Gertie, Earl & Endicott 3

Now, in case I hadn’t mentioned, St. Henry’s was a small, small town. ‘Twas quiet too. Ain’t nobody came to St. Henry’s since the volcano went dormant. In fact, not too many folks even knew where St. Henry’s was. Fact is, the town mayor paid Earl’s daddy fifty bucks extra to sweep the cobwebs and trim the brush off the welcome sign once a month. St. Henry’s is a small, quiet town. Can’t walk down the street without someone noticing. Can’t drop a gum wrapper into the gutter without someone’s mamma hollering at you to pick it up. Can’t much have a secret meeting in the basement of the library without Mr. White, the librarian, knowing exactly where it was.
“Hey Earl. If you’re looking for the boys, they’re down by Ka32467.23,” he said from behind the circulation desk when Earl walked in.
Mr. White was a handsome, dark-skinned man, who liked reading, tidying up, polishing his glasses and cooking out. In fact, he met Gertie’s mother one fall evening when he was out back of his house deep-frying his Thanksgiving turkey and the flames got a bit higher than regulation. Truth was, there was nothing wrong with his fryer or his methods. Jenny White was just looking for an excuse to talk to the handsome, shy man. But that’s a whole other story.
Earl mumbled hello and slid quickly down the stairwell two flights. He found the guys at a long wooden table at the far back. Jimmy Jackson, the leader of the secret society clicked on the green-shaded reading lamp and tilted so its light lit his dark face from below. He was dressed entirely in green, and even had a green tube sock fitted out over his leg cast. He was the son of the town grocer, one of the rich kids. He broke his leg in a dirt bike accident.
On his right sat Rembrandt Fisk, a tow-headed kid with thick Harry Potter glasses and cherubic dimples. Mamas loved Remi because he was so darned cute, like an abandoned puppy. Redheaded Connie Jones sat next to him, with his Braves cap flipped backward, chewing on a pen. Lastly, Todd Stevens sat with his head bent over a spiral notebook, drawing a cartoon version of a volcano erupting and women and children dying in flames. Todd was really cool, in Earl’s opinion, though he didn’t talk much. Earl tossed his backpack on the table and sat down next to him.
“Hey y’all,” he announced to the group.
“Hey, Earl,” Remi said and smiled a smile that would sell a crate of toothpaste.
“Hey,” said Jimmy, and nodded once.
“Greetings,” said Todd as he shaded some billowing smoke.
“Uh, ex-squeeze me, flounder. What do you think you’re doing?” Connie asked.
“I’m joining your group,” Earl answered. He never much liked Conrad Jones.
“We don’t let flounders into secret meetings. Get lost.”
“Get bent,” Earl replied.
Todd, sitting next to him, snickered quietly but never looked up from his drawing. He was working on an image of a skinny man drowning in a pool of lava.
“Jimmy, my brothah, tell him,” Connie appealed.
Jimmy rolled his eyes and flipped the lampshade back down toward the table.
“I asked him to come,” he said.
“Ah man, what for?”
“Because I felt like it.”
“Man, his dad picks up my dad’s used toilet paper!”
“He does not!” Earl shouted.
“Well, technically that’s true, you know. Your dad is the garbage man,” Remi said cheerfully. He looked so darned cute. Earl wanted to punch him.
“Shut up!” he said, instead.
Jimmy picked up a red plastic gavel that he kept for just this purpose. He banged it on the table.
“Hold up. Hold up. Are we gonna talk about The Project or ain’t we?”
“What project?” Earl asked.
“Not ‘what project’, The Project.”
“Come on Jimmy! Don’t tell him nothing. He’ll tell his girlfriend,” Connie sneered.
“He means, Gertie,” Remi piped in.
“She’s not my girlfriend!” Earl shouted. There was a shuffling noise from behind the closest bookshelf, but no one except Todd noticed. He put down his pen and looked behind him.
“You know this is a guy’s club?” Jimmy asked.
“Yeah, I know.”
“You can’t tell anyone, least of all a girl.”
“I won’t.”
“Not even Grodie Gertie your goober girlfriend?” Conrad asked.
“Shut up, Connie,” Earl said, rising out of his seat.
“Ooo! He doesn’t like it when we talk about his widdle fwend dat way does he?”
“She’s not my friend! I don’t even like her!” Conrad shouted.
“Dude,” Todd murmered.
Earl swung around. “What!”
Todd held up his hands.
“Never mind, man. Chill.”
Earl blushed and sat back down.
Jimmy crossed his arms.
“That was right entertaining and all. But can we please get down to business?” He looked around. When no one answered, he continued.
“Okay, here’s the deal-yo. Connie has a line on a new tunnel up round back toward Old Man Carson’s place.”
“How?” Earl asked.
“Flounders should be seen and not heard, Guh-Earl,” Connie replied, tilting back in his chair and propping his feet up on the long table.
“I’m just asking how Connie knows this seeing as how Old Man Carson shoots tresspassers and all.”
“Got it from his brother, Deacon.”
“How’d Deacon know?” Todd asked.
“He was up that way on business, trying to trap one of Carson’s dogs what had gone rabid. Said it disappeared down a tunnel on the ridge above Old Man Carson’s cabin before they could get at it,” Connie said. Deacon Jones worked for Animal Control. Got to wear a snazzy uniform and everything. Said it was better than college because chicks love a man in uniform. Conrad and the boys couldn’t understand what he’d want with girls, but did admit that he got to drive a pretty cool truck.
“We mean to explore it,” Jimmy said.
“What?” Earl asked, slightly alarmed.
“But Jimmy, ain’t it the flounder’s job?” Remi asked.
“What?” Earl asked, even more alarmed.
Jimmy turned to him and grinned. All the boys were smiling.
“Well, I was getting to it. Everyone knows the St. Henry’s Apes chart the volcano tunnels. And how do you join the Apes?”
“But, I thought...”
Connie grinned and pulled his feet off the table.
“You thought what, Flounder-Man? That you had to explore an already charted tunnel? Man, you are as stupid as you look.”
“Shut up, Gonad - I mean Conrad,” Earl growled.
“You aren’t scared, are you?”
“No.”
“Because you look a little scared.”
“It’s true, you know. You’re face has gone green.”
“Ah lay off him,” Todd said. “You don’t have to go up there alone. We’ll be coming along, at least until Old Man Carson’s property.”
“We want to make sure we see you going in,” Connie said.
“Think of it as a bon voyage party,” Jimmy said, grinning.
“Wha- when?” Earl stammered.
“We’ll meet here bright and early. Six AM. Pack a lunch.”