Jeez Louise it’s hot.  I mean, not just the run-of-the-mill Fort Stockton hot.  It is polar-ice-caps-melting hot.  Call it whatever you want to, depending on whatever side of the political line dividing America you fall on, but it is just too damn hot.  

The soil, baking in the blast furnace of the summer sun without relief, is now so doggone hot that gophers are routinely spontaneously combusting just under the surface over at the Fort Stockton Country Club. Golfers routinely see the vermin erupt in red clouds of bone and fluids that then almost immediately dry and bake on fairways and greens making it look like the whole course is covered in scabs the size of cow-pies, and almost as foul smelling.  More than once a golfer has bent down to replace a divot and been sprayed by an exploding gopher and had the stuffing nearly scared right out of him.

All that to say The Grounds for Divorce is at near capacity as folks come in out of the heat and keep their fingers crossed for the Texas energy grid.  Yesterday it was so hot that not even Bring a Trailer listings could shift the discussion from the rising mercury.  Lucinda has taken to just keeping the Bunn-O-Matic full of Folgers out on the sidewalk in front of the cafe, where it’s easier to get to and stays piping hot.  The first time Gullwing lifts his leg on it that will probably come to a screeching halt, but it works for now.

Must have been about 10:00 or so when Tex Hall, Rex Hall’s twin brother pulled up, grinnin’ like a possum eating a sweet ‘tater.  Despite being twins, the brothers aren’t particularly close, partially due to heteropaternal superfecundation, a detail their mother didn’t reveal until they were freshman over at Jim Bowie High School, “Home of the Fighting’ Knives”.  Tex kept asking how come Rex was handsome and good at sports and he wasn’t and she finally had to spill the beans at an awkward family dinner at the K-Bob’s after church one Sunday.

Anyway, Tex pulled up in a 1959 Ford Galaxie Club Sedan and he couldn’t wait to show it off.  Busting through the front door, he yelled, “Look what I just bought!”  We all looked outside and the sun was glistening off the chrome of that car like it was brand new on the showroom floor instead of a year from being eligible for Medicare.

“I’ll be twisted,” Sister Thelma said.  “Where did you get such a distinctive automobile?”

“Manny over at Manny’s Motor Mart!” Tex replied.  “He got it a while back and I’ve had my eye on it.”

We all did what guys do, we wandered out to the parking lot, gave it a walk around, made a few mental notes to ask when we got back inside and gushed over it just about as much as we deemed appropriate.  Normally someone would have asked him to pop the hood for a better look at that Thunderbird 332 cubic inch motor, but it was just too hot to be outside any longer.

“That’s a pretty color,” Lucinda commented as she grabbed the Folgers off the sidewal on her way back in.  “What do they call that?”

“The color is Geranium.  First year for the Galaxie model.  Top of the Ford line in ’59,” Tex went on to explain.  “But that’s not the most incredible thing about this coupe.”

We all waited for the rest of the story, Tex having taken the Paul Harvey approach to the conversation.  Meanwhile, I was eying a piece of the fresh apple pie Delgato had just put out in the glass case next to the register.  The GFD is known almost as much for their homemade pies as the constant car talk that goes on around the Big Center Table inside.

“That is the car Jack Ruby drove to downtown Dallas and parked outside the Dallas County jail when he walked down into the basement, pulled a gun, and shot Lee Harvey Oswald on live TV!” Tex proclaimed. “I own a piece of automotive history, and American history, all in one Ford Club Sedan!”

Needless to say, we were all taken aback.  I mean none of us even knew Tex could even spell ‘history’, much have an interest in it.

“First thing I did was check the glove compartment to see if the weapon was still in there,” he said.  “Would have made the car even more valuable.  But of course, it wasn’t.”

“Well, it has been a long time,” Pastor Peterson said.  “Seems like I remember the weapon being tied up in court battles for quite a while.”

“Probably,” Tex said.  “I was just lucky to get the Ford.  Luckily Manny still had a lot of the details.  Seems Ruby’s brother got the car when they put Jack in the big house.  Then he sold it to a collector in Las Vegas who kept it in storage for twenty years or better.”

We were all following along, but the longer the story went on, the more questions arose.

“Manny said it was even brought back to Texas for use in the JFK movie back in the 90s.  He said Oliver Stone flew into Vegas and picked it up himself.  Drove it all the way to Dallas.  Gonna have to see if I can spot it next time I watch my pirated VCR copy of the movie,” Tex went on.  “The original Owner’s Manual is in the glove compartment.  Oliver Stone signed it on the page next to the “jacking instructions’ for changing the spare tire. Kind of ironic, huh?”

Rusty from the Rusty Hammer Hardware Store was starting to get that look in his eye, like he was about to call BS on the whole thing.  Sister Thelma kicked him under the table.

“There’s even a receipt from a Whataburger in Oak Cliff where Oliver Stone and Kevin Costner took the Galaxie for a drive during a break in filming,” Tex said.  “Kevin signed the back of the receipt and stuck it in the Owner’s Manual.  He had a Combo #2, Double Meat / Double Cheese”

“How’s that Cruise-O-Matic?” Rusty asked.  “Smooth as butter?”

“Just like the day it rolled off the line at the plant in the Twin Cities,” Tex said.  “Like going back in time, I tell ya.”  Nobody could remember seeing him so happy.  He’d always kind of lived in Rusty’s shadow.  Lucinda gave him a piece of pie to celebrate, just like it was his birthday.  We all patted him on the back and told him we looked forward to getting a ride in the Galaxie, once the weather cooled off.  “Maybe November!” Tex said.  “Don’t make plans on the 22nd.”  We all stood up, shook his hand, and gave Tex a pat on the back.  And with that, he was out the door and on to wherever the next stop was he could show off his newly acquired Galaxie.

We’d barely sat back down when Manny walked in.  It was a little uncomfortable.  Before he could even sit down and get a cup of Folgers, Chad, on break from the Piggly Wiggly, was Googling ‘What kind of car Jack Ruby was driving when he parked it outside the jailhouse’.  “A 1960 Oldsmobile,” Chad said.  “Not even a question.  Says so right here.”

“Why did you tell Tex the car you sold him was Jack Ruby’s?”  Sister Thelma asked.

“Have you ever seen Tex this excited before?” Manny replied.

“Tell me you didn’t charge him some kind of a premium for the alleged ‘history’ of that Ford Galaxie!” I told him.

“Tex paid exactly what the Hagerty value is on a nice 1959 Ford Galaxie Club Sedan.  Not a penny more,” Manny told the table.

“Then what was the point of making up the story about Jack Ruby and Oliver Stone and Kevin Costner, and whatever else you told him?” I asked.

Manny looked at me sideways as he sipped the hot coffee.  “Are you really questioning me about making up stories?”

“It’s different when I do,” I told him.  “People know what they’re getting.”

“The same will probably be true of anyone he tells about his ‘historical’ car.  If they don’t know better, shame on them.  In the meantime, he’s got something nobody else has.  Without the history, it’s a beautiful classic car.  He can be proud of it.  The story makes him feel like he’s a part of something bigger.  He doesn’t get to feel that way very often.,” Manny explained.

“What are you going to tell Rex?” Sister Thelma asked.  “You know he’ll find out.  They’re twin brothers.”

“Rex is the one who asked me to do it,” Manny said.  “Rex said, ‘I got all the gifts.  The right dad.  The education.  The career.  The better opportunities.’  He just wanted Tex to feel special about something.  He paid for most of the car, as well, but don’t you guys ever tell anyone that.  Tex couldn’t have afforded it himself.”

So there you have it.  A Geranium Ford, with a Ruby connection.  Brotherly love, under the radar.  Little white lies and spontaneously combusting gophers.  Just another hot summer day in Fort Stockton.