Chapter 32

Many people living in Oklahoma had never seen an actual blizzard. They had seen some good snows, but the storm on Christmas morning was producing snow at a pace most people had never seen before.

In the driver's side window, Mule was writhing, trying to free his rather large body from the truck that had somehow trapped him. Squiggy made his way to the police car and got in, relishing the warmth that had been missing for the last several hours.

Police Chief Arnold stood next to the truck trying to pull Mule out of the window by grabbing his shirt. Sadly, it was not working.

"Help me, Chief Arnold!" Mule hollered.

The chief got his breath for a minute and gave it another go. This time, as he pulled, Chief Arnold lost his grip along with his balance as his feet shot out from under him. For a brief instant, it appeared like some magician had managed to levitate him. But gravity quickly showed its power and the chief dropped to the icey ground, causing a thud that could be heard inside the police car.

Squiggy found the chief's coffee and drank straight from the thermos. It was snowing so hard that it was almost impossible to see the truck now. He could make out Mule, waving at him and pointing down at the chief, who couldn't move.

"Crapfire!" Squiggy said and took another gulp of the coffee. He rubbed his bare hands together and left the police car. He walked over to where the chief was sprawled out on the ground, grunting. "You okay, Porky?"

"Grugh," the chief said.

"What's that?"

"My back!"

"What about it?"

"It's gone out on me! I can't move!"

Squiggy looked at the chief, then back at Mule. Both of them trapped. Who would have ever figured this? He would have laughed, but could tell Mule wanted a piece of his butt for getting warm in the police car.

"Mule, can you slide back into the truck?" he asked.

"No, Squiggy! Don't you think I woulda done that?"

"Uh, not necessarily. Where you stuck?"

"In the dadgummed winder!"

"Naw, something's gotta have you inside. Can you move your legs?"

"I can move one of em."

"Which one? Right or left?

Mule thought about this for a few seconds. He held out his right hand. "I can move this leg."

"Your right-hand leg?"

"Naw, the one on this side of my body."

"Why didn't you say your dadgummed right leg?"

"Cause."

"You didn't know the difference, huh?"

Mule lowered his head. He didn't need this! Mule would rather be at home in bed with his fat mother spooning him. At least he would be warm then.

Squiggy walked around the truck and tried to look in the window. It was blanketed with ice and snow, of course. "I can't see crap!"

"I don't want you to see crap!" Mule declared. "I just wanna git outta here!"

Squiggy walked back around the truck, trying to decide how to solve this situation. If he didn't have a raging hangover and had salvaged some more sleep, that would help. He leaned down next to the police chief and noticed Chief Arnold's head was leaned over to the left. Some drool had escaped his mouth and made it to the ground where it froze. It was like an icecycle hanging from his mouth to the ground.

"Now that there's funny," Squiggy said.

The chief tried to move his head, but was stuck to the ground. "I'm thuck!"

Squiggy solved the situation by hitting the ice, freeing the chief's head. "I best call for help."

"Good idear!" Mule said.

"Naw, don't do that!" the chief argued. "I'm tired of them ragging me for having to rescue me."

"Okay, I'll have 'em get Mule out of the truck and leave you here on the ground."

The chief gave this some heavy thought. "Naw, I'll take their help. Call 9-1-1!"

"What's that number?" Squiggy asked.

"Just use my radio."

"Oh, okay." Squiggy walked over to the police car and sat in the driver's side. He started fiddling with things until the lights and sirens came on. He grabbed the microphone and pushed the button. "Breaker, breaker, how bout them 'mergency people?"

He had the loudspeaker on, loud enough for half the town to hear, just not anybody actually at the 9-1-1 office.

"How bouts a smokey report?" he added.

"Squiggy! Turn them dadgum sirens and loud speaker off."

"How do I do that?" Squiggy didn't wait to be told, just started flipping buttons and switches again. The siren went off. Squiggy turned it on, off and repeated the process one last time just for fun. "Hee hee! This is cool. I oughta be a cop!"

"I'm sure everybody around here would sleep much better if you's was a cop," Mule said.

Squiggy nodded in agreement. Finally, he got the radio to work and talked to somebody at the emergency office. He finished the conversation and walked back over to where the chief was on the ground and Mule was hanging out of the window. His eyebrows were frozen and teeth were chattering.

"Did you get hold of anybody?" Mule asked.

"Yep."

"When they gonna git here?"

"They ain't. Said it was too durn cold."

The only sound for several seconds was the wind whipping down from the north.

"You joshing me?" Mule asked.

"Naw. Said I'd have to handle it."

"That sucks. I'd like somebody who knows what they's doing." Mule watched as Squiggy walked around the truck. "Where you goin?"

He was answered just a few seconds later when there was a loud explosion from the other side of the truck. Squiggy had taken the chief's nightstick and shattered the window on the passenger side. He looked into the truck and saw his friend's leg twisted up in the seatbelt. Squiggy got out his pocket knife and cut the belt, freeing Mule's leg.

"I's free!" Mule hollered. He climbed out of the window and landed on the chief, causing a big grunt. "Sorry 'bout that Chief Arnold!"

Squiggy walked around the truck and saw what looked like Mule and the chief mating. "We ain't got time for that crap."

Mule climbed off and stood. He walked over toward Squiggy, who quickly got in his fighting stance, slightly lowered with his face hidden behind two fists. He expected to get thrashed in this fight since Mule knew all his moves. But instead, Mule came up and hugged him, lifting Squiggy off the ground.

"Thank you, Squiggy!" he said. "You saved my life!"

"Whatever, put me down! I'm gittin dizzy!"

"Oh, sorry." He lowered his friend to the ground and they walked over to the police chief, his arm still around Squiggy's shoulder.

"Pick him up, Mule," Squiggy said.

"No prob." Mule grabbed the short and fat police chief and hoisted him up on his shoulders without exerting hardly any effort. "What do you want me to do with him?"

"Put him in the back seat."

"Your truck ain't got no backseat."

Squiggy pointed at the police car. "We's takin it!"

Mule deposited the police chief in the car and shut the door. He climbed in the front seat and waited for Squiggy. He had covered the broken windows with cardboard and some duct tape that Squiggy always kept behind the seat in his truck.

After securing his truck, Squiggy walked to the car and got behind the wheel. "You boys ready?" he asked.

Mule nodded. The chief grunted.

"I ain't never drove no police car before," he said and promptly floored it. "Got good asseleration!"

"Slow 'er down!" the chief pleaded.

"I's drivin, Porky. Don't be one of them backseat drivers!"

Squiggy started tapping the brakes and jerking the wheel, making them skid all over the highway. Fortunately, there were no other cars or trucks on the road, giving him a free playground.

He almost skidded into the traffic light pole and decided to slow down. Squiggy drove toward the outskirts of town and pulled into the chief's driveway. He and Mule got out of the car and helped drag the chief into his house. They dropped him on the couch and started to leave.

"I need them keys," the chief said.

"Naw, we's gotta borrey your car for a while."

"No!"

"Gotta get home, Porky."

They left and could hear the protests, which they ignored.

"What're we gonna do?" Mule asked.

He saw the smile on Squiggy's face and knew this wasn't good.

Chapter 33