Jambonezee

Jambonezee

by LaVa Payne

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Copyright 2011 by LaVa Payne

Cover Art by Phillip McKnight

Smashwords Edition

ISBN # 978-1-4658-8367-4 (for Epub format)

Smashwords License Statement

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For Zach, Pippen, Gavin and Malorie, the true lost children, may they find their way home.

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Chapter 1

We gain strength, and courage, and confidence by each experience in which we really stop to look fear in the face... we must do that which we think we cannot.- - - Eleanor Roosevelt

But I didn’t… his little voice was cut short.

Mrs. Timberlane, it is time.

Time for what Mommy? Pippen had stopped crying long enough to be curious. Zach lurched toward Pippen, The bad, evil Jambonezee are taking us to the cave and they are going to eat us! RAWR!

Mommy, mommy, I don’t want the Jambonezee to eat us! Pippen jumped off the couch and grabbed Ma’Dell around the leg tightly. Gavin waddled off the couch and grabbed the other leg screaming while Zach poked his chest out and lurched toward the officers growling loudly. Officer’s Steinbeck and Raymond were shocked. They stood dumbfounded holding the children’s bags. While Ma’Dell turned toward Zach, You are not going to the Jambonezee. These nice officers are taking you on adventure. Now, quit scaring your brother and sister. Zach looked at his mother with a questioning glance and then growled a low growl back at the officers.

Mrs. Timberlane, tell the children to come with us. Officer Grayson was as stern as ever never bending holding Malorie in his left arm. Malorie was busy sucking her bottle. Her reddish blonde hair was gleaming in the sunlight beaming through the living room glass. Her tiny fingers were so delicate, and everyone had said when she was born that she would grow up to be a pianist.

Ma’Dell followed the officers with the children as they all walked out the door, down the steps to the porch and along the boxwood shrubs that lined the trimmed front yard. The police cars were parked with one in the driveway and one alongside the road.

The next door neighbors were mostly conspicuous in their watching. Arnold Weiss stood on his porch across the street with his arms crossed watching everything. Shirley Todd had her front window curtain pulled all the way up, as she peered from behind her glass. Don Cheefer, who lived directly next door, was watering his flowers watching intently.

The children followed Ma’Dell to the driveway. Officer Grayson opened the back of the police car and buckled Zach, Pippen and Gavin into the backseat. Officer Steinbech held Malorie while Officer Raymond placed the infant seat in the front seat and tightened the safety belt. When the children were safely belted into the car, the tears flowed. Sal, who was standing on the porch now, was crying mercilessly. The neighbors were shaking their heads and showing their disapproval as well. Don Cheefer shouted, Don’t you guys know that this family has been through enough already? When is enough, enough? Eh!

The officers ignored his taunts. When Officer Raymond had strapped Malorie into her car seat, he closed the patrol car door waiting for Grayson to speak.

Mrs. Timberlane, here is your copy of the order to remove the children. When we get the children to the Department of Children Services and they have done their initial intake and evaluation of the children, then Terry Roscoe will give you a call. Until then, I suggest you allow the process to work.

Ma’Dell was already crying and howling with agony. Sal had to walk down the porch steps and reach her in the driveway before she fell. Sal was old and had been diagnosed with COPD from his exposure during the Vietnam War to Agent Orange.

The children in the back seat were watching. Zach nudged Pippen. Look at how these bad people are making Mommy cry. I told you they are taking us to the Jambonezee.

Do you think that we can sneak away? Pippen looked at Zach seriously.

Yeah, I think we can sneak away when they are not paying attention. Then we will hide real fast until it is safe to run back to Mommy. Then, they won’t even get a chance to eat us.

When do you think we can sneak away? She looked out the window of the police car.

Zach unbelted himself and tried to open the door. They have locked us in! We can’t open the door. We will have to wait until they let us out. Zach growled his best Tyrannosaurus Rex growl at the officer trying to scare him.

Pippen sat nervously waiting. Gavin looked at Zach, Me want to go to Mommy. Gavin began crying which in turn made Pippen cry loudly too. Zach just stared at the officers with a look of anger.

The officer’s heard the children crying and looked at the mother all wilted in her father’s arms. Officer Grayson walked over to his door, This is just a formality, just a formality, I am sure that everything will be explained by Ms. Roscoe. With that he opened the door to the police car, the child’s wailing almost insufferable. Within a few moments, officer Grayson was backing out of the driveway with the children. Officer Raymond and Officer Steinbech were in the other police car waiting to follow behind. And as soon as Officer Grayson got down about a half of a block something strange happened. Pippen’s head popped up in the backseat, and then Zach’s head followed. Both children had unbuckled their seatbelts and they were waving their arms frantically towards their mother crying out, Help us, help us the Jambonezee are going to eat us! The police car stopped on the side of the road, and officer Grayson got out of the police car opened the back door and quickly belted the children back into their seats. As the car drove off for the second time, it would only be a matter of time before the next great escape would unfold.

I returned to La’Nique’s letter:

Kevin I know you don’t practice anymore. And I am real sorry about that, but don’t you know someone or something that can help with this matter. I mean really? There has to be at least one or two lawyers, a judge or somebody in the government that can at least let us see the children.

I have been trying for the past few years to go through the chain of command, and it has gotten me nowhere. The Department of Children’s Services are going to have their final case heard on December 3, 2009. Terry Roscoe has already told me via a phone conversation that she has no intention to return the children to Ma’Dell. Furthermore, Kevin, she said that, Ma’Dell needs to admit her part in this crime. I can only tell you how furious this made me. I mean really? Does she think my sister sat by and watched her child being molested? Terry is a freakin’ moron to even think much less suggests such a thing. It sounds like something out of a bad fairy tale, honestly.

Well, I am through ranting for now. I will write more later.

P.S. I have enclosed a clipping.

Sincerely,

La’Nique McKnight

I motioned Theresa for one more cup of coffee. As I watched her hobble over to my table, I got curious. Theresa, I have had a few cups of coffee in this diner, and well, I have always notice that you walk with a limp—what happened to you? In retrospect, I thought about La’Nique’s case.

Theresa looked up with surprise, Well, Kevin, to be honest, I have always wondered the same about you since you got paroled.

Touche, I said. Well, how much is the tab?

Same as always, $1.41. She moved her boney hand to sit the coffee pot on my table as she wrote my ticket. I could see that she was rather pale looking with her cheap black dyed hair, but I said nothing more about her circumstances.

Theresa placed the ticket on the table and walked over to fill up the coffee cups at the next table. When she walked off, J.D. leaned over towards me, You know she’s sensitive about the wobble thing. I nodded at him.

Mike said, I don’t why she is sensitive about that, she tells everything else. The whole table broke out in laughter.

James Knight, Why shoot, you know I tried to go out with her daughter Tempesta, once and boy howdy, let me tell you, she didn’t mind letting me know real quick I was not hung right for her tastes.

Mike still laughing said, Yeah, you aren’t hung enough for even a cricket!

They all roared with laughter. I just sat watching them act like fools. Well, guys I got to be going…

J.D. leaned over again, You know, her daughter, Tempesta, is one of them there pure straight lesbians.

Mike snortled, So, which is it—straight or lesbian.

J.D. punched Mike in the gut. Now, like I was saying one of them there lesbians, and you know she shouldn’t mind much after having a daughter like that you know.

Mike sat up and punched J.D in the arm. Well, the way I hear it, Theresa is a wild cat or at least was in her day.

James Knight laughed, Well, I wouldn’t mind getting a little cat whether it is wild or not. These days it don’t matter much…

Mike turned to Alton, Say, didn’t you hear once that Theresa ‘wet’ the salesman from Big Chief’s Rentals?

Alton nodded, The guy went to repossess something or another at her house. The man said she opened the front door and told him to wait a minute. When Theresa came back she had a large pitcher of ice water which she flung all over him and told him to get off her property.

They all roared with laughter as I sat somewhat amused myself thinking of this hobbling woman flinging a pitcher of ice water on a repo man. The man gave new meaning to all wet.

Mike nudged J.D., And as I hear it, he got back in his truck, drove to the store and had the manager call her about it. What a knuckle head. They were all laughing so hard that Theresa must have overheard the conversation because she was staring at them all very hard.

Well, I said as forked over four dollars and laid them on the table, I guess that guy was all washed up!

The laughter burst out hysterical, as I walked out the diner door. I never thought old men would be as bad about gossip as old women, but they were.

The ice in the wind chapped my jaws. I could feel a gripping hand around my throat. It wasn’t really fall. It was winter. As I turned the corner of the coffee shop, I watched Theresa pocketing the money I had left on the table. She was a sneaky woman. She would take the ticket up to the counter and tell her boss that I had stiffed them, probably.

Sneaky women were common in these parts, I thought. Practically, every woman I knew was sneaky in her own way. My wife, God Bless her dear soul, the wench, was probably the sneakiest of them all. Sherry West, was a belle of the south. Her ancestors were once rich plantation owners in Alabama. She had attended the best schools and had her coming of age cotillion at the posh Vandegaurd Plaza Hotel.

When I first met her, she was a glowing beauty, though she was going through her second divorce. She had ambition and drive. Boy, she is going places, I thought. And, I was right. She went right through my address book, and before I knew it, I was walking her down the aisle. I had bought into her southern rich plantation owner dream world.

Early in my career she drove me toward success. She insisted that I work longer hours and hire more and more staff. Before I knew it, she was micromanaging my law firms. I had two at the time I was arrested. I had my fingers in real estate transactions, represented banks and did peoples tax returns. My offices were seven women strong and growing. After much insistence in the future of the U.S. energy spike, I began to talk with investor’s in alternative energy sources. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, I was a partner in a business venture to produce alternate energy. Yes, those were the days just before the Jarrel incident.

Jarrel was representing my office as a qualified, closer on most of the real estate transactions. I was proud of how well my real estate law was progressing. I would say I was doing 85 percent of the real estate deals in the area. However, Jarrel was growing more and more ambitious. She wanted me to let her close alone on most of the deals. And, I have to say that she was downright stubborn on the matter. Not to mention Jarrel was constantly coming to me to complain about my newer employ, La’Nique McKnight.

It seemed that La’Nique just got on her everlasting nerves. Every day, for the last two months that La’Nique worked for me, Jarrel was pressing her to do more than her job. She wanted La’Nique to be her personal secretary and screen calls for her. La’Nique might not have objected had Jarrel not been so snippy. I honestly think that part of that was due to the fact that La’Nique was a younger woman and a certain judge came by my Martin office quite frequently to chat.

It was no secret that Judge Max Brundige was a wolf hound. His poor wife, Nicole, had been such a hard working woman. Nicole had passed away some seven months before he started coming to my office regularly to visit La’Nique. Of course, Jarrel had had a fling with Max and so that just made things tenser.

I had in a roundabout way, talked to La’Nique regarding Max. I said, You know La’Nique, there are two kinds of men in the world. She had raised her eyebrows at me when I mentioned this. There are the kind you marry and the kind you fool around with… Her gaze was centered on me hard. But I have to say that usually neither of those kinds of men will you find in the practice of law.

La’Nique finished stacking the pile of cases she had gone over on the edge of my desk. I want you to know that there are two kinds of women: the dumb ones that get caught, and the smart ones that regret affairs later. She adjusted her knee length skirt, And in this office, you have only one woman in which would never consider doing either. As she walked back to her office, I thought to myself, smart girl. Though she was at least in her mid-thirties, I felt that