"You want to know where the girl is?"

"I suppose so," Dan said, although he wasn't sure that he really wanted to know. Again, it was a matter of being involved. On the other hand, he was already involved more than he had intended. The money he'd given Edith Mussleman didn't matter. It was a matter of personal involvement. He wasn't sure that he could handle the emotion that always surrounded a personal involvement.

"In my closet," Earle said. "I saw her sneak in there just about when the sheriff arrived and was wondering what to do about it. Guess she's planning to hop a bus."

Dan shook his head. "The sheriff isn't going to like you very much."

Earle laughed.

"I'll tell him you did it," Earle said.

"Well, I guess we'd better go get her out of there before she suffocates or something."

"What are you going to do about her?"

"Nothing," Dan said. "But she can't hide in there. The sheriff might accuse you of kidnapping. If he kidnaps her, he'd overlook it. If you kidnap her, he'll probably throw you in jail. Worse, he might throw me in jail. And I don't think I'd enjoy that cot you mentioned very much."

Earle followed him inside the bus station. Dan knocked on the closet door.

"Dorothy Leann," Dan said, "it's Dan Jones. I want to talk with you."

Cautiously, the door opened a crack.

"Go away," she said.

"Next bus north is hours away," Dan said.

"Tomorrow morning," Earle said immediately.

"You can't stay in there all night so you might as well come out now and have a milkshake with me."

"My milkshakes are pretty good," said Earle.

"What kind do you have?" Dan asked.

"Strawberry is my best. And I bought some strawberries this morning. Frozen. But good. I can fix you a milkshake that the kings and queens of England would die for."

"Go fix us up a couple of them, would you please?"

"They come in threes," he said. "One for me, of course."

"Of course. Good idea," Dan said. "Anyway Dorothy Leann, you might as well come out of hiding. If you see the sheriff coming, you can flee right back here to your hideyhole if you wish and I won't say a thing about where you're at. But come out at least for a while and let's talk."

She opened the door further. She was sitting on the floor of the closet, a cardboard box tied with a couple of strings in her lap. Obviously, she didn't even have a suitcase, but when you've never been anywhere, a suitcase is an unnecessary possession, Dan suppose.

He picked up the cardboard box and tucked it under his left arm and offered a hand to help her up.

She was reluctant about it, but she took his hand and scrambled to her feet.

"I was already getting stiff," she said.

"Closets will do that to you," Dan told her. He carried her cardboard box and placed it on the counter and motioned for her to take one of the stools and then sat down on the next one.

"So, you were running away," he said. It was more of a comment than a question.

"I was merely taking your advice," she said.

"Looks that way," he said. "But I forgot to add something earlier this morning that's fairly important in a situation like this. You can run away from a place, but it's more difficult to run away from people. Your mother, for example. Some advice, huh?"

"I was going to phone her from Dallas," she said.

"Well, she left here a few minutes ago en route home to get you and the idea was that both of you could run away together. So my good idea of the morning has been superceded by a better idea of the afternoon."

"Where are we going, mother and I?"

Earle sat a milkshake in a tall fluted glass in front of each of them and placed a soda straw in each.

"I suggested several places," Dan said. "Seattle. Charleston, South Carolina. Shreveport, Louisiana. Anywhere. There's a whole bunch of world out there just waiting for the adventurous soul who passes by."

"I'm not sure that I would like Shreveport," she said. She sipped her milkshake.

"Hey, a few minutes ago you were willing to take any place not called Brady. Now you're getting particular?"

"It’s my milkshake," Earle said. "These things have that kind of effect on you."

Dan took a sip of his milkshake.

"These things are dangerous," Dan said. He toasted Earle with his glass.

Just then, Jo Ellen Gill walked in.

"I came down to see if you were still here," she said.

"Leaving soon," Dan said.

She took one glance at his milkshake and ordered one for herself.

"Gladly, dear lady," said Earle.

"Me, too," said Rudy Ramierez as he entered the front door.

He was not wearing the hat, Dan noticed.

"You don't play fair," Dan said. He turned to Earle. "Put some sour cream in his milkshake."

"Nope," Rudy said and grinned. He sat down on a stool by Jo Ellen. "I hunted high and low for that hat for more than a dozen years."

"What hat?" asked Spider Wiggins as he walked in the door.

"A miracle happened today," said Rudy without smiling. "My hat, lost many years ago, found it's way back home."

"You still live back on the hill behind where the old power plant used to be?" asked Spider.

"No. I moved many years ago," Rudy said. "Very difficult to tell you exactly where and I don't know how to describe the directions you'd need to get there either."

"What did the hat look like?" asked Spider.

"Hard to say," said Rudy, again without a smile.

"Weren't you wearing a hat this morning?" Earle asked me.

"Me? I don't know anything about a hat," Dan said. "You'll never catch me wearing something ugly like that. Probably purchased at Sears."

"No, likely a gift from a friend," said Rudy.

"Cheap friend," Dan said.

"Yes. He used to be."

"What an odd bunch of people," Earle said. "I've got a good mind to move back to Kerrville."

"Convention of lovable misfits," Dan remarked, toasting Spider with his milkshake.

"Certainly an unconventional convention at that," said Earle.

"What's all this fuss about a hat?" asked Jo Ellen.

"Years ago, while fishing on the Brady Creek," said Rudy, "a friend of mine lost his hat while swimming. He couldn't find it. Later, when I showed up wearing this hat, which was new in those days, he tried to claim it was his hat. Can you imagine the audacity of someone doing something like that."

"It was my hat in the beginning," said Spider. "I remember stealing it from Stein's across the square."

"I came by that hat fair and square," Dan said. "A whole two dollars, in effect."

"I found it in a trash can," said Rudy. He pulled the hat out of a pocket and placed it on his head with both hands as if it were a crown.

"I have a hunch that none of you really remember where that hat came from," said Earle.

"What I came back down here for," said Spider, "was to thank you for talking with Justice Dawkins.

"Heck of a conversation," Dan said. "Turns out a certain hat thief is also good at stealing ideas."

"My ideas," Spider insisted. "But we've reached a deal on writing a story treatment for you. We're going to do it together. I had to ask for help because I can't type. He types very well, he said. He promised to stay sober. A miracle."

"Wasn't me," Dan said. "It was your god that did it."

A Volkswagen Beetle pulled up outside at the curb. They all turned to watch as Edith Mussleman climbed out of the car, looked up and down the street as if searching for someone, then come into the bus station.

"Do you know everyone here?" Dan asked her. Then, to make sure, introduced her to Earle and Rudy.

"Thank god I found you!" she said to her daughter. "If we leave now, I think we can dodge the sheriff."

"Calm down," Dan said. "What you need is a strawberry milkshake. Earle here makes a fine one. One of the best I've ever had. Worth the entire trip to Brady, in my opinion."

"I'm not sure that I can sit still very long," Edith said. "You talk about being ancy!"

"They are pretty good, Mom," Dorothy Leann told her mother.

"You packed?" Dan asked.

"It's amazing how much stuff you can put in a Volkswagen Beetle," she said. "Clothes, dishes, frying pan, a coffee pot, baby pictures. Quilts, pillows."

"I'm already packed," said Dorothy Leann. "My teddy bear is in the cardboard box."

"The proverbial teddy bear," said Rudy.

"If you can have a proverbial hat, I can have a proverbial teddy bear," Dorothy Leann insisted.

"Yes, she can," said Spider.

"I wonder where the proverbial sheriff is?" Mr. Earle asked.

"I told him that I probably saw Dorothy Leann hitchhiking north of town," said Jo Ellen.

"You didn't!"

"Of course I didn't actually see her hitchhiking north of town," said Jo Ellen, "but it seemed like a pretty good thing to say at the time."

"It was the proverbially correct lie," Dan told Jo Ellen.

"Sometimes," she said, "a person needs to lie in order to fix the truth."

"A lie is sometimes proverbially appropriate," Dan said. "But I'm afraid that the sheriff will show up here eventually. Sheriff's always show up."

"That's what we're counting on," Rudy said.

Suddenly, Dan grew suspicious.

"Counting on?"

"The fight, of course," said Spider.

Dan tried to glare at Jo Ellen, but he wasn't very good at that sort of thing.

"The proverbial fight," she said.

"But he's your grandson-in-law!"

"A fight's a fight," she insisted. "Relative or not. I've been needing a good fight. Maybe he needs one, too."

"So far as I can tell," Dan said, "that's probably because you're not the one doing the fighting. Of course, I'm perfect willing to let you take my place if you insist."

"No, thanks," she said.

"Don't hurt him very much," Rudy said and began laughing.

"Hurt him?" said Spider. "Didn't you know that sucker has a black belt? Or perhaps it's that belt you get when you can whip a guy who wears a black belt."

"I get the picture," Dan said. "And I had the mistaken impression just recently that all of you had dropped by to wish me well on my continuing journey."

"I can't imagine where you got a foolish notion like that, young fellow," said Jo Ellen.

"You'd make a very excellent fight promoter," Dan told Jo Ellen.

"Thanks," she said.

He toasted all of them with his milkshake lifted high.

"But I see a vague glimmer of a way out of this particular predicament," he said.

Jo Ellen seemed disappointed. "You mean you aren't going to fight him?"

"I don't want to hurt him," Dan said.

"Where have I heard that before?" Rudy said.

Rudy, like the others, were having a great time.

"If you want to fight him, you go right ahead," Dan said. "I'll watch."

"No, thanks," said Rudy.

"As far as I can tell," Dan said, "there's probably only one way out of this situation. Mayor, can you whip up a marriage license as good as you do a milkshake?"

"Sure," said Earle. "I do it all the time."

"Next question. Miss Edith Mussleman, you said earlier in the day that if you could have found a husband, you'd have married him. I realize this is rather sudden, but would you do me the honor of becoming my wife? I need, as you said earlier today, a firm commitment. And probably real quick."

(continued next week)

KBOX album cover released by Roulette Records. KBOX jocks on top of the Southland Life Building in 1965. Back row: Terry Bowen (T-Bird), Ronnie Rice, Frank Jolley; front row: Dan (McCurdy) Patrick, Bill Ward, Bill Holley. Ward went on to become head of Golden West for Gene Autry. Frank Jolley is a producer with Liberty Pictures. (Photo courtesy of Frank Jolley)

Sometimes, bed is more enemy than friend these days. So, I floundered amidst sheet, electric blanket, and quilt and after a while, stumbled out and took the myriad pills various doctors have ordained that I will take the rest of my life. With Diet Pepsi. At least a couple of the pills are deadly little things.

A small price to pay, I suppose, for the chance to write another novel. To experience another day, watch another basketball game.

Barbara is down in San Diego with our son Darryl, who is ill. Our son John came up from Los Angeles to keep me and Barbara’s dog company. One of the reasons I had to get up this morning is that the dog jumped into my bed and licked me in the face. Gah! What an ignoble alarm clock!

Good news. Years and years ago, Dr. Tom Durfey, head of the communications department at Oral Roberts University, drove from Albany, NY, where he and family where visiting relatives and left a VCR at my door (I was teaching class at the time). The VCR features "Birth of Broadcasting, Radio and Television." A couple of months ago, I decided to see if Wal-Mart could transfer it to DVD. And behold! A few days ago, the DVD arrived. With a note that the VCR had deteriorated over time. Yeah, more than two dozen years!

But I checked yesterday and although the color has waned in places, the guts are still there. So, I used John’s laptop with a super drive to copy the DVD. George Wilson and Jay Blackburn will receive copies as thanks for the help they’ve given me with my novel "I Love Radio." I’m also going to send a copy of the DVD to Oral Roberts University (an ORU professor, Dr. Even Culp wasn’t quite sure that the campus library still had a copy of the VCR and he’d helped Dr. Durfey produce the tape). None of you, more than likely, ever heard of Dr. Tom Durfey…even when he was a disc jockey around Albany, NY, under the name of Tommy Carl. He was a big fan of Joey Reynolds, then in Buffalo, and one of his most-fond memories was the night that Joey let him sit in on his show and participate. "Tommy" went on to buy his own station, get his Ph.D., become a college professor. He loved radio with the same passion as you and me. I helped him set up a low-powered FM on top of a grain elevator in Enid, OK, that played religious tapes. Dr. Durfey would drive from Tulsa, where he was teaching, to Enid to change the tapes every week or so. I don’t think he was making money out of the station, but he was doing it. I mean, just about every bone in his body was a radio bone!

I wish I had permission to mass produce this DVD. Dr. Durfey did a lot of work here. Be a pity to just let it continue to gather dust in a college library. It features an interview with the first disc jockey, the first engineer, the first weatherman, etc. Great stuff. Very valuable DVD. Would be great as a teaching tool. In addition, it’s highly fascinating to radio buffs like me who can still remember the first radio station I ever entered. KNEL, Brady, TX. Then located upstairs on the east side of the town square. Not a whole bunch of elegance there.

Most elegant radio station I was ever in? WSB, Atlanta. Fanciest radio station? KMET and KLAC in Los Angeles designed by the late Bill Ward and the late L. David Moorhead, general managers, but which featured rare posters from the John Kluge collection. One Zeppelin poster was worth a fortune or two. Only three copies existed. One was in the Museum of Modern Art in New York City. Wonder if Mary Turner, once a KMET jock, remembers the poster. Husband like she has now, she probably bought it.

Funniest radio station was this one in Carlsbad, NM, in a furniture store. The mike sat on a dining room table. I sat on a dining room chair. Both items had price tags dangling from them.

Missing station: I can’t find anyone who remembers where KOWH was located in Omaha.

MONEY MATTERS

Rob Moorhead just sent me a hundred billion dollars Bank note. Real. Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe. Barbara and I are trying to figure out how to spend it.

MAGAZINE MATTERS

So, my son John, esq., prowls around swap meets on Sundays in the Los Angeles area and one of the things he fetched over this past week was a copy of the Record Collector News, a magazine handed out free at swap meets in California and, it says, Las Vegas. It’s on newsprint. Jim Kaplan is the publisher. www.recordcollectornews.com. Printed bi-monthly. Ads are from record stores and record dealers. TKO Records also has vintage turntables for sale. Another ad proclaims: "No CDs or tapes." Some articles are really for the oblique fan. One article is about a pirate radio station…KRLY, Fillmore, CA. Ah, ah, ah! Another article in the Sept./Oct. 2008 issue is about Bo Diddley.

e-mail  claude@claudehallonline.com