You'll Need a Flowchart

Home is where the DVR is.  At least for Deputy Davis Gorland.  He liked nothing better than to come home from a hard day at the Sheriff's office, turn on his 52 inch flat screen, and plunge into the world of his DVRed programs.  All of his favorites ready and waiting.  He'd bring in a glorious raft of comfort foods, and be ready for hours of his favorite shows.  Eventually, he would fall asleep; most often when he was watching a recording of yesterday's The Tonight Show (loved that Jimmy Fallon!).  But no problem!  He simply would not delete that episode, and finish watching it the next day.

Sometimes Davis got lonely.  Sometimes he wishes he had someone to share it all with.  But what if they had different taste in television?  What if they didn't like television at all? 

He thought of his sister and her convoluted brood, and he thought, maybe it isn't so bad to walk alone.  Or couch alone, as his case may be. 

When he was just starting out on the force, some fifteen years ago, and he was about fifty pounds lighter (still making him about two hundred and fifty), he thought he might have something going with Mary Sweat, a sweet, petite young thing who didn't mind cuddling in front of the TV.  But she was pushing marriage faster than he wanted, and so she broke things off, and within a few months she married Joe Easter.  And now she had five kids, a whole basketball team.  She was still sweet but no longer petite.  Of course, there was nothing really he could say about that.  He would say this about the Easter family - at least they were all still together.  You couldn't say that about a lot of the families around here, especially his sister's.  Danielle's family was so complicated, you almost felt like you needed a flowchart to keep track of it.

Having spent the day managing the department while his boss, Sheriff Alan Steel, investigated the bizarre Rondy Strickland killing, Davis wanted nothing more to crawl on to his couch with a huge bucket of fried chicken from The Chicken Hut, and start binge watching Breaking Bad.  But he wasn't going to do that.  He was going to be a good son and visit his Daddy, something he tried to do once a week.

He would have loved to have his father come stay with him at his duplex, but with his job, it would have been impossible to give him the time and attention he needed.  Daddy had bad emphysema and was on an oxygen tank most of the time.  The truth was his sister, Danielle, didn't work, and was able to spend more time with him.  And if she didn't, one of her cavalcade of children and step-children could step up and fill in.  And he also thought, as much as it pained him, that Daddy liked it there better.  There was so much more going on at Danielle's trailer, so much more than the long hours of quiet at Davis's duplex, punctuated only by the sounds and glow from the boob tube.

He pulled into the trailer park.  Danielle's mobile home was near the front, and it was the largest one there.  It needed to be, with the number of people she had coming in and out of it.  It was like two double wides combined, or seemed that way.  There certainly was nothing "mobile" left about it.  It was never going anywhere ever again.

Sandy Harley and Digger Crowley were sitting out at a picnic table in front of the trailer, on a makeshift patio near the front door.  They each were downing a Busch, and had several empties on the table.  They were engaged in some involved conversation that quieted when Sandy saw Davis approaching.  "Hey, Deputy Dawg!" teased Sandy.  "How's it hanging?  You guys got enough yet to fry that little Hollander fellow?"

Sandy was Danielle's step son through her marriage to Randy Harley.  Randy was no longer in the picture, killed three years ago in a botched drug raid in Bacon County.  He was one of the criminals, and to be honest, Davis did not mourn his loss.  He was a violent man, and he was afraid for Danielle and her kids the entire time he was around.

"We're still looking into it, Sandy.  These things often take time," answered Davis.  Actually, he was confused by what the Sheriff was doing.  They had arrested Gariton Hollander for the murder, but the Sheriff was completely undisturbed by Christie Delco Hollander making the little guy's bail, and it almost seemed like Sheriff Steel was using him like a consultant.  It was a weird case, but even so, Davis regretted not being more involved.

Danielle opened up the screen door and came out to give Davis a big hug.  She was of sturdy frame, but just big, not overweight like Davis.  She could barely get her arms around Davis's girth.  She'd had a hard life, with many ups and downs, bur she retained a kind of steely beauty.  Her hair was dyed dirty blonde, and was layered and shoulder length.  She was wearing a tank top, and her upper arm tattoo of a unicorn riding a rainbow was easily seen, unlike some of her other tattoos, some of which Davis was grateful he had only heard of and had never seen.

"Well, well, hey there, baby bro!  Come to see me or Daddy?" she slyly queried.

Davis knew the right answer to this.  He had heard it often enough.  "Why, both of you, of course!"

"Well, don't just hang in the doorway!  Stop letting the flies in and come on inside!"  Even though it was only February, it had warmed up enough to turn on the flying insects.  He was grateful he wasn't out dredging the swamp right now for Kayak Kelly.

He came in and saw the Gorland twins sitting on the sofa watching TV in nothing but their underwear.  Sammy was sucking his thumb, and when Roland saw Davis out of the corner of his eye, he quickly removed his hand from his underwear.  Davis didn't even want to think about that.  They were watching Maury Povich with some neanderthalic guests getting paternity tests or something.  The caption on the screen read "Who's Your Daddy?'  Davis freely admitted he was a TVholic, but he at least did not sit around watching crap TV in his underwear.

"Hey, Roland!  Hey, Sammy!" said Davis.  The Gorland twins did not even look up from their program.  The twins were children Danielle had after her first marriage but before her second.  She insisted they have her maiden  name, so Davis could only sigh inwardly when he thought those two would be the ones to carry forward the Gorland last name.

Seated at the kitchen table were Danielle's two daughters from her first husband, Charlie Kapok.  Susi Kapok sat doing her nails, the smell of her fresh polish wafted across the trailer.  The older daughter was also there, Cissy Kapok.  Both girls were lush figures, large breasted and barely contained within their clothes.  Susi had been recently seen off and on with Bobby Ray, the injured high school quarterback, who was struggling in his recent relationship with Racine Steel.  Davis felt like Susi was a pretty girl, with some intelligence, who could achieve so much more if she just presented herself better and focused more on her schoolwork.  Anyways, she was the friendliest of the kids to him, so maybe that just made him partial to her.

Cissy was holding a baby, the most recent addition to Danielle's clan.  Little Denise Gorland, less than a year old, was being fed a bottle by Cissy.  Danielle, having birthed Denise at age 38, was tight lipped about who the father was.  Davis knew she was hanging out some with Billy Heart a year ago, but she wasn't on Maury Povich, so there would be no proving paternity tests.  Davis really didn't care for her involvement with Billy Heart, what with the slight taint of marijuana that always hung about Billy, but even Davis had to admit that Billy was not dangerous, especially when compared to Randy Harley.  Sometimes Davis wished that if Danielle just had to get involved with a Harley, she had chosen Roger instead.  Roger Harley was the Vice Principal at the high school, and had successfully risen above the violent roots of his family.  But alas, Danielle was never attracted to the responsible ones.  She had never really grown out of her bad boy stage.

He heard the toilet flush, and little three old Debbie Reese came out proudly, skipping and dancing at the brilliant job she had done, successfully using the potty.  "Mama! Mama!  I wash-ed my hands too!"  She held up her hands to her Mama.  They were still wet and dripping.

"You such a good girl!" said her mother, still holding the baby.  Debbie was a child that Cissy had when she was just sixteen.  Davis was sure whose it was, even if the world outside of the family didn't know.  It was why Davis had to come late one night and give Randy Harley an ultimatum.  Get out of the house or get arrested.  Randy left, and was killed in that drug raid three months later.

Five months into the pregnancy, Cissy married eighteen year old Eddie Reese (Skipper's older brother), claiming a prior relationship that would cover the time of the conception.  The marriage lasted only six months, and Cissy rejoined Danielle's clan.

Davis walked to the bedroom farthest from the kitchen, at the very end of the mobile home.  Danielle was sweet enough to give Daddy the master bedroom.  Daddy had his own TV back there, but most of the time he just liked listening to the family.  His vision wasn't so good, but his hearing was still sharp.  When he wasn't listening to the family, he liked to play his radio (he was a big fan of the Atlanta Braves), and an old record player he had, listening to old, scratchy LPs.

Daddy was sitting in a big old Lazy Boy lift chair.  He started to get up to greet his son, but Davis got there in time to hug Daddy before he could get up.  Daddy was on oxygen, his nose and lip slightly red from the chafing of the tubes.  "Hello, Davis!  Good to see you, son!" He looked Davis over carefully, from head to toe.  "Why, Davis, you're looking good.  I swear you've lost a few pounds!  You lose any more and you're gonna have every unhitched gal from here to Waycross coming after you!"  Daddy used to be a much heavier man, not quite Davis's weight but still two hundred or more.  Now his flesh just hung loosely, draped across his frail frame.

Davis smiled a little grin.  "Thank you, Daddy.  But I'm afraid I'm as fat as ever.  You're gonna make me worry about your eyesight!"

Daddy got Social Security and a hard earned pension from the railroad.  He gave the management of his money over to Danielle, and as far as Davis could tell, she had not abused it.  Danielle supported everyone with a mix of Social Security, Disability checks and food stamps.  He had mixed feelings about all that, but she was taking care of a lot of people, and wasn't that an important job too?  Even Sandy and Bandy Harley, as nasty as they were, contributed to the finances.  Bandy worked at the paper mill, and brought in what he could, even though he lived apart from them.  Sandy gave money from some of the odd jobs he did for the slumlord Archie Crowley (how odd Davis didn't want to look at too closely).

They talked for almost an hour, mostly about the Braves, and some inquiries about how other people he knew in Crowley were doing, about the weather, and planning a trip to go fishing soon. It was a good visit, and Davis didn't regret missing a chance to binge watch his shows. 

He gave Daddy a cautious hug, trying not to hurt him.  How many more times, Davis wondered.  How many more visits would there be?  He would strive to cherish each one.

As he hugged him, Daddy said, "Them boys is up to something."

Davis pulled back a bit, and looked at Daddy, slightly puzzled.  "What boys?"

"Sandy and Digger.  I hear them talking.  They up to something.  Something about the swamp and a project of some kind.  Something about a man that's missing.  Something about a Kayak."

Davis's blood ran cold.  "Don't worry about it, Daddy.  But if you hear anything else, let me know.  I'll take care of it."

"You a good man, Davis.  You make me proud," Daddy said.  "I know I'm an old man and it's prone to make me too mushy, but I ain't too proud to say it.  I love you, son.  God bless you.  God bless you and Danielle."

Davis said quick goodbyes to everyone else.  As he stepped out of the trailer, he spoke to Sandy and Digger.  "You boys been talking about a Kayak?  You know something you need to tell me?"

Sandy scowled.  "I don't care whether you a cop pig or not.  You got no business eavesdropping on us."

Digger tried to be more polite.  "Oh, Deputy, you know us.  We're just a crazy pair of good ol' boys.  We're just thinking about how much fun it might be to kayak out in the swamps, maybe bring a couple of wild young things with us."

Davis cleared his throat, and said as authoritatively as he could, "Now, if you boys know anything about what happened to Kayak Kelly, you need to do the right thing and come forward."

Sandy laughed, sneering, "To you, ol' Uncle Deputy Dawg?  I wouldn't tell you boo for snot.  I wouldn't give you the time of day."

Digger, the redneck diplomat, said, "Sandy's funning you.  Don't you worry, sir.  Whatever we know, you'll know."

Deputy Davis Gorland left his sister's mixed up family.  In the back of his mind he thought, maybe I have something to contribute to one of Dixon County's most baffling cases.

And if he did, would it further blast apart his fragile family?

He might not need to binge watch Breaking Bad tonight after all.  Things might be doing that already.