Isle of Dogs

Twenty-nine

Possum didn't notice the essay when it was first posted on the website because Smoke and the road dogs had returned to the RV not even an hour before, and dread had seized Possum by the back of the neck.

"I just wish you was here with me, " Possum was praying to Hoss. "I know I ain't always done the right thing, but I'm trying to now. You be sure you tell Little Joe, Mr. Cartwright-and maybe Adam, if he ain't left the show yet. Okay? If you hear me, Hoss, please round up a posse and meet me at the race. I'm real scared-the most scared I ever been in my life. I don't know, but I got a bad feeling something ain't gonna happen the way Trooper Truth thinks it will.

"And I can't stand giving up Popeye. She's the only thing warm and alive I can trust, Hoss. Think how you'd like it if you had to give away your horse or was worried a bunch of outlaws was going to ambush you when you wasn't expecting it and shoot your horse! I know Popeye don't belong to me and it ain't fair for her to be locked up in this RV. I know I gotta do the right thing. But I need some help, Hoss. "

"Now listen up, little buddy, " Hoss said as he sat high on his beloved horse. "Outlaws are outlaws, whether they're horse thieves or truck thieves, and you do gotta do the right thing. Me and Pa and Little Joe ain't sore at you, and you gotta believe that. We're mighty sore at Smoke and his pack of gun-toting outlaws, though. Each and every one of them ought to be hung from a long rope. Now you do exactly what Trooper Truth told you, and don't be scared 'cause we're pulling for ya. "

Hoss faded from Possum's mind and Possum dried his tears on the Jolly Goodwrench flag and sat up, noticing the Trooper Truth website glowing on the computer screen. He went over to his crate and clicked on the newest essay and read it with great interest, not certain but guessing what Trooper Truth had in mind. Taking a deep breath and telling Popeye to stay and be a good girl, Possum dashed out of his room and banged on Smoke's door.

"Smoke!" Possum yelled. "Smoke, get up and look at this! You won't believe it!"

Smoke was sitting cross-legged on his bed as he filled a hypodermic syringe with a poisonous mixture of solvents and rat poison that he had stolen from the hardware section of Wal-Mart when he had taken the road dogs out to find NASCAR colors.

"What the fuck do you want?" Smoke shouted at Possum. Smoke was high on beer, crack cocaine, and meanness after robbing another convenience store and discovering there was only eighty-two dollars in the cash drawer. "You seen Cat? Where the hell is Cat?" Smoke shouted again as he stuck the orange plastic cap back on the tip of the hypodermic needle.

Possum cracked open the door and peered through the space, his heart hammering.

"Smoke, I don't mean to bother you none, but there's something on the Trooper Truth web you got to see!" Possum said in a small, intimidated voice. "It's got to do with a whole lot of treasure and we can get it if we think quick. What you doing with that needle?"

Smoke jumped up from the bed, his bare chest covered with tattoos and beaded with sweat. His eyes were glassy, and the only thing worse than Smoke was Smoke when he was high and needed to sleep it off.

"Pop-eye, " Smoke said with a cruel laugh as he pretended to inject Popeye with the syringe.

"Forget the fucking dog for a minute, " Possum said, faking the bad act he had gotten fairly good at.

"Don't you fucking tell me to fucking forget anything, you little retard, " Smoke said, pointing the needle at Possum as if he might just inject him instead of Popeye. "See, this is how Smoke makes assholes pay for their sins. Right when that bitch Hammer and her fuckhead sidekick Brazil come rushing up to the pit to save the stupid dog, I whip out this syringe and inject Popeye with rat poison right in front of them. While they're busy trying to save the dog, which will instantly go into convulsions and be in terrible pain, we shoot them in the head and run for the helicopter. "

The scenario was unspeakably horrible, but Possum played up to his name and had no reaction. In fact, he looked half asleep and inattentive to everything except the opportunity to seize the Tory Treasure before anyone else got it first.

"Or if one of them fishermen gets the treasure 'fore we show up after the race, " Possum said, "then we just wait for them back on the island and blow their brains out and dump their bodies in the bay and take the prize for ourselves. And Cat will already be there with everything set up, which is why he ain't here now, and we even got our own trooper working for us, too. Man, everything's phat, Smoke, " Possum bragged.

Regina felt everything was fat, too, but not in a good way, as she made her way down to the breakfast table later that morning. She had suffered another terrible night of tire dreams and was at last facing the truth: Andy's interpretation was right. Life was passing her by. She was disgustingly fat and had a rotten personality. For the first time in her life, Regina's conscience stirred and she felt a twinge of shame and regret.

"Good morning, " Pony said as Regina sullenly pulled out a chair and plopped down in it.

"Are you telling me it is or wishing it or just saying words that are meaningless?" Regina muttered, eyeing the steaming food Pony was setting on the table.

"Seems like a good morning to me, " Pony replied cheerfully. "I'm on my way to being a free man, Miss Reginia! Only thing is"-he served scrambled eggs and link sausage on a plate shining with the gold Commonwealth of Virginia seal-"turns out I been in prison three years longer than I was s'posed to be 'cause of that Mr. Trader. Seems he did some messing with certain officials 'cause he didn't want me let out. "

Regina stared at her food and realized with surprise that she wasn't hungry. She couldn't remember the last time she hadn't been hungry, unless it was when she had been sped to the hospital after eating Trader's poisoned Toll House cookies. But her loss of appetite then had been transient and medically based and couldn't be related to her present condition.

"You aren't eating, Miss Reginia, " Pony worried, standing across the table from her in his stiff white jacket, a linen napkin draped over an arm.

"You shouldn't have been in prison, anyway, " Regina surprised herself by kindly saying. "I've never seen you do anything wrong and have never been afraid of you. "

"Why, thank you, Miss Reginia. " Pony smiled but was puzzled. He was unaccustomed to Regina's having any opinion about his welfare or even noticing that he might have a life of his own. "I 'preciate that, and I think I can help you with Trip. What it's looking like is, he only respond to one- or two-word commands. If you start trying to conversate with him, he gets confused and don't listen. "

Regina perked up a bit.

"How 'bout I write up a list of commands and maybe you can help out with him at the race tonight?" Pony suggested. "I been reading some of the papers the trainer left, and that little fella is quite the traveler. All you gotta do is put a diaper on him and you can stick him right in the limo or helichopper. My wife's down in the laundry room this very minute fixing a fancy blanket with the Comm'wealth of Virginia seal on it that he can wear under his harness. "

Regina's mood continued to improve, as if anger and depression had been a stationary front all of her life and suddenly the oppressive, solid layer of unhappiness was moving away. She thought of Andy and his lecturing her about showing compassion, and she rehearsed an empathic line or two in her head as Pony continued to tell her about Trip's being housebroken and how to put on his tennis shoes and that he liked to snuggle when he wasn't working.

"I'm glad Papa's straightening out your prison mess, " Regina repeated what she had rehearsed several times in her mind. "But I hope you'll still work for us, Pony, even if you don't have to anymore. "

Pony was startled and wondered if Regina had a fever. She did look a little pale this morning and wasn't touching her food, and it sure wasn't like her to be nice.

"I would like it a lot if you wrote down that list of commands for me. " Regina continued to baffle Pony with kindness. "Papa will need some help with Trip at the race, and I want to make sure I know everything I should. I'm glad Papa has a Seeing Eye horse. Maybe he won't need all those magnifying glasses anymore. "

Regina got up from the table and neatly folded her napkin as Pony looked at her as if she had magically turned into someone else.

"Thank you, Miss Reginia, " Pony said. "I'll make you that list and maybe show you a few things, if you want. "

"Thank you, Pony, " Regina said as she headed upstairs to her parents' master suite.

The First Lady was seated at her ornate Chinese desk, scrolling through something on the Internet, her attention rapt.

"Where's Papa?" Regina asked, pulling up a chair to see what her mother was so engrossed in.

"I believe he's in the garden with the pony, " Mrs. Crimm said, tapping the down arrow.

"We shouldn't refer to Trip as a pony, " Regina replied in an unusually thoughtful tone. "He's a minihorse, not a pony, and when Papa starts calling out pony this and pony that, Pony thinks he's talking to him and gets confused and it probably hurts his feelings, too. "

The First Lady gave Regina a perplexed glance and said, "Well, I suppose you're right. You seem in a strangely pleasant mood this morning. I don't believe I've ever seen you like this. Are you sick?"

"I don't know what's wrong, " Regina said, staring over her mother's shoulder at what appeared to be a new essay by Trooper Truth. "But I dreamed about tires again, Mama, and it started me thinking about what Andy said to me on the way to the morgue. Then I started thinking about the morgue, too, and wondering if I would have ended up there if I'd eaten any more of those cookies Major Trader tried to hurt Papa with. And suddenly I started feeling a little bit of hope. You know, I've never thought there was any hope. "

"Of course there's hope, dear, " Mrs. Crimm absently said as she wondered if those Tangier watermen would indeed find the Tory Treasure, which most certainly would include trivets from raided plantations-not that she assumed pirates used trivets, but they might have. Certainly, they cooked on their ships, and it would make sense to set a hot pot on a trivet to prevent wooden surfaces in the galley from getting burned.

"How long do you suppose a trivet could be on the bottom of the bay before it would rust away?" she questioned out loud as she peered through antique wire-rimmed glasses that were attached to a long, gold chain. "You should read this. It's quite interesting, about an old piece of iron that most likely will lead to the Tory Treasure, and I'm assuming if a piece of iron would still be intact after hundreds of years of being under water, then why wouldn't a trivet fare just as well? Many of them are iron.

"But I must say, your papa's not going to be pleased when I read this to him. I can't imagine he won't insist that the Commonwealth is the rightful owner of the treasure. It doesn't matter who Wheelin' Bone stole it from. What right does North Carolina have to anything found in the Chesapeake Bay? What matters is that the treasure is here in Virginia and therefore belongs to Virginia, and therefore any trivets found should be given to the mansion. "

Regina got up to take a closer look at what her mother was reading. Although Regina had always been a strong advocate for finders-keepers, she wasn't so sure what she thought in this case. If the Islanders found the treasure and did whatever they wanted to with it, then the rest of the world would never have the pleasure of viewing old cannons and coins and jewels in the Virginia Museum.

"Those old cannons and jewels should be shared, " Regina said as two sets of sneakers accompanied by slippered feet sounded behind them.

"What?" the governor posed his usual question as he caught the tail end of Regina and Mrs. Crimm's conversation. "Go ahead and keep walking, " he said to Trip, who was already going ahead and didn't need to be told.

"Papa, I think he does better if you use fewer words, " Regina tried to help.

"Okay, " the governor considered, and the word okay released Trip from any commands and he came to a standstill near the First Lady's black-lacquered, mother-of-pearl-inlaid desk. "I didn't tell you to stop, but that's what I wanted you to do, " the governor chatted on to his minihorse and fondly rubbed his soft nose. "I think he understands far more than you might imagine, Regina. "

"He might, " she replied, "but what he understands and what you want him to do may be two different things. "

"I see. What's this about cannons and jewels that should be shared?" the governor inquired as he dipped into a robe pocket for his magnifying glass, because no matter how much help the guide horse might prove to be, it could not assist Crimm with reading.

Regina paraphrased Trooper Truth's essay and again offered her opinion that the treasure should not be squandered by whoever finds it, but should be shared with the public.

"As long as certain pieces would come to the mansion, " the First Lady was quick to add.

"Maybe a cannon or two in the garden and out front, " the governor considered, and his spleen was acting up a bit at the thought of that damnable state of North Carolina. "As awful as that pirate Wheland was, he's part of Virginia history, and I'll be damned if those watermen are going to get the treasure first and sell it to some antique dealer or, worse, to North Carolina. "

"Oh, Bedford, " Mrs. Crimm pleaded, "you must do something right away, before it's too late! Can't you send in an aircraft carrier or something, so those Tangier people don't haul all of the treasure away? They have no right to it!"

"No, they don't, " Regina agreed, and it was the first time she had not been in concert with what Trooper Truth had to say. "How weird, " she added. "Whose side is Trooper Truth on, anyway? He's always made sense in the past and been on the side of truth and justice. "

"He could very well be in collusion with Tangier Island and is trying to influence me to let them have the treasure, " said the governor, who was seeing matters far more clearly since he had stopped listening to Trader and eating his sweets. "I'll issue a press release immediately that warns all treasure hunters to stay clear of that crab pot with the yellow buoy, " the governor declared. "Let those fishermen just try to go near that sunken ship and think they're going to"-he patted Trip's neck-"load up. Right, little fella?"

Trip pulled away from his owner and headed toward the elevator and then took a right.

"Right!" Regina said, proud of her father's power and decisiveness, while Trip made another right and stopped before his reflection in a gilt Chippendale mirror.

"How far down do you think it is?" the First Lady pondered as she imagined chests of gold, family silver, and jewelry fit for a queen.

"Down?" Regina puzzled. "How far down what is?" she asked as Trip lay down in front of the mirror and continued to stare at himself, a bit puzzled.

"Based on the location in this Trooper Truth propaganda, " the governor replied, "I'd say the treasure's down pretty deep, because it's in the crab sanctuary, which is in a trough of the bay, if I'm not mistaken. "

"Well, that's good, " the First Lady said with relief. "The deeper the better, because it will make it all that much more difficult to find. I doubt those Tangier people have the proper gear to dive down and bring a big cannon to the surface. Why, it would sink one of their little boats. "

Within the hour, news of the Tory Treasure screamed over the wire and blared over televisions and radios throughout Virginia, the U. S., and in particular, bombarded North Carolina. Commentators speculated that the people of Tangier would be excited into a furious frenzy because of the governor's order that any waterman seen within five miles of the crab pot with its yellow buoy would be arrested by the Coast Guard, which had rushed to patrol that area of the bay. Treasure hunters and their vessels were on notice that they would be seized, the airspace between the Virginia coast and Tangier was restricted to all except authorized aircraft, and Naval vessels were preparing to form a blockade around the island.

Fonny Boy and Dr. Faux heard the news over the car radio after posting bond and leaving Richmond as quickly as possible. They sped toward Reedville, where the dentist intended to hop on the mailboat and bribe the captain to help them find the crab pot Fonny Boy had dropped in the water.

"The Coast Guard won't be suspicious of the mailboat, " the dentist reasoned as Fonny Boy stared tensely out the window, watching telephone poles fly by.

"That's poor! It ain't fittin'! The treasure, it's mine!" Fonny Boy said every other minute.

"We'll split it fifty-fifty, " Dr. Faux reminded him. "You owe me for bond and whatever I end up paying the mail-boat captain. We'll need gear, too, which will be expensive. There's a bait and tackle shop near where the mailboat docks, but we've got to hurry, and for God's sake, don't do anything to cause trouble, Fonny Boy. If the police know we've left Richmond, we'll be arrested again for jumping bail, and then the judge is really going to throw the book at us. "

"They wouldn't do nothing to us!" Fonny Boy's backward talk meant that if they got caught while finding the treasure, they were really in trouble this time.

"And if the mailboat gets seized, who cares?" Dr. Faux replied. "It doesn't belong to us. If questioned, we'll just blame everything on the captain and say that we boarded the boat to mail a few letters and dental bills back to the island, and next thing we knew, the boat was speeding toward the treasure before we had a chance to get off. "

"No!" Fonny Boy excitedly meant the opposite.

Major Trader and his cellmates learned the news, too, because one of the guards had a habit of wearing a Walkman with the sound turned up so loud prisoners could hear every tune, advertisement, and news release that leaked from his headset.

"Now listen here, " Trader said. "Instead of wasting all your time trying to drown me in the toilet, let's band together. If we can figure a way out of here, we can find that treasure first. "

"You think so?" Slim Jim asked with nagging doubt. "I mean, even if we could get outta here, how we gonna find that crab pot and then haul all the treasure outta the bottom of the bay?"

"I can't swim, " Snitch added.

"Uh uh, I never could swim, " Stick confessed.

"You don't have to swim, you idiots!" Trader impatiently replied.

He had traded beds with the Mexican boy because if there was one thing Trader understood, it was office psychology. His maxim was fairly simple. If you wanted to feign friendship and sympathy, you sat the person you wished to manipulate in a nice living area with nothing between the two of you but a coffee table. If the objective was to intimidate, you sat at your desk, which became an imposing barrier between you and the individual you intended to terrorize. If you wished to confuse and humiliate, which had always been his preferred tactic with the governor, you poisoned the person with Ex-Lax and then insisted on having important discussions while walking through buildings or driving.

The Mexican boy's steel bed, as it turned out in the light of morning, was in the center of the cell. By appropriating it while he was using the toilet, Trader had gained the leadership role he wanted, although the other cellmates weren't sure why they suddenly viewed him with a bit more respect. Realizing the power of violent gastric attacks, Trader directed that when the guard was strolling past, on cue Reverend Justice would double over in agony and make loud moans and shrieks while the other cellmates gathered around him in a panic and screamed for help and shouted for everyone to give him air.

"The guard will burst inside the cell to render aid, " Trader explained. "And when he does, you"-he said to Stick-"poke him in the eye, and you"-he said to Cat- "grab his radio, and you"-he said to Slim Jim-"grab his keys so you can unlock all the doors, and you"-he pointed to the Mexican boy-"put your finger in your pocket and pretend it's a gun and start threatening to shoot because no one in this place understands Spanish, and you"-he nodded at Snitch-"stay right here in the cell and when questioned later, claim that our jailbreak was an inside job and you overheard us saying we were escaping in an awaiting getaway car that was taking us to Charlotte. "

"But we don't got no getaway car, " Stick said, and he didn't like the thought of sticking his finger in anybody's eye.

"That's where you come in, " Trader said to Reverend Justice. "The guards treat you far more respectfully than the rest of us and have even asked you religious questions and told you to pray for their various problems. I fully believe that if you ask to use the pay phone because one of your parishioners is dying and needs last rites over the phone, the guard will give in. "

"Baptists don't do last rites, " the reverend protested. "And I'm not so sure I want any part of this. I'm already in a world of trouble for trying to solicitate that old Clot woman. "

They fell silent as the guard with the headset loudly passed by, his eyes glazed as he snapped his fingers and hummed to a rap tune.

"When you use the pay phone, " Trader resumed, "you call someone of lesser intelligence who works for you and is submissive and naive, and order that person to pick you up on the street. Just say you'll have a few friends along for the ride, and then we'll get the hell out of town. In the immense unlikelihood that we're apprehended, I'll just claim that you were abducted and had nothing to do with the plan. "

Reverend Justice was a little more at ease when Trader put it to him that way. After all, Reverend Pontius Justice was a local celebrity who had devoted his life to saving souls and stopping crime. Even if he released his pent-up needs of the flesh now and then by picking up ladies of the night, he always paid them and gave thanks.

Andy had yet to receive any thanks from Hammer, and it was getting on his nerves that all she seemed interested in was pacing the carpet in her headquarters office and complaining.

"You should have run this by me first, " she kept saying behind the closed door, even though there were very few people at headquarters on a Saturday morning. "For God's sake, Andy, where was your brain when'you wrote all this nonsense about a so-called Tory Treasure? Look at what you've stirred up! By encouraging the Islanders to seize the alleged loot because it's rightfully theirs, you have succeeded in prompting the governor to issue threats and send out the military. If there wasn't a civil war before, there certainly will be one now. And frankly,

I'm in agreement with the governor. The Islanders do not have a right to the treasure. It belongs in a museum. "

"That's what I'm trying to tell you, "Andy tried to get through to her. "My only intention was to cause everyone to think everybody else is trying to take something away from them. And in order to make Tangier Island really angry at Virginia, it was necessary for me to excite Virginia into being really pissed off at the island. Then, when Macovich arrives tonight in a state police helicopter filled with NASCAR guys who are really Smoke and his road dogs, just what sort of reception do you think they'll be greeted with? Our undercover troopers will hardly be needed. "

"You're making no sense and you're scaring me!" Hammer blurted out. "And I thought the entire point of Trooper Truth was to always tell the truth. It seems to me in these latest essays all you're doing is manipulating everyone, even if it's for a good cause. Or even if you mean it as a good cause. Damn it! I'm so confused. "

"I understand exactly how you feel, " Andy said. "I promise I know what I'm doing. We both know how ruthless and dangerous Smoke is. If that helicopter sets down on the island and he sees the first hint of people who don't exactly look like watermen, even if they're dressed like them, he very well may open fire the minute he steps out on the airstrip. We've got to introduce an element of surprise to make him pause just long enough for us to surround him and take him down without incident. "

"Let's get on with this and mobilize the troops, " Hammer decided. "The governor will just have to return by car to the mansion after the race. You and I are flying the helicopter to Tangier Island to see what we can do to bring closure to this mess. And by the way, what makes you think a Tory Treasure really is in the bay?"

"I don't necessarily think it, " Andy replied. "But that old piece of iron clearly came from a battle, possibly involving pirates. And that Tory turncoat Joseph Wheland certainly must have amassed a fortune during all of his years of plundering plantations and other ships, so what happened to all of his loot?"

Barbie Fogg had never been on a real plantation, but she got a sense of what that might be like when she pulled up to the front gates of the governor's mansion at noon, just in time to see a very odd sight.

Two powerfully built EPU troopers were shoveling woodchips into the back of a long, black limousine. Barbie drove through the opening gates and parked on the circular driveway. She collected her makeover products, which fit nicely in a large toolbox, and grabbed a bag of clothes out of the trunk.

"What are you doing?" she asked the troopers. "I don't mean to pry, but why are you piling all these woodchips on the back floor of this beautiful limo? Are you planning to plant flowers inside? If so, I think that's a wonderful idea. Then the governor can ride around in a garden. "

The troopers sternly replied that the information was classified, and then the mansion's front door opened and a black butler in a stiffly pressed white jacket greeted Barbie with a smile.

"Do come in, " he warmly said. "Miss Reginia is expecting you. Here, let me take your coat, and can I help you with your toolbox?"

"Thank you, " Barbie said, slipping out of her coat and revealing a rather sexy tight leather outfit that did not seem in keeping with her daintiness or soft voice. "I need the toolbox and the bag so I can work on Regina. "

Pony knew that Regina's appearance required a lot of work, but it saddened him to think things had deteriorated to the point that tools were required. He escorted Barbie up the winding staircase to the First Family's private quarters, where Regina was rummaging through her bedroom closet, pulling out painter's paints and sweatshirts and getting increasingly discouraged.

"Oh!" she said with relief when Barbie walked in and set the toolbox and bag on the bed. "I'm so glad you're here! I can't find anything to wear and I looked in the mirror a little earlier and scared myself. Do you really think you can make me pretty in time for the race?"

"Of course I do, " Barbie assured her as she looked out the window at the EPU troopers shoveling more wood-chips into the limousine.

"That's for Trip's trip, " Regina explained.

"Trip-trip?" Barbie was baffled. "What's a trip-trip?"

"No, Trip's trip, not trip-trip, " Regina said. "Trip's Papa's new little minihorse that's specially trained to guide blind people. Papa has to take him everywhere he goes, you see, and since I'm supervising, I did a little research on the subject and found out that minihorses do better in the car if they have woodchips. "

She paused to see if Barbie understood the point. Barbie didn't.

"Sort of like being in a stall, " Regina offered a hint. "You know, like a litter box. "

"Oh, " Barbie said in amazement. "And here I was thinking they were planting a nice little mobile garden. Silly me. But I would think if a little horse does his business inside a limo-woodchips or not-it might prove a little unpleasant for whoever else is riding along. "

"Horse doo-doo doesn't smell as bad as dog doo-doo, " Regina reminded Barbie. "And the minute Trip uses the bathroom, you just scoop woodchips over it and you don't even know it's there. "

"Then what happens when you get up in the governor's box at the race?" Barbie worried as she opened the toolbox and began to arrange bottles of foundation, blemish cover-up, nail polish, hair treatments, and dyes, along with dozens of other cosmetics, on top of an antique walnut high chest.

"If he needs to go out, he'll paw the door, " Regina replied. "Then I'll take him down in the elevator and find a patch of grass somewhere. What are the scissors for? Are you going to cut my hair?"

Barbie told Regina to sit in the Shaker rocker and be still for a moment. Barbie circled her most challenging project, taking in the overall scene and deciding that Regina's long frizzy dark hair with its split ends had to go.

"Let me see your teeth, " Barbie said.

Regina opened her mouth wide and curled back her lips, revealing yellowing teeth that, ironically, could very well belong to a minihorse, Barbie thought.

"I brought some tooth bleach, " she said with more optimism than she felt. "So let's put the bleach on now and give it a chance to at least begin working. As for your hair, dear, it has no color at all, really. I suppose it's sort of a brindle-a splotchy mix of brown and black. And I think the solution is to dye it black and cut it just below your ears, layering it, of course, and this will help to soften your nose and chin.

"I also thought to bring along a nice tanning solution that you'll put on after your salt scrub, Dead Sea soak, manicure, pedicure, and mud mask. You'll turn a nice golden brown without exposing your skin to even one ray of damaging sun. Isn't that exciting?"

Regina wasn't sure. For one thing, she had not anticipated that Barbie might expect Regina to strip completely naked and allow an almost-stranger to rub salt, mud, and lotions all over Regina's corpulent body.

"Now, I know what you're thinking, " Barbie said as she draped a towel around Regina's neck and began snipping away huge clumps of hair that reminded Barbie of tumbleweeds in old Westerns she sometimes watched with Lennie. "I'm aware from our counseling session that you have a very poor self-image and hate your body, and probably are just a wee bit nervous about being naked and having things rubbed, peeled, scraped, and scrubbed over every inch of you, but you'll be fine and just so pleased when you see the result. "

"Nothing you scrub me with will get rid of all this fat, " Regina candidly pointed out as more hair tumbled across the floor. Under ordinary circumstances, the idea of having her body so completely manipulated would have been secretly pleasant.

But Barbie Fogg wasn't Regina's type. Not at all. Barbie wasn't robust enough and struck Regina as the sort who could probably touch and knead another woman all day long and experience not the slightest tingle or desire for more. Regina doubted that Barbie had much interest in anything physical from anyone, and in that regard was probably similar to Regina's mother, who for as long as Regina could remember had been far more interested in collectibles, such as cast-iron banks, old coffee and tobacco cans, and trivets, than in wild, erotic same-sex or opposite-sex or even self-sex.

"We'll start you on a diet immediately, " Barbie said as she snipped, snipped. "Which means you'll need to stay clear of the buffet tables at the race, okay? A nice salad, and lots of celery, carrots, and radishes will have to tide you over, but in the meantime, don't be so negative. You know what they say, clothes are a girl's best friend, and I went to the trouble to pop by a sweet little boutique and pick out something just perfect for you. "

"What?" Regina was almost afraid to ask as Barbie began to layer strands of hair with a razor.

"Oh, it's just the cutest thing. To die for, really. I intuited what you might feel comfortable in and what suits your overall face, figure, and personality, and came up with this simply perfect denim outfit! I couldn't believe it when I found it! Now, hold still and try not to rock. Such a lovely rocking chair, by the way, but I don't want to cut you with the razor as I shave the back of your neck before we do a nice waxing of your upper lip and chin, and maybe clean up your eyebrows and sideburns.

"Anyway, what I found is a pair of stonewashed overalls that have a cute skirt instead of pants, and you can wear it with this darling long-sleeved silk shirt that's designed to look like a lumberman's shirt, only it's got a lace collar and will show off your bust, which will really be enhanced by the push-up bra I found. I had to guess, but you look like a forty-four D, am I right?"

"I don't usually wear a bra, " Regina replied through a shower of shredded hair. "I hate bras and wear undershirts most of the time because nobody really sees me through sweatshirts, anyway. "

"Well, people will certainly see you tonight, " Barbie cheerfully piped. "You'll have so much cleavage you could pack a picnic in it! As for shoes, because no outfit is complete without them, I found an adorable pair of bright red patent leather high-top tennis shoes. Can you imagine? They have a Converse seal on the ankles made out of sequins, and white leather laces, and you'll wear them with designer socks that are supposed to look like old-fashioned tube socks, but these are made of silk! Now let me guess, your shoe size is a twelve? And your dress size is a sixteen?"

"Men's or women's?" Regina asked, holding very still as Barbie worked away with the razor, cleaning up the back of Regina's neck. "I always wear men's stuff, so I don't know what size I wear in women's. "

"Don't you worry for a minute. I'm very good at guessing people's sizes, " Barbie promised as she stepped back to admire her work. "I suppose it's because, as a professional counselor, I have to be good at sizing people up. There. "

Barbie held a hand mirror so Regina could admire her new hair style.

"I don't know, " Regina said with misgivings. "It's shaped exactly like one of those helmets the race-car drivers wear. "

"The newest rage, " Barbie beamed. "It's called a NASCOIF Isn't that just too chic? And you'd pay a pretty penny if you got one in a salon, assuming you could get an appointment or even on a waiting list during the race season. "

"If it's so chic, then why don't you have a NASCOIF?" Regina wanted to know.

"Oh, my features are far too delicate, " Barbie said. "Now let's get you in the tub. "