Normally, the only representatives of the federal government we see here in Varmint County are occasional visits from agents from the Division of Alcohol, Tobacco & Firearms.
Since most ATF agents never return from their explorations of the lands controlled by the Hockmeyer clan or up in Haig Hollow, those visits have become less common in recent years.
But this year the "feds" have been seen all over the place, as it is 2010, time for the national census when our nation tries, yet again, to get an accurate head count of just how many Varmint Countians there actually are.
As you can imagine, this is no easy matter. Although the U.S. Census Bureau tries to hire people locally to go out and interview those who failed to return their census forms by mail, there are not a lot of takers around here for the temporary parttime jobs.
Although Varmint County folk are by and large a hospitable lot, most locals are not all that eager to go knocking on doors uninvited. It's just not part of the culture in the mountains to pry into your neighbor's business, at least not in the direct manner required of census workers.
"I don't know why they want to go running around knockin' on doors and botherin' folks for that little bit of information," Aunt Sophia Pinetar said the other day. "They could go down to Norma Jean's Beauty Parlor and find out everything they want to know about nearly everyone here in Lower Primroy."
"Well, they're not really interested in how many of Gertrude Bagwell's daughters are carryin' on with the married Perkins boys, or whether cousin Ike is still havin' to sleep down at the boat dock since his wife kicked him out of the house, Aunt Sophia. They just want to know how many people live here, how old they are and stuff like that," her niece Fluvia Pinetar pointed out.
Fluvia, the chain-smoking office manager here at the Varmint CountyWarWhoop & Exterminator, is one of the few locals who applied for a census job, figuring that she could earn enough extra cash to buy a new washing machine and dryer.
Fluvia, of course, isn't allowed to talk about the people she interviews or what they had to say, but somehow little tidbits about the census workers and their experiences still manage to get around town.
"I had one of them census fellers come to my door last week, a right young boy, not a year over 30," Granny Perkins told the girls down at Norma Jean's. "I invited him in for a piece of my apple stack cake and glass of ice tea and you know what? He said he weren't allowed to come in my house!"
"I never heard tell! Nobody turns down your stack cake, Granny," exclaimed Belinda Bandit.
"Well, you know I didn't let him get away without feedin'him. I told him to just sit himself down on the porch swing and I'd fetch him some cake if'n he wanted to interview me."
"He must'a liked it. Came back the next day, said he's plum forgot to ask me some of the questions and could he please take another minute or two of my time. Naturally I fetched the boy another piece of cake."
Despite the peculiar nature of many Varmint County residents, the census takers managed to slowly collect their data, at least for most of the county. One evening a few weeks after the census work started, the weekly poker game down at Doc Filstrup's clinic was interrupted by a stranger.
"Are you Doctor Clyde Filstrup?" the stranger asked, adding, "I'm Herman Ragwell. I'm the field operations supervisor for the Census Bureau in this district."
"I think everybody around this table has done been counted Mr. Ragwell. This here's retired County Judge, Colonel Hugh Ray Jass. That's our former Sheriff, Thaddeus Bandit. Everybody just calls him Smoky T. This gentleman is Criminal Court Judge Hobert Harwell and that pathetic creature to my right is County Mayor Clyde Filstrup Junior, who we just cleaned out of his last dollar."
"Well, I'm not here to interview you gentlemen but I've got a problem. I talked to Sheriff Hiram Potts about it and he told me I should talk to your group here, that you're sort of the people in charge in Varmint County."
"Well, nobody's ever in charge of Varmint County, but our little circle here does tend to be in the know about most things. What's your problem?" Doc asked.
"We've just about finished the census here in Varmint County, but we've run into some real problems. All of our field workers have quit, including the two crew leaders for this county, and we're not completely finished yet."
"Exactly why did everyone quit? I know some of the local folks you got working here and they're not quitters," Colonel Hugh asked.
"That's just it. They were all doing a good job.A little slow compared to other areas, but we understood going in that it would take longer here than most places.The problem started when our crew leader asked one of the workers to go to a place called Haig Hollow."
Doc almost swallowed the stub of a cigar clenched in his teeth. Judge Hobert "Hard Time" Harwell let out a half-laugh, half-sob, and Colonel Hugh laughed so hard that the bourbon he was sipping dribbled out his nose.
"So, let me get this straight. You had a crew leader who actually assigned a census worker to visit Haig Hollow? I presume he wasn't from around these parts," Doc chuckled.
"Actually not. He's from over in Burr County. He assigned a young fellow from here, Toady Aslinger, to handle an assignment area called Haig Hollow and the Aslinger boy just quit, walked out talking to himself."
"Then he tried to assign it to another member of his crew and she burst into tears and walked out. All the local hires refused to take the assignment so our crew leader, Calvin Woodman, went out there himself. I received all his files and paperwork in the mail, along with a note that just said, `I resign.'"
"Hmm. Sounds like your man made a trip to Haig Hollow," Sheriff Smoky cut in. "Lucky he survived to quit."
"Alright, gentlemen. I'm getting a sense here that this place, this Haig Hollow, is dangerous. Question is, how do we get a census count for the dozen homes that are marked on our assignment book. None of them returned a questionnaire in the mail."
"A dozen homes! Mr. Ragwell, last count I did, there are roughly 900 people living in Haig Hollow," Colonel Hugh sputtered.
"That's conservative. I've sentenced at least a hundred different Haigs to jail time in the past three months alone," Judge Harwell added.
"I don't frankly know how many homes are in this Haig Hollow, gentlemen. Our maps are a little out-of-date. I checked and when our map crews were working in Varmint County last year, that area wasn't covered."
"What, did the map people quit too?"
"I don't know. They disappeared without a trace."
"Alright, Mr. Ragwell. What you need is some inside help."
"We can't ask local law enforcement to escort our people. It's against regulations and all of our information is confidential."
"I wasn't talking about law enforcement. Sheriff Potts would refuse to send a deputy into Haig Hollow and besides, if the Haigs saw a badge it would just make 'em mad."
"What you need is a Haig working for you. That's the only way you're going to get anything out of there."
"Is there a Haig I can talk with about this?" the perplexed census official asked.
"Well, Corky `Little Poison'Haig operates the Dead Rat Tavern up near the interstate. Most of the others seldom come out of the hollow unless they've got business in town," Sheriff Smoky observed.
"Corky won't do. He's not all that cooperative and besides, I've just sentenced him to 30 days in jail for assaulting one of his customers with a baseball bat," Judge Harwell pointed out.
Suddenly, Doc brightened with the look of a reborn Primitive Baptist. "Penny! Of course, Penny Haig."
"Who is that?" Herman Ragwell asked.
"Penny Haig is the granddaughter of Elijah `Big Poison' Haig. Elijah is the elder of the Haig Clan. His word is law in Haig Hollow and Penny is the apple of the old man's eye," Doc explained.
"Penny was also the star six foot-six inch center of the Varmint County Lady Vipers. She averaged 40 points, 26 rebounds and 18 blocks a game over four years. All the big colleges wanted her," Hard Time chimed in.
"But she had a little trouble with her grades. She decided to play for a small college in North Carolina instead," Doc added. "Penny's dad, Jeremiah, was old Elijah's oldest boy. He was killed in a still explosion when Penny was just a little girl, her ma ran off with a salesman and Penny and her younger sister were raised by their grandpa and grandma."
"But she's way over in North Carolina," Clyde Junior cut in.
"For the county mayor you don't know nothing, son. Penny's already home for the summer. She's working down at Pothole Perkins' lumber yard. Says that toting around those two by eights and stacking railroad ties helps her stay in shape."
"Mr. Ragwell, come by my clinic in the morning. I'll take you down to the lumber yard and introduce you to the answer to all your problems."
Next month: Will the Haigs finally get counted for the first time since the downfall of the Southern Confederacy?
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