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Walter Miller's Homepage(TM)

Like "Moby Dick," a self-published beast tale.

The Summer 2001 Update

Page 39 of 50

We heard a tapping noise from outside the cell, and looked up to see the deputy typing at the computor keyboard. This noise was next folowed by the grating screech of an ancient dot matrix printer. The deputey looked up at me and Cathyann and said, "Well fellers, I jest done got that ol' computer workin'...Say whut?...Waaaait a minute, now..."

A moment later the deputy apeared agian and with a piece of paper in her hands that she stared at, her eyebrouws raised, and her lips moving silently.

"Mister Poteet, it looks like you done got an outstanding warrent; no, make that two outstanding...Mr. Poteet? ...Mr. DuWayne Poteet?"

I nudged Cathyann and she spoke up, "Oh that must be me. BWAHAHAHA!"

None of this fazed Cathyann who was now kneeling by the side of the stainless steel toilat, gazing at her reflection in the bowl's somwhat muted, brushed-metal patina and twerling Dad's fake eyebrow on her upper lip between her fingers.

"Know whut? I look GOOD in a mustache. No one'd ever know it." The Deputy disapeared agian and returned with two small paper sacks she said was our supper that she handed us thruogh the bars of the jailcell. Inside of each was a thin boloney sandwich, pre-made, a tiny bag of potatoe chips and one of those small sour green plums. Everything was cold and hard as the bags had sat in a frigde. It was horroble and disgousting.

Around 9 PM I cant hold it in anymore

I cought the deputy's attention and said to her meekly, "Ecxuse me, I have to go to the bathroom."

She shrugged, "Then go," and walked away.

Cathyann's fingers dug into my side. "Woudnt that old maid be a cute match fer Junior? No, serious?"

I explianed to Cathyann that I had to pee. I had not thoght of the conseqeunces of her being in the cell with me, believe me. I begged her to restrain her greggariousness, and please, please, please turn away and face the wall on the far side of the cell as I already suffored, in addition to a poor self esteem a teribble case of what is known as Bashful Kidney. That is a condition where you cant pee in front of othor peopel, even other guys in a public restroom situaton. AND HERE I WAS IN JAIL FOR GODSAKE WITH A GIRL.

"Sooo, I'm finaly gonna git a peek at the ol' equipment, eh? BWAHAHAHAHAH!"

I said to her, Cathyann I am serrious, so turn around and she said, "Like HAYLE I'm gonna turn around!

"Whip that lil' ol' soldier out, boy, an' git to it! Why, you done seen ME pee near a dozen times since I know you. Remembor that time I'd drank all them beers, and you drove me 'cross the state? How many times that day alone did we-all have to stop, so you kin WATCH ME sprinkle the sagebrush?"

"But I wasnt watching!" I pleaded.

"You may not of been watchin', but you still done SEEN. So go on, Bwah: Show me the Bishop! BWAHAHAHA!"

There was no argueing with her. And so I concontrated hard on my possible options. I said to her, "I'll call the deputy and say your harassing me. After all, Im a man and youre a woman."

"I'm Duuuwayne, she retourted, "And I coud care LESS whut kinda trouble that boy's gonna git in, after the way he treats ME."

She hiked her pants up and sauntored over to me in a manly swaggor, (getting better and better at it by the hour I might add), and snarled mennacingly, like someone might at a testostorone convention, "So let's see that shy, bitty lil' ol' fireman make some water, whuddya say?"

I had to think fast

Or else I woud wet my pants. Knowing that Cathyann had the atention span of a flea, I guessed corectly that simply changing the subject woud be enough distract her.

"So, tell me. How bad IS Duwayne treating you?" I said. Cathyann's tensed up face instantley relaxed.

"He woudnt tell me I had a sweet sexy sorta voice. I mean, 'least not on his own he woudnt. I had to ask him: 'Duwayne, dont I got a sweet sexy sorta voice'? Course, once I confronted him on it, he sorta just said, 'Ayuuup!'",. Cathyann was now lookin away from me at the wall and frowning a bit. This was my time to sneak in a pee while she was distracted. I slowley backed toword the tiny steel toilet and pulled my shirttail down so she woudnt see nothing, shamefuly sidling up to sit onto the small shiny stainless seatless loo. Yes it is houmiliting but true: I did it like a girl.

Thank God she did not seem to notice as she kept up her rambolling complaining

"Now, tell the truth: Ain't I got a sweet sexy voice? Know whut kinda voice I got? It's a haunting voice. Like Sissy Spacek, no? Answer me Walter, and dont patronize me! But mah voice is like honey. More mature, with that thar same sweet Southern haunting quallity."

Cathyann's voice was NOT sweet but it WAS haunting

Her hoarse, raspy, barking groaning bleating grunting normal speaking voice was very unnerving and auditorily indistinguishable from certain noises generatted during the initial breeding process of goats, which if you ever heard two of them going at it right outside the window of your trailor at 3AM you will get an idea of what its like to listen to Cathyann talk. I tried to keep up the converssation so as to distract her, so I coud quickly finish peeing because as you know once you start you haveto finish no matter what, but I tell you I coudnt even get in a word edgewise.

"Aint that a great word? 'Patronize?' Momma found it in the Readers Digest, in the 'It Pays To Increase Your Word Power', -- in the same dang issue whut put DuWayne to sleep on the john -- and she done..." And just then she turned arround to see me sittin on the john and howled, "BWAHAHAHA! Walter, the side o'that bowl is gittin' more dribbling on it than the Final Four, bein' that from whar I see it, that ol' bishop's done shrunk down to a pawn! BWAHAHA! BWAHAHA!



It was an indescribable, unimaginnable houmilliation.

The whole night I got less than an hours sleep. After a few hours of cruel teasing about my annattomy, Cathyann returned to yammering on and on about DuWayne's not responding to her sexauallity as well as her suposed Sissy Spacek voice and also Coal Miner's Daughtor which it turns out is her favorrite film.

I made the huge misteak of admitting that I never saw it. She must of seen it 30 times and knew the whole thing by heart and so told me the whole 2 hours worth of dialog with side comentary for a total of 4 or 5 hours at least, with a stationbreak every 20 minuts or so to sing "I Was Just A Coal Miner's Daughter."

I was on the lowor bunk which was another misteak because all night she tossed and bounced on the upper bunk while blabboring on and on while the cheap springs above me strained and popped as the big round indentation of her massive rump thruogh the wafer thin mattress got closer and closer. I awoke with starts all night afraid that the and skinny wire netting above woud bust, and, if not killed on impact, I'd be surely smothored to death underneath her mountainous flesh. Plus all night long she talked, and talked. Her ceaseless booming voice bounced off the cemment ceiling just above her, and it, and the smell of her dry smoky breath filled the tiny cell.

"Know whut mah favorite line of thet thar movie is? When theyre havin' breakfest in the motel cafe the morning after their wedding night when Tommy Lee Jones done practiclay attacked her while she was still wearin' her wedding dress and her parka over it, for Godsake. And he calls it 'LOVE', and she says, 'LUUUVE? You layin on me gruntin' like an old hawg?'"

Cathyann paused for a second as a giant pounding fart shook the steel bunk frame.

"Everytime that scene's on I turn to DuuuWayne and slap him upside his head an say: 'I WISH!' BWAHAHAHAHAHA!"

The Deputy leaves

It was the weirdest thing. She just left us alone there in the police stattion, around midnight. She said, "Bye y'all, I'm going home," and then just left.

The clock said two a.m. when I was awakened agian when the fragile bunk nearly tipped as Cathyann struggoled to clumsily climb down cursing and breathin heaviliy.

I pretended I was asleep

Cathyann stood above me as I lay in the bunk and it was just now I notticed that she looked at me with this sort of creepy leer on my face.

"Hey bwah," she said to me in her fake deep voice, the one she put on when she was prettending to be a man. I told her, "Cathyann cut it out."

"We in jail, bwah. Now got out that bunk!" I told her to knock it off but she kept it up like crazy.

"You mah maytag!" she screammed. "Git off that bunk and warsh mah underwears, bitch! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!"

She made her voice normol agian. "Walter's mah 'maytag'! BWAHAHAHA!" I know she was only kidding but it teriffied me. You never now what is goingto happen with Cathyann.

"I wuz just funning you. Come on. Gimme a kiss."

I said, "No!"

"I'll make-pretend I'm a lady this time. Wait a minute: I AM a lady. BWAHAHAHA!"

Next thing I knew she was on her plump dimply hands and knees moving very fast across the lower bunk toword me like a predatory hippo as I cowored weakly against the corner, my spine hard on the cold cement wall and holding up a thin cotten County Issue sheet in my trembing fists. She lunged me and before I coud evade the attack her big beefy arms were around my thrashing shallow ribcage, her fists locked undorneath the small of my back and her big musculor toungue tryin to force its way past my tightley cletched lips and teeth.

"I take that back," she paused for a second, "I AIN'T a lady after all! BWAHAHAH!"

I told her to PLEASE leave me alone. I felt a reppulsive rumbling in my stomoch, but it was coming from HER stomoch, which was pressed bare against mine. She winced. And sudenly a loud fart.

"Whoa. Thet was just mah ordinary flappy ol' beer fart, but with the a-CUE-sticks in here it sounded like a nice tight bongo."

Cathyann seemed to be proud of that bongo sound. But it was just a breif distraction. Once agian The Toungue headed toward me. And just in time before it knocked all my teeth down my throaght, which I am sure The Toungue is strong enough to do, I wriggoled one arm free out from under myself, and slapped my hand hard onto my mouth.

"Come on, Walter! Cain't we just make pretend? Like a fantasy or whut not? Like, you're some ax murderer gonna git the lethal injection tomorrow, and this here's yer conjugal visit from yer purty female penpal who you ain't never met till now?"

I was able to gulp in a small ammount of air into my squeesed lungs, just barely enough to say, "No."

She slapped me hard on my cheek and told me I was no fun at all. Also she told me that I "lead her on all the time" and that is an abbsollute lie. She clammored back up to her bunk, and woud of slipped and cracked her head on the cemment floor if I hadnt rescued her by (reluctantly) springing out to push her butt up. When her centor of gravity hit the top, the mattress bounced violently like one of those big Olympic high jumpers landing on the mat.

Then I got the lecture

"Ever-thang is just 'Walter, Walter Walter:' Walter's problems. Walter's poor selfesteam, Walter's abusive fambly. Walter's website. Walter's failed cartoon project. Walter's delicatte ego.

"Ever-thang, I say. Tell you whut, bwah: Whole world's done sick of it."

This went on for atleast annother hour. All in all she was more disgusted than rejected. That made me feel bettor becuase I always try to avoid hurting people's feelings. But I sure as hell was not goingto make out with her.

The next morning

Somhow I made it through the night. The next morning sunshine poured into the hallway oposite the cell. I blinked and there in front of me was a field of pink. As my eyes adjusted what I saw was Cathyann, her hotpants and undershorts down to her ankels as she grinned at me with her moustache all curled up, as she was propped atop the tiny stainless steel jail toilet, which, for the size of her, was way, way too small and incredullously out of proportion, comically so in fact, though there was nothin funny about it. Her whole body from the way she sat with chin on arms, and arms on knees, leaning foward all compressed to be allmost perfectley round in shape, bare and pale and sweaty, looked sort of exactley like a giant pink water balloon glistening with vapor that somone had unimmaginably balanced onto on a small steel screw cap from a pop bottle that whatevor kind of steel it was indeed made of, was, now, from the sounds she made, no longer stainless.

"Well, when you gotta go you gotta go! BWAHAHAHA!"

Sitting at the desk was another deputy, a tough little Danny DeVito lookin guy. He walked over to the cell door with one of those alunimum clipboards that he read off.

"Mister Walter Underscore Miller...Mister Stuart Piggott Hogg...Mister DuWayne...whatever whatever Poteet...
...I'm missin' a prisoner. One o'yall's gone," he drawled.

...But who was missing?