Hick's life is a tangled web of buddy relationships. All that mutual backscratching, hand-washing (AS IF!), and bread-buttering must fit into a complicated pattern that could warp the space-time continuum.
Every time Hick's phone rings in the evening, I suspect it's one of the elderlies. I turn off the music playing on HIPPIE to get a gist of one end of the conversation. Like on Monday.
"Hello? [Silence] No. No, that's okay. It's fine. You can do that. Not a problem. Okay. Talk to you later."
"Was that one of your old people wanting something?"
"No. It was my buddy who cleaned out our gutters. He wanted to borrow my trailer, so I said okay."
"That's a lot better payment than the $100 you gave him for balancing on our metal roof!"
I don't mind Hick loaning out "his" trailer. Even though somebody once borrowed his previous trailer, and it was involved in a high-speed accident and totaled, and the driver (plus the borrower) ran from the scene, leading to a knock on the door at 11:30 p.m. for Hick to be questioned by law enforcement officials concerning property damage to utility company structures. They had traced Hick through the license plate, which did not have the courtesy to fall off or be damaged as severely as the trailer.
Anyhoo... on Tuesday evening, Hick got another call.
"Hello? Yeah. Sure. No. I'll have to take my trailer. My truck don't have an 8-foot bed. It's only 6 foot. I can pick you up Thursday. Yeah. You can ride along with me. It's a long drive. Down past Casino Town. Near the bootheel. Okay. I'll talk to you later."
"Well, I figure that wasn't one of your old ladies. Unless now they want you moving furniture for them."
"No. It was my buddy that sold us the $5,000 house. He's got a steel ramp I can have. From his father-in-law who used to have a lawnmower business. I just have to pick it up. It's like a ramp I can use for loading a lawnmower."
"You can't do it Thursday! That's when you're grilling for The Pony. You'll be all tired and cranky by the time you get back."
"No I won't. But Tuesday might be a better day for it. I'll call him back tomorrow."
"Wait a minute! His FATHER-IN-LAW? How is THAT possible? Your buddy is older than you! He was your teacher! How is the guy still alive?"
"He's in a nursing home, Val. He's 99 years old!"
"And he just now decided he doesn't need his lawnmower ramp?"
"No. The family has been clearing things out for a while now."
"How can he not know where the guy lived? It's his FATHER-IN-LAW! Why were you telling him where the town was?"
"I don't know the name of the town. But it's almost to Arkansas. It'll take a couple hours just to get there."
That still didn't answer my question, but as conversations with Hick go, I was okay with not pursuing the illogical interaction.
Anyhoo... I was also wondering if Hick would have his trailer back in time. Turns out he DID, because on Wednesday evening, he said he was going over to the BARn to hook up his trailer for the next day.
"Wait. I thought you changed your plan from Thursday to Tuesday to pick up the ramp."
"I did. But first, I have to patch my trailer. Some of the wood is rotted out. So I'm taking it over to the flip house to use the scraps we had left of the lumber. That's easier than loading the wood and bringing it out here."
Well. I don't consider driving a trailer to town easier than loading scrap boards in the back of a truck, but I'm not a handyman. Hick left home at 6:00 on Thursday morning. At 7:45, I saw SilverRedO drive through the front yard. Hick came running in through the front door.
"Whew! I gotta use the bathroom!"
I don't know why he feels the need to make these grandiose announcements. But when he came out, I had more questions.
"What are you doing here? I thought you were going to fix your trailer."
"It's fixed! I already done it, as soon as I got there. It's ready now."
Here it is Monday. Tomorrow, Hick is off to get his FREE ramp. Which only cost him a couple tanks of gas, some scrap lumber, and enough hours of time to delay an oil change for T-Hoe.
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