Thursday, October 12, 2017

He's Father Teresa, Actually

Even though I malign Hick here on a regular basis, I'm confidant that you've figured out he's a pretty nice guy. Not pretty in the beautiful sense, but pretty as in mostly.

This morning Hick left the house after telling me that he was going to spend the day painting the concrete floor of his soon-to-be Freight Container Garage. He's painting it gray, so don't have great expectations. I guess the gray of the concrete is not appealing enough for Hick to stump his footless ankles on. As he left the boudoir, he said something over his shoulder about his Trailblazer needing gas, and that he might go to town for that.

A few hours later, when I left to transfer some money between accounts to cover Hick's trusses...I felt like something was off. Couldn't quite determine what. Until I got halfway to the mailboxes, and remembered that the Gator had been parked behind the Toronado as I backed T-Hoe out of the garage. That only happens when Hick is in the house. Or gone. He would have driven the Gator to the Freight Container Garage area. I hadn't noticed if the Trailblazer was gone. I just knew that Hick wasn't inside, and I'd assumed he was over past the BARn. I had left the kitchen door unlocked.

I called Hick and asked where he was. He sounded a little odd. Kind of quiet for him. He's not one to use or even understand an inside voice. It seemed like he was all hushed.

"I'm in Goodwill now."

"Oh. I thought you were painting your floor. I left the house unlocked. I'll go back and lock it."

"I'm getting ready to leave now. It'll be fine until I get there."

That's all he said. Kind of short-winded for Hick. Normally, he tells me all about what bargains he's seen or just missed. When I came out of our financial institution, I called Hick to see which bill denominations he wanted for paying Buddy for two loads of gravel, and for buying a car for neighbor Tommy next week. The other denominations I planned to deposit into checking for the trusses.

Huh. There I sat, on the parking lot of a savings and loan, a couple thousand dollars in my lap, and now Hick wanted to chat. I clicked the door locks and checked T-Hoe's mirrors.

"This morning I went to Casey's for gas. I was standing there pumping, watching a worker try to explain how a card works at the pumps for a little old lady, and I saw this woman come walking up over the hill by the mushroom factory. She was talking on a cell phone, and waving her arm. You could tell she was upset. She got down in front of the Nub's Pub, across from Casey's, and stood there on the phone. Anybody could have seen that she was crying. Then she came over and asked me, 'Do you think you could take me to Bill-Paying Town?' [12 miles down the highway] I told her sorry, that I was just getting gas and going right back home. It was out of my way. She said she understood. She was trying to get to the treatment center. Her hands were shaking she was so upset. Then I felt bad, and said I'd take her. When I came back out from paying, she was standing beside the car, trying to call the treatment center. I could hear the phone ringing. They didn't pick up until we were all the way to Next Town."

"Well...I guess you're lucky she didn't kill you. Or accuse you of something..."

"I thought of that. If she'd been young, I wouldn't have done it. But she was middle-aged. Late 30s or early 40s. She was saying something to the counselor about how they didn't send anybody to pick her up. And that she knew they said they wouldn't pick her up anymore, but that she was on her way now. I dropped her off at the treatment center, and she went in. She didn't really say anything on the way over. Just 'Thank you' when I let her off."

"Huh. I hope she's okay. Maybe she didn't make her appointments or something. Or violated their rules. Maybe they were trying Tough Love on her, and you helped her instead. I guess she's where she needs to be."

"Yeah. I feel like I did the right thing. I've done my good deed for the day."

Dang it, Hick! Don't you know she could have stabbed you or screamed RAPE? I swear, I don't know how to knock some sense into Hick sometimes. Why can't he just let people fend for themselves? It's one thing to give money to an 11:00 a.m. alcoholic, or to buy a car for a neighbor without any money or job...but he's going to get hurt one of these days. He's totally the kind of guy who would stop to help somebody change a tire, and then get run over by a tractor trailer truck.

This gal might have been scamming him, but she didn't ask for any money, and he DID drop her off at the treatment center, and she went inside.

I'm surprised Hick has not been arrested for indecent exposure, and that he even has a wardrobe left, after giving so many people the shirts off his back.

Hick is a regular Father Teresa.

I'm pretty sure that's what my best ol' ex-teaching buddy Mabel's mom would have said about him.

17 comments:

  1. I would like to say something nice about Hick, or something really clever, but my head is all wrapped around the fact that there is a mushroom factory! What the hell?

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    1. It's been there for years! It's called Monterey Mushrooms. They don't grow them there, but sort and package raw mushrooms that are trucked in.

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  2. Mushroom factory? Hick is too nice. HeWho does stuff like that, too and I worry about him. Why can't the be more like us?

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    1. Yes. It's one of our major industries, not counting the can-opener factory and the prisons.

      Yeah. I don't know why they can't be more suspicious and hard-hearted!

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  3. Another reason I'm glad I don't drive. I don't think I would have been comfortable with someone like that (complete stranger) in my car, probably would have offered to call her a cab, although with a phone in her hand she could do that herself.

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    1. I'm not even comfortable with people I KNOW in the car! Not sure she could afford a cab. Our neighbor Tommy said it costs $35 a trip when he takes it to town, and that's only a 10-mile round trip.

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  4. P.S. I agree Hick is a nice guy.
    Re-mushroom factory (farm), we have them here in SA too, long, long sheds of damp and moisture churning out different types of mushrooms daily to keep up with supermarket demand. I wonder why joeh and Kathy are surprised to find they exist.

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    1. It was the "Factory" not farm that threw me.

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    2. I used to think they grew the mushrooms here, too, but Hick says they're just a packaging and distributing plant.

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    3. Let the record show that the mushrooms are not actually MANUFACTURED there, but around here, everyone calls it The Mushroom Factory.

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    4. joeh, after I wrote that I thought that might be the case.

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  5. Mushrooms do have to come from somewhere...

    Hick is a good hearted man who appears to want the best for everyone, yes a regular Father Teresa as you described, I don't blame you for being concerned but at least he is doing the right thing by people.

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    1. Yep! In college, I rented a house with four girls and a guy, and we had a mushroom growing out of the bathroom carpet! I'm not proud.

      Hick IS doing the right thing, but it worries me. Because other people DON'T always do the right thing.

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  6. Hick is a good guy by cracky. You now know why he was whispering, don't you? My guy git taken for twenty bucks outside a Goodwill by a gal who needed a car part. Uh Huh.

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    1. When it's money, I always figure that it didn't hurt ME that much to lose it, and I'd rather take a chance on helping than not.

      I asked Hick why that lady came to HIM and not someone else pumping gas. He said the old lady didn't know what she was doing, and the other pumper was a younger woman. I guess The Rider thought she could charm Hick easier than a woman.

      Hick said, "I guess those people come to me for the same reason those WEIRD people come to YOU. Because we look like somebody who might help.

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  7. I always knew that you liked him--now I found out why!!

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    1. Yes. My NICE-DAR is pretty reliable.

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