We finally got it together and I started us rolling though both of us for the next couple of hours would look at each other and bust out laughing.
"So what's up Gardener? Where are we going? Is my Mom here?"
"We need to eat. We're heading northwest. I hope so" I grinned at him. "Did I miss anything?"
"Do you think we are close?"
"I hope so. You get anything at night? Any dreams?"
He shook his head, looked down at the floorboard and mumbled "Sometimes I think I might never have another dream or see my mom again." Even quieter he said "Sometimes I'm afraid I will forget what she looks like."
I thought about what he said and told him the truth, or at least my truth, "Your Mom is unforgettable kid. Trust me on that one."
He nodded his head but I doubt if what I said helped.
We were losing the light when I spotted the tavern. It was busy and it probably had shitty food but it would do. We parked away from everyone. I don't know why I bothered. I knew we would come back out and find a big ass SUV or truck parked next to us and closer than I liked. Such is life. I thought about leaving Woof in the truck but I decided not to. No reason really. It just felt right.
"C'mon Zane. Lets go see how bad they can screw up a bowl of soup."
"Good. I'm hungry."
I was getting ready to jump down out of the truck when, for no reason, it just seemed right, I stopped and told Zane "Hold up." I dug the snub nosed .38 I carried strapped in a holster around my boot and handed it to him.
"Look at me" I told him.
I waited until he was, struck again by his eyes and who they reminded me of, and asked him "No bullshit. Can you use this?"
"Yes."
I didn't hear anything I didn't like in that "Yes" so I told him "Find a place to put it" and handed it to him. Then I dropped down out of the cab, and headed towards the tavern. I didn't call him and I didn't hear Zane call him either but Woof was out of the truck and looking at the tavern.
Really liked the last part.
ReplyDeleteI think I was 8 the first time my dad taught me shoot one of his pistols. He handed it to me and calmly said "This will not go off by itself. You have to pull the trigger." I was careful to point it down range like I had been taught on my .22 but when I touched the trigger he launched into me screaming never to touch the trigger until I was ready to shoot and there was no such thing as an accidental discharge.
I tried to give all 4 of my kids the same lesson. Dad was only able to help me with the first two. Each one remembers that first lesson. I hope as well as I remember mine.
Jim in MO.
Yeah. Strange how things change. Where I live now you would be considered a bit "off." Where I grew up it would be what you did.
ReplyDeleteSome people are not going to have the time to learn the lesson you learned and taught. Life is a bitch when the first wave hits and you spent your life avoiding how to swim.