Once Around the Track by Sharyn McCrumb Page B

trust Badger with your life and not think twice about it.
    Conley smiled. “You know we had another idea that you might get a kick out of, Badger. In a couple of weeks we’re going to be doing a pharmaceutical trade show to kick off Vagenya—you know, show the world our new wonder drug. And we were thinking it would be just a great attention-getter to have you there.”
    Badger’s genial smile began to tighten at the corners, and he stood very still.
    “We haven’t really thought it all out yet,” Conley went on. “There are half a dozen possibilities, I think. Of course, we could have you sign photos. I know you’re used to that, but we were thinking—and, you know, Badger, this is just off the top of my head here, but I was thinking…good-looking stud like you, boy…What about a kissing booth? Wouldn’t that be a hoot?” He winked and leered.
    Badger’s expressionless stare did not waver. He did not move a muscle.
    Happily unaware of the effect of his little suggestions, Conley went barreling on. “And we’d have a slogan, something like…oh… If You Haven’t Got Badger, Try Vagenya.” He turned to Suzie, as if noticing her for the first time. “What do you think?”
    Suzie was spared from telling him what she thought, because at that moment, Christine Berenson, who had not been privy to the discussion, glided in, wineglass in hand. She took Badger by the arm and led him away toward another clump of guests. She waited motionless beside him until the chattering died down, and then, still clutching his arm, she announced to the group, “You know, Badger is not only a great driver, he’s also something of a humanitarian. When Suzie here visited him in his hometown, he had just rescued a large injured turtle from the local lake. A motor boat had cut its shell, and he actually saved its life.”
    Her listeners responded with a suitable assortment of oohs and aahs and a few seconds of muffled applause. One large woman in flowered silk who was either an animal lover or an opportunist hugged Badger again, professing her admiration for his noble efforts.
    Badger bore all this attention with a modest smile, but he wasn’t forthcoming with any information about the rescue, so that finally Christine was forced to ask, “And how is the turtle?”
    Solemnly, Badger Jenkins said, “Why, ma’am, he was delicious.”

     
    Suzie Terrell’s smile had turned into a rictus by the time she had managed to steer Badger across the threshold of the reception room and out into the hall. He was still trying to wave as she slammed the door behind them.
    “Wal,” he said, “I don’t know about that Vagenya guy…”
    “Shut up!” she hissed.
    “No, I’m serious,” said Badger. “I try to be as accommodating as I can to the team sponsors, but I gotta tell you, that kissing booth idea of his just made my skin crawl. There ain’t no way I’m doing that. You tell them, all right? It’s not in my contract, stuff like that. Not even close.”
    Suzie waved away his concerns about the Vagenya schemes. “You ate that turtle! You ate that poor defenseless, endangered— What is wrong with you?”
    He shrugged and began to walk off down the corridor, but she ran after him and grabbed him by the elbow. “You barbarian!” she hissed. “How could you?”
    Badger shrugged and tried to pull away, but she tightened her grip on his arm, and when he saw tears spring into her eyes, he sighed and patted her shoulder. “Okay,” he sighed. “I didn’t eat the turtle. He’s fine. Jesse down to the body shop is keeping him right now, and my buddy Paul is building him a little pen at my lake house with a little spring-fed pool for him to swim in. If the vet ever says he’s well enough to go back in the lake, we’ll turn him loose next time I get down there, and if he doesn’t ever get fit for the wild, I reckon I’ll just keep him around.”
    Suzie stared. “Then why did you tell them that you’d eaten him. Did you want