George with some inspiration from Nicole...  

Sitting at a table in front of Harv were two couples. They looked to be in their mid to late 40's. They were covered with mud and dirt. Their clothes were damp, and they were generally bedraggled. They had obviously just been through some sort of ordeal.  

A man with long blond hair who was ruggedly handsome came over to Harv and said, "Would you care for a cigarette?"  

Harv replied, "Why, thank you! It looks like you folks have a story to tell. You must've been through a real mess to get here?"  

One of the women with short black hair and piercing black eyes looked up from the table that she was staring at intently. She was an attractive woman with a dark complexion and full lips. She quipped, "Oh, you don't know the half of it!"  

"That's my wife Michelle. We've just been on the vacation from hell. I'm Luke Monissey. That's J.R. Walsh, a good friend of mine, and his wife Mariah," Luke explained.  

"Well, that sounds like an intriguing story. Would you care to share with us?" Harv asked.  

"Well, you see we started out about a week ago. We decided it would be neat to rough it," Luke said.  

"We?" Michelle interrupted. "It was you and J.R. that decided. Mariah and I didn't have a say. You see J.R. thinks he's of real pioneer stock. The truth is he couldn't find his way out of a paper bag!."  

"Oh, come on, Michelle!" J.R. tried to explain. "It wouldn't have been half so bad if the weather would've cooperated."  

"It wasn't bad weather, J.R., that got us lost in the desert! We nearly ran out of gas and would've been stranded there," Michelle replied sarcastically.  

Hoping to break up the tension a little, Harv asked Mariah, "What about you, Mariah? Did you think the trip was a disaster?"  

"Actually, I'm too exhausted to think anything. When we got here I thought, 'Thank God, civilization!' Instead, it looks like we've just arrived in the middle of a disaster," Mariah responded.  

"Come on, now! We can't just dump all of this on poor old J.R.," Luke interjected.  

"Oh, we're not blaming it all on J.R. It was just as much your fault as anyone else's," Michelle snapped. "Like it was your idea we spend the night in the primitive campground. 'Oh, don't worry! There's no bears here.' So a bear nearly eats us after tearing into our tent. We had to spend the night in the suburban with a bear staring at us!" She glanced over at Harv indignantly.  

"Well, nobody told me about the scorpions out in the desert, either! Mariah added. "Or the rattle snake that nearly bit me when I went out one night to go to the bathroom! I jumped up on this big rock and yelled and screamed. These two manly men wouldn't even come around to scare it off. I bet I was stuck up there two hours or more?" She looked at Michelle.  

"Did you know they have these big hairy tarantulas that run around on the sand at night?" Michelle queried Harv indignantly.  

"Yes, I've seen them. They're really quite harmless, though, not at all poisonous like you'd think," Harv answered.  

"They're still deadly. The sight of them alone can give you a heart attack," Michelle retorted.  

"Now, I really don't think it was all that bad until we ran into this rain," Luke protested. "That stupid El Nino can ruin anything."  

"Well, it wasn't El Nino that insisted we camp out in tents with all those weirdoes and serial killers running around out there," Mariah answered. "It just isn't safe in a tent!" She looked around at the other customers for support.  

"Yeah, and about that rain," Michelle chimed in. "Leave it to the Bozos here not to know better than to pitch a tent in a low spot. One night we went to sleep and early the next morning, we awoke to the sound of rushing water. When I looked out of the tent we were in the middle of a raging stream. There were trout swimming beside our tent!"  

"Now, Michelle," J.R. interjected. "I think you're stretching it a bit? There were no trout swimming past our tent."  

"Yeah," Luke added. "That was a drowning squirrel."  

"Squirrel, trout, it doesn't make any difference. In a flood they're all aquatic animals," Michelle said flatly.  

"Anyway, there was no danger. We had a boat there if we needed it," J.R. shot back confidently.  

"Now, I can just see that," Mariah answered. "Boating through the Red Wood Forest. How nice!"  

"What I had in mind was a romantic vacation like Niagara Falls or something like that," Michelle sighed.  

"I think camping is romantic. It's exciting being primitive, close to nature," J.R. observed.  

"Yeah, real romantic, having a big sweaty oaf laying on you as pine cones and needles jab you in the back. What are you, the Marquis de Sade?" Mariah said sarcastically.  

"On top of everything else we got stuck on the way here. We had to get out and push while macho man there steered! That's how we got coated with mud! I tell you next year, we're going with experts. We're taking a tour bus with professional guides and spending every night in a nice motel room," Michelle stated summarily.  

"Well, that does sound like a good idea after what you all have been through," Harv agreed.  

George and Carol...  

About then, a tall, thin man with a mustache, dressed in a dark, three piece vested suit spoke up, "I never was one to spill my guts to a bunch of strangers."  

Harv queried, "And just who might you be, stranger?"  

The man sat down at one of the side tables. He picked up his cup of coffee and took a sip. Then, he took a long drag off a long, dark cigarette. He flipped ashes off the cigarette into an ash tray on the table. Harv continued to stare at him, waiting for an answer.  

Finally, the man spoke up, as if he felt put upon to join. "The name's Winston Atterbury, if it's anyone's business. Look, I just want to get out of this flea bitten little town as soon as possible." He then took another sip of his coffee and uttered, "Damn! This coffee tastes like it sat from yesterday! When did you make it?"  

The waitress, Molly Frederick was just making her rounds with a pot of coffee to refill everyone's cup. She said in a piqued tone, "Excuse me! I didn't know we were entertaining royalty! Look, we're all going to be stuck here together for God knows how long, so we might as well be civil to one another."  

Winston just gave her one of those who cares looks.  

A middle-aged blonde lady who looked like she was due any time sat at the table next to Winston's. Just then, she spoke up. "Hi, my name is Lucille Segway. I was just on the way to the doctor's to get my check up when the rain stranded me here. The doctor said after I was seven months along he wanted to see me every week. I'm supposed to be due in another week, but after seven children, I guess it could come any time. I hope we get out of here soon. My Mother is staying with the kids. I live in Austin and wanted to be home by 5 PM." She went on, "I called them and told them about the flood, so they know I'm in safe harbor. My husband constantly listens to the weather reports, so I know he knows the situation...This soup is good! Is it your own recipe?" Lucille said to a man with a large beer belly, wearing an apron.  

"Why, thank you, lady," he replied. "Yeah, I'm Sarge Bateman. I'm the cook here."  

Lucille continued, "This coffee shop is well known in Austin for great food...."  

Winston interjected, "You couldn't prove it by me."  

Lucille paid little attention. "Last time I was through, I sampled some of your onion rings with a steak sandwich. They just don't have onion rings in Austin like yours. They ruined me for anyone else's onion rings..."  

Winston quipped, "Well, I can see you're no connoisseur."  

Sarge came back angrily, "Look, you ass hole! There's no need to insult everyone because you're in a bad mood. You make one more crack, and you're outa here on your ear!"  

Harv interrupted, "Now, Sarge, just calm down. There's no place for him to go, no matter how rude he is. And you, Mr. Atterbury, you can be a little more civil. I ain't above locking you in Sarge's freezer! Now, go on, Mrs. Segway. The rest of us are interested."  

"Well, anyway, if I hadn't already gained 35 pounds, I'd have some of those onion rings right now...we could all have a sing along..."  

Winston groaned and looked down at his watch.  

"Just kidding," Lucille laughed. "I teach piano and voice on the side. My husband is a judge in Superior Court. He's gone quite a bit, so the lessons give me something to do when he's not at home. Before I was married and had the kids, I taught in elementary school for six years..."  

A rather portly man, probably in his fifties, exclaimed, "I think I know your husband. Is he Judge Wayman Segway of Superior Court Two?"  

"Why, yes," Lucille answered.  

"He's some tough judge. He sentenced me to six months plus community service for my second DWI. At the time I thought it was a railroad job. I only had a couple of beers there at Leo's Tavern in Austin that night three years ago, but that jail time and the mandatory counseling woke me up. I probably wouldn't be here today if I had kept up drinking like I was. I've gone into the AA, and I've been sober three years now. Life hasn't been better. Your husband proved to be a real friend," the man explained.  

"And what's your name?" Lucille queried.  

"My name is Alex O'Leary, Ma'am, and if there's anything I can do for you, you just let me know."  

"Well, can we have an 'Amen' all around. That was very touching," Winston sneered.  

An old lady holding a cup of coffee piped up, "Young man, if my husband were here right now, you'd be pickin' up your teeth off the floor. Why, I don't think I've met anyone quite as rude as you!"  

Harv chimed in, "Oh, forget him, Granny. If he chooses to be miserable, it's his problem."  

"Oh, thank God for country philosophy!" Winston exclaimed.  

"Atterbury, you're about one step away from ending up in the cooler. If you don't think I can do it, Sarge over there will give me a hand!" Harv snipped back.  

Winston, again, stared down at the table.  

Irene...  

The door burst open and one of the town's "characters," Denny, catapulted across the room. His skinny, slight figure with arms and legs flailing gave an instant impression of a marionette with the strings being pulled.  

"Hot dog! At last something important is happening in this dumpy town. Now maybe we'll be on the map and TV crews will show up and all kinds of hell will break loose." Denny punctuated his words with wild motions as his stringy red hair flew about his face.  

Everybody knew Denny by sight as he seemed always to careen around the county roads in his muddy Jeep but he had never really joined any events or conversations. At this moment he was the focus of attention of everyone in the room.  

Someone ventures, "Denny, you sure got a weird sense of joy about what could be a big disaster for all of us. We'd do without the big deal of being in the news if'n we could just get on with our normal lives.  

"Weird, you called me," Denny gurgled. "This whole area is so dead, it's time we got a little excitement around here. Let's us git some music goin' here and do a little jivin' to lighten up the place. Then when the news people come, they'll see we ain't just sittin' around mopin' and havin' a pity party."  

"That'd make news all right," Harv spoke up. "They'd be wonderin' about if we'd all gone crazy jumpin' for joy about a flood It'd make news all right but I don't think it's the kind we want."  

"Tell ya what," Denny interrupted, "let's get things agoin' by everybody tellin' the best joke ya ever heard I'll start! Joke:  

"A motorist was going the wrong way on a one way street, and a cop stopped him and said: Look, buster, where do you think you're going? And the motorist looked up and said: Oh well it's okay, officer, I guess I'm too late anyway. I see everybody's coming back. He he he!"  

Granny looked up from her half-finished cup of coffee. "Young man, we just ain't in the mood for jivin' and jokes right now. Why don't you just set down and help us plan how we're gonna handle our problems. You prolly might have some good ideas if'n you'd get a little serious here."  

"Granny," responded Denny, "yer too old to know much anymore. Besides, I don't feel so good when I get serious."  

"I may be a Granny but I've lived long enough to notice when somebody like you is hiding from his problems."  

"Granny, you just butt out," hissed Denny, shaking a finger at her.  

"That'll do, Denny," Harv remonstrated. "Granny, as you call her, has probably hit the nail right on the head where you're concerned. Why not let us help you while we're all sittin' here together?"  

Denny's head suddenly dropped. He let out a long sigh. "I kin usually git along O.K. iffen' I don't think too hard about stuff. He brushed his sleeve across his nose as tears filled his eyes.  

Granny snapped open her large, worn black purse. After rummaging she pulled out a clean tissue and handed it to Denny. 'Here, Sonny wipe your nose on this." She was silent and then spoke softly, "Sonny, I got some problems at my house. When we can get back on the road again, I'd like you to come over and clean my sidewalks and porches. I can pay you at least the minimum wage people are getting now."  

Denny sniffed but did not answer. Granny continued, "If I remember right you've been living in a room in that square green house on the corner of County 725. Those folks moved out yesterday without paying their rent, so I've an idea you might not have any place to go--let alone if they took all your stuff with them." She bent over, studying Denny's face.  

That don't give me any place to stay." Denny mumbled, almost to himself.  

Harv interrupted, "Denny, Granny's making you an offer to try to help."  

"Okay, okay, I git the message." Denny retorted.  

"Tell you what, Sonny," Granny explained. "I really need someone to do some of the heavy work around my place. You can use my spare room and have some meals in exchange for helping with some of the jobs that need doing. On a trial basis of course. No work, no help, understand. I'm taking more of a chance on this than you are. What do you say?"  

"Wait a minute, Denny," Harv interrupted. "Before you decide to do that, one thing is clear--very clear. I live close enough to Granny's house that I'll have my eye on you every minute. You shape up and this is your best chance. Try anything funny and you'll find me right on your tail since I'm the acting Deputy around here right now. So what do you say?"  

"I ain't very expert on stuff but I sure do need a place to stay for awhile. If Granny don't expect perfection, I kin give it a whirl. But she better not try to tell me how to live my life!" Denny threatened.  

"Take it or leave it, Sonny, I'm not making any promises about how it'll work out!" Granny said.  

Someone spoke up, "Oh, knock it off, Denny. Granny's giving you a place to sleep and food to eat. What more can you expect. Just learn to do your part and don't worry about Granny. She's managed to live a lot longer than any of us, and she's got more than any of us, too. So if she's willing to take a chance on you, you better feel pretty lucky."  

"Awright, already." Denny protested. What's that saying--'any port in a storm'--he, he. Kinda fits don't it," he chuckled, obviously quite pleased with his own wisdom.  

Well, Sonny, you got a sense of humor--weird as it is," Granny offered dryly.  

More George...  

"I wonder where my niece Ray is?" Harv wondered out loud. "She left a message on my recorder earlier she was coming out to see me. She sounded disturbed about something. Seems she always comes to see her old Uncle Harv when something is troubling her. She should be here by now. Sure hope she didn't get stranded on some flooded road. She knows if a flood comes I often come here for company...Oh, well, you two came here with me, and I really don't know anything about you. You don't have to talk if you don't want to."  

The man spoke up, "Well, hell! Everyone else is baring their soul tonight, so why not? I probably won't ever see any of you again. My name is Ronald Benson. I'm in marketing at Dynamics Corporation in Elwood. This is my assistant Janet Donaldson. We were over at Loomis for a trade show. On the way back, we got caught in the floods. Luckily, Harv there rescued us. The rest is all history now."  

"Oh, come on, Ron! Let's just bare our souls all the way! Hell, we may all die tonight. Confession is good for the soul. Ron and I have been having an affair for the last year. The trade show was only a front so we could get away. He thought he was fooling his wife, but she put two and two together. The Sheriff served him with his divorce papers at the hotel in Loomis. He interrupted us in the middle of a torrid love-making session. I thought to myself: 'Well, finally, we can be together.' Boy, was I a sucker. Old Ron was just playing me along. He had no intention of leaving his wife. Rather a bitter irony, don't you think?" Janet said with tears in her eyes. Then she ran off to the restroom.  

Michelle got up abruptly. "Oh, you men are such ass holes!" she yelled as she walked after Janet.  

Ron just turned his back on everyone and looked out the windows  

About then, Lucille spoke up again. "I really hate to tell you all this, but I'm not feeling real good. I think I'm having labor pains."  

Granny spoke up. "I think you should lie down. Sarge, have you got any place she can lie down?"  

Sarge answered, "Yeah, we have a cot in the back. Sometimes, I sleep here when the weather's bad, and I don't know if I can make it back."  

"Molly, you help me take her back there. I'll set with her. I've been a mid-wife for years."  

Molly and Granny helped Lucille back into the back room. (George, this is Jeanne again. You can't leave them in the back or they won't survive - you'll see why later.)  

Harv thought out loud again, "Boy, I sure wish Ray would get here."  

And now the rest of the story, part two...