Rock Paper Fizzles

Perhaps you remember when Hick had aspirations to be a rock star. Not as a singer/guitarist in Val's garage band, Mommy's Got a Headache Other Dogs' Anuses, but like a Pawn Star, only with rocks. Selling rocks off our land. Uh huh. It's coming back to you now, isn't it. When Hick refused to part with our retirement nest egg rocks down behind the homestead, but agreed to whore out the boys' land for cash.

Our neighbors let it slip, upon a grand inquisition from Hick, that they had signed a contract with THEIR land-raper, stating the terms of the agreement, with a clause that upon completion of the harvest, TheRapist would repair any damage to property or structures.

Ahem. Hick had nothing on paper. I don't know if he even got a handshake from our HarvestMan. Hick had a price, quoted as $10 per ton, for our rocks. HarvestMan would dig them out, load them up, haul them to the quarry, take the money, and show us the receipts upon completion. He estimated that harvest to fetch at least $4000, but thought it would be closer to $7000-$9000,

Of course Hick made the deal. He would text the HarvestMan every now and then to check the status of the harvest. Seems that our man was the same as TheRapist. According to Hick. But he couldn't explain why the neighbors had a written contract, and we did not. Two weekends ago, HarvestMan was supposed to come pay Hick the rock money.

HarvestMan was supposed to stop by on a Saturday afternoon or evening. He didn't show. Hick tried to text him all weekend, but got no response. Shocker. Hick let it slide. He didn't have an explanation. He kept trying to get ahold of HarvestMan. Finally, contact was made. 

Of course HarvestMan wanted to come on Friday, when Hick was not available, what with being hours away running for president. Nothing was heard from HarvestMan Saturday. But today around 1:30, Hick walked through the kitchen door, the brass buttons nearly popping off his overalls, and handed me a wad of cash. In hundred-dollar bills. I told you he was whoring our land.

The total was $4600.

"Oh. I thought he said it would be more."

"Well, he asked me how much he told me he was going to pay. And I said he told me at least $4000, but from the looks of it, closer to between $7000 and $9000. Then he said, 'Remember how I told you those rocks were breaking up?' And I said I did. And he gave me $4600."

Let the record show that Hick has already (mentally) spent between $7000 and $9000 of this windfall on a concrete slab and roof trusses and a metal roof and doors for his garage that he is making out of two freight containers (that he already has full of junk sitting on the 10 acres next to our homestead 10 acres).

Only Val can go in the hole to the tune of $2400 to $4400 by selling the rocks off her sons' land.

Hick has not yet mastered the selfie, or you would see him proudly perched upon that rock, rather than his silhouette upon the forest floor.