Getting In... and Writing It Down
“First
off: You go up there and rascal
your way in. Somehow. Then you’s BUY. THEN.. you’s write it down; what you
did. Now THAT is my argue about
you.”
“Getting
in, buying or writing the story?”
“CARN-SOUND-YOU
ALL OF IT. Jesus.”
“Because
you lost out?”
“Because
you DID THAT.”
“Well
I’d been watching Tallmadge’s for YEARS”.
“WELL
SO HAVE I.”
“So
GO IN THERE.”
“SHE
WON’T LET ME IN.”
“Never
let me in before either.”
“YES
you rascal BUT WHY NOW.”
“I
told you; I wrote it down. YOU
READ IT.”
“I
CAN’T READ.”
“I
know that. But she read it to you
you said.”
“SHE
READS IT TO ME OK: So I get up and
tell her that’s that and to stop.”
“Then
you drive right over here with the hissy fit?”
“WELL
WHAT DID YOU EXPECT ME TO DO?”
“Come
over and admit defeat like a gentleman.”
“OH Jesus YOU’S IMPOSSIBLE.”
“OH Jesus YOU’S IMPOSSIBLE.”
“That’s
what you always said about Tallmadge’s.
So I thought you’d LIKE my story”
“SHE
IS IMPOSSIBLE.”
“Not
anymore she ain’t; I’m in now.”
“So
what you gotta write it DOWN FOR.
Ain’t that ENOUGH. You’s
TELL’EM HOW you DO IT. DON’T DO
THAT!”
“They
ain’t do’en anything WITH IT.
CAN’T. Couldn’t even FIGURE
a place. See ‘em STANDING out
there all ah gawk.
“Well
never you mind TELL’EN ‘EM; I don’t NEED THAT anymore than I NEED YOU.”
“Tallmadge’s
is WIDE OPEN. You don’t OWN that
place.”
“TRIED
TO.”
“But
we’ve TALKED about it for TWENTY YEARS.”
“So
you got the barn door open and her STANDING THERE.”
“Nope: She was in the back. Walked all the way through the
barn. She was at her sheep out
back”.
“Jesus
she’d ah RUN ME right off if I’d DONE THAT.”
“She
ain’t NO HARM.”
“WELL;
to YOU.”
“I
waited on Mrs. Tallmadge. Call her
that. Not Kitty. YOU call her KITTY?”
“JESUS: Went to SCHOOL with her. She ain’t MRS TALLMADGE. She’s KITTY.”
“Right. That’s IT right there. Probably.
“NOT
probably AT ALL.”
“Well...
she sees you; knows you can’t READ.
Knows you can’t SPELL.
KNOWS you and Frankie STOLE HER DONUTS”.
“THAT’S
ALL a LONG TIME AGO.”
“All
the MORE reason NOT to want-ta SEE YOU.’
“You’s
a miserable rascal is WHAT you ARE.
“She
MARRIED FRANKIE.”
“An
then he DROWN-DEAD.”
“If
you call falling of a boat DRUNK drown-dead.”
“WHAT
do YOU CALL IT?”
“Suicide”.
“You’s
a MISERABLE RASCAL.”
“That’s
what I was saying about her while I was walk’en BACK through her BARN.”
“NOW
SHE ain’t as TUFF AS ALL THAT.
“She
was wrestling her sheep so figured she’d WRESTLE ME.”
“You
stink’en... THEN WHAT?”
“Went
RIGHT AT HER; SAID ten bucks on that TRUNK. She had the damn sheep upside down pull’en on its LEG.”
“So
she didn’t just SHOOT YOU.”
“No. Never seen her GUN. I don’t think she’s GOT ONE”.
“She
got one Frankie’s OLD GUN Eddy SEEN IT ON HER.”
“That
was at her POND with the muskrat hunting.
SHE AIN’T a GUNNER.”
“GUN
YOU she will YOU WATCH OUT!”
“Well
I bought that damn TRUNK and she PULLED that SHEEP UP to sell it to me.”
“THAT
I don’t BELIEVE.”
“DID
TOO; showed her TEN. Just like I
wrote: UP SHE COME.”
“THAT
just WON’T HAPPEN with HER.”
“Took
the ten”.
“NOT
HER.”
“YOU
NEVER TRIED IT: She wants MONEY
like the rest of ‘em.”
“SHE’S
HEELED.”
“She
ain’t THAT heeled.”
“Heeled
good enough.”
“She
took it and kept taking it; I kept hit ‘en her right up through the barn.”
“HIT
HER for what you got; WHAT HAPPENED to THAT STUFF.”
“Sold
it”
“To?”
“Flea
market.”
“All
of it?”
“Most
all; some wouldn’t go.”
“But
nothing good?”
“Nothing;
firkin old red but lid cancer. The
trunk. b-chest. Boston rocker.”
“B-chest?
“Wicked beat. HAD the till lid though. Best was the rug.”
“Wicked beat. HAD the till lid though. Best was the rug.”
“Runner
you said”.
“Nothing
but from the HOUSE.”
“Nothing?”
“Well;
paid her one ten ($110) on that.
Sold it one forty.”
“You
PAID WELL.”
“HAD
too; from the house. COULD SEE
THAT.”
“WHY
it out THERE”.
“Dog
‘arfed on it she said. She said it
SMELLED. So she chucked it. Up in the front stall; hung it. She knew it was good. Didn’t want it though.”
“Barf
on it?”
“Couldn’t
see ANYTHING. I didn’t SAY
anything either. ‘Cept... from
a barn you know”.
“They
sniff it?”
“The sniff test? No sniff test. Figured on that.”
“THAT
HOUSE... . So; well, YOU SAID your
going BACK.”
“But
not gonna move on the house yet.
Wait. Work up through that
barn again. You know; get that in
there GOOD. She’s got plenty in
there. Only USES the back. That’s all NEW there; that SHEEP
pens. The rest is bailed right in. Up front.
“Why
was the door open?”
“Yeah
couldn’t figure at first but saw she got some bails of that GOOD hay. PAID FOR THOSE so I figure THERE GOES
THE CASH.
“Wicked
rascal you.”
“Just
doing my job, Sir.”
“Wicked
rascal SIR yourself.”
“I
don’t think I know ANYONE to have EVER been in that house. ANYONE.”
“Not
since Frankie drown-dead I know; no one.
Ever.”
“I’m
getting in. Then I’m gonna write
it down.”
Priorities can change…want into need.
ReplyDeleteSPRING OF LIFE…Thanks Uncle Bill, I’ll keep that hatchet forever, I’ll never let it go.
WINTER OF LIFE…I need a warm coat, mine’s threadbare, I’ll trade you my hatchet for that mackinaw.