Lou Jane Temple - Revenge of the barbeque queens

REVENGE OF THE BARBEQUE QUEENS

LOU JANE TEMPLE

-1-

Pigpen Hopkins woke with a hangover. It had been a hard night of celebrating. A county legislator who he had bribed seven months earlier had finally come through with a lucrative plumbing contract to replace all the pipes in the aging Jackson County Courthouse in Kansas City. Pigpen had spent yesterday climbing and crawling around the building, and it was a better deal than he could have dreamed. After figuring out where he could take the inspectors to view the new plumbing, he estimated he would only have to actually replace one-third of the pipes. There was no way anyone could check the rest of his work without tearing the place apart. It would cost a little money to persuade the inspectors to stay where Pigpen put them, but a bribe or two was in the budget.

This had nothing to do with saving the taxpayers of Jackson County money, however. Pigpen planned to bill them for replacing everything.

On most days, the fact that he was going to be able to bilk the public out of thousands of dollars was enough to send Pigpen on a celebratory binge of Jack Daniel's and beer chasers. But there was even more good news.

Pigpen had gotten the call just as he was getting ready to sneak out the back door of his Independence, Missouri, split-level early to meet the other members of his bowling team in the cocktail lounge at the lanes. Pigpen's wife hated it when he left the house at six for the nine o'clock league. She would have liked for Pigpen to help her put the kids down before he went off to meet the boys. That was why Pigpen was in the process of dodging out through the basement when one of his sons yelled, "Dad, telephone." Pigpen couldn't think of anyone he wanted to talk to but he didn't want to be discovered missing quite so soon, so he took the call.

That call was the real reason for celebration, the reason that Pigpen bought three rounds of drinks himself for the entire team. Of course, he didn't let anyone in on the incredible windfall that had come his way. He told them about the courthouse contract and they all laughed about fleecing the chumps downtown. But he didn't mention the phone offer that would mean real money. Now all he had to do was figure out what to do with his partners. It had been years since they made the promise to teach other. And the offer did come to him. Maybe his partners didn't have to know at all.

-2-

Heaven Lee opened her eyes and looked around. There was red hair everywhere. Sal d'Giovanni was looking at her proudly. It was Sal' s barber chair Heaven was sitting in and Sal's handiwork that had resulted in all the red hair on the floor. His latest masterpiece was longer than a crew cut but not by much. Because Heaven's hair was wavy it wouldn't conform to a traditional boy's cut. Now it was very short on the sides with a longer wavy red mop on top. Heaven couldn't stand to actually see her hair being cut. She usually closed her eyes and waited for it to beaver.

"Sal, you're a genius." Heaven swung out of the chair and started to hug him. The unlit cigar that stuck out of Sal's mouth changed her mind. She headed for the coffee pot instead.

"Of course it looks great. I did it. I just don't know what the heck got into you this morning. What made you want to whack off that long French twist thing?" Sal asked.

Heaven patted her head once more. "It's the Barbeque World Series, Sal. It's coming here to Kansas City next weekend and the first weekend of October."

Sal chuckled. "Don't tell me you and that kitchen crew of yours are gonna try to beat those good old boys from Tennessee and Texas. Why, they'll eat you for lunch."

Heaven started to be defensive and look hurt but she knew Sal was correct in his assessment. "We are adventurous, but, no, you have to have won a major barbeque contest already this season to be asked to the World Series. You have to earn the right to compete. This is the big one, and there's lots of money involved. I am a judge, though, and I'm competing with a group of celebrity chefs for charity. We have a team named the Que Queens. So there."

"Que Queens. Celebrity chef, eh. Well, la-di-da. Of course you're the celebrity chef of our block, honey."

Sal's barbershop and Cafe Heaven were right across from each other on Thirty-ninth Street. Heaven did have a habit of getting in the news, along with Sal and most of the folks who worked at Cafe Heaven. They all laughed that Kansas City would be pretty dull without Thirty-ninth Street.

"It is a stretch, I guess, to say actual 'celebrity' chefs, but we raise a lot of money for charity. And we have a ball. Everyone on the team is a food professional and two women are really barbeque experts. They've taught us the difference between grilling and slow cooking at least. We won't make total fools of ourselves," Heaven said.

"Don't bet on it," Sal mumbled.

"You'll love this, Sal. Our contest is boys against the girls. We will try to answer that age-old question: Who can make the best barbeque, male or female?"

"You don't want my opinion on that one," Sal said.

"Yes, I do, Sal, but you have to pay to give it. The whole point of the contest is that people will throw in two bucks to vote, and all the proceeds go to the Food Bank. We're going to make sauce, and sell T-shirts and all the extras. It'll raise more money and the whole thing will entertain the crowd while the serious competitors fight it out. Heaven was sitting in a chair in the front window of Sal's, drinking coffee and waving across the street at her friend Mona Kirk. Mona owned a shop called the City Cat. The store was full of cat stuff for the actual cat, bowls and collars, and human stuff for cat fans, earrings and T-shirts. Mona was standing in her front window, as usual, talking on the telephone. She waved back at Heaven.

"I still don't get it, H, What does this barbeque whoop-de-do have to do with you getting your hair cut off?" Sal was sweeping up the red-haired debris as he grilled Heaven.

Heaven was primping at her reflection in the front window. "The smoke gets in your hair and you just can't get it out. We had a practice rib smoking last weekend and everything I. wore had to be washed three times. The smoke didn't come out of my hair no matter what I shampooed with. I'm going to be around smoke for the next two weeks so it seemed like a good reason for a new look. You know how I like to change my look every once in a while, whether I need it or not."

"There's one thing you never change, Heaven. You never change that red color." Sal said.

"Not since I found this color and the genius that mixes it up. Renee and I have been together for twenty some years now. A good colorist is as important as a good husband, Sal, maybe even more important."

Sal motioned for his next customer to take the chair, a suit type who had been listening to every word. One of the reasons everyone went to Sal's was for the latest information. "You should know, Heaven. You've had Renee longer than any of your husbands," Sal quipped. Heaven had been married five times so far.

"Now, Sal, don't be mean. Not all of those were my fault. I better go to work. It's almost ten, I've got chopping and dicing to do." Heaven left a twenty-dollar bill in the coffee can where customers were supposed to leave some change for the coffee fund. Sal wouldn't let Heaven pay for her haircuts, so she usually left money in some out-of-the-way place around the barbershop. By the time Sal found it, he just wondered how it got there and stuck it in his pocket.

As Heaven crossed Thirty-ninth Street to her cafe, she couldn't help doing a little dance. Kansas City was beautiful in late September. The city had had plenty of rain early in the month so the trees were turning slowly to gold and orange and a shade very close to that of Heaven's hair.