Chapter 8 #3
UP IN HEAVEN, the Three Spinsters cheered and gave each other high fives.
SATURDAY MORNING, DEVON got dressed and automatically reached for his wig.
Remembering his deal with Tamar, he paused.
He wondered if he could get away with wearing it in the house, but knowing Tamar, she might have planted a hidden camera in his room and was watching him even now.
He sighed. This was so unfair. Yes, he wanted to do his quest, but not at the price he was being asked to pay, and she’d been so sneaky with it.
He felt played big-time. Then again, that’s why she was Tamar and the rest of the people on planet earth weren’t.
“Geez,” he voiced dispiritedly. He’d been wearing the wig for years.
How was he supposed to just stop, especially when he didn’t want to?
Standing in front of the mirror on his dresser, he checked out his wig-free self and wondered if anyone would recognize him.
He barely recognized himself. He had no choice, though, so he brushed his hair and went to join his family for breakfast.
Amari, seated at the table, saw him first. “Whoa! Who are you?”
Devon ignored him.
His parents shared a smile like maybe Tamar had told them about his deal with her.
Amari was persistent, though. “Where’s the wig?”
“Let him be, Amari,” Mom warned gently.
“But—”
“Did you hear your mother?” Dad asked.
“Okay. Sitting silently,” Amari replied, eyes still on Devon.
Devon figured he might as well tell him. “If I don’t wear my wig for ten days, Tamar will let me do my quest.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really, so leave me alone.”
“I’m proud of you,” Amari said. “In fact, Kelly hired a new barber to replace Mr. Pig Owner, and the man has skills. I’ll treat you to a fresh cut if you want one.”
Devon was stunned. “For real?”
“For real.”
Devon smiled. “Okay.”
Their dad said, “I love it when a family comes together. Now, pass me a waffle, Lil.”
Showing her amusement, she sent the plate of waffles his way, and Saturday morning breakfast at the July house began.
AFTER FINISHING HER breakfast, Tamar was seated on her porch scrolling through her tablet for the morning’s news when a car pulled up.
She didn’t recognize the vehicle, so she watched silently.
The man who stepped out was dark skinned, gray haired, and wearing a nice suit.
He nodded a greeting. She nodded back, but his identity remained a mystery.
Heading up the walk, he smiled. “Are you Ms. Tamar July?”
“Depends on who’s asking.”
Taken aback, he paused.
Tamar knew some underhanded people made their living scamming senior citizens, and she was in no mood for shenanigans, so she waited.
He cleared his throat. “Well, ma’am, my name is Joel Newton Jr., but I go by my middle name, Aaron.”
She couldn’t believe her ears. “Stop right there. You can get back in your car and head out. I’ve nothing to say to you.” She now saw the strong resemblance.
“Look. I know—”
Anger rising, she stood. “You know nothing except I want you off my land. Do you need a shotgun escort? I can give you one for free.”
His eyes widened. “Ma’am. I—”
Tamar picked up the shotgun resting beside the chair. Raising it to fire, she announced, “You’re officially trespassing. Leave!”
When he hesitated, she sent a blast into the ground near his shoes, making him yelp and jump to high heaven. A second blast followed, closer this time, and he tripped over his feet getting back to his car. Once safely inside, he roared off.
Wearing a smile that didn’t meet her hawklike eyes, Tamar set the shotgun aside, retook her seat, and picked up her tablet. “Now, where was I?”
WHEN DEVON AND Amari entered the barbershop, the place was pretty full.
OG was seated in a chair waiting his turn, as were Mr. Bing, Mr. Clark, Chef Thorn, and Sheriff Dalton.
Doc Reg was in the chair being tended to by the new barber, Justin, a tall, thin man with sleeves of dragons adorning the brown skin of his arms. On the ladies’ side of the room, Ms. Bernadine and Mayor Payne were under the dryer hoods, and Ms. Gemma was in the chair getting her hair cut by Kelly. Baseball was on the big-screen TV.
Devon and Amari made their way to a seat, and he noticed the men staring curiously at his head.
Bing asked, “Hey, Devon. What happened to your wig? Did it time travel back to the sixties?”
Chuckles followed.
Amari defended his brother. “He’s going for a new look.”
“Well, welcome to the twenty-first century, Dev.”
They found two open seats, and Devon whispered to his brother, “Thank you.”
“No problem. Mr. Bing always comes with the jokes. You just have to go with who he is.”
OG got up and was making his way to where they were sitting, when a man burst through the shop doors. He appeared angry and frazzled. “The 911 dispatcher said Sheriff Will Dalton was here.” He took a hasty look around at the people inside.
Will stood. “I am. What can I do for you?”
“I want someone arrested for trying to shoot me.”
The shop went quiet. Kelly used the remote to mute the TV.
But before Will could respond, Bing said, “Mal, he looks just like you. You have a twin we don’t know about?”
Devon said to Amari, “They do look alike.”
“Yeah, they do.” The stranger was shorter, skin a bit browner, and he carried a little more weight on his frame, but from their eyebrows to their mustaches the resemblance was uncanny.
“Who shot at you?” Will asked.
“Ms. July.”
Mal asked, “Tamar July?”
“Yes.”
Mal walked over. “I’m Malachi July. What did you do to her?”
“Nothing, other than try and introduce myself.”
“What’s your name?”
“Joel Newton Jr. Friends call me Aaron.”
Mal sighed aloud. “Oh, hell.”
TAMAR WAS STILL on her porch when Will Dalton’s cruiser pulled into her yard. She supposed Newton Jr. had snitched on her. She didn’t care. He was trespassing, and when told to leave, he didn’t. She’d had every right to send him packing.
Will got out of his vehicle followed by Newton Jr. and, to her surprise, Mal. As the three men approached, she noted just how much Jr. and Mal favored each other, which didn’t help her mood.
Will said in greeting, “Tamar.”
“Will. What can I do for you?”
“Mr. Newton here said you shot at him.”
“I did. I told him he was trespassing, and he didn’t leave.”
“You didn’t give me a chance,” he responded tightly.
Tamar ignored him and turned to Mal. “Do you know who he is?”
“I do.”
“Need you to keep better company.”
He sighed. “Now see, just for that I’m going to have him over for dinner.”
She froze. “No, you’re not.”
Will said, “Tamar. Whatever your beef is with Mr. Newton, can it not involve firearms in the future, please?”
“As long as he stays off my property.”
Will turned to Newton, who replied, “Don’t worry, I won’t be back.”
“Good,” Tamar told him. “Have a safe drive home. Wherever that is.”
While she looked on, Mal asked Newton, “You have time to talk, maybe get something to eat?”
He nodded. “I do.”
“Good. My treat.”
Tamar hoped Mal was just pulling her leg. She didn’t want him doing anything with Newton except saying goodbye.
Will asked, “Can I go back to Kelly’s now before I lose my place in line, if I haven’t already?”
Mal said, “Sure. Bye, Tamar. Talk to you later.”
She gave him a terse nod. She’d already expressed her opinion on Newton, she didn’t feel the need to repeat herself.
They drove away, and she watched until the cruiser was out of sight.