it all began on a dusty morning in springfield indiana on may 7, 1963.
jed mansfield got up early.
his wife judy was sleeping peacefully. judy’s dog, bartholomew, was also sleeping peacefully, curled up at judy’s feet.
jed was expected at his job at mac fisher’s car lot at eight o’clock sharp.
but first he had to make a trip up to the liquor store on highway 39 to buy his grandmother a quart of bourbon .
then he had to deliver it to her at her home in grand platte nebraska, just past the new combination missile base and space station.
jed got dressed, being careful to get the knot in his red and blue striped tie just right.
then he made himself a cup of instant coffee. this was always the best part of his day.
as he was drinking his instant coffee, a strange thought crossed his mind.
the day will come, the thought said, when you will look back on all this and wish you had it back - that this is as good as it will ever get.
what a strange thought, jed thought.
when he finished his cup of coffee he went back into the bedroom to get his hat.
he looked down on judy’s sleeping form, and on batholomew’s.
he started to count the ways judy had disappointed him, but realized he did not have time.
jed bought the bottle of bourbon on route 39 without incident, but as he was crossing the state line from illinois to iowa things began to happen.
he heard a siren and a black police car came up behind him and pulled him over.
jed was not really in the mood for such an occurrence but what could you do? he was sure he had not been speeding and maybe the cop was a regular guy like jed and jed could talk him out of a ticket.
what have i done this time, officer, jed asked in a friendly but not in a scared or obsequious manner.
you have violated rule 24-f, my friend, the officer replied, in a neutral tone.
and what might rule 24-f be? jed enquired.
if you don’t know now, you probably never will know, the officer replied cryptically. follow me, and you can tell your sad story to judge harsh.
jed followed the police car down the highway for two miles and then it turned off down a dirt road .
after a couple of minutes they came to a small town of the type general custer slept in, or maybe jesse james or charles lindbergh or james dean.
the police car stopped in front of a little white house that looked a boarding house but jed decided must be the court house.
there was a sign in the window of the white house, and when jed got out of his car, he saw that it did not say “rooms for rent” or “clean rooms” but “judge harsh - open for business”.
jed followed the trooper into the white house.
there was a little hall inside the door and just to the left of it was a room with a desk and judge harsh was seated behind the desk writing on a notebook and the judge looked up at the trooper and jed.
jed got the shock of his life.
judge harsh was a woman!
an old, nasty-looking woman who looked like every mean old dried-up schoolteacher waving a ruler who ever lived rolled into one.
what has this fellow done, judge harsh asked the trooper.
rule 24-f.
judge harsh nodded. you can go, she told the trooper.
the trooper left, and jed was left alone with the judge, whose expression did not soften in any degree.
well, young man, let’s get down to it. sixty days in my jail, which i assure you was not built with your comfort in mind, or you can do me a favor.
this is plain dealing with a purpose, jed thought, but he said aloud, what is rule 24-f?
the judge shrugged. i could give you some kind of answer, but what would be the point? sixty days, or do me a favor. the choice is yours.
is your jail as bad as all that? jed asked.
it surely is.
why, are the guards mean sons of bitches?
no, they are fat. lazy slobs who spend half their so-called working hours sleeping. but the coffee is the worst you ever tasted, and the cornpone they serve for breakfast is the worst you ever tried to force down your gullet.
how about lunch and dinner?
you will be lucky if you get any. stop wasting my time, young man, what will it be, sixty days or help me out?
well, what is the favor that you ask?
i thought you would never ask. i just want you to kill my neighbor’s dog.
but i like dogs, jed protested. way more than people.
too bad. make up your mind, i have not got all day.
what kind of a dog is it?
no more questions.
jed shrugged. all right, i will kill your neighbor’s dog.
good, it is just down the street, a gray house with green shutters. but in case you are too dumb to find it, here are some directions. the judge handed jed the piece of paper she had been writing on when jed and the trooper entered.
jed took the piece of paper and went outside.
the trooper was gone. the sky was blue. a rocket ship crossed the horizon, on its way to neptune or uranus.
maybe i could just drive away, jed thought. but i am not that kind of guy.
he found the gray house with green shutters. the street was quiet all around it. there was no sign of a dog, or of anything.
jed pressed the doorbell of the gray house, but did not hear it ring, and nobody came to the door.
he knocked on the door of the gray house. three times, with no answer.
he tried the door. it opened easily.
he went inside. the house was quiet, and seemed empty.
there was a small television, with a rabbit ears antenna, in a room to the left.
jed turned the television on.
a show was in progress. a little boy was standing at the foot of a long staircase. the little boy had freckles, which were clearly visible even on the black and white tv.
a voice came down the stairs, don’t stay out too long, teddy! accompanied by a laugh track.
i won’t, mom! teddy answered. more laughter.
a tittle dog appeared, wagging its tail.
let’s go, oscar, said teddy.
oscar - what a cute name for a little boy’s dog.
teddy and oscar ran outside, under the gray sky. they ran past a telephone pole, whose wires stretched away across an endless plain.
this is the way it should be, thought jed, this is the way it should be forever.
