First chapter of the Gertie Thump sequel . . .
to whet your appetite!
To build excitement for the sequel to The Convict, the Rookie Card and the Redemption of Gertie Thump, (and also to light fire under my smoldering behind), I am sharing the rough draft of the first chapter to the sequel, whose working title is The Crack, the Booty, and the Revenge of Gertie Thump.
CHAPTER ONE
Gertie held her tongue, waiting for Sheriff Gibbons to finish his arm-waving rant. Sharon just looked on with amusement, knowing full well the matter was beyond her control.
“Gertie, you know better than that! I don’t know why we’re even having this conversation! You can’t go around accosting folks! And a stranger in this town, to boot! He didn’t know you from Eve. What must his impression be of Rosedale when a cranky old woman comes up and yanks on him?”
“Are you finished?”
“I don’t know. Do you have anything to say for yourself? Any sort of reasonable explanation from the natural laws of civilized society? I know you live in your own little world, but the rest of us live by a different set of rules!”
“Now are you finished?”
“Go ahead! Try to explain this one away!”
Gertie Thump was old. She was tired. But that isn’t why she did what she did. She did what she did because Gertie was the pariah that haunted the town of Rosedale, tormenting them with her rigid standards of decorum and propriety—standards which she somehow felt unnecessary to uphold herself. Sharon was her only friend and nobody could seem to figure that one out except that Gertie had been pivotal in having her released from jail. Sheriff Gibbons was the long-suffering lawman who had to clean up her aftermath with the citizens and do his best to keep them from doing away with her.
“He was walking in front of Sharon and me, flaunting his underwear for everyone to see. Why is that no one considered arresting him for indecent exposure? I took it as long as I could before jumping in. What in the Sam Hill is he doing in Rosedale anyway? A suspicious character if ever there was one. He doesn’t seem to know anyone here. Hoodlums. We don’t need him and his kind here. We have enough problems without that sort of element moving in.”
“And this is supposed to explain away your assault how exactly?”
“I just told you! Tarnation! I couldn’t stand to look at his boxers anymore. I simply did him a favor by pulling his pants up for him. Clearly he has some sort of mental deficiency if he couldn’t even tell they were falling off.”
“Gertie, you are going to give me a stroke, I swear! That’s the way kids wear their pants these days. He hasn’t done anything of a suspicious nature. I don’t know who he is, but I do know there is no reason for you to have attacked him. Now you’d better consider apologizing and doing what you can to rectify this before he decides to press charges.”
“You have got to be kidding me! Me, apologize to him? Why, Sharon and I were incensed by his flagrant immodesty! Weren’t we, Sharon?”
Sharon shrugged her shoulders and put her fingers to her lips, repressing anything she might have wanted to say.
“I’m not kidding, Gertie. I’m going to take you into my office where he’s waiting and I want you to tell him you’re sorry. Do you understand me?”
Gertie gave him the stink-eye and crossed her arms in front of her ample chest, huffing her disgust. He gently took her by the elbow and led her lagging body into his office. The young man scrambled back to his seat as they entered. A file cabinet drawer clicked closed.
“Something you’re looking for?”Sheriff Gibbons had not missed that small, audible detail.7
“No, sir. I was just looking around at . . . um . . . your certificates. Yea, that’s it. I was looking at your credentials. That’s all. Very impressive, sir.”
“My credentials aren’t in the file cabinet.” The sheriff let it go, but Gertie could see he was noting the incident for reference in any potential future trouble.
“Son, Ms. Thump has something she’d like to tell you. Go ahead, Gertie.”
He turned to Gertie.
“Ms. Thump, I’d like to formally introduce you to your victim. His name is Elvis Washington.
Gertie snickered.
“My mother met The King. She was a fan.” Elvis was in the building and a little on the defensive side.
“I would strongly advise you to refrain from any disrespect." Gertie could see that the tired peacekeeper was reaching his limit, but she couldn't hold back.
“Disrespect? Disrespect? He’s the one who disrespected me and Sharon!”
“This isn’t the time for debate. This is the time for apology.” The sheriff’s words were stern and delivered with a stone face.
“Keep your pants pulled up and this won’t happen in the future!” Gertie snapped.
Sheriff Gibbons cleared his throat, sending her a clear message to revise her words.
“Fine! Whatever! I’m sorry, okay? I just can’t stand to see someone’s underwear. You were showing disrespect to me and my friend, here. You know that, right?”
The young man turned to the sheriff. “I’m sorry. That didn’t sound much like no apology to me.”
Once again, the sheriff sent Gertie an audible warning by clearing his throat loudly, this time tossing in a hand gesture.
Gertie’s response was barely audible and uttered in a guttural hiss. “I’m sorry I didn’t refrain from touching your person when I made my effort to correct your rude indifference to my sensibilities.”
“I think I might have heard the word sorry somewhere in that mumble. I accept your apology. Now, I have to go and speak to some people about this little incident. I find myself needing a little advice on how and whether to proceed, if you know what I mean.”
The word ‘situation’ was spread out into deliberate syllables and accompanied by two-finger air quotes.
“I don’t think there’s any need for that, son. Look, Elvis, the people of this town have learned to live with Ms. Thump and her quaint little eccentricities. I’m sure if you stick around, you will as well.”
Then the sheriff decided to delve a little deeper.
“What exactly is the nature of your visit? Do you have family here?”
“The nature of my business is just that—my business. I may or may not be scouting out a new place to live and work.”
Other than her own belligerence, Gertie had rarely seen anyone else stand up to Gibbons. He may hold the cards for everyone in Rosedale, but this was a newcomer and he had nothing to control him with.
It didn’t take long for the sheriff to gain the upper hand.
“Look, son, just keep your nose clean while you’re in my town. You hear?”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
With that, he pivoted and strutted out of the department, smiling broadly at Gertie as he walked by.
Once gone, she huffed.
“Who in the Sam Hill does he think he is?”
“Look, Gertie, I hope you’ve learned something here today. I doubt it. But I hope so. You need to keep your nose clean as well. Just stay away from that kid. I don’t much care for you, but I sure don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.”
Copyright © 2015 by Rent's Due Publications
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, click a button on any page to send email with details of the request.