Chapter 4

Squiggy waited for the last customers to leave before sharing his plan.

"Okay, Red, go distract the bartender," he said.

"Why?"

"Cause I said."

"Ain't a good enough reason for me," she said, crossing her arms and looking at him like many women tended to do. Not that it would bother Squiggy. He was used to all kinds of behavior by women. Stubborness had no affect on him, by gosh.

"Cause, Big Uns is going to take some beer."

"No, I ain't!" Big Uns said. "I ain't never been no thief except when I had to get the food from the store that one time to feed my babies."

Red had to think about that for a second. "I thought they caught you with a couple of magazines and feminine protection products."

"No," Big Uns said and waved it away. "That was another time. I done learned my lesson. I ain't no hardened criminal no more."

She certainly wasn't hardened in any part of her body, Squiggy thought, but did not share.

"Okay, Mule will get the beer," Squiggy said.

"I ain't much on thieving," Mule said. "Why ain't you gettin the beer?"

"Cause it was my plan."

"Oh, okay. I'll get it then."

They walked toward the front of the bar. As Red distracted the bartender, Squiggy and Big Uns walked outside to wait. They didn't have to wait long. Mule came running through the door, carrying at least four cases of beer.

"Crapfire, Mule!" Squiggy said. "I expected a twelve pack or something."

Mule threw on the brakes. "You want me to take em back?"

"Heck no, you did good. Throw the beer in the back of the truck."

They approached Squiggy's truck, painted in at least 10 different colors, not counting the rust and bondo. The tires were huge, standing almost up to Mule's waist. Squiggy opened the door and watched Big Uns try to climb in. That wasn't a pretty sight.

"This your truck?" Mule asked.

"Yeah, that's why we's getting in it," Squiggy said. He wanted to throw in a "duh" for good measure, but was afraid Mule might get mad and take the beer with him. Mule brought a six pack up front with him as he climbed in the truck.

Squiggy started cranking the ignition, without much luck. The truck sounded rather sick.

"Crapfire!" he said. "Stupid truck!"

"What's wrong with your truck?" Mule asked.

"If I knew that, don't you think I'd get her fixed?"

Mule shrugged. "Pop the hood."

"You know what you'se doing?"

"Most of the women seem to think so."

Big Uns smiled over that comment and had a dreamy look. Squiggy popped the hood and Mule climbed out and approached the engine.

"What're you smiling about?" Squiggy said.

"Huh, oh nothing," Big Uns said.

"You looked like you was dreaming about eating a whopper or something."

"How'd you know that."

"I recognized the look. This is a man who likes a fresh whopper, you know."

"I ain't much on hamburgers, but do love a good whopper."

"Huh?" Squiggy said.

Before Big Uns answered, Mule peeked around the corner of the hood. "Crank it."

"Crank what?" Squiggy said, sticking his head out the window.

"Uh, the engine."

"Oh, okay." He did and the truck fired up the first turn of the ignition. "Crapfire! He fixed my truck!"

Mule slowly walked around the truck and climbed in. Squiggy noticed Big Uns was not staring at Mule's face, but was too happy to say anything about it. His truck was fixed!

"How'd you do that?" Squiggy asked.

"I cranked the fetzer valve and twisted the doowhickey ," Mule said.

"I like it when people twist my doowhickey," Squiggy said with a laugh.

"I'll fix your truck, but won't touch your doowhickey."

"Whatever Mule, Big Uns will."

The smile on Big Uns' face quickly went away. Apparently that was not the doowhickey she was thinking about.

"You a mechanic, Mule?" Squiggy said.

"Naw, I just know hows to fix an engine."

"Cool. What do you do?"

"I sit around the house and drink beer most of the time."

"Naw, I meant for a job."

"Uh, I work for the government."

Squiggy laughed. "You work for the government? What do you do?"

"Nothing much, they sends me a check every month."

"You on the welfare?"

"Naw, they send me a check cause my father was retarded."

"Your big-dorked daddy was a dummy?"

Big Uns hit Squiggy. "That wasn't nice!"

"So?"

"It's okay," Mule said. "He wasn't the sharpest marble in the bag."

"Yeah, but he did have a big one."

"Uh huh, but sometimes that ain't all it's cranked out to be."

"Do what?"

"You don't like having a snake?" Big Uns asked, getting a dirty look from Squiggy.

"Sometimes I think the chicks only want me for my tool."

"What's wrong with that?" Squiggy said.

"Yeah, that's not something Squiggy would have to worry about," Big Uns added.

"No, that's for sure."

"I'd like the chicks to like me for who I am, not what I got."

"I'd probably not waste much time worrying about it," Squiggy said as he threw the truck in gear and took off.

"What about Red?" Big Uns said.

They turned around and saw her walking quickly toward the truck. As she saw them speed away, Red started jogging, worrying that her Mule was getting away. She tried waving her arms, like that would do any good.

"Hee hee!" Squiggy squealed. Big Uns tried not to smile while Mule had a puzzled look on his face.

"I thought me and Red was gonna get together," he said.

"Aw, she's nasty," Squiggy said.

"Y'all would make a good couple," Big Uns said.

"Big Uns, one more word outta you and you're gonna be hoofing it back to town."

"But it's two miles!"

"Yeah, and you could use the exercise."

"I'm sorry, Squiggy."

"Yeah, just watch it, woman."

Mule dispersed the beer as they headed to town.

"What's the plan?" Mule said.

"We'll go by my house and get some eggs," Squiggy said.

"You ain't got no house," Big Uns said.

"I do too!"

"I heard it was a frigging storm cellar."

Mule leaned forward in the seat. "You lives in a storm cellar?"

"Yeah, but it's just temporary."

"Cool!"

"The bank came and took his trailer," Big Uns said.

"The turds! It was the Bank of Langford. I was only three payments behind! Came home one night and crapfire, my dadgum house was gone. They took my collection."

"What collection?" Mule asked.

"My Playboy collection. I had every copy since 1981. I'm gonna sue that president, Allen Woodard for every dern penny he's got."

"That ain't right," Mule said. "It's bad enough they took your house, but they also nabbed your dirty books."

"Most of the pages were probably stuck together anyway," said Big Uns.

"No, they wasn't. Only a few were. I thought we could get some really rotten eggs and throw at the bank and the cops."

"Wow!" said Mule.

"You'll have to throw them," Big Uns said.

"How come?"

"Squiggy throws like a girl."

"I got a bum shoulder!" Squiggy said.

"You still throw like a girl."

Squiggy was hurt. That just wasn't right, saying something like that. Besides, football was his sport. He earned a reputation that spread all over southeastern Oklahoma for his ankle twisting and cod gouging. Squiggy put at least three guys a game out.

"It's okay," Mule said. "I'm sure there are a lot of things you do good."

"Yeah!"

"What might they be?" Big Uns asked.

"I can..." Squiggy drew a blank, not exactly the best argument.

"You seem to be able to drink a lotta beer," Mule said. "I ain't ever rode with a better drunk driver either."

"Yeah!"

Big Uns chuckled.

"You best get them feet warmed up," Squiggy said.

"Sorry," Big Uns said.

"Can we stop by my house first?" Mule said.

"Yeah, where do you live?"

"Over on east third."

"Really?" Squiggy asked, and got a nod in response. "You live with all them beaners."

"I think they prefer 'Hispanics'," Mule said.

"I heard Big Uns used to have a beaner boy friend."

"Yeah, until the little fart hit me."

"Big Uns put him in the hospital with a broke jaw and knocked one of his eyeballs loose."

"Taught him a lesson, huh?" Mule said.

"Naw, he came back for more. I got after him with some clippers. Almost got his pride cut off before the cops showed up."

They drove into town in silence, trying to get that thought out of their heads. Squiggy turned on the west side of town and noticed as he did that one of Big Uns' jugs kept bouncing on his arm.

"Nice!" he said.

"Huh?" asked Big Uns.

Squiggy just smiled. Every pothole he hit sent one of the massive breasts cascading on his arm. This was just too cool, Squiggy thought, until he realized something was stirring down low.

"Uh oh," Squiggy said, took off his hat and put it in his lap. Yep, Old Roy had come to life.

"How come you got your hat in your lap?" she asked.

Squiggy ignored the question. He turned again and was rewarded with another breast on his arm.

"Watch this," Squiggy said. He turned again and slowly started down a block lined with mostly nice houses. Squiggy got halfway down the block before a light on a house at the corner came on. The woman came to the door and looked outside, fixing Squiggy with a dirty look.

"Who's that?" asked Big Uns.

"That was Mike Hunt's momma."

"Your what's momma?" Mule asked.

"Michael Hunt," Big Uns said. "How come she was outside looking at you?"

"She don't much like me and can hear my truck ever time I get within a mile."

They drove past the Hunt house and turned right. Yep, Big Uns hit him again. Squiggy kept going straight as he approached the highway. He stopped next to a convenience store, saw some high school girls in the parking lot and burned rubber for them. They didn't seem all that amused.

Squiggy continued on past the railroad tracks and through the dying downtown with the decaying buildings. He remembered what it used to be like and missed it. They finally made it to Mule's house, a small one nestled among other small houses that looked like they needed to be torn down.

There was a fridge, couch and chair on the front porch. A large woman was sitting in the chair with a beer in her lap and two black kittens circling her. Squiggy saw that the woman had the chair lined up in a direction that allowed her to watch the television in the neighbor's house.

"Get out and come meet her," Mule said.

Big Uns followed him out of the truck while Squiggy stayed put.

"You coming?" Mule asked.

"Trying not to," Squiggy said.

"Come and meet his momma," Big Uns said.

"Gimme a moment," Squiggy said.

"Something wrong?" Mule asked.

"You could say that."

Mule opened the door and helped Squiggy down. "Don't be rude, my momma don't bite."

Squiggy walked toward the house, leaned over like an old man with bad back problems.

"How come you're walkin like that?" Big Uns asked.

"No reason. Just felt like it."

They walked toward the porch, hearing the snoring as they got closer. Mule stepped up on the porch and the woman jerked awake.

She opened her mouth and Squiggy wished he never left his truck.

Chapter 5