Diary Of A Kudzu Salesman: Survival And Recovery After The Electrical Grid Collapse (Prepper Reconstruction Book 2)

by Ron Foster

  10

  The Blue Plate Special

  “Well enough of this reminiscing about the past” David said to himself as he opened the door to the “EZ on INN” lounge. This shabby place was his office of sorts for horse trading as well as a pub and grub establishment for the townsfolk.

  As his eyes slowly adjusted to the dimly lit saloon he was pleased to see his camp follower Andrew doing some kind of odd job for the bar owner over in the corner.

  “What does that old woman got you doing now son?” David said in a mock whisper to the 14 year old young man who was fiddling with opening a raggedy stained burlap croaker sack with his back turned to the bar.

  “You leave him be over there David; you are the one that keeps him hanging around here pestering me for odd jobs or dragging in some kind of suspicious looking “bush meat” for the grill all the time. I told him next time he brought some skinned and cleaned critter in here to serve up for dinner; I wanted to see the creature’s fury carcass first. I think that boy is selling me rats for cats or cats for possums.” she said scolding the grinning boy.

  “I told Miss B. I was only doing just what she told me, but….” The boy began before Bessie told him to hurry up and tend to his business and get what ever he was selling ready for showing as she mixed David’s drink.

  “See what I mean?” Andrew said before Bessie reminded him not to get her floor dirty and began to ask him did he let the carcasses cool before bringing them in her bar so the parasites and fleas would be off of them.

  When Bessie got on a roll or quizzing you with questions there just was no stopping her and she didn’t listen for an answer anyway.

  “David, dang you, you tell folks around here to bring god knows what in here for the menu and then do no quality control or price dickering yourself, let alone cook them beasties. I tell you what Andrew! That better not be not be some kind of wharf rat you got in there. You have been steadily trying to pass those off as a Muskrat, I know the difference! Don’t be trying to fool me!” Bessie said steadily complaining to the two males giving each other knowing looks and holding their tongues in check for now.

  David had once pranked the bar maid when he had his young friend bring in a Jackalope head (a fake taxidermy product made for tourists that has the antlers of a deer on a rabbits head). We convinced her there was a tiny antelope that lived in the swamp and that they were very rare and tasty. It wasn’t until Boudreaux and David started swapping war stories one day while in their cups that she had finally caught onto this particular sham. In Asia there is such a critter sometimes called a “Dik-Dik” (are miniature antelope the size of a small poodle)that prisoners of war from Japan to Vietnam had sold their captors in interment camps for sometime. The only problem with the rare delicacy they sold to the guards was that it was nothing more than a large rat that was raised off of food scraps in some hidden part of the prison compound.

  Well from then on, Bessie was a bitch about knowing just what kind of beast she was actually having for dinner to the point a brace of skinned squirrels always got a second checking over.

  David was watching Andrew intently because the boy didn’t seem to be having any problem with her fussing and he did sorta wonder himself what was going to be on the menu for the day. That boy had a natural knack for trapping and in addition possessed a wild old redneck country boy’s way of knowing the habits and locations of the animals living in the woodland backyard he had grown up in.

  David had spent a few days with Andrew showing him a few new ways to snare or” strangle and dangle” a food animal with various obscure trap or snare triggers and had let him borrow a book called the “Rural Ranger” to teach him more about the habits of forest life and get better success in his food procurement.

  David had also given the boy a half dozen of his steel “Conibear: body kill #110 size traps to increase his odds of his success on small critters like a muskrat that eluded the boy but Andrew had managed to find a place that was NUTRIA heaven along a old drainage ditch.

  Bessie didn’t have a clue what Nutria was. These giant aquatic rodents had buck teeth like a beaver, reproduced like no tomorrow, reeked havoc on the natural system of things by undermining creek and river banks with their burrowing and besides all that were a very meaty and edible creature. They also had great fur pelts if you knew how to cure and tan them. Boudreaux usually just called them swamp rats even though they were a different kind of rodent entirely.

  David had to soon upgrade the boy’s conibear traps to a larger size in order to handle these behemoths swamp rat critters. By loaning the boy some two twenties and one fifties sized double spring conibears he had to take away from his own personal arsenal of traps that he used to run a trap line with for more common critters like raccoons or big possums.

  Because of this shortfall in preparations and game catching abilities he had struck a deal with Andrew to supply the bar with the “blue plate lunch special” as well as start to learn to tan the furs for a winter hat special he had in mind for his trading post to feature. David had a good seamstress that could sew up the hides for him into several warm articles of clothing.

  Well I guess t didn’t really matter what something was called in regard to what animal meat you were actually eating. You got tired of eating the same thing everyday and lord help you if you looked at your daily dinner as consisting of nothing but rats.

  David had given the young gent Andrew a classic Schrade Old Timer sharp finger” knife as the perfect tool in his edification of being a trapper as well as butcher and fur skinner. This particular knife was ideal for normal skinning chores and butchering purposes .However, it excelled because of its swooping blades belly in making specialized cuts in say filet of nutria that rendered the rat unrecognizable to most folks.

  Same swamp rat, became breast of partridge or deer chops, didn’t matter what you called it. Besides, most folks didn’t know we didn’t have partridge in Alabama; the seasonings were the key to passing off something that it wasn’t, and soon Bessie would be forced to buy her animals already butchered and seasoned once again because Andrew and David were not giving up their secret recipes.

  “Damn that boys got bullfrogs in there” David thought to himself watching the burlap sack occasionally moving about. Well this ought to be interesting!, He WAS doing what Bessie told him about leaving critters in their skins before selling game to her. I think that boy will come up on the short end of the stick though, or in this case, that stick will most likely end up being that wooden spoon she likes to wave at us bar revelers. She is going to be chasing him with that I guarantee you because that country gal ain`t going to be scared of any old green bullfrog Andrew might want to shake at her.” David mused to himself and looked around the bar for to see who else might be amused about the latest episode going on in this honky tonk bar.

  David spied one older man in the shadows sitting to his right at the bar that was wearing a shaved sided buzz cut haircut looking quietly amused by the goings on. Now 10yrs ago that style haircut would have been a common sight, but there weren’t any barbershops in operation these days so he immediately stuck out like a sore thumb to David and caused him to pause and eye him with further scrutiny and suspicion.

  Just as he was about to say something to the man he heard the front door squeak and his worse nemesis the Preacher walked in the bar with one of his snot nosed kid minions who assisted him in tow.

  “Oh hell! Now this day has now gone from bad to worse. What in the hell is the Preacher doing here and who is this old military looking guy sitting on the far side of the bar?” David thought casting a quick glance at the man on the far end that appeared to also have gotten a sour look on his face as the preacher walked in. That’s interesting, he recognizes preacher and appears to dislike him as much as I do. I will have to talk to that guy later.” David thought before giving an obligatory but reserved greeting to his detractor Preacher John.

  “What’s up Parson? Are you out slumming today?” David said a
nd then downed his drink quickly and ordered another, bound and determined to aggravate the parsimonious bastard as much as he could with out being out right hostile.

  “I ain`t the one slumming here and let me remind you sir my title is Reverend.” A miffed Preacher John stated

  “Sure thing preacher man, I forgot. Ok Rev, what makes you darken this den of inequity today? I didn’t think churches took up collections or asked for charity from us bar sinner types,” David said as Bessie sniggered at him from her prop on a bar stool next to the cash box watching the exchange.

  “I have actually come in here today to see you David. That is if you can please keep a civil tongue in your head, or have you remained here too long consuming the devils drink to entertain a rational conversation? The Preacher snarled grumpily, as he was sitting down as close to the front of the bar and just as far away from the line of bar stools as he could.

  “Oh sure Rev, now is this conversation going to be about public service matters or spiritual matters that you wanted to chat about?” David said wearing a smartass grin and then performed with his hand an exaggerated gesture that meant “I am bringing my alcoholic drink with me, whether you like it or not’ as he rose from his barstool and headed to the table the preacher was sitting at.

  “I don’t waste my time preaching to heathens so it’s not spiritual. I need to talk to you in your professional capacity as an Emergency manager David.” Reverend John said pointing at David’s drink like he expected him to put it down as a professional gesture in to have this meeting.

  “Rev I am off duty buddy and you sought me out in a bar, now if you want to talk to my social secretary and meet me at city hall for a formal office meeting well them we will have to talk shop at a different time.” David said immediately resuming his barstool and looking over his drink at what he considered some kind of cult leader.

  “Touché! David! Not to disturb you’re off duty hours but we have a matter to discuss that is most pressing and you may partake as you like.” The sneaky old religious wordsmith stated.

  “In that case we shall resume with our discourse and as a show of my goodwill if you haven’t had lunch yet I will offer you the opportunity to break bread and share salt with me.” David said knowing the religious connotation and rules of such a sharing expressed more than just receiving a free lunch.

  “I am not asking anybody for sanctuary or safety in this den of iniquity, the Lord guards and protects me wherever I go.” The preacher began before Andrew who had peeking out the backdoor door of the bar ever since the preacher walked in advised David that the FEMA police were lurking outside in an old jeep not far from the door.

  “You are a bad boy preacher man. What is going on in that pointy little head of yours today that made you think that you needed a police escort?” David said while making the preachers minion change seats just for the hell of it before he sat down.

  “You have seen your way clear to, how should we say? Allow that crazy Cajun and fury old Biker to obtain a certain choice piece of property my congregation desires. I think you refer to the winery in question as the “Vineyard”.’ Preacher John said smirking at David.

  “Hold on now, that piece of property was legally transferred to the present owners without any influence or participation by me...” David began before the choir boy looking minion of the preacher pulled out a stack of papers and began his diatribe.

  “On or around July 14.2022 your associates one Mr. LowBuck Prepper and a Mr. Boudreaux Thibodaux took possession of a Homestead act reclamation property grid 1214 …” Barabbas began in a monotone before David waved him off and began speaking.

  “Look man, I don’t have time for this, is this guy an attorney or just one of those damn deacon devils you got in the tax assessor office talking to me? State your name and association as well as job title BOY!” David said tossing his drink down his throat and ordering another while studying the obviously scared man who was way out of his element.

  “Now David simmer down, no need for anger. He acts as just sort of my secretary and he keeps track of details for me. Now about this property we were discussing.” Preacher John began before David interjected.

  “Look, we will get to that! You’re going to have to answer a question or two for me before this goes any further. Here in the south if a man invites you to dinner you answer his questions about your intentions at a meeting, or you can decline the invitation and hospitality because you know I will soon see you are up to no good” David said looking sternly around the table.

  “No, No! Don’t get us wrong!” the Preacher said putting what he hoped was a reassuring hand on his minions nervous shoulder.

  “We would be more than happy to have lunch with you and we can open up with just a civil discussion about my interest in acquiring the property. David, would that be okay my friend to proceed with?” Preacher said touching David’s forearm in a friendly gesture.

  “We are not friends Preacher, but I don’t mind chewing a biscuit with you if you ain`t up to none of your tricks. Andrew! What’s for lunch?” David said remembering the wiggling burlap bag and thinking some fried frog legs wouldn’t be too bad at all today as long as there was some hot sauce about.

  “That’s right boy! You ain`t got that croaker sack untied yet?” Bessie said moving her bulk off the bar stool and heading in Andrews direction.

  ‘Andrew was not appearing to David to near as happy or as amused as he was looking 10 minutes ago. What in the world was in that bag? Hell might be catfish, they seemed to live forever out of water sometimes, I bet that was it, just a mess of catfish.” David thought and congratulated himself in guessing this new possibility of the bags contents. Could be just one giant Flat head type catfish though, they ain`t all that tasty but they would do for a big dinner if you cooked them right. Might also be a leatherneck or snapping turtle though he acts like he is being careful about something? What DID those movements of that sack look like again?” David thought puzzling out what Andrew had managed to catch and stuff in that bag.

  “He sure had that bag tied awful tight. Could mean a small amount of something big or it could mean a big amount of smalls like crawdads. No noises are coming out of that thing.” David said to himself taking a renewed interest in the daily “guess what’s in the bag game” he and Andrew put everyone through before the menu was disclosed for the day.

  David had not talked to Andrew last night or seen him this morning so he was in as big of a quandary and just as interested as everyone else in the sacks contents about to be revealed.

  “I wonder what the chances are of him having a live duck in there. Can you make a duck not quack? “David didn’t know, but if it could be figured out then Andrew probably had if he was going to play a joke on Bessie.

  Bessie walked to the end of the bar and impatiently grabbed the burlap sack away from Andrew.

  “What you got in here boy?” She said as she poked her fat wrinkled face in the bag for a better look.

  “BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ” everyone heard as she quickly closed the bag and made an attempt to grab the boy’s ear.

  By this time David and crew were way too curious to remain in their seats any longer and had Andrew sufficiently blocked off from the mystery sack and were watching Bessie intently.

  “I ain`t done nothing wrong, I swear! I delivered it for dinner just like you said Miss B. Skin on and un-butchered!” Andrew said as David slowly reached slowly for the sack and took it from Bessie.

  “Is this a joke or is it a real snake that needs minding?” David asked hesitantly, unsure if he needed his knife, gun or boots before he examined its contents.

  “It’s dead enough! “ That snake been dead over an hour. I cut the head off a 6 ft rattlesnake and you know they move around till sundown sometimes.” The boy blurted looking anxious.

  “Asshole! You could have cut the rattle off too. You are a cagey little goomer!” Bessie said seeing the humor in it but not wanting to be the brunt of a joke.

  “I ha
d just recently showed that boy the old button and rubber band routine practical joke thing with an envelope full of supposed rattlesnake eggs so I thought he had that rigged that up. But I sure was stumped how he had make the bag move like that. Good one Andrew but I am going to make you go fishing with LowBuck or Boudreaux for that... or ain`t you got some dirty dishes that need tending too Bessie? “David said reverting to the old military discipline of K.P. (Kitchen Patrol) to pacify Bessie and punish Andrew for the minor infraction. He would get him out of doing much KP later on and go fishing with him himself and laugh about this mischief.