HOW BOREDOM TURNED INTO A CRIME
by: Yvonne Remington
Copyright 2013 Yvonne Remington
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
The average sized dust tornado twisted its way towards the three idle teenagers. The boys saw it the annoying dust tornado twisting its way towards them. As it approached, the schoolmates jumped down from the split rail fence, first Carl then Skipper then Leon. A dust tornado could be annoying to a person’s ability to breathe and see. They were more nuisance than threat to those who lived in ranch territory and avoided whenever possible.
The boys walked side by side in the opposite direction of the twisters’ path. It was otherwise a pleasant early Saturday morning in July. They would spend an hour or two together, plotting and planning before the sun got too high and made it unbearably hot and dry. The three made every effort to meet every Saturday morning, before their families were up and chores were doled out. The boys spent their free time waiting for their senior year at Cattlemen High School sitting on that split rail fence that divided Skipper and Carl’s family ranches.
Their union of friendship bonded out of necessity due to the open spaces of the ranch land. The summer vacation played heavy on the social life of all the youth in the county and those who lived closest to each other formed a union. Carl was the oldest of five children and expected to take at least one of the younger siblings with him if he left the ranch. He believed this was his parent’s way of keeping him out of trouble. If he managed to get away without any of them there was always a price to pay when he returned. It usually wasn’t worth the price. Skipper lived with his father, a widower, who chose alcohol as a pass time. His only sibling was an older sister that left for college the year before. Leon was an only child whose parents rarely spoke to him, let alone among themselves. Their farm was automated and Leon’s only chores were done quickly with most of his time his own. His parents rarely knew where he was and he felt they didn't care.
As they walked, Leon asked a question to anyone who would listen: "Either of you going to the county fair next weekend?" Leon being the youngest of the three was often not taken seriously, which made him try that much harder to be liked.
'If we don't have anything better to do, we will." Skipper was the joker of the trio and found humor in almost everything around him. They all snickered at his comment. "I wouldn't mind getting another free feel from that Snyder wench. She’ll be there, I’ll bet." Skipper’s eyes rolled up and smiled as if he was picturing himself in heaven.
"You mean you copped a free feel and didn’t tell us?" Leon’s had an obsession over girl’s breasts and was now salivating over the conversation.
"Yup, got one cupped right here in this hand.” Skipper cupped his right hand and extended for both to imagine. “Quit your drooling, Leon!”
“Just one, boy that’s cold? How did it feel?” Carl experienced dreams over one of his classmates, Maggie Newton. He had known her for over four years and she finally let him kiss her last semester behind the bleachers after a game. He felt her breasts through his tee shirt. They were soft like marshmallows and the nipples like maraschino cherries. He felt that he made progress with her last year and was hoping to make her his girl this year. She flustered him so bad he couldn’t think straight when she was anywhere near him.
“Oh, it was marvelous. It was quick, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. It was soft, not too big and yet firm, if you know what I mean.” Skipper signed.
“What happened then?” Leon started playing with his crotch in order to shift his package in his jeans. He realized he was drooling and wiped his mouth.
“The little bitch, she was teasing me. She giggled and then pulled her blouse down and ran away.’ Skipper’s smile disappeared. The memories were still vivid and not funny.
“Where did all this happen?” Carl’s curiosity showed. Carl could picture his episode with Maggie under the bleachers.
“Behind the feed store when we went in town for supplies. It was as if she baited me, hooked me in, and caught me a then let me go. Just like a damn fish.” Skipper picked up a stone and tossed it at a rabbit that hopped across their path.
“What did you do then?” The boys were listening intently. Leon’s eyes were bugging with lustful visions.
“There wasn’t anything else I could do. My dick was throbbing by then and I had to get it down before I could go back out front or the guys in the feed store would never let me live it down. Besides my dad was waiting for me, he can be cruel about such things.”
“We’re not going to ask you what you did next. I think we know. In fact, please don’t tell us. It would spoil the illusion.” Carl knew the outcome and he didn’t want to hear it, friend or not.
“Yeah, then Dick Rothchild, from math class, tells me that she’s going with some sports jock from Henderson County. I wouldn’t mind getting back at her somehow.” Skipper shuddered with disgust.
“Don’t think you can, partner. That’s just the way they are. Use you, abuse you then throw you away. Get used to it.”
“So why don’t we plan on meeting there and see if we can find some mischief to get into.” Leon announced.
“That’s a thought. If I don’t find some excitement around here soon, I will have to manufacture some. Skipper came up with an idea. “I’ve got it. You know, I always wanted to get back at old man Whitehall for squealing on us last summer to our parents. You remember when we went swimming in that water hole he claims is his?” Skipper had a smile that would make the devil wonder what he was up to. “Let’s steal one of his calves and turn it loose, say, in the high school?”
“You’re crazy. It’s a great idea, but how are we going to pull it off” Leon usually went along with the other two mainly to be accepted by them. There weren’t other boys in that area his age and Carl and Skipper accepted him with ease.
“No, I’m not crazy, just lots of imagination. I’m in need of some excitement as much as you guys are.” Skipper’s comeback was spontaneous.
“I have to admit this one is one of your craziest. That’s cattle rustling, and the law doesn’t take kindly to that in these parts.” Carl secretly liked the idea but didn’t like what the consequences could be.
“Yeah, but I know we can get away with it. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t. I don’t intend to keep the calf.” Skipper thought he was impervious to authority. “Besides, we’re juveniles and our families would pay to keep it quiet if something went wrong and we did get caught. But it won’t.” Skipper always seems to have an answer.
“So, you are saying we could get caught.” Leon was also on guard.
“Old man Whitehall doesn’t know what he’s got in that herd. He won’t miss one calf. We would walk in with a bucket of grain, rope one and walk right out with it. If we were to get caught, which we won’t, we will simply tell the cops it was a joke on old man Whitehall.”
“I agree old man Whitehall is a nasty old bastard who doesn't give a hoot about anyone but h
imself. He's so nasty he would prosecute us if we were caught out of pure spite. But I have a scholarship on the line. I can’t afford to get in trouble.” Carl found himself torn between loyalty to his friends and his plans for his future. “If I lose that scholarship, I’ll be living on that ranch the rest of my life.”
“I tell you what, we’ll do a dry run tonight to be sure we got the layout and then Friday night will be the real thing. How does that sound?”
Leon had been quiet during most of the plotting. “You’re so sure that we can get away with it and I say it's stupid. How are you going to get into the school? My parents won’t be so forgiving if we get caught.”
“Then maybe you should stay home Friday night.” Skipper frowned at Leon and gave him a surly response. “If you want to join us tonight meet right here just before dark we're going to do the dry run. If you still feel the same way after tonight there's no reason for you to show up on Friday night. Anybody can get into that school. I’ve already done it. Just leave it up to me.” Shipper’s confidence was infectious and the others smiled in agreement.
“What if no one finds the calf and it dies?” Carl was genuinely worried. “I don’t think I could live with that.”
“That’s why it has to be Friday night. Saturday everybody will be at the fair and people will be going in and out of the school for supplies and working. I guarantee it. Now stop worrying.”
They went over the plan for that night. When they were sure that they had every angle covered, they went their separate ways until the designated time.
Carl was the only one of the three who would have problems getting out that night. There was no way that he could tell his parents the truth, or even part of the truth. The real reason for their meeting could never be told. That would be just plain stupid. The only thing he could do was to claim a headache and go to his room early. The rest of the family was playing games in the family room. The TV reception in that part of the county was almost nonexistent Internet was for the city people, not Carl’s family. It was an expense that they were not willing to incur. He didn’t have a cell phone. Didn’t really matter; there was no service where he lived.
The moon shone enough to get him to the road leaving their property and show him the direction to their split rail fence. He still had a couple cigarettes left in the pack from the week and decided smoking one now was necessary. It not only kept the mosquitoes at bay, it calmed his nerves and let the other boys know where he was.
First Leon arrived and then Skipper shortly thereafter on his bike. “You couldn’t get the pickup?” Carl was thinking that Skipper would have the pickup so they could do a real practice run.
“Nah, dad had the keys in his pocket. I didn’t have any reason to ask for them that made sense. But I did bring this.” He pulled a six-pack of beer from his backpack. “But come Friday night, he’ll be boozing and will probably stay in town and never know I’m gone. Sorry guys.”
“That beer makes it all better. Let’s have one before we set off on our spy mission.” They each popped a top and squatted down in a ditch beside the road where if a car passed by, they couldn’t be seen. Not much chance of that though, by now, the locals were secure in their houses waiting for the grass to grow.
“Now what do we do?” Leon was shifting from one leg to another. “Without a vehicle, we really can’t do a good mock run.”
“We’ve come this far, lets scope out the property and see what the Whitefield’s do after dark. Find out some things about their habits. That way we can tell if we have anything to worry about.” Playing detective was one of Skipper’s favorite pastimes.
“You are right, we probably should stake out the farmhouse if we are going to do this.” Carl was feeling daring and ready to go along after a few swigs of beer. Leon was losing the built up tension and after the first beer giggled like a little girl.
“Man, don’t you get mouthy now. Stealth is the key here. Your cut off until we are done.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, not a problem. I know what to do.” He turned away from the others dropped his zipper and took a long leak. “Now I’m good to go.” Carl and Skipper looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.
“Don’t screw this up, Leon, or that will be the last beer you get from me.”
Suddenly Leon sobered up, “Man I’ve got your back. Let’s get this over with before the mosquitoes eat us alive!”
The Whitehall’s were having dinner and the cows were still in the pasture. He didn’t bring them into the barn every night.
They peered through the window long enough to see the couple silently eating and decided between the group, that there wasn’t anything else to see. They scoped out the barn, the road leading in and out of the ranch and decided that there were no other hands on the property to interfere with their caper.
“Let’s go. I think we’ve seen enough. I don’t think he’ll give us any trouble.” The others followed. The night bugs were tormenting the three rustlers and they soon gave up their viewing spot. Skipper turned and headed away from the farmhouse.
Then it happened. Something very furry with a cold wet nose nuzzled Leon’s ear. He screamed as if he was being tortured to death. The three of them went straight for the tool shed. They found the door locked so they headed for the woodpile behind it. The floor lights around the barn went on and Mr. Whitehall stood with his shotgun on the porch. He started down the three steps that led away from the porch and to the boys’ horror; he headed straight for the barn. The tool shed was twenty feet away. Mr. Whitehall had a dog but it was so old he was no longer any good as a watchdog and stayed on the porch most of the time. It let out with a half hearted bark and went back to sleep. The boys stayed in their hiding spot for almost twenty minutes with the bugs devouring there exposed skin. Mr. Whitehall did not find anything out of the ordinary and returned to the comfort of his house.
“We’d better stay for a few more minutes to be sure he doesn’t double back on us.” Skipper remarked.
Neither Carl nor Skipper said a word to Leon for the rest of the evening. They knew if one word was spoken, it would be in anger and they weren’t in the mood. They were dirty, tired, smelly, and eaten up with mosquito bites. The beer buzz has long passed and they all just wanted the comfort of their own beds.
The night of the big heist arrived and Skipper found the battery to the pickup dead. His father had not left for town so he tried to use stealth and avoid his questions about his plans. After a few swear words, he grabbed the keys and drove off in the old Ford sedan used as a third vehicle for the ranch and headed for the rendezvous spot. Carl and Leon were there waiting on him. This time Leon swiped a six-pack from his parents’ closet. They would never miss it; they frequently had parties where a lot of beer was consumed.
“What’s this? Where is the pickup?” Carl was furious when he saw the sedan.
“No problem.” Skipper was on adrenalin high. He was the first to down half his contents of the first beer. “The pickup battery was dead and I didn’t want to explain to dad why I needed it. We put the calf in the back seat with Leon, that’s all. ” Leon was not happy with this idea. “I don’t like it. That’s not the way we planned it. Any change spells disaster to me. Maybe we should call it off.”
“This is crazy, guys. We can't go through with this. Too many things could go wrong.” Even Carl was on edge.
“Drink your beer and relax. This doesn’t change a thing. You’re just being wimps. Come on, where is your sense of adventure?” The only one feeling good about the plan was Skipper. The other two were grumbling all the way to the crime scene. The calf was in the pasture where they left it the other night. The herd stayed in the pasture for the night because the pasture was small. The moon was giving them enough light to see the outline of the other cows and stay close to the calf and away from the mother.
“Crap, I just stepped in a pile of shit.�
�� Leon shook his foot. Carl and Leon couldn’t help but laugh. Leon was making a big deal over something that happens all the time to ranchers.
“Suck it up, boy, we’re almost there.” Carl put a rope around the calf’s neck, the calf followed them easily and its' mother never made a sound. When they reached the sedan, they picked up the calf and put it in the back seat of the sedan with Leon as discussed. The calf didn't seem to mind; in fact, it thought Leon was his mother, licking his ear. The other two rustlers took the front seat. So far, so good. They had every reason to believe they were home free.
The moon hid behind a cluster of clouds and it was completely pitch dark by now. The old Ford headed for the highway and on to the high school with their ill-gotten goods. They were so far out of town that here were no cars on the highway.
The beer buzz allowed Skipper to drive and joke about the heist while all of them were feeling safe about their getaway. After driving only a short distance, Skipper looked in his rearview mirror and saw a pair of headlights gaining on them. Before he could blink twice, blue lights flashed. He heard his heart pounding and knew they were in trouble. It was a flawless plan, he thought....except for two unknown variables; none of them knew that the Ford had a taillight out nor that the sheriff was Whitehall’s brother in-law and had a standing dinner engagement at the Whitehall's every Friday night and left for home that night just as the Ford entered the highway.
About the author:
Recently retired office administrator turned artist; a mid life crisis sent her after an art degree. She dabbled in painting, photography and graphic design. She has been writing poetry and short stories since her late twenties. Most of her poetry survived, but her short stories kept evolving. Through study and reading, she now is able to spend the time to improve her craft and share it with an audience. I hope that these stories will please the reader as much as they pleased here to write them.
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