Ms. Got Rocks (26 page)

For extra measure Rocky bought bamboo needles in the small size she did not have and a sweater pattern for beginners. The shop and the gas station got the entire scrap metal earnings from that morning.

Happily but guiltily leaving the store laden with bags, Rocky reminded her conscience that she had not a darn thing to wear for the winter.

“Remember all my winter clothes are in the landfill in Anchorage. Take that, conscious,” she said aloud as she got into the truck.

Feeling much less guilty, and much lighter in the wallet, Rocky made her way across town to Costco.

This part of Sacramento with William Land Park Zoo was so pretty. It had always been a favorite of Rocky’s. Having still more time before the warehouse opened, Rocky could think of nowhere better to sit than in the big park and enjoy.

Paying her admission, she bought an animal food packet. There was a gift shop on the pathway to the bears.

Brushing off her dirty junkyard clothes and patting down her hair, she popped in a breath mint, and felt ready to meet the manager. Rocky checked that she had her business cards and the postcard portfolio.

That was a profitable stop, Rocky sold the baby rattlesnake photo as a poster and greeting cards. The buyer would like an email brochure of her artwork.

Rocky had never done a poster but that didn‘t stop her; she could stop at Kinko’s and find out how to make posters.

Rocky would need twelve snake posters for the Zoo. She may order another two dozen on spec for the gallery in Truckee and who knows where else.

Rocky grinned all the way to the bears and admonished herself for not bringing her camera. She had a parade of Peafowl following her through the park. Sitting on the park bench enjoying the bears Rocky called Margie. Funny that both of them were that excited about selling a picture of a bunch of deadly snakes.

Costco, of course, was jammed with shoppers, and Rocky loved it. She arm-wrestled an absolute hunk of a doll guy for a cart. Rocky whirl winded off on a marathon shop before she dropped session.

Film, always more film and it was getting scarce but a good buy there, detergent and jeans. Now she plopped as many bags of dog food onto the cart as she could possibly move through the store, and topped it all off with a package of muffins and a fresh pineapple that smelled like tropical heaven.

Moving the heavily laden cart through the warehouse to the checkout stations Rocky saw that guy again. He was shopping for the office. He had copier paper, toner, coffee and muffins and two small bottles of water.

He pulled his cart into the line behind Rocky, and held out one of the bottles of cold water.

“One for the road?” he asked.

“Not very original, but you get extra points for original in Costco checkout venue,” Rocky said accepting the water gratefully, she realized how tired she was.

“I’ll try harder next time,” he said clinking his water bottle with hers.

“How many dogs do you own?” he nodded toward the rolling cart filled with ten bags of dog food.

“Oh, only two, I’m buying a years supply for my brothers’ dog,” Rocky answered.

“I wondered if you were a sled dog musher, or something,” he smiled and talked at the same time. Rocky wondered how hard it was to do that. It seemed such a long time since she had smiled.

“Sir, I can take you over here,” a Costco checker was dragging the handsome strangers’ cart over to her cash register.

He waved at Rocky and moved after her, “Ah, ships that pass in Costco.”

Rocky was at checkout now and stacking her items on the belt. She hoped this checker put a wiggle on the checkout.

“Maybe I can catch up with handsome stranger at the door,” Rocky muttered as she watched him from behind.

Scrounging around in her tote bag she found the breath mints, in case.

Nope, no hope here, the checker could not get the scanner to read any of the labels on the dog food, and someone had taken the scanner cheat sheet from the register and Rocky waited and tried not to burn. Standing on her tiptoes, Rocky regretfully watched handsome stranger and his computer supplies walk out the door.

“Ah well, four months without sex can’t be even close to the record,” Rocky sighed. “I will live. I do not like it, but I will live.” The checkout cashier looked up from her scanner.

Rocky stopped at the edge of the sidewalk and scanned the area for him when she left the store. There were too many cars and people.

“Too bad for both of us,” Rocky consoled herself. “He was probably married.” 

Then, she remembered that she was still married. That was another issue to look into that week.

Rocky’s brief stop at Kinko’s taught her that making posters that way was much too expensive for what the buyer at the Zoo was willing to pay for them. It was apparent until Rocky bought her own equipment she should only make framed prints, greeting cards and post cards. Kinko’s gave her the name of the poster company used by the “name” pro photographers. Rocky would call them to see if she could get a better deal.

The trip was almost done; she was driving home by the fastest back way roads, having no intention of getting stuck in any commute traffic on the freeway. Her hand was throbbing as it was and getting home to an ice pack, or heat pack or something pack was the priority.

Back in Auburn, when Margie looked at Rocky’s swollen finger and hand; she sat Rocky down in the kitchen with a pan of crushed ice. Rocky soaked while her sister-in-law unloaded the dog food.

“Open wide,” Margie had something in her hand.

“Fat chance, Nurse Vampira. What is that?” Rocky mumbled through clenched bared teeth.

“A poisoned apple disguised as an antibiotic capsule. Don’t be such a weenie. Your poor finger needs a chance to heal, what the hell have you been doing to it?” Margie was staring at Rocky’s hand, straight up with ice.

“Just loading and unloading junk and putting the motor on the little wagon and stuff like that there,” Rocky was trying to make light of what she had been doing.

“You and Dev are two peas in a pod,” Margie was shaking her head at her sister-in-law.

“We aren’t bad; we aren’t used to being sick or hurt. We have no experience on how to behave,” she was creating excuses as fast as she could think of them.

Devlin’s truck came surging up the driveway, and Rocky felt as though she had been rescued from the Spanish Inquisition.

“Hey, Margie and Rocky, you have her hand in a pan in ice, what’s up?” Devlin was in the building, the dogs were dancing around him and the space in the kitchen was filled with him.

“Nothing, she has been a naughty girl all week, and her finger is hot and swollen. She is getting an ice pack an antibiotic and the lecture.”

“Oh no, not the lecture,” Devlin was making appalled type faces. He would have made a great old time melodrama actor.

“But the heroine will be fine in an hour and can drive herself home, because her brother and his fair, adorable wife have a date,” Margie said while giving her a pat on the back.

“In that case, I will leave you two lovely ladies and load the fire hose I bought today into fair heroine’s trusty pickup truck. Fair heroine owes me twenty-five dollars,” Devlin informed his sister.

“What am I doing with a fire hose?” Rocky asked. “Oh, yeah, the lawn irrigation system. Cool, Dev, the check is in the mail, watch for it,” she called after her brother who was already half out the door, with the three adoring dogs all trying to get in the doorway at the same time he did.

C
hapter 26

T
hrough the first two weeks of August, Rocky made a valiant attempt to heal her amputated finger stump. The look of it still repulsed her, but the chunk out of her hip used for the skin graft had healed and was looking none too nasty.

Rocky decided if she ever wore a bikini, she would not scare small children, if she also wore gloves. She was overreacting to her injury. Rocky’s face was striking and expressive enough no one looked at her hands.

She spent her time practicing knitting using her left hand to move the yarn. Being left handed that was not a stretch for her. All three of the ski caps were knit and blocked. Rocky laid out plans for photo trips as soon as she could drive all day without pain.

She drew a garden plan for the newly vacant front meadow. Gardening on that scale will be after there was a well and piped water outlets. There were rock walls to be built first.

With money in the bank, Rocky was not feeling as much of a pinch for basic necessities. In her two-week layoff she discovered shopping on Ebay and Amazon. Her rural route mail carrier understood when she asked him to somehow get the packages into the mailbox, so she did not have to drive to the Post Office.

Each day Rocky drove a little further. Ironically, she now had time to visit places that she could not go before she hurt her finger. One hot afternoon she went to the library and researched photo software in the air-conditioned building.

The local farmers market in Auburn was busy and fun. Rocky stocked up on vegetables that someone else watered, and soap made by loving hands at Marigold Marsh Soap Co. She met with Margie there.

Margie told Rocky, she had talked to Deputy Justin Dixon at the hospital, and he asked her if Rocky was still married. That may explain why he hadn’t called. Deputy Justin Dixon may have received triple bonus points on the dating game.

Before sunrise the next day, to beat the heat, Rocky made several batches of vegetable soup to put away for winter. However, having to buy zucchini, even organically grown zucchini was sick and wrong. Rocky daydreamed about Justin but the dream never had an ending.

There was the appointment with the flight surgeon for the first week in September, Margie said it was too soon to go for a physical. Rocky could not wait much longer to resume flying. Flying was breathing for her. Her stomach hurt with the waiting, waiting for everything and everyone in her life.

Sight unseen, she bought a seven-foot long faux leather couch, with plenty of hope she wasn’t doing something stupid. Rocky was desperate for something to sit on.

The couch turned out to be a winner, with only one tear in the arm. She took a trip to town and bought a glue gun, while there she also bought a mattress, a computer center and a chest of drawers.

It was a panic watching the huge furniture store delivery truck trying to power up the steep rutted driveway. That big truck could not do it. Rocky drove the pickup down, and the men re-loaded her purchases onto the pickup and they drove back up the driveway. The men unloaded and took the furniture into the cabin. It only took two trips, but they were plenty glad to leave. The temperature was hovering at 100F, and with no air conditioning in the cabin, they thought they were in a third world country. Rocky was truly bored, that was the most fun she had all that week.

Lazing out on the grass with Thumper, the dogs and a catalog they chose linens, a down comforter and a bedspread for the newly furnished bedroom.

For a jackrabbit, Thumper had good taste, although her color sense leaned toward carrot orange and lettuce green.

"I am well and truly bored, if I care what a bunny color is." Rocky shook her head and then ruffled Thumper's fur.

Rocky braved the hot cabin and ordered the bedroom set online. Shopping done for the rest of the year, Thumper and Rocky went to the river edge and sat in the shallows, while the dogs swam. Rocky thought Thumper was a little girl rabbit. She looked really comical sopping wet after wading in the summer warmed river shallows. She was getting longer, looking more like the classic jackrabbit than a baby bunny. Rocky got several adorable bathing suit issue photos of the little rabbit.

Rocky did not hear from Deputy Justin Dixon.

Rocky did see Callaghan. In the third week of August, when she still had the chain over the driveway, there was a hoot at the bottom of the hill, one hot, dry, boring afternoon. Rocky recognized the truck, and added the loaded shotgun to the equipment in the pickup cab.

When she got to the bottom of the hill there sat Mr. Callaghan. Getting out of the truck but not unlocking the chain nor taking it from the posts on either side of the road, Rocky waited. She waited by the hot chain for at least a minute before Callaghan came out of his truck and stood by the door.

Lovie was comfortable sitting by her foot, until she got a sniff of Callaghan and she stood on alert.

“Callaghan is planning a Mexican stand off event,” Rocky thought.

They stood opposite one another under the broiling sun. Just stood and stared.

Rocky forgot her hat and her head was scorching in the sunlight. She didn’t look at her watch, but started counting to sixty in her head. She planned to turn around and drive back to the porch, if Callaghan hadn’t stated his business by then. She reached forty-five, when he finally spoke.

“Mrs. Got Rocks,” he said.

“Mrs. Hardwyn,” she corrected.

“Sounds like a porn star I used to know in Dublin."Callaghan stated.

"What a totally off the wall thing to say." This guy was another wacko, like Rocky had not had her fair slice of wackos this year. “You haven’t kissed the Blarney Stone, Callaghan. You are not welcome here,state your business and clear out,” Rocky brusquely informed him.

“I’ve come to make a deal, Mrs. Hardwyn,” he paused like he expected her to say something.

He spoke first. “I’ve come to ask you, since you are injured and can’t dredge. Ah, could we come to an arrangement, where I can lease your claim,” he finally got it out. “Lease till the end of the season. I know that you will be back dredging next season,” he was giving Rocky a rather pitiful look with those wonderful eyes.

“Mr. Callaghan, I do not do business on a handshake. I require legally drawn up, legally binding, in writing contracts,” Rocky began fast thinking, would this be a good idea, how much of a good idea? Would she get to see Callaghan every day?

“That is not a problem,” his voice was changing to a honey sweet Irish brogue.

“What would constitute a problem for you, Mr. Callaghan?” Rocky asked.

“A problem would be if you would not allow me to lease the claim. Another problem would be if you would not have dinner with me soon,” he said.

“Well, then you have at minimum one problem, possibly two. To avoid a mistake Mr. Callaghan, my name is Mrs. Hardwyn as in married Mrs. Hardwyn,” she said this even though she has been going by her maiden name Clancy for months.

“What are you intending to offer me to lease my claim,” Rocky was trying to sound totally, supremely business like in the face of that handsome body in tight jeans and a navy blue Tee with Taz stitched on the pocket.

“Ah, I thought five percent of net would be a good price,” he looked uneasy. He knew that this was a highway robbery price.

“Stuff that in your left ear, and come back when you have a serious business offer,” Rocky returned to the truck and started it. The dogs climbed over her to get in the passenger seat. That wasn’t exactly the picture she wanted to present to him, but there it was.

Rocky watched from the porch lawn chair as Callaghan walked up the driveway. While she waited for him, she thought of what she really would like from leasing him the claim. Hitting on a figure that seemed equable to her, there was plenty of gold still to be had by someone skilled enough to get it from the claim. Whether Callaghan was a good dredger or not was his problem.

“Mrs. Hardwyn,” Callaghan said as he approached the porch and Phoebe made it apparent that she was moving into a more offensive position.

“Mrs. Hardwyn, perhaps I was hasty with that offer. I can go as high as eight percent after expenses,” he offered.

“Mr. Callaghan, fifteen percent of daily clean up before expenses,” Rocky offered back at him.

“Nine per cent of net and you are killing me, Mrs. Hardwyn,” he counter offered.

“I’m not close to killing you, yet, Mr. Callaghan, we both know what that claim is capable of producing. I’m sure you saw the pictures of my monster nugget on TV. Fifteen percent, Mr. Callaghan, of gross.”

“Nine percent of net, then,” Callaghan was trying to look firm.

“Are you going to do the remediation of the riverbed, when you have finished working?” she asked.

“For the nine per cent, yes, I would do the remediation also,” he was weakening, though she had not got everything she wanted yet.

“With the remediation I could come down as far as thirteen percent of gross, and you would also have to reclaim any mercury that you found,” Rocky said.

“I can’t make a profit at that per cent of a cut,” he looked her square in the eye.

A huge laugh came roaring out of Rocky.

“Mr. Callaghan, gold is almost 1800 dollars a troy ounce. If you can’t make a profit on a claim like mine at those prices, you have no business working a claim like mine at all,” Rocky said through her laughter.

“All right twelve percent of net, I clean up. Final offer,” he said.

“No, Mr. Callaghan the final offer is thirteen percent of gross on a daily basis, you have seven day a week access, remediation of the river bed, recovery of mercury and I’ll throw in the use of my Dad’s sampling map, saving you days of working time. Final and last proposal, Mr. Callaghan, take it or go,” Rocky was now standing, signifying the end of negotiation.

The Irish eyes looked into the other set of Irish eyes.

Callaghan paused. Rocky waited. Again, he blinked first.

“Deal,” he said sticking out his hand.

Rocky took his rough hand, shaking it as she said, “I do not do business on a handshake, Mr. Callaghan. “I’ll have the contract ready tomorrow morning. You can sign it then, when you bring your gear over.”

Without another word, Callaghan hopped off the porch scaring poor Phoebe half to pieces. He strode down the driveway without a look back. Shortly thereafter, Rocky heard a truck cruise off toward town.

Rocky called the Sheriff Substation and told the duty officer that Callaghan had permission to come onto her property. She was hoping that Justin would call to confirm or something.

Tomorrow might be interesting.

*   *   *

Rocky received a terrific, long, funny letter from Jen in Anchorage. Jen wrote she saw Fabienne, the girl friend of Rocky’s almost former husband, Tony. Jen said that Fabienne made a point to stop her to say that she dumped Tony recently. Fabienne didn’t tell Jen why, however.

Rocky tried not to gloat, but she still carried a grudge that her possessions and her dog's toys and beds went to the Anchorage land fill because of Fabienne.

The same day that Jen’s letter arrived, Rocky got a lovely box of heather colored wool yarn to try to knit a winter sweater. She also received an even lovelier letter from her attorney advising her when the divorce would be final. Rocky wondered if at the end of September she would feel really sorry. She was building a better life alone here in the Gold Country than she ever had with Tony, even counting all the weird people she had met since coming back to Whiskey Gap.

Rocky bought a bigger mailbox. That one minor thing seemed to signify to her that she was home at last. Callaghan did not show up the next morning to sign the dredging rights lease. At noon, Rocky closed and locked the gate at the county road. Callaghan could still get into the property by the back way, if he wanted to go that route. He obviously knew the way.

Driving to Sacramento to the doctor’s office for a checkup was not going to be a treat. The late August heat was broiling the land of the lower Sierra to a crispy crusty golden brown. The doctor’s office opened at the time that Rocky would rather be home escaping the heat by wading in the river.

She planned a side trip to an office supply warehouse after the Doctor visit. She needed software for processing photos for the gallery calendar. Sitting in the hot cabin learning new software would be an event equaling going to the dentist.

She stopped at the 7-Eleven, a few miles from the cabin on the way back that miserable hot day. As she went in the store she glanced at the Sacramento newspaper headlines.

Mafia Don-Ette Arrested.

Drinking the bottled cold tea and reading the article, Rocky sat and sweated in the late afternoon sun. The truck air conditioner could not keep up with the heat, but Rocky could not wait to read the article.

Jasmine had been arrested at Logan Airport in Boston returning from what the newspaper called her ten week flight to freedom in Moscow. She was taken to the Boston City Jail awaiting extradition to California on the attempted murder of a local juvenile last May.

Rocky thought, “That juvenile will be a grandfather before Jazz gets tried for anything.”

On the way home, she felt a sense of freedom, now that it was over. Rocky knew it would be a cold day in hell before she had to testify against Jazz. The Harris family attorneys would keep that tied in knots for a lifetime.