He had asked me to have lunch with him at the house. It was one of his good days and his spirits were high. The housekeeper had prepared sandwiches for us and we had settled in to eat them on the back porch.
The midday temperatures were in the low seventies. Feathery white clouds appeared and were quickly chased away by the insistent Diablo winds. A trio of young squirrels set up some kind of racket as they chased each other up and down the nearby trees. The air smelled of freshly cut wood.
I cracked a couple of Carta Blancas and had downed nearly half of mine before the Sheriff took his first sip. “You’re an enigma,” the old man said.
“You think?”
“It’s what the press thinks.”
“The less they know about me, the better.”
“The less they know, the more they’ll want to know.”
I smiled.
“What will happen to her?” the old man asked.
“Julia Peterson?”
“Yes.”
“It won’t go down easy.”
“You think?”
“She led the charge, so to speak. She also aided and abetted. The prosecution will hang her out to dry.”
“Murray Kornbluth?”
“Not tough enough. She has to hope some woman’s cause will take up her cudgel and provide her with a firebrand who can argue she was as much a victim as the others.”
“And?”
“It won’t go down easy.”
We both picked at our sandwiches. I finished my beer and opened another. I took heart in the fact that the old man was today more like himself. Although I knew hope was ephemeral, it had injected itself into our mutual consciousness.
“People will take greater notice of you now,” he said.
“I don’t much care about that.”
“Your reputation will be enhanced, nonetheless. The town fathers will be more inclined to elevate you when the time comes.”
“We’ll deal with that when we have to.”
“Don’t act like an innocent, Buddy. You play your cards right, the greater your chances of achieving statewide consideration.”
“Meaning?”
“The Governor isn’t going to live forever.”
“The Governor? Have you gone daft? You’re thinking I might have an interest in becoming Governor?”
“You’re a rising star, Buddy. And as I said, an enigma. Once you arouse people’s curiosity, the sky’s the limit. Especially in California. Home of George Murphy and Ronald Reagan. Media stars who cashed in big-time.
“Based on the attention you’re receiving, you stand as much chance of becoming a media phenomenon as any politician in the state. You’re a Sheriff. You’re legitimate. The proud bearer of the Law and Order standard. Excellent credentials in these troubled times. You mark my words.”
“You’ve gone loco in your cabeza. Besides, I have zero interest in politics. I’m just a lowly police officer doing his job. And doing it, lest we forget, in tribute to my father.”
“Whatever,” the old man said.
We ate in silence for a while.
“I was driven around town the other day,” he added. “I didn’t see any graffiti.”
“It’s gone. And the perpetrators with it.”
“That’s good work, Buddy.”
“Helena Madison gets the credit. She put one over on the town council and as a result of her instituting some seriously stiff penalties, the vandals came to realize it was time to get out of Dodge.”
“I rest my case,” the old man said.
We finished our lunch. The table was cleared and my father fired up a Cuban cigar and puffed it into full flame.
I waved the smoke away. “That’s some kind of stinker.”
“Live with it.”
“It’ll ruin your health.”
“It’s already ruined.”
“I’m seeing an awful lot of good days mixed in with the bad.”
“They don’t mean shit. I’m still a goner.”
“I’m thinking you’ll be around for a while.”
“We’ll see.”
I watched as his wheels began to grind. I could see what was coming from a mile away and dreaded it.
“We have a deal,” he said.
“Don’t start.”
“I’m serious.”
“Why don’t we just abide the events, okay?”
“Get your head out of your ass, Buddy. We can abide the events for as long as they’re abideable. Once they’re not, we have a deal.”
I looked at him.
He looked back at me, hard eyed. “Right?”
I stared at him.
“Say it.”
“Right,” I muttered.
“Say it like you mean it.”
I remained silent.