ISBN: 9781626756144

Introduction

Unfortunately, No Purchase On Tomorrow is classified in the romance genre. In this writer’s opinion, romance is fleeting and love is eternal, but my opinion is only that.

No Purchase On Tomorrow is a love story involving two sisters. Dr. Deborah Finch is beautiful and perfect in every way and is every man’s dream, but her younger sister, Dr. Elizabeth Calloway, who is beautiful in her own way, is physically challenged and is confined to a wheelchair. Each sister has their doctorate in their respective fields. Dr. Finch, in the field of education and Dr. Calloway is a language scholar.

A spin off storm from a hurricane does extensive tree damage in Tallahassee and Tommy Lee, The Tree Monkey, enters their lives. Tommy Lee is a robust man among men. He is quiet smitten by the beautiful Dr. Finch. As their relationship develops, Dr. Finch’s job begins to demand extensive travel. Unable to assist her sister Betty to the different cultural events at the university, she asks Tommy Lee if he would mind escorting her unfortunate sister. Tommy Lee reluctantly agrees, but for every cultural event he attends with Dr. Calloway he takes her on a “redneck outing.” Tommy Lee and Dr. Calloway not only begin to enjoy each others company, but look forward to and anticipate their next time together.

“Tommy Lee, do you love me?” Dr Calloway asked.

“Yes,” he manages to say, “but...”

“Will you make love to me?”

Aware of her condition, he asked wondering, “How?”

“I don’t know, but there has to be a way,” she answered with a smile, anticipating.

No Purchase On Tomorrow is a tragic comedy. Intimacy is not graphic and is only implied. Anyone would be comfortable reading this tender love story. The story has several great characters and touches lightly on dance, including ballet, art, deep sea fishing, scuba diving, and river boat exploring.

No Purchase On Tomorrow has many descriptive macho scenes to entice any sporting male reader and likewise, many scenes to satisfy the love interest in us all.

Thank you,

John Wesley Brown

Cover Design by Charlie Sawyer

(850) 228-2166

Charlie@CharlieSawyer.com

Biography

My name is John Wesley Brown. I grew up on a small farm in rural Leon County outside of Tallahassee, Florida. I attended Florida State University. I dropped out of school and worked in heavy construction in Indiana to save enough money to take my very pregnant Jewish wife at the time to Israel to live on a kibbutz. Israel paid my wife’s way, but since I was a gentile, a goy to some, I had to pay my own way. I was the first and only redneck living in Israel. I taught the Kibbutzniks a thing or two about farming as well as other things. I lived a year on the kibbutz and had limited training on the Uzi. The safety factor in Israel was becoming questionable so I sent my wife and child back to the United States, but I stayed through the Six Day War. During that year in Israel I wrote novels and short stories in longhand, but upon returning to the U.S. I was unable to read my own handwriting. We divorced and I reentered Florida State University and took course work in photography, film, art history, and the humanities. I wrote some papers and even had some published. I graduated in 1971.

But I kept getting nice ladies pregnant and had to give up writing and go into business to support me and all of them. After working in construction for a few years, I started the first tent and party business in Tallahassee in 1975. I sold it for a hunk of money in 2000 and prepared myself to go back to writing. But my love at that time shocked me with the news that while I was putting in all those long hours and paying off all the debts, she had developed another life and for sure didn’t want to be married to someone struggling to be a writer. Who can blame her? I got my third and final divorce in 2001 and said good-by to most of the money, but kept writing.

I have been married three times and have three daughters and several grandchildren.

I have two more novels completed and they are close to being epublished. No Purchase On Tomorrow is the story of two sisters in love with the same man. Both beautiful sisters have doctorates, but one is confined to a wheelchair. A Taste of Freedom is an historical fictional novel that takes place on a plantation in Mississippi in the mid 1850s, prior to and up to the Civil War. It is written in the Southern white and slave vernacular of that time period. It took five years of research and writing to bring this novel to fruition. I have also written many short stories that I intend to publish.

Read them all!

Thank you for your interest.

John W. Brown

Chapter 1

Dr. Elizabeth Calloway, language scholar, sat in her bathroom trapped in her wheelchair, waiting and hoping to hear the opening of her front door. She smiled and uttered a sigh, a breath of relief, when she heard the clack of the mechanism and the familiar opening creak. A raised voice called out, “Hello Betty? It’s me, Debbie, your favorite sister. Did you survive that terrible storm last night? We’re fortunate that the hurricane shifted to the west. I think it hit Texas. Where are you?”

Dr. Calloway responded with a shout, “Back here. I’m stuck. I could use a little help.”

“What have you done now?”

“You know me.” Although unseen, Dr. Calloway shrugged.

The beautiful blonde Dr. Deborah Finch, with her doctorate in education and perfect in every way, went in the direction of her only sister’s voice as she commented, “We’re lucky to still have power. Most of Tallahassee is out. I think our section is the only one that has electricity. The police have issued a request to stay off the streets so our Saturday outing will have to be postponed. A lot of the traffic lights aren’t working and trees are down everywhere, including some of yours. Where are you?”

“In the bathroom, the bath mat has grown attached to my wheelchair.”

When Dr. Finch entered the bathroom she smiled at her sister. “Are you okay? How long have you been here?”

“Not too long, I’m just a little shaken. I was trying to wash up. The storm scared me. I felt like I had nervous perspiration. After I cleaned up, I was in too big of a hurry. My rear wheel spun and sucked up the bath mat. I didn’t want to ruin it or make a mess so I thought I would wait and hope that you would make it by. You said I have tree damage?”

“You’re lucky, it doesn’t look too bad. I heard on the news several homes have been damaged or even destroyed by uprooted trees. I was worried. I tried to call, but the phones are out. I tried your cell, but I could only leave a message. I came as soon as I could.”

“I left my cell charging last night in the kitchen. All that wind and lightning kept dimming the lights. I was afraid I would lose electricity, and then I remembered I haven’t kept my power chair charged like I should. That’s pretty dumb, I should be more diligent. I worried all last night that I would have to be evacuated. It was scary.”

“The worst is over. Let’s get your chair unstuck,” Deborah said as she smiled at her less fortunate younger sister.

“How bad is the tree damage? Nothing serious, I hope,” Betty asked.

“It doesn’t look too bad. One is uprooted and would have fallen on your house, but another tree blocked it and saved your home. I saw a tree crew working down the street. When I leave I’ll stop and see if I can get them to give us a price and maybe do the work while they are in the neighborhood. Back your chair just a little. Stop. Now ease forward. Stop. Now back again. There you’re free. Let’s make some coffee.”

After getting her sister calmed and situated, Deborah drove back the way she had come looking for the work truck of the tree men. She saw the truck in someone’s yard so she parked on the street and walked beside the house towards the truck. There were no workers in sight. She looked up into the canopy of thick foliage created by the meshing of several uprooted trees, but she saw no one. She noticed several ropes, like vines, dangling from the combined trees. She assumed that the workers must be on break or gone to lunch. She assured herself that there would be a business card in the truck, but as she reached for the door handle a voice out of nowhere screamed at her.

“What are you doing? Get away from the truck.”

She jumped back startled, trying to figure out the direction of the voice. There was no one in sight. She stumbled and reached out to steady herself with one of the hanging ropes. The voice grew louder and angrier.

“Don’t touch that rope.”

She staggered and fell against the truck, looking in all directions.

“Get away from the truck. Move away.”

She started to move back to her car.

“Not that way. Don’t move. Just stand still,” the angry voice demanded.

She froze, scared not knowing what to do. She heard a chainsaw start. It was loud and frightening. She looked up, but quickly looked down to avoid the wood chips and sawdust that began to fall all around her and on her like snowflakes, blending with her natural blonde hair. She sniffed and smelled the aromatic scent of fresh cut pine. Soon there was silence and a smoking chainsaw came out of nowhere lowered by a rope, swaying menacingly in front of her before settling on the ground. As the ropes wiggled around her, she took a chance and glanced up to see a man in some sort of harness lowering himself by controlling different ropes.

On his legs were strange leggings of steel and leather strapped to his work boots. On the inside of each legging an ominous spike stood perpendicular to each foot. He appeared tall and muscular with a dishwater blonde braid hanging out the back of cloth skullcap made out of the Stars and Bars of a confederate flag.

Oh no! He’s one of them. Will these rednecks ever quit fighting that war? These people are violent and prejudiced. I had better be careful what I say or do. Her fear grew.

When the man touched the ground he stepped out of the harness and unbuckled his leggings. He gave her a nasty look. “Who in the hell are you, and what are you doing here? Are you crazy or just plain stupid?”

She took a step forward with her hands and arms wavering around apologetically trying to find the right words. “I’m sorry.” Without thinking, she grabbed a rope. “I just wanted. . .”

“Don’t touch that rope. Give me your hand.”

Out of fear she did as commanded and he led her to the far side of the truck.

“Stay,” he barked.

She stayed, afraid to move as this huge scary man returned to the ropes. He pulled on one for slack and then he jerked a lever on a winch that was attached to the truck’s front bumper. A huge limb came free from the tangled crowns and fell rapidly to the ground. He untied the rope from the limb before turning to a trapped Debbie. He stomped towards her in anger. Scowling as he came.

She trembled as he approached pulling off his skullcap, wiping his face, and shaking his muscular body. The once clinging woodchips and sawdust flew away from him as if in fear also.

“You didn’t answer my question, the last one. Are you crazy or just plain stupid? You could have been hurt. Or worse, you could have hurt me. What are you doing here?”

“I, I, need some tree work done.”

“You and everyone else. I’m too busy to work for dumb people. Come here.”

Although she was still frightened she took a cautionary step closer to this angry man. She had always thought of herself as tall; he was a head taller. She looked up at him and said, “I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize the danger.”

He allowed a smile to break through his frown as he brushed the debris from her hair and off of her shoulders. “You look like a long haired tree monkey, a pretty long haired tree monkey.”

“A what?”

“A tree monkey, that’s what I am, a tree monkey. Tommy Lee, The Tree Monkey. Do you have a lot of money? I don’t work cheap, but I’m the best.” He kept brushing and smiling. You sure are a pretty thing. Are you married?”

“No,” she said before she could think. Immediately she was mad at herself for answering such a personal question. “But what does that matter? I just want a price on some tree work. It’s just down the street.”

“I don’t work for married women.”

“What? That’s against the law. That’s discrimination!”

“Like I care. I may do work for your husband if you had one, but I don’t work for married women, too much bull shit. But what does that matter? You’re not married. And I might not work for you anyway. So there.” He laughed out loud as he opened the door of the truck and removed a pad and pencil. “Write down your name, all your phone numbers, and the address. I’ll look at it after I finish here, but right now I’ve got to get back to work. I promised to get this mess on the ground today; gotta get the pressure off of this oak so it can readjust. I’ll check out your problem and stick the price in the mailbox. I still might not do it. We’ll see.”

She handed him the pad with the information and started to give directions. “It’s just two blocks down and one block...”

“I can read. I was born and raised in Tallahassee. I’ve been here all my life except for a few years on the West Coast playing in giant trees and winning logging contest. I know where your house is.”

“It’s not my house. It’s my sister’s.”

“Your sister’s? Where do you live?”

She answered as if she were being interrogated. “I live at The Garden Arms.”

“The Garden Arms? Well, la-ti-da. The price just went up.” Tommy Lee threw his head back and gave another hearty laugh.

“I’m acting on my sister’s behalf. We would just like a price. I intend to ask others and take the best offer.”

“Lady, after that storm, you are at a tree man’s mercy. Everybody in the business is pickin’ and choosin’, and demanding top dollar. It may be months before you get your work done. Do your sister a favor, when someone gives you a price ask to see their license, make sure they are bonded, and tell them you need a certificate of insurance. No cash up front. And if it is an insurance claim, make sure your carrier approves them. You got that? Now get outta here, I got work to do.”

Dr. Deborah A. Finch, editor-in-chief, textbook division, at the Department of Education for the State of Florida, was stunned. She was definitely not used to being talked to in this manner. She turned and stomped to her car as her anger increased. She regretted giving him her name and phone numbers.

Dr. Finch screeched to a halt on her flagstone driveway in her new Volvo. She slammed the car door before marching to her front door. She was mad and talking out loud to no one. “How could I let that imbecile talk to me that way? He’s probably a grammar school drop out, an uneducated buffoon.” She jabbed the numbers on the pad by the door to kill the alarm and went straight to the phone while mumbling to herself, “I’ll call Betty later, after I’ve calmed down, and tell her not to worry. I’ll tell her the tree company down the street couldn’t meet our standards. There has to be many more in the phone book.”

She grabbed the phone book and flipped to the yellow pages and was pleased to find many listings under Tree Service. She quickly eliminated the ones claiming to be a doctor or dentist of trees. “We Can Cure Your Tree Problem.” “We Do Cheap Crown Work.” She also eliminated the ones that listed the name Bubba as owner as in “Eugene and Bubba; We Work Cheap!” She then noticed the ones that stated: Bonded, Licensed, and Insured; References Provided. She remembered what that jerk had said and could feel the anger return. She guided her finger down the list until she reached the T’s, and there it was; Tommy Lee, The Tree Monkey. After listing his credentials there was one small quote: “No Free Estimates.”

“The gall! Who does he think he is? I better inform Betty not to even talk to that man.” She snatched the phone out of its cradle, but there was no dial tone. She slammed it down and fumbled in her purse for her cell. Before calling her sister she checked the listings in the yellow pages again and called the tree companies that were insured and listed a cell number, but all answered with a recording. She left the same message on the ones she could while trying to control her anger. She then left a message for her sister.

The Garden Arms is a horseshoe shaped brick structure of luxury town houses encompassing a city block. Each home faces a street and has a small patch of green adjoining the driveway. But the atrium, created by the design of the building, is like a protected private park, landscaped with shrubbery, green space, and a few large trees at one end and a residence-only pool at the other.

Deborah glanced out through the back door facing the atrium and saw her neighbors picking up limbs and debris scattered by the storm. She immediately felt better. Here were her peers, the educated, the elite, and the true backbone of this country. A small smile started as she went to her utility room and hung up the clothes she was wearing and put on the only work clothes she owned along with some old sneakers.

After shaking her hair over the utility sink to get rid of the remaining bits of sawdust she twisted her hair and secured it with a plastic clip. She didn’t want to exit through the service door by the waste container so she quickly went back to the living room and opened the sliding glass door to exit. Her friends and neighbors waved and called her name. Her anger quickly subsided.

“What can I do to help?” she chimed.

Meanwhile, Tommy Lee, being good at what he does, soon had the fateful trees cut up and piled near the street for a later pick up. Using his truck winch and special rigging he righted the oak tree so it could re-anchor itself. He felt sure the tree had been saved. After cleaning and putting his tools in their proper place he picked up the pad to write the hours spent on this job. He noticed the address and phone numbers that Dr. Deborah finch had written. He started to scratch through them, but smiled. What the hell, she’s a ‘looker’ and she’s single. Who knows? Besides, it’s just a few blocks over. I could ride by and look at it from the street. I’ll call her and talk sweet and tell her what to expect. He finished loading and headed in the sister’s direction.

When Tommy Lee made the last turn before reaching the house he stopped. He could see beyond the roofline. “Oh my God! What a mess.” He rolled slowly to the house and parked while never taking his eyes off of the dangerous predicament of the trees. He walked to the backyard to better survey the situation. He looked up and shook his head. As he turned to leave a movement caught his eye. Something or someone was looking at him through the sliding glass door. He walked closer and stared through the tinted glass. There sat Betty looking like a lost waif confined to her power wheel chair.

She looked up at this tall dirty man with elongated but defined muscles that are acquired doing grinding physical labor on a daily basis. His muscles had lines of demarcation that separated each of the muscles into distinct groups. Tommy Lee’s biceps and triceps, leading away from his broad shoulders, appeared as large lumps hiding under his scarred skin. His body wet T-shirt, clinging to his body, made his defined pectorals more obvious. He stood silhouetted by the disarranged trees looking down at a smiling Betty.

The weak, the unfortunate, and the physically challenged always disturbed Tommy Lee. He didn’t know what to say to them or even how to deal with them. He always felt guilty feeling so superior. But he knew his strength and he knew he could do just about anything he wanted to do as long as it was law abiding. Tommy Lee tightened his lips and walked over to the door handle.

Betty powered over and removed the security bar and unlocked the door.

Tommy Lee took it upon himself to slide it open. “Lady, you got problems.”

“Tell me about it, but what about my trees?”

Tommy Lee laughed. “I meant your trees.” He smiled appreciating her sense of humor and noticing in her own way that she was quite attractive. “You have a grave situation here and that is no pun. You need to get out of this house as soon as possible. You have what we call ‘having lunch at the Y’. You see how this one tree has fallen and split this other one. They both could fall on your home at any moment. It’s very dangerous, and you could be hurt; hurt worse.”

“Hurt worse?” she asked with a laugh.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to say it. Can you stay at your sister’s?”

“You know my sister?”

“She stopped by where I was working today and asked me to look at this. But it’s impossible to give you a price because I don’t know how long it will take, and I may have to bring in a helper. Once I’m up in that mess I can’t leave. But you have to.”

Betty looked up at this tall, ragged, but strong, good-looking man and without thinking offered her less than perfect arm and her withered right hand. She quickly changed hands and offered her normal left hand, and said, “Hello, I’m Betty Calloway.”

Tommy Lee, feeling uncomfortable, took her crumpled hand instead and gently shook it and said, “I’m sorry. I was rude. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Tommy Lee, The Tree Monkey.”

“Tommy Lee, is this something you can do? Are you an honest and fair person?” Dr. Calloway asked, appreciating this working man’s manners.

“Yes ma’am, but I don’t give discounts. I work hard, I work fast, and I expect to get paid. No matter what, you need to get out of this house.”

“Or I will get hurt worse?” She smiled again.

“Yes ma’am.”

“When could you start?”

“I can work a couple of hours now and relieve the pressure with riggings. But anything can go wrong so please call your sister. I’ll be back early tomorrow.”

“Do you have a contract?”

“I have copies of all the legal stuff, but I work on a handshake. Who’s your insurance with? Who’s your local agent?”

She told him.

“They know me. Have you called them?”

“The land line phones are out.”

Tommy Lee looked worried. “Do you have a cell phone? Can you call your sister?”

Betty smiled realizing her safety was more important than money to this rugged handsome stranger. “I think I can reach her on her cell.”

“Call her. I’ll take some pictures for the insurance company so they will see the emergency of the situation and then I’ll start to work.”

“We didn’t shake hands.”

“I thought we did.”

“That was an introduction. Now we need a contractual hand shake.”

Tommy Lee laughed and extended his hand. “I guess we got us a deal. Call your sister.”

Dr. Finch came in for a drink of water and checked her cell phone. Her sister had called. She calmly returned the call. “You did what? I don’t believe you hired that Neanderthal, that imbecile. How did he trick you into this? I hope you didn’t sign anything?”

“Better than that, we shook hands.”

“Oh, Elizabeth!” she said with exasperation.

“He said for you to come get me, that the house is not safe. The trees are in some sort of precarious situation. He called it ‘having lunch at the Y’ or something like that. Wait. He’s at the sliding glass door again. Let me call you back.” She maneuvered her chair to the door and opened it with a smile. “I think she’s coming. Is everything all right?”

Tommy Lee’s attire was striking. His spike harness was strapped to his calves and boots. The shinny spikes jutted out from each instep forcing him to stand bow-legged. Around his waist was a thick wide leather belt with hooks and rings and short pieces of chain hanging from strategic locations. In the center of the belt was a broad leather strap that hung like a giant flat penis, wavering in Betty’s face. A metal safety catch at the end made dinging sounds on the concrete patio. His skullcap was in one of his gloved hands.

To Dr. Elizabeth Calloway, Latin scholar, Tommy Lee looked like a gladiator ready to enter the Coliseum and fight to the death.

In an anxious voice she asked, “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to climb that tree and rig some cable with my come-a-long to the base of that big oak. The sun is going down and I need to hurry while there is still light. I want you to move to the front of the house and park yourself in a doorway. My added weight might trigger a collapse, and a doorway is the strongest part of any house. Call your sister and tell her to hurry.”

“If it collapses won’t you get hurt? Hurt worse?”

He smiled and said, “If I do, call 911, but don’t give them my name; they may not come.”

“Can I watch?” she asked with laughter in her voice.

“No, it’s too dangerous. I’m going to drop some limbs without guide ropes and I won’t be able to control their fall.”

“But what if I’m way over there in the corner of the yard?”

Tommy Lee turned and looked across the yard and then back at Betty. “How will you get there?”

“In this chair, these are all terrain pneumatic tires on this baby. I can go just about anywhere. That way, when you get hurt I’ll be safe and can call 911.”

Tommy Lee thought for a minute and then laughed. “That’s not a bad idea. In fact it’s a good idea, but let’s hurry.”

“Maybe if I prove myself you can hire me and take me on your jobs.”

“Get over there,” he said with a look and a laugh.

“I wish I had my camera.”

“Here use mine. Now hurry. Okay?”

“Yes sir.”

When Dr. Deborah Finch returned to her condominium after apologizing and telling her neighbors good bye, she heard her cell phone’s ring tone. She hurried to catch it thinking it must be Betty calling back. “Hello, Betty?”

“No, this is Larry. I’m in the tree service business and someone from this number called my number.”

“I’m sorry, but I’ve called several companies trying to find someone to help me. Which one are you?”

“Armstrong Tree Service. I’m Larry; I’m the owner. I try to return all calls, but if this is not an emergency, call me back in a week. We are only handling emergency calls at this time.”

“Wait! Don’t hang up. I need your help.”

“Lady, I don’t have a lot of time. What’s up?”

“I have a dishonest tree person at my sister’s home scaring her into hiring him to do a little tree work all on a handshake. He called it ‘having Lunch at the Y’. My sister is wheelchair bound and doesn’t know any better. I am thinking about calling the police and have them meet us there. They could remove him so your company could take over at your convenience.”

“Excuse me. The tree company working there called your situation, ‘having lunch at the Y’? Do you know the name of this company?”

“No, he didn’t say, but he did say his name is Tommy Lee.”

There was a long pause then laughter erupted. “Put him on the phone.”

“Excuse me?”

“Put that crazy son of a bitch on the phone. I don’t have time for this. Some of us have to work for a living.”

Larry Armstrong was still laughing when she said, “He’s not here. He’s at my sister’s.”

The laughing quieted down. “Is this a serious call? Did Tommy Lee put you up to this?”

“I can assure you he did not, and I want him gone from the property.”

“Did he tell you that you have a situation and called it ‘having lunch at the Y’?”

“Yes he did. Are you going to help me?”

“Lady, you are either crazy or just plain stupid. I wouldn’t come over there and tangle with Tommy Lee for all the money in Fort Knox for several reasons. One, he is my best friend. Two, no one wants to make Tommy Lee mad. Three, he is one of the smartest individuals I have ever known. And four, he is the best in this business. I have tried for years to get him to come work for me and so has everyone else, except Eugene and Bubba. If he agreed to help your sister with a ‘having lunch at the Y’ situation, count your blessings you’re in the best of hands. I don’t know you. You may be smart or dumber than a box of rocks, but my advice is get over there and help your sister. Tell Tommy Lee Larry said, Hello. Good bye.” He hung up.

Deborah Finch was stunned. She sat there for a minute before realizing her phone was telling her she had a message. It was from Betty. After listening to the message she rushed from the house in a panic not stopping to change out of her work clothes and old sneakers. The plastic clip firmly held her wadded up hair on top of her head.

When Deborah Finch arrived at her sister’s she saw Tommy Lee’s truck parked on the street. The sound of a running chain saw disturbed her. She entered through the front door instead of walking around the outside of the house, not wanting to make the same mistake. She hurried with a panic walk down the hall calling for Betty. The din of the chain saw echoed through the house. She didn’t understand why it was so loud until she saw the sliding glass door standing wide open. Fear caused the beating of her heart to drown out the irritating cacophonous sound of the chain saw. She ran towards the open door whispering her missing sister’s name, “Betty?”

Before she reached the opening she saw Betty in the far corner of the yard clutching something to her chest. She was looking up towards the roof of the house with an expression of worry, fear, and anxiety on her face. The sound of the chain saw increased in volume as she neared the doorway, then ceased. An agonizing thought managed to flash through her mind, What has he done to my sister?

She was about to fly through the open doorway to rescue her only living relative when a huge limb with many branches crashed to the ground right in front of her missing her by inches. She screamed for her life as she fell back into the house. When her head hit the ceramic tile floor her plastic hair clip went flying.

“Debbie? Deborah?” Betty called to her sister and then screamed for Tommy Lee, but it was unnecessary.

Tommy Lee was rapidly flipping the leather belt around the trunk of the tree as he stuck his spikes in and jerked them out as he hurried down the tree like a monkey, a tree monkey. He was on the ground unhooking and running towards the house before Betty could scream again. He grabbed the limb and with a fit of adrenaline strength threw it to one side.

Dr. Deborah Finch was lying prostrate on the floor with arms and legs spread.

“Are you okay?” Tommy Lee asked as he stepped through the doorway.

She sat up rubbing her head. “I think so.”

“Which is it? Crazy or stupid?” he asked trying not to laugh.

“A little of both, thank you,” she said as she struggled to rise.

“Here, give me your hand.” Tommy Lee concealed another laugh as he pulled Dr. Finch to a standing position. He noticed again her attractiveness.

She blinked her eyes and rubbed her head.

He held her hand and gently stroked her arm to make sure she was stable. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m afraid so,” she managed to say with a weak smile.

“Is she okay? Is she hurt?” Dr. Elizabeth Calloway shouted, while using her joystick to maneuver her power wheel chair with all terrain pneumatic tires around the cut off branches. She needed to check on her disabled sister.

Tommy Lee stepped out of the doorway. “She’s fine. Just bumped her head, maybe it knocked some sense into her, but I doubt it. Why in the world did I agree to do this?” he asked looking up at the sky. “I probably should just vacate the premises.”

Betty looked up at an exasperated Tommy Lee and asked, “Are you coming back?”

Tommy Lee looked down at a sad worried face. He watched her less than normal hand involuntarily clutch and re-clutch his camera. The fingers seem to be responding and listening to a separate brain.

She looked down catching her hand in the act of thinking for itself. Her good hand reached over and snatched the camera away and offered it to Tommy Lee. Betty looked up and with a sly smile said, “You can’t quit. We have a handshake.”

Tommy Lee stood looking at Betty’s pretty face, her trusting smile, and her raised eyebrows before answering with a smile of his own. As he tightened the draw straps on the backs of his almost finger-less gloves he said in a new softer voice, “Get your sister out of the house. Make sure you control her. When y’all are safe I’ll finish the rigging, and I’ll be back in the morning to finish the job, Boss.” He turned and walked bow-legged clinking and laughing towards the tree trunk.

Tommy Lee waited and watched Deborah Finch fumble like a morning-after drunk. She held her head as she tried to step through the severed tree limbs. The ends of the small limbs pulled at her clothing and snagged her hair in wispy clumps. Tommy Lee enjoyed her frustration as she snatched her hair free and struggled for secure footing. Her sister Betty guided her across the yard. Deborah flopped on the ground by her sister’s wheel chair. Betty straightened her sister’s hair and patted the top of her head.

To Tommy Lee they looked cute, too cute. After swinging his climbing strap around the tree and hooking it in place Tommy Lee shouted in the their direction. “Be sure to close that door tight tonight. I’ve seen several species of tree dwelling snakes up here, let alone hundreds of insects, some poisonous.”

That announcement sobered them both. Debbie jumped up and ran towards the sliding glass door. She deftly jumped the limbs like hurdles on an Olympic obstacle course. After securing the door, she turned and leaped back over and through the limbs as if the limbs were a pit full of vipers. She quickly sat down while huffing and wiping stray strands of blonde hair from her face.

Tommy Lee threw his head back and roared.

The two sisters set side by side, one in a wheel chair and one on the ground. They held hands and watched in amazement as Tommy Lee flipped his support belt up the tree while sticking his spikes. He alternated in a rhythmic pattern, sticking in and jerking out and flipping his belt. He scurried up the pine tree like a tree dwelling primate.

The sisters were in awe and completely entertained.

While Tommy Lee secured the riggings Debbie’s cell phone signaled an incoming call. “Hello?”

“Ma’am, this is Larry Armstrong. “I didn’t get your name, but is Tommy Lee working alone?”

“Yes, he is.”

“I figured. He knows he shouldn’t do that kind of work by himself.”

“And my name is Dr. Deborah Finch.”

“Dr. Finch, that’s great. Dr. Finch, this is very dangerous work, but if he gets hurt, at least there’ll be a doctor close by.”

“I’m not a medical doctor, Mr. Armstrong.”

“Oh, you’re one of them. Give me the address and tell him I’ll send my boy over there tomorrow morning at seven. He knows he could use an extra hand.”

Dr. Finch being herself couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Do you have pen and paper ready?”

“Yes ma’am. Just give me the address and tell him we will square up at Jake’s at the end of the month.”

She gave him the address while thinking, They eat at Jake’s? She had been dreaming of going to Jake’s, the new exclusive French restaurant, but they were booked for months in advance. How can these common workers afford Jake’s?

Tommy Lee, high in the tree, secured a stout chain around a yoke, but just above a thick limb so it couldn’t slide down. He hooked his come-a-long to the chain and let the weight of the tool feed out the cable as it lowered itself to the ground. He flipped his belt as he stuck and extracted the boot spikes while descending.

The sisters watched and observed, sharing the appreciation of watching an athlete perform. Once on the ground Tommy Lee could tell by the look in their eyes that neither had ever seen a tree man at work. He dropped his belt of accumulative tools and took a small bow. Betty tried to applaud and almost cheered. Debbie frowned.

“Tommy Lee extracted another chain from his accumulation of tree hardware and proceeded to the giant oak in the back of the yard while pulling his come-a-long. With a whipping movement he sent the heavy chain around the base of the trunk of the giant oak. As the loose end of the chain came flying around the trunk, Tommy Lee caught it with one hand and snagged the come-a-long’s hook in the chain with the other.

Ignoring Debbie’s condescending glare, Betty tried to clap again as he began to ratchet the slack.

The oak stood firm as the pine tree’s weight lifted its pressure off of the sweet gum. With engrained reasoning, Tommy Lee secured the handle of the come-a-long with rope and tape to make sure that no one could undo his success.

With a proud smile, he turned to the two sisters and said, “That should hold. I’ll be back in the morning.”

Deborah Finch jumped up and hurried towards him as Betty put her chair in gear and followed.

“Wait a minute sir!”

With a stern look he said, “I’m not a sir, Ma’am. I’m just Tommy Lee.”

“Well okay, Tommy Lee. Larry Armstrong called and asked me to tell you that he is sending his boy over tomorrow to help you.”

“How did he know I was here? Wait, don’t tell me, I already know.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I may have underestimated you, but Mr. Lee...”

“I’m not Mr. Lee either, just Tommy Lee.”

With a perfunctory smile she said, “There are a few issues that need to be addressed. I need an explanation for the abbreviations and lettering listed in your credentials in the phone book, are you insured, and how can a boy do this kind of work?”

“Ma’am, those abbreviations are for people in the forest industry. I’m a qualified tree surgeon and a certified arborist for all forests from urban city to federal, including national forests. Bo Armstrong is no boy. It’s just how us common folk talk. Look, Bo is bigger than an ox, stronger than an ox, and dumber than an ox. He is the epitome of youth. All he thinks about is getting laid, and from what I hear, he is good at it, but he is also good at tree work. If Bo comes ready to work we’ll have your situation in control by noon. Plus, my insurance covers every job I do including this one. Here is their card. I’ll bring a certificate of insurance tomorrow. See ya.”

“Wait. I don’t mean to be difficult, but your ad said ‘No Free Estimates’, obviously you break your own rules.”

“I didn’t give your sister an estimate. And I’ll tell you why; because I don’t know what might happen. The price in my head could change, depending on the circumstances tomorrow. I charge for an estimate and if I get the job the fee comes off the top. Every one has a brother-in-law or some other jack-leg that says, ‘Get an estimate and I’ll beat the price.’ I don’t like being used. Your sister was honest and right up front with me. I promise you she’ll get more than her dollar’s worth. Is there anything else bothering you, Dr. Finch?”

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to incur your wrath, but...”

“It’s okay. I’m used to it, especially from pretentious women.”

Dr. Deborah Finch bit her tongue and counted and then as calmly as possible said, “One more thing. I forgot to tell you, Larry Armstrong said to tell you that he would square with you at Jake’s at the end of the month.”

“I kinda figured that, Ma’am.”

“None of my business, but do all the tree service companies meet at Jake’s at the end of the month?”

“No, all kinds of people are there from all walks of life including politicians to law dogs, but it’s not open to the public, invitation only, but guest are welcome. It happens two maybe three times a year, great food, and good music. We have a good time.”

Deborah Finch’s face displayed a concerned, thoughtful expression while her mind asked a silent question. I wonder why none of my friends, who have managed to get into Jake’s, never mentioned a banquet room? Maybe they didn’t know there is one. I wonder if I can book it for our staff meeting next month.

“Mr. Tommy Lee, how big is the banquet room at Jake’s?”

“Banquet room? It’s held outside, weather permitting. If it’s inclement weather, the event is postponed.

Her uncomfortable vexed look asked the question before her lips moved. “Outside?”

Tommy Lee stood with a sly smile knowing she wanted to hear more, knowing she was really curious, knowing she really wanted to be invited. He started to leave, paused, and halfway turned.

She was afraid he was going to ask her if she wanted to go, and afraid he wouldn’t.

He only smiled, hefted his load, nodded good-by, and walked to his truck.

Betty powered over in her chair and commented, “Isn’t he magnificent?”

Debbie looked down at her sister, noticing her expression as she watched Tommy Lee walk away. “He’s a real charmer.”

Chapter 2

Tommy Lee was out of his shower before the first hint of a new day came flickering through leafless holes in the thick forest that surrounded his compound. His blonde hair, darkened by wetness, draped around his face. A thought, in the back of his mind, reminded him that today is Sunday and he would most likely not see anyone except Bo Armstrong so why shave? He flipped his hair back and shaved anyway.

When Tommy Lee entered the kitchen to get his day started with strong chicory coffee, Loco was lying by the rear kitchen door. His ears were pointed up like triangular antennae and his bobbed tail, which rarely wagged, twitched. He waited until Tommy Lee was well into the kitchen before he raised his head to acknowledge.

Tommy Lee didn’t know where Loco had come from. He thought maybe out of the thick woods that lay to the west of his compound because that’s where he first saw him walking up and down the edge of the forest acting crazy. At first Tommy Lee thought he was rabid and considered shooting him to end a potential problem, but when Tommy Lee, carrying his rifle approached, the dog ran back into the woods.

Maybe he’s not rabid. Well, I know the real test. Tommy Lee mused to himself as he went back into the house and returned with an old pie tin of cooked chicken scraps and a chipped bowl of water.

Tommy Lee peeked out of the back bedroom window and watched. Finally, the dog came crawling out of the woods on his belly sneaking up on the food.

Rabid dogs don’t eat. Maybe he ain’t so loco.

Later, the dog just moved in uninvited, but earned his keep. Loco kept all intruders; two and four legged, at bay.

Tommy Lee opened the back door and Loco ambled onto the deck, down the steps, and loped off to do his business. He returned to the smell of fried meat scraps that Tommy Lee had placed in his pie tin.

On rare occasions Loco would request a scratch or a pat on the head, but not from a stranger, including even friendly female visitors. Tommy Lee faithfully took a muzzled Loco to the vet for his annual shots, but other than that they just acknowledged each other’s existence. They were both loners.

Tommy Lee cleaned up the breakfast mess, nodded at Loco lying on the deck, and headed across the well-kept lawn. He went through the gate that separated the living part of the compound, as Tommy Lee called it, from the working part. It was important to Tommy Lee to keep them separate. Loco had his own path.

When Tommy Lee arrived at seven that morning, the back of Bo Armstrong’s baseball hatted head rested against the driver’s window of his jacked-up four-wheel drive custom painted pick-up. Black curls rolled out from the back edge of his hat as if anchoring it to his head. Bo was eating his fast food breakfast while studying intensely the pictorials in a man’s magazine. With his music so loud, he couldn’t hear Tommy Lee drive up.

Tommy Lee, with his climbing harness and spikes draped over his shoulder, carried his bow saw in one hand and his trim saw in the other. He could hear the booming of the music before he reached the truck. He sat the heavier bow saw down and banged on the window. Bo jumped almost spilling his coffee. He powered his window down and smiled, “Hey Tommy Lee, how ya doin’?”

“Morning, Bo. If the chain saws don’t make you deaf that loud music surely will. Are ya lookin’ for a bride?”

“Not me. Not with all the free stuff roamin the range. Here. Check this out.”

“That’s okay. I’ll be in the back when you finish your breakfast. I need to make sure the lady of the house hasn’t returned.”

“Tommy Lee, I went around back and took a gander. That’s a real mess. You goin’ up?”

“It is my job, so I better do the climbing.”

“I’ll go up if you want me to, but this is Sunday and I got a date with a pretty little Christian girl this afternoon, and I don’t want to take any chances.”

“You taking her to church, I presume?”

“No way, but I am going to show her how my rod and staff will comfort her.” Bo laughed at his own humor.

Tommy Lee smiled enjoying Bo’s youthful attitude of exactly what is important when you are twenty and driven by unpacifiable hormones. He reached for his bow saw and said, “If you want to get off early, we better get to work. We might need that come-a-long in the back of your truck. And Bo, I’m counting on your grunt.”

“Don’t worry, Tommy Lee. Daddy told me about you havin a ‘eatin lunch at the Y’ situation so I kissed the girls goodbye early and was in bed by two.”

Tommy Lee rolled his eyes and allowed a small laugh to escape as he shook his head. “Thanks, I’ll be around back. Bring that extra rope, too. Once we get it on the ground you can take off and save that little Christian girl from the Antichrist.”

“Save her from who?”

Tommy Lee just shook his head and headed to the back yard of Dr. Elizabeth Calloway, who is called Betty by her friends. He was glad no one was home.

Neither Tommy Lee nor Bo intended to stop for lunch. They wanted to reach a stopping point as early as possible. Tommy Lee knew having Bo here to help was a favor and an asset so he wanted to put the problem on the ground as soon as possible where he could handle it by himself. Although he realized a bigger problem was waiting. There was no way to get a crane truck in this back yard. He would have to skid the logs with a winch to the front yard. He wasn’t looking forward to the tedious job, but at least he had Bo Armstrong today, and Bo knows trees.

Tommy Lee using his spikes and belt scampered up the tree. He could feel and hear the two trees resist and groan with his weight. Timing was critical. Knowing that at any time the situation could turn nasty, he used no ropes or riggings. Tommy Lee, before cutting a limb, would look down making sure Bo heard him when he shouted, “Headache.” From his different perches in the top of the trees Tommy Lee appreciated Bo and his efficiency and smiled watching him. Bo, the ground man, was covered in sawdust and wood chips that clung to his sweat drenched body. He was running a trim saw while keeping an eye on what Tommy Lee was doing with a sandwich stuck in his mouth at the same time. Tommy Lee knew that sandwich had to be coated with wood dust. Tommy Lee smiled. Yep, that’s us. We live it; we eat it.

After felling the pine, Tommy Lee was close to finishing the dangerous section of the aging gum tree when he shouted down to Bo, who had arranged the hunks of wood into manageable piles. “Bo, I think we got it where I can handle it tomorrow. If you want to get cleaned up a little you could take off. I don’t want you to miss out on saving that little Christian girl from hell fire and damnation.”

“Don’t worry, I’m going to show her what heaven is all about, but first I need to get these tree bumps lined up for tomorrow. It’ll be a lot easier.”

Tommy Lee was flipping his belt as he lowered himself on what was left of the gum tree wondering what Bo meant about tomorrow. When he finally touched the earth his body reacted to the realization of firmness. He had been suspended and spiking for hours. It was a strange sensation that a tree man never gets used to. His body was covered in jagged snakes of crusted white from the salt excretions, and his harnessing was damp with his exertions.

“Bo, what did you mean about tomorrow?”

“I built a sled that hooks up to my ATV just for situations like this. We can skid these bumps out of here so you can crane them into your trash truck.”

“Are you coming back tomorrow morning?”

“For sure man, I can’t leave you like this. I’m going to give you another half-day. Daddy won’t mind and my way will save a lot of time. I’ll get these bumps to the street and then you are on your own.” Bo laughed and then said, “Just bring that big trash truck with the boom and you can load while I skid. Is that okay with you, Tommy Lee?”

“Thanks, Bo.”

“Tommy Lee, if it’s all right, I’m going to shower under that garden hose. I brought a change of clothes cause I don’t want no chain saw smell in my nice truck. And look at me; I look like I’m part tree.”

Tommy Lee laughed an appreciating laugh and with an acknowledging tone said, “Bo, I’ll finish trimming, take your shower.”

Bo smiled as he turned and ran to his truck. He returned with a gym bag while coming out of his shirt. He sat on a log and unlaced his boots. Even his socks were wet with sweat. As he peeled the wet clothes from his body he crammed them into plastic shopping bags along with his boots and hat. He turned on the hose and never hesitated before jumping under it and screaming, “My God, this water’s colder than a witch’s tit.”