase didn't want me to find this one, it was well hidden in his desk. And I probably never would've if he hadn't gone away for the weekend and called me for some information. It was stashed in the same place. Guess he forgot. Or maybe the ol' marsh mallow wanted me to find it, but wouldn't come right out and tell me about
it. He puts up this steel, John Wayne exterior, but I've learned better; it's all a big sham. He cares, sometimes too deeply. But that's another subject. We're talking about my "father" now. .
Yeah, I put quotes around it: That man may be my biological father, but he's never done any of the things that a real father does. He wasn't there when I needed him, but it was by his choice. Okay, fine. I looked him up, gave him a chance to explain. What did I get? Rejection. Some thing I'm getting used to.
I still don't understand why the judge let me drag him clear to Atlan tic City without an explanation. There aren't lots of people who would do that, not even friends. Three thousand miles on a whim? That's a bit much for anyone to swallow. Especially when Hardcase was footing the bill, as usual. I needed him there, and I think-1 hope, he realized that.
My feelings for Hardcastle never waned, despite the search for my dad. I didn't mean to hurt him when I said "blood is blood", but somehow thought it was important to find Sonny.
It took seeing the loser I had for a dad to make me appreciate just how special Hardcastle was to me, how much he filled that void in my life that wanted a father figure. Flip didn't make it, he was too close to my own age in attitude. I had just about give1n up with my 11father fixation" when Hardcastle roared into ITiy life. I didn' it, but now I'm glad we me .
A two-year jail term and Flip's death was a rough way to get introduced, but meeting Hardcastle was the best thing that ever happened in my stupid, stinking life.
Yeah, I cried that night. 8 itter tecirs for the l;ss of a dream that I
had sheltered in my heart since I was five years old-that I would find my dad, discover his leaving was a mistake, and that he'd welcome me with open arms. A kid's fantasy dies hard when it's been nurtured for all those years. It hurt. Bad. So did the truth of my rescue.
Yeah, I knew, even while I was outside that club spouting off about my "dad's" name being up in lights. I was trying to get at the truth, but Hardcastle was closemouthed about it, the cops wouldn't tell me squat, and I knew Sonny, if I talked to him, would play the hero for his adoring son. Ha, some adoration!
Hardcastle once said I was a good judge of character, and so I am. knew the minute I met Sonny he was no good, but what your instincts tell you and what you want to believe are two different things.
Oh, Hardcase, you're so tough. Didn't you know that my dad, even if he had been the kind of man I was hunting for, wouldn't have broken us up? Even if you ignore the parole thing, my dad and I hadn't seen each other for 25 years. We might've become friendly, still might, but it would never be the same as what we've built up over the months.
Yeah, I hurt when that letter was handed to me. It was the final act. There were no more illusions left to me, no more hopes about a fairytale end ing. I wish ... hell, I don't know what I wish, but I was hurt by the judge's obvious sigh of relief at Sonny's leaving. I understand it, but it doesn't mean that the jealousy, the pettiness that I thought I saw in his face didn't disappoint me.
Then I thought about how I'd feel if the judge's son was suddenly back to life, back in Hardcastle's life, living in the gatehouse ... and I under stood.
It took a lot of work, a bit of charm, and a hell of a lot of my own money to get the truth of what happened after I was snatched, part of the story coming from a secretary in the Federal building and some from dear ol' dad, when he hit me up for a loan (something the judge doesn't know about), but it thawed the last frozen part of my heart. I did find my dad that week end. I've been living with him all along. I'm really home. Just a shame it took this to wake me up. I never wanted Hardcastle hurt, not since the
first night I found him watching me like a mother hen just before I went un dercover. I never thought the feeling was mutual.
Still and all, though, Hardcastle was wrong about two things. One, I'm not that good a kid, though I'm getting there. And second, the late night basketball game didn't do me any good. I think I broke some ribs on that last jumpshot.
Home. It sure sounds great. Even if Hardcase throws me out some day, I'll have a few good memories to take with me. That's more than I've had most of my life. Yeah, home. Has a nice ring to it.
H
written by Rowena Warner
"Do you remember my girlfriend, Vonna Westerlake?11
"Who could forget Vonna Westerlake? Naked all the time, skinny-dip ping in the pool. I don't think she had any clothes, did she?11
"Well, she was part of my adolescent dating experience-she was what you called a 'free spirit'. 11
"Dumb. Dumb as a box of rocks."
11Yeah, but she had a certified A-plus centerfold body. And you kept telling her to put her clothes on; something I wi11 never forgive you for ... 11*
"Put your clothes on!" Hardcastle yelled for the fifth time. "For Pete's sake, young lady, didn't your mother ever tell you you're not sup posed to run around like that except in a bathroom behind a tocked door! 11
uoh, Judge, you're so funny," Vonna replied, supporting her state ment with a high-pitched laugh that grated like sandpaper on Hardcast1e's nerves.
"McCormick!" he roared, then gestured to Vonna. "Excuse me a min ute. Go jump In the pool and stay under for about thirty minutes." At the blank look on her face, he changed his order immediately, fearful that the young woman would suddenly decide to obey him. "No, don't do that, 11 'he amended. "Just, uh, just sit down somewhere and quit Jiggling around.
McCormick!"
"I heard you the first time," McCormick answered over the judge's shoulder. "You don't hafta bust my eardrums."
Hardcastle turned on him angrity. "If you heard me the first time, why the hell didn't you answer?"
"Because I was busy admiring the scenery." McCormick grinned and leaned around Hardcastle, his eyes caressing the body posed provocatively· in front of him. "Boy, Judge, just took at those mountains."
"McCormick! I' Grabbing his arm, Hardcastle started dragging hiryi
"The Career Breaker" - aired episode
toward the gatehouse, yelling over his shoulder. 11Get your clothes on! You're gonna wind up causing the kid to have a heart attack! 11
11Yeah, but what a way to go.11 McCormick sighed dreamily and, clutching his heart in faked pain, allowed his legs to buckle.
Still gripping IVcCormick1s arm, Hardcastle reached out with his other hand to support the younger man. Maintaining his hold, he gave his friend a shake. "Stand up there before I have you committed to an asylum for the sexually insane!••··
"Hey, I'm just a red-blooded American boy, 11 McCormick protested.
11Hardcase, if there's a deviate around here, it's you. Don't you appreciate beauty?"
11Sure I do, 11 he shot back, 11but part of beauty is leaving something to the imagination. That girl certainly doesn't. Now, I want you to make
her put some clothes on,11 he ordered. 11The guy's supposed to come to clean the pool today, and I'm expecting a special delivery from the postman. If they see her like that, they111be telling the whole neighborhood that I've got some kind of orgy goin1 on here.11
McCormick broke into a grin, his blue eyes twinkling devilishly.
11The Honorable Judge Milton C. Hardcastle keeping time with Lady Godiva. 11
He punched Hardcastle lightly on"the arm. "I knew you had it in ya, Judge. 11
11What I've got is a helluva lot of irritation directed at a certain kid who's being a wise-guy, and whose butt is gonna be mud if he doesnit do what I tell him to-NOW ! 11 Hardcastle roared.
McCormick jumped. "You got it, Judge. Whatever you say. Consider it done.11
11Now, I'm gonna go take a shower and get ready for my date with Judge Wellis tonight, 11 Hardca-stle continued in a fa-irly calm voice, "and when I get through, I'd better not see any bare skin around here. If I do, l1lt
end up being arrested for aggravated assault, and guess whose ass that assault1ll be on?11
McCormick's eyes widened. "Uh, don't worry, Judge, 1111 take care of it, 11 he promised and took off after Vanna, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Hardcastle wasn't following.
Finding the young lady sitting on the edge of the pool, her bare legs dangling in the water, he moved up behind her and cleared his throat. 11Uh, Vanna, we gotta talk. 11 .
Rising gracefully, she pressed her body to his. 11Sure, Markie-poo.
What would you like to talk about?"
11That, uh, that name, for one thing," he stammered, finding it diffi cult to breathe. "Could you ... could you not call me that in front of Hard castle?11
11Why not?11 she asked sweetly. "I call him Judgee-poo. 11
Horror stricken, McCormick gaped at her. "You don't? You do? You
do! Oh, Lord!"
"Aw, what's the matter, Markie-poo?" Slender fingers caressed his temples, then slipped into his curfs. "Ooh, I just love your hair.," she cooed. "It's like spun gold.11 Her fingers combed through it gently, and McCormick closed his eyes.
Having brushed his hair back, Vanna's fingers went to his mouth. 11 I love your lips, too," she whispered., and her hands moved downward, "-and your shoulders, and your chest, and-11
McCormick is eyes f1ew open, and he grabbed her wrists. "-Uh,
Vonna-no! D-don•t do that! 11
"Why not ?11 she pouted.
11 B-:because we ... wei re out in the open and all,n he finally managed and pulled back. "I, uh, I need to talk to you about putting somethin1 on."
Her face brightened. "Sure. What song do you want to hear?"
He blinked in puzzlement, then smi1ed. 11No, no, I don;t mean put a record on the stereo. You·, uh, you gotta put some clothes on your ... body."
"Aw, don1t make me, Markie-poo.11 Curling an arm,1around his neck, she pulled him close, her lips just inches from his. "I donit like clothes," she complained softly. 110ne should be able to express one's emotions and inner feelings, not only with the face, but with alt parts of the body.11
"Oh, you're expressirtg,·all right, 11 McCormick grinned, then caught himself. "Uh, no, you gotta put your clothes on. You see, Hardcase ·owns this place, and ... and he tells me what to do, and he told me to tell you to put your clothes on, and if you don't do what I told you that he told me to tell you to do, then he's gonna tell me something else that I'm not gonna wanna hear, so-" He sucked in his breath. 11-please, pf ease, please, put your clothes on. 11 •
110h, all right, 11 she agreed reluctantly. "i 'II have to go get them. 11
Nodding in relief, McCormick watched as she headed for the main house. His eyes widened suddenly and chasing after the buxom blonde, he started to grab her arm, but let his own drop to his side. "Vanna, the, uh, the gatehouse is over there. II He _pointed.
111 know," she smiled.
"Then why are you heading this way?"
"To put my clothes on, 11 she replied in an exasperated tone. 11 I can't very well put them on until I get them, now can 1?11
McCormick swallowed hard. 11Vonna, just where, .. where did you leave your clothes when you took 1em off]"
She stared at him in surprise. "Judge Hardcastle's bedroom, of course."
"Of course? Of course?!" McCormick was on the verge of panic. "Vanna, see that house? It's a big house, a very big house. It has lots of rooms in it. Then therets the gatehouse, smaller, but stil-1 a nice siie. We even have the gardener's trailer." A note of hysteria crept into his voice. "With that much room, why, Vanna? .Why did you have to undress in the judge1s bedroom?"
She slapped him on the shoulder lightly. 0Because that was the most private place, silly.11
"Private! 11 McCormick gaped at her. "Vanna, you-look at you! mean ... all afternoon, everywhere, without your . .'.without anything .. ,and youire ... you're talking about privacy?!"
Vanna straightened with a frown. 11Mark McCormick, I refuse to un dress in public! What kind of girl do you think I am, anyway?"
,; I ... I ... 11 He had no answer, and Vanna whirled around, flotmcing into the house.
Staring at the closed door, McCormick tried to figure out just where he'd gotten lost in the conversation. Suddenly, as if some giant hand had pushed him from behind, he lunged for the door in wide-eyed terror. "The judge! He's taking a shower! 11
Vanna was nowhere to be seen, and bounding up the stairs two at a time, McCormick came to a grinding halt outside Hardcastle1s bedroom., his heart sinking when he heard-
"Judge! Oh, my, what wonderful muscles!n
"McCormick! 11
Turning, he started back down the stairs dejectedly. ,;_That's it, I'm dead,H he mumbled. "Might as well call it quits. Look up a florist in the phone book and order a spray of flowers. Carnations would be nice. I wonder what they call those long things on stems? Get one of those banners across it-R. I. P. McCormick. Lord, I can see it on my tombstone now-
1From this spot Mark McCormick will never budge; Done in by a woman and a crazy ofi judge'."
He was sitting on the bottom step, his chin in his hands, a perfect picture of hopelessness; when Vonna came bouncing down the stairs with a smile. "Okay, I'm dressed. What do we do now?"
He jumped to his feet. "You gotta go home! 11 Grabbing her arm, he led Vanna to her car. "The judge is gonna kill me when he comes downstairs. If you're not here, maybe he111be satisfied with just mutilating me for life."
Vonna caressed his cheek with a slender finger. "Markie-poo, don1t worry about the judge. Oooh, he has the most delicious muscles." She shiv ered in delight. "I promise you, I can take care o.f him. I can take care of both of you. ;r
McCormick stepped back in shock. "Uh, whoa·, wait a minute! If you wanna choose the judge over me, I can handle it. 1111 probably kill myself, but I can handle it. But you, me, and Hardcase? Unh-uh, no how, no way. You gotta go, Vonna. You gotta go now! 11
Her lower lip protruded in a pout. 11Wel1, if that's what you want. 11
"I want! I want!" He helped her into the car, then slammed the door. "Go, good-bye, adios., sayonara., vamoose! 11
Her car was clearing the gates when Hardcastle opened the front door. "McCormick!''
"She's gone, Judge, 0 McCormick shot in quickly. 0 I sent her on her
way.;;
Hardcastle turned a look of surprise on him. "Well, you didn;t have to
chase her off, kid. I just wanted her to put her clothes on."
McCormick stared at him. "But you and her... Upstairs ... " His face turned fiery red. "She, uh, she said she could ... take care of both of us."
Hardcastle frowned. "What do you mean ttake care oft?"
McCormick leaned close to whisper, "Judge, I'm talking about tak
care of, you know, as in 'fulfill our needs1• 11
Hardcastle drew ba k. "You're kidding! 11 He gazed down the Jong drive, then started toward the garage. 11Wonder if we can catch up with her in the truck, or should we take the Coyote ?11 •
11Juuudge! ! ! "