THE CORRISVILLE BARBECUE WASHOUT        Betty McCloud glanced at the skies, thrust hands on hips. ‘There’s thunder in the air, fine time for a storm…’    Debbie Langton listened, heard a rumble in the distance. The sky was heavy – ‘Yeah, the great Corrisville barbecue washout….’    ‘Let’s hope not,’ Betty said grimly, ‘I’m quite looking forward to this – it’s not often we get all Corrisville’s various factions coming together.’    Debbie scoffed, watched the riggers inspecting the marques and the first of the Corrisville community beginning to arrive, ‘They don’t come together Miss, they form little cliques, you should know that.’    ‘Oh I do, Debbie, oh I do.’ Betty cupped her chin, ‘That’s the intriguing part, on the face of it Corrisville is just friendly, small town USA, but there are strange associations in this town, hiding some dark secrets – what I wouldn’t give to uncover them…’    ‘And I guess you’re gonna do just that…’ Debbie grinned, revealing the small gap between her front teeth, ‘there’s a few people running scared of you right now Miss.’    Betty smiled, said nothing, but Debbie reckoned there was plenty running through her mind.    Sideways on, she ran her eyes surreptitiously over her favourite teacher. Dressed in sleeveless white top and shorts, so different to her normal school attire, she could see in just what terrific shape Miss McCloud was in. She was damned pretty, she’d even heard school bully Dolly Bamber grudgingly accept that, but her tanned body was packed with muscle and during encounters with Corrisville’s more unruly elements her strength had sent shock waves through them – even, she knew – through the more respected members of Corrisville’s community. It had even gained her the coveted country club golf championship.  Debbie knew little of Miss McCloud’s background, doubted that anyone did, but she’d sure caused a few tremors during the three years she’d been in Corrisville.    Betty had the feeling she was being sized up, but something else had caught her eye. At the top of the field, bordered by the woods which surrounded Corrisville, a temporary stand for a rock band had been erected. The band was setting up and passing right in front of them she glimpsed the Bamber brothers, Johnny and Tommy, along with sister Dolly.    She fumed; just two short months ago the brothers had been sentenced to two years in jail for waging a campaign against her, a campaign in which they’d held Debbie captive. It hadn’t worked, she’d managed to overpower them and free Debbie, but why were they out so soon? And although from the distance she couldn’t read her eyes – Betty could swear that Dolly, who’d somehow, managed to evade any charges - and not for the first time – was goading her.    Debbie had seen the big muscles tense in Betty’s arms and followed the direction of her eyes – ‘Aren’t they supposed to be locked up, Miss?’    ‘Out on parole Debbie, just two months down the line from all that trouble we had – should have been two solid years – someone pulled a few strings, I’d like to know why and how.’    Amongst the folk filtering through a clearing in the woods Debbie noticed two more familiar faces and clutched her teacher’s arm, ‘Hey look, over there – Henry Freeman and Sheriff Gater.’       Betty narrowed her eyes – Henry Freeman, co-director of the country club, he’d tried to prevent her from winning the prestigious golf tournament but had failed – mainly because of the intervention of fellow director Ted Hanson, a man she respected. Why, precisely Freeman had it in for her she wasn’t sure. There were people in Corrisville who resented her power and strength, and she counted him amongst them. Rudi Gater in his cowboy boots and wide brimmed hat was the Corrisville sheriff, but a sequence of events, including delayed attendance at a ram-raid on the country club led her to suspect he was in someone’s pocket. Could that someone be Freeman?    ‘Showing off your impressive physique to the full I see?’    Betty turned, looked into the hawkish eyes of Alma Phipps; there was slight amusement on her thin face but Betty sensed irritation beneath.    Phipps was Corrisville’s head teacher, who tolerated Dolly Bamber’s bullying activities and placed obstacles in the way of any attempt she made to discipline her. Indeed, Betty had been admonished, accused of using her physique to intimidate and overawe pupils, Dolly in particular; a false accusation but typical of the woman’s vindictive nature. It came as no surprise to her when Phipps had been voted onto Corrisville’s events committee thus joining Freeman and Gater.    ‘It’s summer, Mrs. Phipps,’ Betty said curtly, ‘and these are summer clothes.’    ‘Yes, well…’ Phipps looked down her long nose, seemed about to say something else then brushed past.    A deep breath restored Betty’s composure, while in the distance thunder rumbled louder.    Betty glanced at her watch, the place was filling up; the smell of charcoal, lamb, T-bones punctured the heavy air, along with the first drop of rain.    She urged Debbie to join her schoolmates on their group of tables and then took a seat alongside fellow teachers across from the main platform consisting of Phipps, Freeman and Gater. Thunder ripped the air again but there was an underlying tension of a human kind along with it. Betty could feel its spreading tentacles. Sure, there was laughter, gaiety, clapping and dancing to the band as the event got underway – food and drink in abundance, but the parties that interested her – the likes of Freeman, Gater, Phipps, and the Bamber family, seemed to have a pre-occupation of some kind; there were frequent glances between the trio, and then down towards where the Bamber’s sat, their customary belligerence missing.    Betty switched her gaze back to Sheriff Gater, if the other looked tense, he looked downright worried.    What about?    A group of new arrivals crossed the park, seemed undecided where to sit and hovered a moment, obscuring the Bamber trio from her sight. When the group moved on, the table was empty.    Gater knew something – they all knew something. Freeman and Phipps sat tight lipped, but only Gater looked worried – and Gater was the sheriff. It might be nothing, but their expressions, eye-contact and the mere fact it was Corrisville told her it was something.    But where had they gone, no sign of them crossing the park to the marques. Had Debbie seen anything?    Betty needed to know. She glanced across the tables, met Debbie’s eyes and then made for the nearest refreshment tent, aware of the committee’s eyes upon her but hoping Debbie would heed her unspoken message and follow suit.    She slipped deep into the tent, out of the prying eyes of Freeman, Phipps and Gater, then as Debbie followed through pulled her to one side.    ‘Did you see…’    ‘Yes – they headed out towards the Travers Track…’    ‘The Travers Track,’ Betty repeated, throwing Debbie a questioning glance, ‘now why would they do that? Ain’t anything there but railway sidings and a few ramshackle buildings.’    ‘Exactly, so don’t you be doing any investigating Miss – it’ll likely be another trap.’    Betty mused, it wouldn’t be the first time, but something was cooking and it wasn’t just the barbecue –    ‘Go back and sit with the girls Debbie.’    ‘But Miss…’    ‘Do as I say,’ Betty bared her teeth, ‘now scoot before I carry you back,’ she outstretched her powerful arms and it did the trick. Debbie wavered a second before turning on her heels, trudging from the tent. ‘You be careful,’ she called back.       Betty took a deep breath, the air was heavy inside the tent. This time she had little choice other than to leave alone – the Travers Track was once a back entry into the old railroad depot in Corrisville’s more prosperous times but many years before her arrival it had moved up-state. Now there was nothing but rusting sidings and a collection of derelict red brick buildings amidst dense woodland. If the Bambers’ were planning an ambush they could pick and choose their time and location – for once she would be powerless against them.    With thunder rumbling overhead, lightning flashes in the distance, drops of rain splattering the tent, and the eyes of the committee members upon her the moment she exited it, she’d lost all interest in the barbecue. She decided to head for home. A fifteen minute walk through the woods lay before her, and no doubt a drenching also.    On the town side of the park a car horn sounded from the parking lot. She heard Ted Hanson’s voice ring out in greeting, ‘Hiya Betty.’    ‘Hiya Ted.’    ‘Leaving so soon?’    Betty raised an arm to the heavens, ‘With this weather, you bet.’    Ted smiled his engaging smile, ‘Hadn’t counted on a bit of rain putting you off.’    ‘Aw, it’s not just the rain, Ted.’    Her expression must have dropped, because Ted picked up on it. ‘Hey, why don’t I drive you home, you can tell me what’s bothering you.’    ‘Yeah,’ Betty stretched her five foot three inch frame, laid a hand on Ted’s shoulder, ‘Except I’ve been thinking – you know that meal you mentioned the other day? I could sure do with it now,’ she looked at the rain dampening the park, ‘and I don’t think the Corrisville barbecue fits the bill somehow.’    She saw Ted’s look of surprise, ‘Er – yeah – I guess if that’s what you want. I know a place not far out of town…’    Ted put his foot on the throttle; dressed in his blue denims, check shirt and cowboy boots he looked different from when he wore his formal country club attire, but she thought he was pleasing on the eye nonetheless, with that dark wavy hair his crowning glory. There was just one area of concern about Ted – things she needed to know –    Ted drove her to a pleasant little diner a few miles out of town, that she’d passed often enough but never dropped into. Over a T-bone and fries she sounded him out –    ‘How much do you know of what goes on his this town, Ted?’    ‘That’s a strange question,’ Ted’s friendly smile seemed to waver a second; he picked at his fries, ‘there’s some folks pretty secretive, I know that much…’    ‘Quit dodging the issue…’    Ted blinked, dropped both knife and fork and threw up both hands, ‘Hey, - no look – I swear. Betty what’s bothering you – something gotten under your skin?’    Betty ran her eyes over Ted’s smooth face, he had good skin for someone in his mid-forties – he seemed concerned, but – ‘Corrisville’s gotten under my skin, and when that happens people better watch out.’  She sighed, jabbed at her steak, ‘Listen Ted, you’ve been around Corrisville a hell of a lot longer than me, you’re an influential man, don’t try to deny it. So when things happen, you know about it. There’s some kind of allegiance between your co-director Freeman at the golf club, Headmistress Phipps and Sheriff Gater, and it stretches its slimy cord to include the Bamber family. How come these guys got out of prison so quickly and how come Dolly constantly escapes punishment for her bullying?’    Ted shook his head, vigorously, ‘I know of no alliance Betty, forgive me for saying but your imagination is working overtime.’    Betty gulped down some water, she needed to cool her rising temperature, ‘Like I imagined the ram-raid that I thwarted at your club? Freeman and Sheriff Gater turning up just after the event was no coincidence, I’ll vouch…’    ‘Why would they do that?’    ‘I have my suspicions.’    ‘But…’    ‘No let me finish; the Bambers left the barbecue darned early this afternoon, headed off down Travers Track towards the old freight depot. There are an awful lot of obstacles out that way, derelict property, thick woodland. I got the feeling they were setting me up. Hoping I’d follow – even I’d be easy picking in that sort of location. For some reason I’m treading on folks’ toes in Corrisville, folks with something to hide – I mean the likes of Gater, Freeman and even Phipps – I’m thinking the Bambers get away with everything because they carry out their dirty work – why else is Dolly untouchable?’    Ted shook his head, began picking at his steak, ‘I don’t deny there are a few oddballs  Betty, every community has them, and Corrisville is no different. ‘I…’ Ted stopped, looking suddenly hesitant.    ‘Go on Ted, spit it out.’    ‘Okay, here goes – folks could just be mistrusting you Betty – I mean wary. What do they know of you? That you’re a schoolteacher, so you must be bright - that you’ve been here three years - you look magnificent, have enormous strength and that’s general knowledge by now – but that’s about all as far as I know. Kind of makes folk suspicious – I’ll vouch it’s more than that – I mean, where do you hail from Betty, what brought you here?’    Betty watched the rain bounce off the sidewalk, saw the wind tear at the awning. Questions she wasn’t prepared to answer right now, but she liked Ted, she didn’t want an enemy of him –    ‘So if I take on Corrisville, and I might just do that – I’ll find no dark quarters in you – that right?’    Ted laughed, but his easy, friendly manner had evaporated, ‘You’re beginning to sound like some kind of agent.’    ‘Now whose imagination’s running away with him?’ But she let him dwell on it as she cleaned her plate. ‘Guess it’s the great Corrisville washout.’    ‘Guess it is,’ but Ted Hanson seemed a long way away as he gazed through the window – ‘shame for all the townsfolk.’    ‘Yeah…’ Betty qualified, ‘all the normal Corrisville townsfolk.’    Betty looked up at Ted, but he didn’t meet her eyes. Return to home page