desiresjab
09-24-2016, 01:10 AM
The little tableau nauseated and appalled my heart instantly. Fred Weaver sat in the carport at the end of the drive with a rifle propped backwards between his legs. He had stood an abandoned tire up and stuck wooden matches upright into the grooves, and now stared intently at the piece, while the muzzle stared at his chest. He was bushy and unkempt, and red eyed as some animal.
“Freddy, now, put that gun away,” yelled Arble the landlord, from behind a corner. I was behind the opposite corner by an apple tree.
“Why?” Freddy moaned like a siren on its last turn.
“You don't need it,” said the reasoning voice of Arble.
“I do,” he wailed again.
“No you don't, Fred. Hawk will be home soon.”
“Why, did you call him at the bar? I am just here to see my brother.”
“Put it down, and come on out here,” said Arble. “Will you?”
“I don't want to.”
“Why not?”
“Because they are going to get me now.”
“I heard about a warrant. Is that what you mean?”
“Yeah.”
“You don't need no gun. I can hear Hawk's pickup making the turn right now.”
“Stay away from me,” warned Fred. “Leave me alone.”
“I can't, Freddy, I am worried about you, man.”
“You can talk to Hawk, Fred,” I tried to put in helpfully, still well shielded. "Think about what this would do to him."
Hawkeye's old pickup truck rattled and bounced down the lane. He would see something was up right away, but he didn't even slow down until he slammed to his normal stop, parking where he usually did in front of his concrete steps. His eye took in Fred and his spontaneous art at the mouth of the carport. The door screeched like a familiar dinosaur, as he half fell and half climbed out of the vehicle. Wearing a battered hillbilly hat, a black patch over his empty eye socket, and filthy levi jacket and pants with old motorcycle boots, he stood there with one of his incredulous looks, using the fender for balance.
“What the fµck?” There was no immediate response or acknowledgement from Fred. “Well?”
“I'm finished,” cried Fred. “You are looking at a dead man.”
“No! No! No! No! No! I am looking at...uhhh......in other words...a stupid man!” He finished with a vengeance.
“I agree,” Fred said weakly.
“I mean really. In other words, a dumb fµck!” Hawkeye shook his head and leaned on the porch to negotiate the ten feet to the carport.
“I didn't do as much as they are claiming, Jim.”
“That is why you can beat it in court, Freddy,” Arble tried to reason again from behind his corner.
“If you are not going to...Didi Mau!...uhhh...in other words, you took that gun from my house.”
“You stay away from me, too, Jim. I still might use this.”
“Dumb! How old are those kids, you stupid shїt?”
“They claim I been doing it for two years.”
“Did you?”
“Hell, no.”
“Yeah, but about all of it...in other words...what's the?...are you innocent about it all?”
“All I ever did was give them baths. I swear it. But Cindy has a lawyer that wants to hang me. She is out for my blood.”
“Did you fingerfµck...uhhh..your girlfriend's little kids?” Hawkeye managed to speak. Finding words was diffcult. He knew the right word was there on the tip of his tongue, so he used place holders like in other words, his favorite, and, I mean really, another staple. A stroke had not done this. A land mine in Viet Nam had abruptly taken an eye, some toes, some fingers, some skull and some speech without an apology or even a thank you. Years of heavy drinking had not helped.
“All I ever did was wash them, Jim. Hell, somebody had to do it.”
“Well?” Hawkeye still demanded.
“I passed over those parts as fast and light as I could, I tell you.”
“I hope there was uhhh...in other words...a wash rag.”
“I should have,” said Fred mournfully. “I should have. I was always too drunk to think of it, though.”
“Na-na, na-na, na-na,” Hawk sing-songed. “In other words...I bet you did think of it. Any human man has to think of it.”
“So, you want my ậss on a skewer, too? You know what they will do to me in prison,” said Freddy.
“Uhhh...I dont want you're ậss. Because you're...in other words...my brother. In other words...you only need a better lawyer than her.” He reached out and put his hand on the rifle barrel. He seemed steadier for the moment. Freddy let go.
“You think I got a chance, Jim?”
“You always have a chance,” said Hawk. “Even a dumb fµck. I mean really.” He swayed dangerously, motioning for us to vacate our peeking spots. “I have some good joints. Come on in.” He put his other hand on Fred's shoulder for balance and dragged the gun beside him.
“You guys going to smoke?” said Arble, coming out with relief from behind his corner. I climbed the fence into the alley. We looked at each other.
“Come on,” motioned Hawkeye. The four of us trooped inside. Someone else would judge Freddy, if he didn't get to it first.
“Freddy, now, put that gun away,” yelled Arble the landlord, from behind a corner. I was behind the opposite corner by an apple tree.
“Why?” Freddy moaned like a siren on its last turn.
“You don't need it,” said the reasoning voice of Arble.
“I do,” he wailed again.
“No you don't, Fred. Hawk will be home soon.”
“Why, did you call him at the bar? I am just here to see my brother.”
“Put it down, and come on out here,” said Arble. “Will you?”
“I don't want to.”
“Why not?”
“Because they are going to get me now.”
“I heard about a warrant. Is that what you mean?”
“Yeah.”
“You don't need no gun. I can hear Hawk's pickup making the turn right now.”
“Stay away from me,” warned Fred. “Leave me alone.”
“I can't, Freddy, I am worried about you, man.”
“You can talk to Hawk, Fred,” I tried to put in helpfully, still well shielded. "Think about what this would do to him."
Hawkeye's old pickup truck rattled and bounced down the lane. He would see something was up right away, but he didn't even slow down until he slammed to his normal stop, parking where he usually did in front of his concrete steps. His eye took in Fred and his spontaneous art at the mouth of the carport. The door screeched like a familiar dinosaur, as he half fell and half climbed out of the vehicle. Wearing a battered hillbilly hat, a black patch over his empty eye socket, and filthy levi jacket and pants with old motorcycle boots, he stood there with one of his incredulous looks, using the fender for balance.
“What the fµck?” There was no immediate response or acknowledgement from Fred. “Well?”
“I'm finished,” cried Fred. “You are looking at a dead man.”
“No! No! No! No! No! I am looking at...uhhh......in other words...a stupid man!” He finished with a vengeance.
“I agree,” Fred said weakly.
“I mean really. In other words, a dumb fµck!” Hawkeye shook his head and leaned on the porch to negotiate the ten feet to the carport.
“I didn't do as much as they are claiming, Jim.”
“That is why you can beat it in court, Freddy,” Arble tried to reason again from behind his corner.
“If you are not going to...Didi Mau!...uhhh...in other words, you took that gun from my house.”
“You stay away from me, too, Jim. I still might use this.”
“Dumb! How old are those kids, you stupid shїt?”
“They claim I been doing it for two years.”
“Did you?”
“Hell, no.”
“Yeah, but about all of it...in other words...what's the?...are you innocent about it all?”
“All I ever did was give them baths. I swear it. But Cindy has a lawyer that wants to hang me. She is out for my blood.”
“Did you fingerfµck...uhhh..your girlfriend's little kids?” Hawkeye managed to speak. Finding words was diffcult. He knew the right word was there on the tip of his tongue, so he used place holders like in other words, his favorite, and, I mean really, another staple. A stroke had not done this. A land mine in Viet Nam had abruptly taken an eye, some toes, some fingers, some skull and some speech without an apology or even a thank you. Years of heavy drinking had not helped.
“All I ever did was wash them, Jim. Hell, somebody had to do it.”
“Well?” Hawkeye still demanded.
“I passed over those parts as fast and light as I could, I tell you.”
“I hope there was uhhh...in other words...a wash rag.”
“I should have,” said Fred mournfully. “I should have. I was always too drunk to think of it, though.”
“Na-na, na-na, na-na,” Hawk sing-songed. “In other words...I bet you did think of it. Any human man has to think of it.”
“So, you want my ậss on a skewer, too? You know what they will do to me in prison,” said Freddy.
“Uhhh...I dont want you're ậss. Because you're...in other words...my brother. In other words...you only need a better lawyer than her.” He reached out and put his hand on the rifle barrel. He seemed steadier for the moment. Freddy let go.
“You think I got a chance, Jim?”
“You always have a chance,” said Hawk. “Even a dumb fµck. I mean really.” He swayed dangerously, motioning for us to vacate our peeking spots. “I have some good joints. Come on in.” He put his other hand on Fred's shoulder for balance and dragged the gun beside him.
“You guys going to smoke?” said Arble, coming out with relief from behind his corner. I climbed the fence into the alley. We looked at each other.
“Come on,” motioned Hawkeye. The four of us trooped inside. Someone else would judge Freddy, if he didn't get to it first.