We’re Going To Treat This Town Like a Couple of Dogs in a Fire Hydrant Factory

Chris Carey looks down at the chlorinated water from the edge of the high dive, remembering Dennis Davenport’s pointed words: “Don’t be a wuss. This is for the kids.”

The campers point at Chris, who is wearing a polka dot jumper, a frizzy red wig, white gloves, and oversized Crocs.

Looking at the shimmering water fifteen feet below, Chris breaks out in a sweat.

A drum roll sounds.

“Helluva time to realize you’re afraid of heights and deep water,” Chris says to himself.

Dennis Davenport, the camp director and head lifeguard, raises a bullhorn, announcing, “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Camp Iroquois’ August Circus Follies! For your entertainment, Coco the Clown will do a death-defying backward flip from the high dive!”

“…First he takes my girl, now he takes my pride…,” Chris says.

Closing his eyes, Chris extends his arms, catapulting off the side of the high dive.

To the delight of the hundreds of campers and counselors, Chris lets out a realistic scream of terror before hitting the water with a belly-slamming smash.

His lungs about to burst, Chris speeds toward the side of the pool like a torpedo homing in on a cargo ship.

Rising from the water, he gasps for air, pulling himself along the wall until he reaches a ladder.

He climbs out of the pool to the sound of the camper’s appreciative laughter.

“Great dive,” Dennis says, “But I told you to do a flip. You didn’t do it.”

“Wearing size eighteen Crocs and silk pajamas cut into my ability to execute a vertical leap,” Chris replies.

“You really looked scared! I always thought you were a clown. Wait until I tell your ex I was right!”

Reno Hedison pats Chris on the back as Dennis walks away. Unlike his swarthy, skinny, curly-haired best friend, tautly muscled, blonde-haired Reno is devilishly confident.

“Don’t take what Dennis says personally, Chris. He’s an egotistical idiot.”

“He was smart enough to steal Lucy from me.”

“Forget about it, there are plenty of other girls in the world. It’s nice to see the color returning to your cheeks,” Reno comments. “You were as white as pasteurized milk before you hit the water.”

“…That dive was a piece of cake…,” Chris replies.

“We’ve been camp counselors since we were twelve, friends even longer. I can read you like a book. That scream was real. You still haven’t learned to swim, have you?”

“Was it obvious?”

“To me, yeah. You dove so close to the side of the pool that you practically landed on it. I saw the look of sheer terror when you came out of the water. That was the look of a man who expected to drown.”

“You keep that to yourself,” Chris says. “I don’t want people to know that I’ve worked here for six summers, and any kid half my age is a better swimmer than I am.”

“On one condition. I’m going to see Rose.”

“You’re going to Marshall Dillon’s house? Are you suicidal? If he catches you in his house with his daughter, your picture will wind up on a milk carton.”

Alabama native Marshall Dillon is the Chief of Police for Mount Kisco. Unlike his fictional western lawman counterpart, Dillon is an unpleasant, balding man of immense girth with ham hock-sized fists. He is renowned for taking teenagers in the backroom and tuning them up.

Dillon broke Barney Barcella’s fingers with his night stick (claiming it was an accident), stomped Fernando Figeroa with his steel-toed boots (swearing Fernando tried to get away), and hit Sammy Shore in the throat so hard that he gained a new nickname -- “Silent Sammy.” (Dillon didn’t bother explaining that one.)

But Dillon has a soft spot in his sadomasochistic heart for his daughters, eccentric twenty-year-old Ruby, and eighteen-year-old Rose, a blonde bombshell that every hot-blooded Kisco boy lusts after. Especially Reno.

“I need a wingman. I need you to keep Ruby busy,” Reno says.

Chris resists. “She’s got two years on me. Besides, I hear she’s a strange one.”

“Then you’re made for each other.”

***

“This is a dangerous idea,” Chris insists as Reno rings the Dillons’ doorbell.

“Relax. Rose said her father never comes home in the afternoon. Besides, we’ve got an escape plan.”

“Yeah, jump off his balcony and into the backyard. Some plan.”

Reno and Rose disappear into her bedroom as soon as the boys enter the house, leaving Chris sitting on the couch with Ruby.

A surreptitious glance at Ruby makes Chris think he may have made the right move by agreeing to run interference for Reno.

Ruby looks like she’s stepped out of a Rita Hayworth poster with hazel-brown eyes, flowing red hair, and a curvaceous figure.

Ruby reaches out, cupping Chris’s chin with her warm hand.

“You’ve got a nice, strong jaw, and full lips.”

“The better to kiss you with,” Chris replies, immediately feeling foolish. “Sorry, I got carried away by the compliment.”

“You’re perfect. I can really work with you.”

“I’m yours.”

“There’s something I want you to do for me,” Ruby says in a breathy whisper.

“Name it.”

Ruby pulls a pack of gum out of her tight jeans.

“Chew two sticks of gum for me.”

“Whatever turns you on.”

Chris works the gum over as Ruby slinks toward the kitchen.

She returns holding a petri dish.

“Spit.”

Chris spits the gum in the dish, saying, “Unique foreplay.”

“This is for my collection. I’m studying to be a prosthodontist.”

“I’m Catholic myself.”

“No, silly. I’m studying how to make dentures. Your teeth are perfect for creating oral prostheses.”

Chris and Ruby are distracted by the roar of an engine coming up the driveway.

“Run! It’s my father!”

Kissing Ruby on the cheek, Chris runs upstairs to Marshall Dillon’s bedroom. Opening the double windows, he launches himself off the balcony. Bracing himself, he lands in a well-tilled bed of daffodils.

Breathless, frightened, but still whole, Chris hides behind a clump of bushes.

Screaming erupts inside the house.

“I’M GONNA KILL THAT WISE-MOUTHED WEASEL!”

Bolting from her bedroom, Rose blocks her father’s path long enough to keep him from getting to Reno, who sprints upstairs, leaping from the balcony.

Reno lands short of the soft flowerbed, crashing face-first in the grass with a mind-numbing thud.

“Reno! Get up, man!” Chris calls out from behind the bushes.

Groggy, Reno shakes off the cobwebs, standing up.

He’s completely naked.

“Grab some leaves or something. We need to beat feet out of here.”

The boys race out of Dillon’s yard.

“It’s a good thing the Dillons have a lot of woods behind their house to hide in… By the way, why are you naked?” Chris asks. “Coitus interruptus?”

“I wish. Rose was sketching me. I was posed like ‘the Thinker.’”

“So, you weren’t?...”

“Nope. She kept her clothes on,” Reno laments.

“We seriously need to rethink our relationships with these girls.”

***

Reno and Chris are casually enjoying their lunch at Leonard Park when Dillon rolls up in his police cruiser.

He steps out, pulling his pants up around his massive girth.

Confronting the boys, he gives them a long, predatory look.

Dillon pokes Reno in the chest with his sausage-like finger.

“My woman ran out on me, so I raised Ruby and Rose alone. Nothin’ or no one’s gonna take them away from me. You get my message, boy? I see either of you within a hundred yards of my little girls and…”

Reno makes the mistake of finishing Dillon’s sentence.

“And what? You, Festus, and Miss Kitty will run us out of town?”

Dillon swiftly pulls out his gun, pointing it between his eyes.

“THIS!”

“You shouldn’t play with guns,” Reno counters.

“Who’s playin’?”

Muttering, cursing, Dillon holsters his gun, turning away. He stands by his car, glaring at them for effect before driving off.

“I’m not going to stand for this,” Reno says defiantly. “That fat neanderthal is getting in the way of my happiness, and I bet you’d like to get even with Dennis for stealing Lucy. Well, I’ve got a plan that’ll fix both of them. Tomorrow night is the Annual Full Moon celebration. Everybody will be at the park, including the police. That’s when we’ll strike. We’re going to treat this town like a couple of dogs in a fire hydrant factory.”

***

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Chris asks. “If it doesn’t, we’ll be getting our college education behind bars.”

“We’ve lived here all our lives. You know the routine this time of the year. Everybody will be at Leonard Park from three to eight for the Friday Full Moon barbecue and concert. Then they’ll come to the square for the ceremony celebrating Chief Kisco, only he won’t be there.”

The granite statue of Chief Kisco was built to honor the Iroquois Native American who greeted settlers when the village was established in 1850. It depicts an imposing warrior in a feathered headdress, holding a bow and staring into the future. The statue, perched at the intersection of Routes 133 and 117, is only a few hundred feet from the police station.

A flatbed truck with a crane rolls into view, moving toward Chief Kisco.

“It’s too late to turn back now,” Reno says.

Reno’s cousin, Pete the Puma, nicknamed for his inhaled, cartoonish laugh, steps out of the truck's cab.

A Toyota Corolla pulls up behind the truck. A half dozen squat, muscular men pile out.

“Okay, guys, take ‘er down,” Puma orders.

The crane is moved into position, and the statue is wrapped in chains.

“Who are those guys?” Reno asks.

“Don’t worry, cuz, they work for me.”

“Can they keep a secret?” Chris wonders.

Puma's laugh sounds like the grinding gears of an antique car. “Sure. They don’t speak English. I told them we’re taking the statue somewhere to be repaired.”

The bolts holding the statue in place are removed. The crane swings the statue onto the flatbed, where it’s quickly covered and secured.

Puma laughs, giving the boys a thumbs up as he drives off.

“Part one of our revenge is complete,” Reno says.

***

Reno parks his car in the woods behind the pool, away from suspicious eyes.

The pair cautiously approach the pool’s entrance.

Reno suddenly stops, holding Chris back.

“What?”

“I heard something,” Reno responds, slowly backing up.

A deer jumps out from the bushes, rushing past them as Reno and Chris dive to the ground.

“Son of a $#@!” Chris says. “Someone ought to turn you into venison steaks, Bambi!”

Bambi tilts his head at Chris, sticking out his tongue.

“I think we should eliminate our witness,” Chris says, brushing the dirt off his clothes.

“He’s harmless, just curious,” Reno replies, sticking his key in the door.

Chris speculates, “After this caper, I’ll bet Dennis collects all the counselor’s keys.”

They head to the pool’s boiler room. The room is a mass of switches, heaters, and other intimidating equipment.

“So, which one empties the water?” Chris asks.

“I’m not sure… There are so many switches…”

“Oh well, when in doubt flip ‘em all,” Chris responds.

***

Reno and Chris celebrate the success of their clandestine operation with a high five.

“I wish I could see Dennis’s face tomorrow when he sees the pool is empty,” Chris chuckles.

“You can. Let’s stop here in the morning. It’ll be better than watching Saturday morning cartoons.”

A pair of headlights illuminates the road.

“Somebody’s coming!” Chris exclaims.

The boys scramble for cover behind a clump of bushes beside the pool.

A police car comes into view.

“With my luck, it’s Dillon,” Reno whispers.

He groans as Marshall Dillon steps out of the car.

“Did you close the door?” Chris asks.

“I thought you closed it.”

Dillon shines his flashlight on the pool’s entrance. He pauses in front of the open door, drawing his gun.

Bambi bounds in front of him.

Startled, Dillon tries to retreat, tripping over his feet and falling onto his back.

“Dagnabbit! Stupid deer! Somebody oughtta make jerky outta you!”

“See, it’s not just me who thinks that critter is a menace,” Chris whispers.

Grumbling, Dillon does a quick check of the lobby. Slamming the door behind him, he heads for his car.

Bambi dances up to the patrol car, standing in front of it.

“Get outta the way, you cotton-tailed vermin!”

Bambi stands his ground.

Dillon leans on the car’s horn.

Bambi still refuses to move.

Dillon lets out a frustrated scream, backing the car up. Turning it around, he speeds away.

“I’ve changed my mind about Bambi. I’m going to make a donation to the Help the Deer Organization,” Chris says.

“I don’t think there is one,” Reno replies.

“Then I’m going to start one.”

***

The following morning, Dillon stomps into Florentine’s Deli as Reno and Chris wait for their bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches.

“COFFEE! BLACK! LARGE!” Dillon bellows at Florentine.

“Is that to go?” Florentine asks meekly.

“You’re dang tootin’! This town’s been turned into a disaster area overnight. A bunch of terrorists stole Chief Kisco and emptied the pool. It’s the biggest crime wave in this town in forty years!”

Dillon’s wild-eyed stare bears down on Reno and Chris.

“When I find the hooligans who done this, I’m gonna hang ‘em by their thumbs in the village square!”

Dillon swipes his coffee out of Florentine’s hand.

“Its… It’s on the house, Marshall…”

“That’s Chief, you twitchin’ toad-faced caffeine jockey!”

Dillon takes a healthy gulp, shrieking.

“Hot, isn’t it?” Reno asks.

“Stay outta my way, you two! And stay away from my girls!”

***

Chris laughs between bites of his sandwich as Reno’s car cruises into Leonard Park.

Reno stops the car near the softball field.

The water fountain is shooting a geyser twenty feet in the air.

“Oh, oh. That wasn’t supposed to happen,” Reno comments.

The water fountain near the baseball field is spewing water even higher.

Chris points at a third plume of water sprouting from the playground’s sprinkler system.

“I think we might have flipped too many switches.”

***

The boys creep up the steps to the pool.

Chris doubles over, stifling his laughter at the sight of Dennis filling the Olympic-sized pool with a hose.

Covering his broad smile with his hand, Reno says, “We heard what happened, Dennis. Tough luck.”

“If I get hold of the kids who did this, I’ll kill them. They turned off all the switches that run the water and electricity. Half the generators burned out, and all the water backed up. It’s gonna take six hours to fill this thing up with a hose!”

“It’s a good thing the pool is insured for incidents like this,” Chris replies.

Dennis shudders. “Do me a favor, guys. Promise me you'll let me know if you hear anything about who did this.”

“You can count on us,” Chris answers.

The boys retreat down the stairs.

“So, what do we do now?” Chris asks.

“Go to college,” Reno replies.

***

A month after perpetrating Mount Kisco’s biggest crime, Reno and Chris head off to college. Reno goes to school at Northwestern University in Illinois, while Chris attends Emerson College in Massachusetts. Although they’re separated by a thousand miles, the boys stay in touch.

Just before the winter holiday in December, Chris gets a call from a blissfully happy Reno.

“Have you been keeping up with the news at home?” Reno asks.

“Bits and pieces from Mom and Dad. What’s up?”

“The Mayor announced today that Dennis has been arrested for embezzlement. Instead of paying the insurance for the pool, he was pocketing it for himself. Doesn’t that make you happy?”

“Yeah! An early Christmas present,” Chris replies.

“I’ve got some more news that’ll make us both happy. They found Chief Kisco…”

“That’s bad news. I guess we’re fugitives now.”

“Nope. They found him right where we left him in the woods behind Marshall Dillon’s house. He was charged with the theft of a major piece of artwork. As part of his plea, he’s being fired and sent back to Alabama.”

“But he’ll take Ruby and Rose with him,” Chris says sadly.

“Nope. Their mother is back in the picture. They’ll be staying in Mount Kisco. I spoke with them today. They can’t wait for us to come home. I have a weird message from Ruby for you… She says bring plenty of gum.”