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G E T S C R O O D 
Copyright Clete Goffard 2009
 
"Evanly!"
 
Sir Evanly Scrood 
 
winced as he heard the discordant summons, as if from a great distance.Elizabeth, regarding him intently, smiled. "Can it be that a goose walked over your grave, Sir Evanly?" sheasked with amusement.Evanly shook his handsome head and replied gallantly, "My Queen, Nothing more than a passing cloud." 
"Evanly!" The summons came again, louder and clearer.
  Elizabeth rose and said, "I think we shall bid one another adieu, for now. Matters of state are pressing." "As you command, Your Royal Highness," replied Evanly leaping to his feet and bowing. He took Elizabeth'shand in his and pressed his lips to it, perhaps a bit too long, but she did not withdraw it. Her gaze met his eyes,and for a brief moment they shared the hint of forbidden passion they dared not openly admit.
"HALLOOOO!" This time the sound was near at hand and Evanly was suddenly transported from a palacegarden to a familiar bedroom in Winnipeg, and he opened his eyes to see the face of his father in the doorway."You'll be tardy for school, lad, if you don't light a fire. Your breakfast's on the table."Later that afternoon, Evanly and his friend R.T. hiked to their "private place" not too far from their homes.Little more than an accident of property use, it was twenty by forty foot pytle between a precipitous bank above a little-used rail line, and a curving, highway access road, which was concealed from view by decorative plantings,and a chain link fence. Few people dreamed it was there. Once in a while they found evidence that atransient had stopped, but it was miles from the facilities of the Salvation Army and other groups concerned withthe welfare of the homeless.R.T. extracted two cans of Coors from a hiding place and they lay on the ground with an old log as a back restand savored the beer. They had grown accustomed to drinking it in Continental fashion, at ambienttemperature.When the had finished R.T. set up his empty can on a small gravelly mound and removed a buried bag form beneath leaves, taking a crossbow from it."Silent death!" hissed R.T. as he squeezed the latch of the crossbow and sent a bolt which just missed the can."Close enough," he decided, " You don't have to hit the heart. What you have there is is one sick hombre with a bolt through his lung." The second shot pierced the can to his gratification, but after collecting his bolts he put the bow away and zipped up the carrying case.R.T. extracted a package of thin cigars from his case, passed one to Evanly, and they lit up, puffing away andready for serious thinking."The meeting is now in order," announced R.T., "Are there any bright ideas from the audience?"The ongoing topic of discussion, as it had been for some months, was the satisfactory resolution of a problemR.T. (Robert Tremaine Armstrong) had summarized as , "Our generally depressing future."R.T.'s father, as far as Evanly was interested in knowing, made a good living by his skill in deciphering wheatfutures.He worked for a big company that sold wheat overseas, and R.T. had once been given a tour of his dad'soffice, the walls of which were covered with large colored maps of all the wheat producing areas of the world. Hewas determined that Robert Tremaine have a career in the milling industry.The following yer R.T. had spent two weeks traveling around the the Province on dusty potholed roads with anold fart named Chambers, peering into steel grain bins and manipulating a contraption that took grain samples.Old Chambers' hernia made it difficult for him to do this, but nobody knew more about wheat than old Chambers.R.T. found the rural solitude and endless grainfields depressing and decided there must be a better way to make aliving, but he was damned if he knew what it was.Evanly's plans for the future were equally unformed. Their mutual problem they decided at one session, wasthat neither of them had any talent, inclination, or interest worth developing. That, decided R.T. was virtually akiss-of-death in the modern world where there was more and more specialization,and a horde of wannabes whohad big dreams but really weren't good for much of anything, even with training.The future was already laid out for the wannabe's. They would take the best job they could get, something theywere trained for, get married, produced children,acquire a house and mortgage if fortunate, if not, manage a flat, put in thirty or forty years, retire, stare at the walls in an elderly care facility for a few years, and then oblivion--
 
all the while imagining that magic was going to happen and everything wouldn't end like that. But it always did.At one session they fantasized about moving to Miami, or some such place, and do big drug deals--but commonsense told them that big time crime was out of their league. Pretty much anything big time was out of their league.Shit.The current session seemed to be going nowhere, as usual.The conclusion that they usually reached was tocontinue going to school until they got kicked out or the money ran out, and by then they might have decided on amajor.The boys puffed on their cigars and watched the afternoon sun make patterns on the ground.It was shiningthrough the foliage of a giant old elm tree, and the pattern of shadows produced by the branches moving in the breeze created an almost hypnotic pattern.To dispel the ennui, Evanly said in the familiar prelude to a game they often played, "I saw a good movie theother day--a Classic.""This was in black and white, right?" asked R.T."Yep," said Evanly, "It starred Edward G. Robinson and Bette Davis, and was called,
Moxie
."Hey," said R.T., "Sounds good. How does it go?" He leaned back against the log and closed his eyes tovisualize the story."Well," said Evanly, "Edward G. was this pudgy little gangster--""He
was
a pudgy little guy," commented R.T."Right. He lived in this fancy place with his moll, Moxie, played by Bette Davis. E.G. worked for a mafia typecalled "Mr. Salvatore,", and she got tired of hearing about what a great guy Mr. Salvatore was. One day he says toher, " 'Moxie, we got a date tonight with Mr. Salvatore and his lady friend. I want you to watch your mouth because she is a real classy broad, see?' "" Bette Davis says, 'What. A. Bore!' ""Now this pisses E.G off, and he comes back with, 'If it wasn't for Mr. Salvatore, we couldn't afford a classydump like this, get it? Don't give me no trouble.'""Bette Davis replies, 'What. A. Bore!' This is really the limit for E.G. He slaps her across the face and knocksher to the floor, where she is on her hands and knees with blood running out of her mouth.""He digs into the pocket of his overcoat and pulls out a huge wad of bills and throws it onto the carpet in frontof her. 'Here,' he says, 'Get yourself some glad rags!' ""Hey," said R.T., "I saw that movie. I remember the part about him throwing the wad of bills at her. Then heturns and goes out, slamming the door, right?""Right. But they never made it. All my imagination, compadre.""I would have sworn I saw that movie, " said R.T. shaking his head in mock disbelief. "So what happens then?""Well, it goes on like that. They get in a fight, he slaps her around, then he throws a wad of bills at her andsays, 'Get youself some glad rags,' or 'get yourself some new duds.' ""...'til one day when he comes back looking like his best friend died, and tells her, 'Moxie,I'm gonna level withyou. We're busted. I had some ideas, see, but everything went bad and they didn't work out.' ""She stares at him like he was a worm and says, 'What. A. Bore!' He tries to talk to her --'Stick with me, baby,and it can't help but get better. We can make it, Moxie!' "" She drages her suitcases out of the closet and starts packing. The funny thing is, she keeps digging wads of  bills out of the closet and throwing them into her bag. She must have a small fortune. The she walks to the door with her bags, looks at him like he was dog meat, and says, you guessed it, 'What. A. Bore!' "" His prospects go from bad to worse. We see him being turned away from a hamburger stand because he hasno credit. We see him standing in soup lines. In the last scene he is walking along a street with string tied aroundhis shoes to keep the soles from flapping. His gloves have the fingers worn through. His coat collar is turned upagainst the cold.""A fancy car stops nearby and he asks the woman passenger (who is Moxie, but he doesn't recognize her),'M'am, can you spare a dime for a cup of coffee?' "" She takes a silver dollar out of her purse and throws it at him. He reaches for it, but misses it, and it rollsacross the pavement into the grating of a storm sewer. He's on his hands and knees staring down through thesewer grating, trying to find the dollar."" Just then the car passes him, and Bette Davis leans out of the window and says, 'What. A. Bore!' "" He looks up and asks, 'Moxie? Is that you Moxie?' He runs after the departing car with his shoe solesflapping, shouting, 'Moxie! Come back, Moxie!' Ta da da da da, ta da. The End."
 
 
CHAPTER TWO
 
Evanly's mother was troubled in some way by the Coronation picture of Elizabeth II, Regina, that he had putup in a handsome frame and hung on the wall of his bedroom.Apparently she was bothered by her deduction thatsince Evanly had paid good money--part of his earnings from his Saturday job ar Welk's Housewares Emporium--for the frame, this signified an unknown and disturbing trait to his personality. There already was a color  photograph of Elizabeth, Phillip and Charles, discretely displayed in the dining room, which her husband oftenreferred to as 'The Holy Family.'"Let the lad be," Eldred had cautioned her one evening at the meal, "The boy's got good grades and is well-liked by all. No trouble to anyone--no trouble at all. You worry about a picture in a bedroom." His eyes met Evanly'sand he gave his son a conspiratorial wink which signified, " We have to keep these damn silly women out of our  business, eh?"After supper, Evanly had a leisurely bath and trimmed his toenails.He could hear his parents delighted laughter from some show they were watching on television--an old Benny Hill skit, no doubt. He felt sleepy and decided toturn in. There were, perhaps, more serious concerns awaiting his alter ego, Sir Evanly Scrood, paladin to She WhoMust Be Obeyed.
 His anticipation proved correct, for no sooner had he settled in his favorite Morris chair at the Club than Pickering came
hurrying 
up with the news that A Certain Person required his immediate assistance. Sir Evanlytossed off his brandy, strode out into the evening air, and slipped behind the wheel of his dove-grey Bentley. Elizabeth's summons was important, he knew, for she had often reminded him that he was the only person SheCould Really Trust in the most delicate and demanding situations. Not like that other fellow--Bond, was it?--who was apt to chase after the first well-filled-out skirt he encountered. 
Welk's Housewares Emporium was in a corner building in a modest to poor neighborhood. George and DorothyWelk , the proprietors, carried a little bit of everything for around the house. If you had to fix an alley gate on theweekend, you could find a new hasp at Welk's, a pint of paint to paint the gate,and a "No Trespassing Sign." The prices were high, but a short trip to Welk's and you could be done with the job in the AM, leaving the afternoonfree for the real weekend.There were also a few kitchen curtains and curtain rods, miles of shelf lining, screening, and so on, as well as pots and pans, paring knives, et cetera. Dorothy ran the store side of the business, having a local girl who came intwice a week to help out.This part of the business barely paid the overhead of the store.Dorothy always closedearly, around three o'clock, or so, and went home to do her housework and prepare the evening meal, at which timeGeorge took over.George managed the money-making side of the busienss, which was the sale of reconditioned stoves,refrigerators, washer, driers, and an occasional air conditioning unit. He also cut glass, should a customer want awindow pane. If you were a young couple setting up housekeeping, or a landlord, Welk's is where you went to geta nice looking appliance at a modest cost.Evanly had been working for Welk's on Saturdays for almost two years. Welk was tall and rangy with a weather  burned face--more like a mountain climber than an appliance repairman. This Saturday, George was in his officeoff the back of the store working on his books. He was also planning a weekend trip the following morning.When Evanly had begun work there, George had briefly harbored the notion of turning him into a refrigerator repairman. This ended when in a routine part replacement job Evanly had cross-threaded a brass fitting andcranked it as tight as possible with a spanner a size too large so that he rounded the corners on the hex nut. Welk,inspecting the job, considered that it revealed such a total lack of mechanical aptitude that further instruction wasa waste of time. He set Evanly about other tasks--repainting kick plates and cleaning the incoming refrigeratorsand stoves. So Evanly's day became one of soaking and scraping off dried tomato paste and other blackened blotches that hopefully we once food from 'fridges, and attempting to return blackened ovens to somethingresembling their original color.Most of the incoming appliances were stored in a shed with open sides and a concrete slab floor. The rest of the back of the lot was jammed with unsalable appliances rusting away which George got around to hauling off once ayear or so. Welk had an antique flatbed truck, and once or twice a month he and the young Scrood made rounds picking up appliances from dealers who had taken them in trade, or delivering mechandise to customers. Welk wasa bull of a man, and he could haul a refrigerator strapped yo a dolly up a narrow stairway without assistance.He also cut glass, and sold reconditioned stoves, refrigerators, washer, driers, and an occasional air conditioningunit.On this particular morning, with George occupied, Evanly was sent to a nearby junkyard to pick up a small
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