Val Is a Size Zero Today

As I write this, it is 3:00 on Wednesday afternoon. Let the record show that I don't feel guilty about trashing Hick several times a week. He doesn't mind. He ASKS to be on my blog. Like a misbehaving student trying to get attention, ANY attention is preferable to no attention. Hick even shares some of his stupider moments with me. "I got a story for your thing I bet people will want to hear!" So I don't feel bad at all revealing Hick's foibles. He's a willing participant.

There's not much that makes Val feel small. Today, she's an anorexic supermodel who's been Shrinky-Dinked.

The formerly-missing Hick from Tuesday must have felt guilty. He called me this morning (didn't even say he was checking to see if I was still alive) to report that he had been to Goodwill over in Bill-Paying Town, and was later planning to go by his Storage Unit Store to sort some of his fishing lures.

"Oh, and I heard on the radio that a guy over in Teaching Town has a gun, so I'm headed there now."

"WHAT? You heard there's a guy with a gun, and you're GOING THERE?"

"No, Val. There's not a guy with a gun. There's a guy that HAS a gun. I heard him on Tradio, and it sounds like a gun I want. Actually, he has two, but one has a broken stock. That's okay. His price is worth it for the one I want."

"Well, you don't really need any more guns so you can make ten dollars profit off them."

"I can make $35 or $40 on this one!"

"You can do that with plain old junk that you get for free, or pay a couple dollars for. But who am I to give you advice on making money? I'm getting ready to go buy lottery tickets to lose mine."

"Yeah. And I'll make a profit."

"When it finally sells. Anyway, you need to pay more attention to how you word things like going to see guy that you heard on the radio has a gun. I'm going to town, but probably not until noon."

"I'll be up at my store then."

SilverRedO was parked in front of Hick's Storage Unit Store when I went by. It was gone when I passed there on the way home. I saw it parked in front of the BARn. I got my lunch together, and sat down in the La-Z-Boy to put my feet up and check in with Hick. He had plans to drive a buddy to the city at 5:30, to pick up the buddy's new truck.

Since Hick was in the BARn, I sent him a text. Our phones don't work very well out here in the black hole of Sprint signal. Hick has to go outside the BARn to answer. He can get a text inside, though. This was at 2:04. I clipped some fast-food coupons for August. Hick is a real couponer with his lunches. By 2:22, I still hadn't heard from him. I sent another text. No reply. At 2:35, I tried to call. Seven rings, then voice mail.

Huh. I guess he's all right. But he usually answers the texts. He's got to be there. The truck is there. The Gator is under the carport. I don't hear a tractor or a mower. Maybe I should check on him. Some of that hoard could have fallen on him, and he's trapped! Or maybe he found some PR0N in the storage unit stuff, and had a heart attack! (From watching, not from finding!) Or maybe Jack somehow closed him in there for revenge!

I went over to check. Driving T-Hoe, of course. I'm not THAT lazy. Yes I am. Surely you didn't think I'd walk, in this heat. Besides, if something was wrong, I'd have to drive Hick somewhere. Or get back to the house to get a good signal on the house phone to call someone. I wouldn't feel right shuffling along at a slow walk.

Juno ran alongside T-Hoe, barking like we were doing something exciting. Jack and Copper Jack were already in the BARn field. Jack greeted me by jumping on my thighs as I tried to walk from T-Hoe to the BARn. The garage door was open. So the Jack's Revenge theory was off the table.

By now I'd worked myself into a fit of annoyedness. I'd been trying to get ahold of Hick for 45 minutes. If he was okay, I was ready to kill him! I was simmering, like a teakettle ready to squeal, as I walked under the door.

"HEY!"

"Yeah?"

"I'd like to know WHAT'S going on over here that's so important you can't even pick up your phone and send me a text!"

Hick came walking through a maze of shelves filled with treasures, holding a rod and reel. He was alternately dropping a line with a lead sinker on the end, and reeling it back in.

"I'm putting fishing poles together for the Boy Scout camp. One of my buddies works down there, and he says some of the kids don't have fishing poles. I'm putting reels on these poles, and I'm giving him six of them for the camp."

Yeah. I feel pretty small right now.