My Sweet Petunia Chapter 4: Tom Junior

“Mornin’ Ralph.”

“Mornin’ Sam. Sam, I said a lot of things last night I shouldn’t have said. I feel real bad about it. It wasn’t right, and I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“No Ralph, everything you said last night was right. You gave me my comeuppance, and I rightly deserved it.”

“Sam, you look like you’re gonna cry.”

“I’ve been crying since the minute you left. I love you Ralph. I love you dearly, as if you were my own flesh and blood, and I ain’t saying that as some washed up, wanna be father.”

“I love you too Sam. I really do. Now, let’s get them sheep. What time we meeting Tom Junior on Thursday?”

“Ain’t decided yet.”

“What do you mean you ain’t decided yet!? What are you waiting for, the Canadian crows to fly south for the winter? Goddamnit Sam! Can’t butter up Tom Junior ’till we know when we’re meeting him!”

“Maybe I already buttered him up on the side.”

“Why you gotta do it on the side?”

“Because you don’t know him like I do. You can’t go talk to him like I can.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know him a little. You don’t.”

“What do you mean you know him? What are you, friends with Tom Junior Sam?”

“For God’s sake, no Ralph! We ain’t no friends. I just know him a little, that’s all. I’ve been working on the farm a long time. You can’t help but talk with people.”

“I see. So what do you two love birds talk about?”

“Jesus Ralph, stop it! You’re acting like we’re in cahoots or something.”

“Well, are you?”

“No!!! I just told Tom Junior that he was a good little boy, and that we’d like to take him out for drinks. Said we’d come up with a time later.”

“It’s getting later all the time Sam.” “Alright, I’ll go talk with him now.”

*****

“Eight o’clock. He said he’d meet us Thursday night at eight o’clock.”

“Where?”

“Jude’s Tavern. Let’s get there a little early to plot strategy, say 7:30.”

“Alright, 7:30 then.”

*****

“Well, you made it here old boy, right on time, 7:30.”

“I ain’t feeling so good about this Sam.”

“Why not?”

“It still bothers me you didn’t set this up a little more beforehand. Why’d you have to wait so long to see when Tom Junior wanna meet?”

“Don’t call him Tom Junior. He don’t like it.”

“Since when you care what Tom Junior likes?”

“I don’t. I just mean don’t call him that when we meet. Well, here comes little ol’ Tom Junior now. ‘Tom! How you doing ol’ boy?”’

“Right fine, I guess. Didn’t expect you and Ralph to take me out for drinks.”

“Why not, Tom? You and I been working here together for a long time. Ralph is my colleague and my dear friend. You can trust the both of us.”

“Question is Sam, can we trust him?”

“Fair question. Can we trust you, Tom Junior?”

“Don’t call me Tom Junior Sam!”

“Alright, sorry Tom. Won’t happen again. Will it Ralph?”

“I didn’t call him Tom Junior. You did.”

“Yeah, you can trust me. I ain’t got nothin’ on ya.”

“Alright then. Getcha a beer, Tom?”

“Sure.”

“Ralph, how ’bout you step up to the bar there and get us a few beers?”

“How ’bout you do it Sam?”

“Alright, alright… It’s too fine a night and too many pretty girls to be wrangling. ‘Hey hon, bring us a few beers over here, will ya?’ So, Tom. I've been working for your father a long time. You notice things. And I can’t help but notice that you bust your ass around here, and you don’t get nothin’ for it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well Tom, seems to me when someone puts in a hard day’s work, they should get something out it. Don’t you agree?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t get paid nothin’ for what you do on the farm. Do you Tom?”

“No.”

“Don’t that make you a little mad son? Don’t that get you a little hot under the collar sometimes?”

“Yeah, it does.”

“Would me, too. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen your father give you the time of day, much less pay you anything.”

“He don’t.”

“No, he don’t, do he? Man, them beers taste real good on a hot summer’s night. Real good. Alright, so where were we?”

“Yeah Sam, where were we?”

“C’mon Ralph. I’m just trying to help Tom Junior here see things a little more clearly.”

“Goddamnit Sam! Don’t call me fucking Tom Junior! I don’t like it!”

“Yeah Sam, don’t call him fucking Tom Junior! He don’t like it!”

“Tom, you know I don’t think of you that way. I’m just trying to make a point.”

“Well, make it then.”

“Tom, I’ve been working on the farm for 28 years, and it’s plain as the ass on an orangutan that your father keeps you under his thumb, every goddamn minute, of every goddamn day. He treats you like a child when you’re all but a man. Ain’t that right? You’re a whisker away from being a full-grown man, ain’t ya Tom?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“That’s right. Well, don’t you think maybe you should be man enough to do something about your father?”

“Like what Sam? Shoot him in the back?”

“Hell, boy, shoot him in the front!”

“I ain’t shooting nothing! Jesus Christ Sam! You brought me here to ask me to kill my father!?”

“No Tom, of course not. I ain’t asking you to kill your father. Man signs my checks. Pays me at least.”

“Fuck you, Sam!”

“Alright, now hold on, hold on. Calm down. I ain’t talking nothin’ about shootin’ your father. I believe he’s leaving town soon anyway, going with your mama, bless her little heart. What’s that, maybe a week or so from now?”

“Week and a half.”

“And you’ll be here running the farm pretty much by yourself, wontcha Tom?”

“Yeah.”

“Won’t get paid nothing for it, will you?”

“No.”

“All that wasted potential. You could run the whole goddamn kit and caboodle yourself. There’s a lot of money on that farm Tom, especially the sheep. Beaucoup dollars.”

“What? You want me to give you a good deal on some sheep Sam?”

“No Tom. I ain’t lookin’ to buy your sheep. Why would I? Your father pays Ralph to steal ’em. Now you might not know this son, but there’s a long-standing feud between your family and the McCoys, going way far back.”

“So? There ain’t no McCoys around here no more.”

“Oh yes there are Tom. Not the original ones of course, but their flesh n’ blood. The Hatfields up and gone a while back, but some of the McCoys still around. I don’t think even your father knows that. But I do. I even sees one or two of ’em occasionally. And I just happened to be talking with one of ’em the other day. You see Tom, the reason your family even have them sheep is ’cause your great grandfather stole them, at least their forebearers, from the McCoys. The real McCoys. ’Course that never set right with them, and they’d sure like to get ’em back. Not just for the money, though there’d be a lot of it, not to mention the lamb chops, but to wave their middle finger in your daddy’s eye. It’s personal Tom. But it ain’t so easy stealin’ flocks of sheep in this day and age. There’re all sorts of cameras, electric wires, booby traps all over that farm, even some you don’t know about. ’Course your daddy pays off the law to make sure there ain’t no thieves getting in. Hell Tom, they even arrest the wolves. Put little wolf handcuffs on them. You never see no wolves

on the farm, do you Tom? Point being, only way the McCoys could get them sheep is if it were an inside job. You see what I’m gettin’ at here boy?”

“There ain’t no way my pa let them get away with it, McCoys or anyone else. My pa ain’t scared of nothin’. He’d hunt them down, shoot ’em, and hang ’em himself.”

“Not if weren’t in town he wouldn’t. Couldn’t if he wanted to, could he Tom?”

“No. He couldn’t. But why should I want to do this anyway?”

“Them sheep worth a lot of money Tom. A lot. I’ll make sure the McCoys give you a cut. How much you want?”

“Jesus, I ain’t doing this!”

“Could be a couple hundred dollars Tom.”

“Couple hundred dollars!?”

“Yeah Tom, I’m telling you, them sheep are worth a lot of money! I’m in good with the McCoys. They know they can’t get ’em without you. I’ll make sure they take care of you. Of course, that’s not the only reason you want to do this Tom.”

“Yeah, what’s the other?”

“Ah, c’mon Tom, what do you think? We both know how much you resent your pa, and you should too, rightly so. Get some revenge. Now I know revenge is a dirty word Tom, and it don’t exactly capture what’s in your heart, though maybe it does, but you’d get some satisfaction out of it, probably a lot. A little grin, grin, grin, under your chinny, chinny, chin. You’d carry that secret with you the rest of your life. You could dangle your middle finger at your pa any time you want, in your mind of course, but that’s where all our feelings are.”

“Yeah, but he ain’t gonna believe the McCoys did it.”

“Be funny if he did. What’s he gonna do? Round up a posse to chase down the McCoys? He’d be laughed outta town.”

“No, c’mon Sam, he’d know I was in on it. And I would be.”

“Yeah, I know Tom. That’s why we’re here.”

“My pa be spittin’ bullets! He’d kill me for it! I ain’t lying.”

“Oh, c’mon Tom…”

“He would Sam! You’ve never seen him in a fury. You’ve never seen him when he drinks. When my pa drinks, he can scare the coil off a rattlesnake’s ass. He’d fly off the handle and beat me with the pan, right there on the stove. He’d burn me too before he’d kill me. Push my hand to the gridle, throw boiling water on my face, just to hear me squeal like a pig. You don’t know him like I do Sam. He already tried to kill me once, I mean for real. If my ma weren’t there he’d a done it too. Hell, he’d kill her if he could.”

“Oh Tom, Tom, Tom. You really believe your father would think you were in on it? That you helped plan it? Little Tom Junior? Your father thinks you’re a stone butt idiot and you know it, more than I do. He ain’t gonna suspect you Tom, c’mon.”

“I don’t care what he thinks of my brains, he’d have to figure I was in on it.”

“Alright Tom, how about this? Let’s say we roughed you up a little. Not real hard of course, just enough to make it look like you tried.”

“Fighting off the McCoys?”

“Jesus Tom, there ain’t no McCoys around here no more!”

“Why’d you say there were Sam?”

“Yeah, why’d you say there were Sam?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve been in the business a long time. I know plenty of folks be real happy to have them sheep. Pay good money for ’em.”

“I ain’t doing this shit Sam!”

“What, you afraid boy? Man can take a punch.”

“It ain’t that Sam.”

“Well what then?”

“It ain’t gonna work! It just plain out ain’t gonna work!”

“You don’t think so, huh Tom? Maybe you’re right. I don’t think you’re right, but maybe.”

“I ain’t talking about this no more Sam! I ain’t doing it, and that’s it!”

“I see. Well then let me ask you something, Tom.”

“Yeah?”

“This conversation never happened, did it?”

“Nah.”

“Ain’t gonna tell your pa nothin’ about it?”

“No Sam, of course not.”

“Sure about that Tom?”

“Yeah Sam, I’m sure about it. What are you, threatening me now?”

“No Tom, I can’t believe you’d ask me that. Now I know we ain’t confidants. As your father’s employee, wouldn’t make no sense that we were. But we’ve never had a squabble. Even had a few laughs now and again. I even think of you as a friend sometimes. Dontcha ever think about me that way? Just a little?”

“Yeah, I do Sam. I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright son. I know you’re a man, and you know you’re a man. I think you’re making a big mistake Tom. I really do. But you gotta make your own way in life. Your own

decisions, your own actions, all of it. I don’t know what more to say. Let’s shake like men. Feels good to be a man, don’t it Tom?”

“Yeah, it does.”

“You’re a good boy Tom. Get you another beer? My treat of course.”

“Nah, I best be going.”

“Alright then. Not a word.”

“Not a word Sam. I give you mine.”

“That’s good. Now go in peace to love and serve the Lord.”

“You too Sam. You too Ralph. Good to see you outside the job.”

*****

“Goddamnit Sam! What the fuck! Why’d you let him get away like that! He done up and left! He ain’t gonna do it!”

“Yeah, I know Ralph. I was sitting at the same table as you.”

“You said you were sure as shit he’d go along with the plan!”

“I don’t think I put it quite that way, but yeah, I did say something like that.”

“You traitor!”

“Traitor!? You callin’ me a traitor! I outta knock your ass to the floor, right here in public! I tried every goddamn thing I could think of to get Tom Junior to do it! Didn’t I?”

“You shouldn’t have said nothing about beatin’ him up. I think that’s why he didn’t do it.”

“Nah, that ain’t why.”

“Why then?”

“I overestimated Tom Junior. I gave him too much credit.”

“For what?”

“For his determination to get out from under his daddy’s thumb. But he couldn’t do it. I guess Tom Junior just ain’t a man.”

“You knew it wasn’t gonna work, didn’t you? The whole time.”

“I didn’t know for sure, but I suspected it might not. It’s a tall order for a boy to cross his father, especially a father like Tom Junior’s. I figured it’d be hard to win him over.”

“Did you even want to win him over?”

“I wanted you to think I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted you to think I had the guts to quit the job. So I gave it a try, and I left it up to fate.”

“Fate? You believe in fate?”

“Sure want to.”

“Why?”

“Because then I’m absolved.”

“Of what?”

“Of failure. If I try and fail, I’m not chagrined. If I don’t try, I’m not ashamed. Ain’t no hangdog either way. It’s all in the hands of fate. Que sera, sera.”

“So fate gives you an excuse.”

“It gives me a reason not to care.”

“I don’t understand Sam. What are you so afraid of?”

“I’m afraid of everything Ralph. I’m afraid of life. You said it yourself. You said I wanna be your father, so I can live my life through you. You’re right. I do wanna be your father. But I don’t wanna be the father that raised me. That father was a cruel man. He hated himself, and he hated me for knowing it. You said I want you to succeed, so I can be proud you’re my son. My father didn’t want me to succeed because I was his son. He didn’t want to live his life through me; he wanted to stop me from livin’ mine. He wanted me to fail, not to excuse his failings, but to take me down with him. And I’m afraid I’m trying to take you down with me Ralph. That’s the thing I’m most afraid of. I’m terrified at the thought of it. But I won’t do it. I’d burn in hell before I’d let that happen. Thank God for that. ’Least the good Lord got something right. He got another thing right too: He gave you the wherewithal, so that neither me nor anyone else could take you down, including the Almighty Himself. You’re not bound by fate Ralph. You’re alive. You’re truly alive.

My father was afraid that God would send him to hell. He wished he was younger because he was afraid to die. I wish I was older because I’m afraid to live. He tried to cheat death. I try to cheat life. I was never gonna quit the job Ralph. I’d rather stay with what I know, even if it don’t ask much of me. Because it don’t ask much of me. That way, I can accept my lot in life and never fall short of reaching the stars. I’m lost in a netherworld of my own creation, more dead than alive, and I ain’t got neither the guts nor the brains to get out. That’s how I am. That’s how I’ll always be.”

“Stop it, Sam! You are alive! More than me sometimes. You got more guts and more brains than you know. I’ve seen ’em both. I’ve seen you take chances I would never take, wouldn’t have even thought to take. Hell, the way you masquerade them sheep sometimes confounds me. Yeah, you lose a few more than you win, but you take the chance, and the pay cut that comes with it. You’d get a lot more out of life Sam if you thought you deserved it. You’re not scared of losing Sam; you’re scared of winning. Thing you’re most afraid of in life is gettin’ your cake and eatin’ it too. You don’t try gettin’ it, ’cause you wouldn’t eat it. You wouldn’t eat it, so you don’t try gettin’ it.

You can’t think like that Sam, especially about Deborah. She’s a damn fine woman, and more prettier than not. Dumbest thing ever come out of your mouth, ’least the dumbest thing I ever heard come out of it, is that you don’t deserve her. You do Sam! You deserve her as much as anyone deserves anything.”

“Deborah is a wise woman Ralph. Wise beyond her years. Don’t know anyone wiser.”

“Then she ain’t no dumbass for liking you.”