The 'Cousins'

Chapter 97(Echo1) : Enter Methane

CHAPTER NINETY-SEVEN (ECHO) Pt1.

Finishing off at Ma Tooley's.

"Hey somebody's long past his bedtime!"

Ma cackled as she made her crack and placed fresh mugs of coffee around the table, bringing laughter from Walt and Greg and acute embarrassment to Wayne. In the relaxed atmosphere of the diner Wayne had openly yawned. He wiped his face on his handkerchief and muttered.

"Sorry about that, it's been a long day."

Wayne's flushed self-consciousness elicited fresh quips from the table.

"Don't breed 'em to last the pace south o' the Mason–Dixon line these days."

"Did you bring your Teddy Bear Wayne?"

"Aw shucks, you men leave him alone. Come on Mr. Fisher we is wantin' to hear the rest o' this bedtime story you is tellin' us."

She followed her one-liner with another raucous belly laugh setting the folds of flesh on her ample body quivering and her face springing fresh perspiration that she wiped away with a large chequered cloth. "Lawdy, Lawdy, I is so sorry Mr. Fisher, but I jist could not resist?."

Wayne joined in with the group's light-hearted mirth; they were all together on the same page again and he took advantage of the moment to rap his knuckles on the table to encourage them to come to order.

"Ma, gentlemen. I've given you a pretty heavy dose of facts and figures so far and regret to tell you there's a few more to come. They're mostly for Greg's benefit when he comes to read that dossier tonight, but I hope you will find them interesting."

"Go ahead Wayne."

"It's mighty interestin' so far an' I sure would like to hear the rest, if it's no bother Mr. Fisher."

"Me too, jist as long as we're done afore I open at 6.00 in the mornin'."

Wayne threw up his hands. "It won't take me that long. There are two major differences in the products Fishers are bringing to market I have to get across to you; along with a few explanations, ...Before I start in on that do you have any questions on what I've said so far?"

Greg checked his notes and shook his head.

"Ah have one?" Ma raised her hand like she was in school and Wayne raised his eyebrows to invite her question.

"Ah'm wantin' to know if that poor cow we've left stannin' alone in that there cowshed we wuz in has herself a name?"

Her question raised another round of playful laughter. Wayne smiled appreciatively at Ma with outstretched arms. "To my best knowledge and belief Ma that cow has no name."

"Then she will be a Daisybelle."

"Hold on Ma." Walt wagged a warning finger. "Daisybelle's a girl's name and that cowshed we wuz in was a feedlot. That cow'll be a steer fer sure an' plumb won't sleep nights with a name like Daisybelle."

More laughter followed and Greg put down his notebook and uncrossed his legs to join in the merriment with a suggestion. "How about Boris?"

"Boris is good."

"Fer sure no one ain't gonna get mixed up enough to try milching him with a name like Boris."

Wayne was about to bring them to order when Greg caught his eye and indicated to let them have their fun as a way of maintaining their keen interest in what he was telling them. Once the next round of laughter subsided Wayne picked up his dissertation. "That's settled then," he announced, "Boris it is." Wayne slapped his side in the manner of an auctioneer knocking down a lot. "Now, are there any more questions before I move on?"