Chapter 6

The two brave men were hiding in a ditch filled with cold water, trash and other things that Squiggy didn't want to think about.

He raised his head just barely above the ditch to look out. He was a person coming toward them, the gun slung over the left shoulder.

"Somebody's shootin at us, Mule!" Squiggy said.

"Yeah, with a gun!" Mule said.

Squiggy shook his head, scattering some of the ditch gunk. "That's real swift, Mule!"

"Thanks. Look out!"

Another gun shot blared in the night, inches away from where Squiggy was diving back in the ditch.

The attacker continued to advance slowly. Squiggy wiped the stuff out of his eyes. He could see the person now and recognized the shooter.

"Ain't that Red?" he said.

"I reckon it is," Mule said. "Don't shoot us Red!"

She had a look of rage on her face. "Why not?"

Squiggy had to think quick, not his greatest strength. "Uh, we was comin back to get you!"

"Liar!" Red shouted, lowered her gun and aimed at the truck. She let go with another shot, shattering the left light.

"Crapfire, don't shoot my truck!" Squiggy shouted as he climbed out of the ditch. She aimed the gun at him and he dove back in.

Red took aim and fired at the windshield, shattering it.

"You's gonna wake up Mommy!" Mule said.

"Hey, that ain't right!" Squiggy said. "You don't shoot at a man's truck!"

"Would you rather I shot at your scrawny little tail?"

"Not really. You can go with us!"

"You promise?"

"Sure." Squiggy climbed out of the ditch again. He realized something was in his mouth and he spit it out. "Ugh, that looked alive."

Mule followed Squiggy out of the ditch. "Hey, I didn't spill my beer."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Really dadgummed glad to hear that, Mule." He turned to look at Red. "You through shootin?"

"I ain't decided."

"We got plenty of beer?"

"Okay, I won't shoot no more."

Squiggy looked at Mule, who was dripping the slime off most of his body. "Go get the beer from your mom."

"She might get thirsty."

"Yeah, and we might run out. Get her beer."

Mule took off walking toward the house.

"You got any shrinkage from the cold water?" Squiggy said.

"Not any more than what you're packing on a good day."

Red laughed. Some of the rage was leaving her face.

"Look what you did to my truck!" Squiggy said as he walked over to look at the damage.

"Sorry, Squiggy, I gets kinda emotional when I don't take my pills. It's a woman thing."

"Still ain't no reason to shoot my truck." He walked around to the back of the truck to check on his dog. "You okay girl?"

"What's that thing's name?" Red said.

"Ain't got one yet."

"How long you had it?"

"About a month."

Mule arrived back to the truck, carrying the beer he took from the fridge on the porch. "You oughta call her 'Psycho'."

"You want me to call her 'Psycho'? What for?"

"That's what she looks like," Mule said. "It'd be cool."

"I like it," Red said.

"It does have a ring to it," Squiggy said. He picked his dog up and she licked some of the crap off his face. "That's a good girl. You like that name, Psycho?"

She wagged her stubby little tail and growled at Red. Apparently Psycho didn't like anybody carrying a gun other than her owner.

Some Mexicans across the street were sitting out frown in lawn chairs, playing the music loud and drinking a lot of beer, judging from the bottles scattered in the yard.

"Y'all turn that crap off," Squiggy said. "You're givin me a headache."

They muttered something back.

"What'd they say?" Squiggy said.

"I don't speak Mexican," Mule said.

"They told you to go hump your momma," Red said.

"They did?"

"Yeah."

"Gimme your gun, Red!"

"No, you ain't shootin no Mexican with my gun. "

"How come?"

"It ain't right, that's how come."

"You didn't mind shootin my truck with it."

"Yeah, but I've been upset all day. First, the dang bank comes up and steals my car then you guys run off from me."

Squiggy shook his head. "The bank stole your car? How come?"

"Just cause I was behind four payments," she said. "I'd lost my job and then I was in jail for a couple of months cause of possession. They just wouldn't understand."

"Dang bankers. They stole my home!"

"With his dirty book collection," Mule added.

"Yeah, I ain't got nothing to read now."

Red looked doubtful. "You read them magazines?"

"Yep. I likes to know if they lives around here."

Red started to climb in the truck. Mule followed her as Squiggy continued to glare at the neighbors.

"Let's go," Mule said. "Mommy's gonna be hacked once she finds out we lifted her beer."

"Okay," Squiggy said. He climbed in the truck and fired it up with one turn of the key. Squiggy revved up the engine, causing the hole in the tailpipe to sound close to what the shotgun sounded like. "Ain't that cool?"

"Yeah!" Mule said.

"I like it," Red said as she placed her hand on Mule's cold and wet leg. "You're wet, Mule! And cold!"

"That's what happens when a person has to hide in the ditch water to keep from gettin gut shot," Squiggy said.

Mule nodded. He was watching as Red slowly slid her hand up his leg. She was past the edge of his camo shorts. Red was starting to pant. Oh, she was close. Her hand even closer.

"Quit that, Red," he said. "I ain't gonna let you touch my member."

"How come?" she said.

"Cause you shot at us. I think I'm shot."

Red looked at his head and saw a little blood on his cheek. "It just grazed you, honey!"

"Still, I don't like gettin shot in my own ditch."

"I'm sorry, Mule. I'm better now!"

Mule opened a beer, took a drink out of it and handed it to Squiggy. He stared at the bottle with a little disgust. Usually, Squiggy was not a man with a care for cleanliness, but Mule's teeth and the toothbrush had not shared each other's company a lot.

Finally, Squiggy took a swig. It tasted okay, especially compared with the ditch water he had swallowed.

"Can I have a beer?" Red said.

"Tell Squiggy you's sorry," Mule said.

"Okay, Squiggy, I's sorry," she said. "How can I make it up to you."

Squiggy turned to face her with a smile that was rather disturbing. "I can figger out a few ways."

"But I'm with Mule."

Squiggy looked at Mule. "We can share," he said.

Mule looked a little disturbed. "I ain't much for threesomes. I had a bad experience with my cousins once."

"Where's Big Uns?" Red asked.

"She got mad and took off."

"Maybe we could find her. Then she could be with you, Squiggy, and I can take on the Mule."

Squiggy thought about that for a few seconds as he took off. There was another group of Mexicans up the road. He revved up the motor while driving by.

"Go back to Mexico!" he shouted and threw his spit bottle out the window at them.

"They's my neighbors!" Mule protested.

"All your neighbors are Mexicans," Squiggy said.

"I guess you're right. Where we goin?"

"We's going hunting."

"For what? Deer season don't open until the morning."

"We ain't huntin deer," Squiggy said. He grabbed his gun from the rack on the rear window. "You'll like what we's hunting."

With that, they took off through the deserted town, keeping a sharp eye out for Big Uns. She had disappeared, not that Squiggy was all that upset. They drove across the railroad tracks, took a right at the four way and headed off down the highway. At the flashing yellow light, they turned toward Wister Lake.

"We goin to the lake?" Mule said.

Squiggy pulled next to a lot with tall fences surrounding it.

"Why are we here?" Red asked.

"It's time for a little target practice," Squiggy said. He killed the motor, grabbed his gun and started walking toward the fence. "Tee hee."

He took aim and fired, never seeing the car pull in behind him.

Chapter 7