I updated Wild Bill Chance on what I’d gleaned from Norma Truman, and in his reply, he said he wanted to talk rather than share any more information online. I told him to call when it worked for him as my time was much more flexible than his.
He called five minutes later and started the conversation, “We’re not using names on this call, right?”
His tone was conversational but the meaning was clear, he doubted the security of the conversation.
“You been making friends and influencing people again lately?”
“I blame you, but you know how I am...”
I knew from my experience with him during that Missouri episode just how he was: Cautious, capable, and reliable. I figured something or someone had gotten his wind up a bit, and that meant we needed to be careful.
“Whatcha have?”
“Your friends from back then have been real busy later in life, and the two from the deep south have come to the attention of your uncle. He has actually met with them from time to time, asking their advice on how to handle friends of theirs.”
My mind was spinning trying to decipher his code, “I hope they did themselves proud where my uncle is concerned.”
“Jury’s pretty much still out on that, as far as I can tell. I asked your uncle a question a couple of weeks ago, and he was curious enough as to why that he’s sent a couple of your cousins around to speak with me and my folks, asking interesting questions.”
“A history tour?”
“Nope, more like current events or at least recent history.”
“Should I expect a visit from the cousins?”
“No reason for that, I wouldn’t think. Your name never came up, at least with me.”
“So what have those two Rebels been up to?”
“They both cashed out after 20, hale and hearty fellas. The Brick Layer opened his own store and is now retired on a boat in the Keys. The Flower Child went off to college and then law school. Practiced his profession with a firm up your way in Idaho. Pretty well-connected to some of the Bright Boys who have been making noise recently over immigration and stuff. He’s apparently retired, too; but your uncle is keen on keeping tabs on him...”
I changed the subject, “What’s new with you? You thinking about retirement?”
“Mandatory in another year, but I’m still walking every day and feeling younger than my years. You?”
“I just become curiouser and curiouser, but otherwise I’m feeling pretty good, too.”
“Well, maybe you and that lovely bride of yours can come down for some decent barbecue one of these days...”
“Maybe you should take a break and come have a tussle with some wild brook trout up here?”
“Don’t count me out, I’ve some vacation time to burn up this summer. I’ll be touch, and if you need me, just holler, y’all hear?”
We disconnected at the same moment. I pondered the call for five minutes and then went looking for Jan.
“What do you mean he spoke in code? You two have a code?” Jan was mocking me, and I let her go on, “I have always wanted to be in a club that had its own vocabulary and could talk like pig-Latin and not be understood by outsiders, and, to think, you had that all the time and I never knew...”
I didn’t respond and after a few seconds she sobered up, “Jim?”
“He called Gardner the Flower Child; he called Mason the Brick Layer. He made a call about records to an old friend who must have reported/mentioned it, and the Feds paid a visit to Bill and wanted to know why.”
“Oh! That’s not much of a code, but it raises some immediate questions. Are we going to receive a visit from the Feds this week?”
“Perhaps; time will tell.”
“So, what do you think the rest of that message meant?”
“I’m not sure, but I thought “Bright Boys” making noise about immigration could be a reference to Breitbart News which appears to be pretty much an organ of the Alt Right which seems like pretty much an extension of Aryan Nations which is pretty much the White supremacist movement in this country that many believe is headquartered in Idaho...”
I let that thought settle for a moment, and then Jan’s head snapped around to stare at me, “You mean... Here in Eastern Oregon?”
“I mean ‘who knows’ but that’s what I gathered from Bill’s message. I won’t know until his letter arrives.”
“He said he was going to write you a letter?” Jan asked incredulously as I shook my head. “Who writes letters anymore?” Then, with a quick pause, “Of course. That’s what you’d do in his place, right?”
“Far as I know the U.S. mail is still secure, but I’ll bet he mails it to someone else before that person sends it to me.”
“You guys are spooky, you know it?”
“You’ve never minded before.”
She headed for the stairs and bed, but over her shoulder she gave me that nasty smile she could wield like a club, “Spooks have their time and place, Stanton. You do know what time it is, don’t you?”
I watched her disappear up the stairs and thought for just a second, then hurried to give Judy a quick pee while I buttoned up the house. Even an old spook knows his place.