Wilt in Nowhere

Chapter 8

Eva was not having a wonderful time. What she was going through was keeping her wide awake with worry half the night. After the effusive greetings at the airport from Uncle Wally and Auntie Joan and their delight at seeing the quads again, they had driven out to the private jet bearing the logo of Immelmann Enterprises and had climbed aboard. The jet had been cleared for take-off and presently they were flying west towards Wilma. Below them the landscape was dotted with lakes and rivers and after a while they were over woods and hills, with signs of habitation few and far between. The quads peered out of the windows and to satisfy their curiosity. Uncle Wally put the jet into a dive and levelled out quite low down so that they could see the ground even better. Eva, who wasn’t accustomed to flying and had never been up in a small plane before, felt queasy and frightened. But at least the girls were enjoying the ride and Uncle Wally was enjoying showing off his flying skills to them.

‘She isn’t as fast as the jets I flew in the Air Force out of Lakenheath, England,’ he said, ‘but she’s good and manoeuvrable and she covers the ground fast enough for an old man like me.’

‘Oh, shoot, honey, you ain’t old,’ Auntie Joan said. ‘I don’t like you using that word. Everybody’s just as old as they feel and the way you feel, Wally, feels pretty good and young to me. How’s Henry these days, Eva?’

‘Oh, Henry’s just fine,’ said Eva, readily adapting to American.

‘Henry’s a great guy,’ said Wally. ‘You got the makings of a great man there, Evie, you know that? I guess you girls are mighty proud of your daddy, eh? Having a daddy who’s a professor is really something.’

Penelope began the process of disillusionment.

‘Dad’s not ambitious,’ she said. ‘He drinks too much.’

Wally said nothing but the plane dipped a little.

‘A guy’s got a right to a little liquor after a hard day’s work,’ he said. ‘That’s what I always say, isn’t it, Joanie honey?’

Auntie Joan’s smile suggested that that was indeed exactly what he always said. It also suggested disapproval.

‘I gave up smoking though,’ Wally said. ‘Man, that stuff kills you and no mistake. Feel a hundred and ten per cent better since I quit.’

‘Dad’s taken up smoking again,’ Samantha told him. ‘He smokes a pipe because he says everyone is against smoking and no one is going to tell him what to do and what not to do.’

The plane dipped again.

‘He really says that? Henry really says that? That no one is going to tell him what not to do?’ said Wally, glancing nervously over his shoulder at the two women. ‘Would you credit that? And he ain’t much to look at manhoodwise either.’

‘Wally!’ said Auntie Joanie and there was no mistaking her meaning.

‘And you stop speaking about Daddy like that,’ Eva told Samantha with equal firmness.

‘Hell, I didn’t mean nothing by it,’ said Wally. ‘Manhood is just an expression.’

‘Yeah, and yours isn’t anything to write home about either,’ said Auntie Joanie. ‘Cracks like that just aren’t called for.’

Uncle Wally said nothing. They flew on and finally Josephine spoke up.

‘Boys aren’t the only people with manhoods,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a sort of manhood too. It’s not a very big one though. It’s called a–’

‘Shut up!’ Eva shouted. ‘We don’t want to hear. Do you hear me, Josephine? Nobody’s interested.’

‘But Miss Sprockett said it was quite normal and some women prefer–’ A swift cuff from Eva ended this exposition of Miss Sprockett’s opinion of the function of the clitoris in one-to-one encounters between women. All the same it was clear that Uncle Wally was still interested.

‘Gee, Miss Sprockett? That’s some name for a woman.’

‘She’s our biology teacher and she’s not like most women,’ Samantha told him. ‘She believes in practising masturbation. She says it’s safer than having sex with men.’

This time there could be no doubting Wally’s shock or the aerodynamic effect of Eva’s sudden attempt to reach Samantha and shut her up. As the plane lurched, Wally fought to control it and wasn’t helped by the blow on the side of his head intended for Samantha who had seen it coming and had ducked.

‘Shit!’ shouted Wally. ‘For Chrissake everyone sit still. You want to ditch this kite?’

Even Auntie Joanie was alarmed. ‘Eva, do sit down!’ she yelled.

Eva sat back in her seat with a grim look on her face. Everything she had hoped to prevent was beginning to happen. She sat looking lividly at Samantha and willed her to go dumb at least temporarily. She was going to have to give the quads a good talking-to. For the rest of the flight there was a grim silence in the aircraft and an hour later they touched down at the little airfield at Wilma. The Immelmann Enterprises stretch limo in red and gold was waiting for them. So, discreetly hidden in an unmarked car, were two men from the Drug Enforcement Agency who watched as the Wilt children climbed out of the plane. In the back sat a local cop.

‘You reckon?’

‘Could be. Sam said they were in the same row ‘longside the guy Sol Campito. Who’s the fat guy?’

‘Hell, that’s Wally Immelmann. Runs the biggest plant in Wilma.’

‘Anything on him? Like he’s done time inside.’

‘On Wally? Hell no, he’s clean as you can be in his business,’ said the cop. ‘Solid citizen. Pays his dues. Votes Republican and subscribes to everything he can. Backed Herb Reich for Congress.’

‘So that makes him clean?’

‘I didn’t say he was clean as a hound’s tooth. Just that he’s a big wheel round these parts. I don’t see him into drug running.’

‘Just another fucking good ole boy? That right?’ said the DEA man who was clearly not a Southerner.

‘I guess so. I don’t mix in those circles. I mean, man, that’s money.’

‘And how’s his business doing right now?’

‘Same as everything in Wilma. Pretty average, I guess. I don’t know. He downsized last year but the latest is he’s diversifying into things outside vacuum pumps.’

‘So he could be…Shit, look at the one with the obesity problem.’

‘That’s his wife, Mrs Immelmann,’ said the cop.

‘Yeah, well it would be, wouldn’t it? Who’s the other one needs liposuction?’

The second DEA man checked the file.

‘Name of Wilt, Mrs Eva Wilt, mother of the four pack, 45 Oakhurst Avenue, Ipford, England. Want to put out a check call on her?’

‘They were in the same row with Sol. Could be he was the decoy. Yeah, call Atlanta and they can decide.’

They watched as the limo drove off. After it had gone the local cop got out and drove down to the Sheriff’s office.

‘What’s with those drug-busting shits?’ asked the Sheriff who resented Northerners almost as much as he resented being bossed around by the Feds. ‘Come marching into Wilma like they own the whole fucking place.’

‘You ain’t going to believe this. They got Wally Immelmann tagged for a drug dealer.’

The Sheriff stared at him. The man was right. He didn’t believe him.

‘Wally into running drugs? You got to be joking! Oh my God, they must be out of their fucking heads. If Wally got to hear he was on a fucking dealer suspicion list he’d go apeshit. Would he ever. Like we got Mount St Helens volcano right here in Wispoen County spewing brimstone. Jesus.’ He stopped and pondered for a moment. ‘What evidence they got?’

‘The fatso with the four girls. Dogs picked them out at the airport. And Wally is moving into pharmaceuticals. It fits.’

‘And the woman? Why not hold her for questioning?’

‘I don’t know. Wanted to see her contact, I guess. British. Name of Wilt.’

The Sheriff groaned.

‘Where those two goons from, Herb?’ he said presently.

‘Unit down Atlanta. They–’

‘I got that already. Like, where are they from? What’s their names and their home towns?’

‘Don’t give no names, Sheriff. Flash their IDs and credentials from Drug Enforcement and come to the high and mighty. Those boys in that game don’t have real names. Not good for their health, I’ve heard. Got numbers. One’s from New Jersey, that I do know.’

‘New Jersey? So how come the Yankee’s doing duty down South? Don’t trust us local cops?’

‘They don’t do that, and that’s for sure. Wanted to know if Mr Immelmann was a good ole boy like it was a dirty word.’

‘Said that, did they?’ said the Sheriff grimly. ‘Nice manners these Northern assholes have got. Come on down and think they run the place.’

‘And the other one…name of Palowski, yeah that’s right. I saw that much. He said Mrs Immelmann was so fat she should be into liposuction. Like that was a dirty word too.’

‘It is,’ said the Sheriff. ‘OK, OK. They want to walk into a fire-storm with Wally Immelmann, I’m not going to stop them. They’re on their own from now on. We just say Yessir and Nossir and let the bastards fuck up real good.’

‘No co-operation, sir?’

The Sheriff sat back in his chair and smiled meaningfully.

‘Let’s just say we let them draw their own conclusions. Ain’t our asses going to be gored if they hit Wally. Good ole boy indeed. I reckon he’ll good ole boy them so fast they won’t have time to shit themselves.’