by Ron Foster
“Sure, you go right ahead and have a look around, nothing new to see though since you been in last.” Frazier said looking at him like he expected Farley to keep up the conversation anyway.
“I didn’t think you would, oh yea, the reason I come in today was I need some bar oil for my chainsaw, I saw that you were in the business of cut firewood and figured you might have a jug of it for sale to me instead of these little bottles you got on the shelf? I need some 2 cycle engine oil, also.” Farley said as he was walking down an aisle eying everything left while chatting over the counter.
“A big jug like that might be a little pricy for your tastes; things aren’t what they used to be, you know, that stuff is sort of in high demand.” Mr. Barnett said sliding into his usual price gouging manner that told you that you didn’t have to buy it if you didn’t want to, that was his price and he didn’t have in mind lowering it any unless it was in his favor to do so.
“I figured bar oil might be a bit high but I reckoned that it should be cheaper buying in bulk or bigger quantity just as it has always been since the crap hit the fan. That item will be more than plentiful enough you know and demand is going to slack off, I imagine. Won’t be any need for folks to be buying it because people just won’t have the gas to run a chainsaw anymore, unfortunately.” Farley countered.
“Well, seeing that you put it that way, maybe it should be more reasonable then. You might be just right that it will be sitting on the shelf longer than I thought it was going to. I tell you what; I will make you a onetime special good deal today on both of them items that you wanted.” Barnett said with a crocodile smile that said he hoped Farley had some more of those old silver dimes to trade he had with him last time to trade at a reduced rate of exchange.
“Are you still deciding if you are going to give me two hundred dollars worth of credit on that gun, Frazier? That number sounds fair to me if it sounds fair to you.” The man who was in the back of the store said, freezing Farley in his tracks with a jar of pork rind bait in his hand that he had been examining more closely with feigned interest so as to be able hang around the place and try to pick up on some gossip and conversation.
“You want to agree to that, Mr. Barnett?” Frazier asked while looking down at something holding his interest lying on the back counter out of Farley’s view.
“Yea that’s fine Frazier, go ahead and give him 30 bucks for the extra ammo he offered also.” Barnett said glancing at the parking lot and asking Farley if his boy was with him today.
“Yea, he is out in the car with his momma, hey which one of these catfish stink baits work best to try for blue catfish rather than them mud cats?” Farley asked.
“That boy can come on in anytime he wants to you know, that is if he ain’t holding no grudge. I am sorry like I said for that little misunderstanding you know, just one of them things. I hope he knows we ok, ain`t we buddy?” Mr. Barnett said making sure Farley had tried to patch things up with Becky and Jeremy like he told him to from his last visit.
“Oh yea, we are all just fine and the lady sends her regrets for snapping at you, no worries there. I told him and Becky I wouldn’t be in here long; we still got to go help finish picking up friends stuff today and moving them over by us. I just had myself a short list of things I wanted today and needed to ask a question or two, too, if you don’t mind.” Farley said.
“Sure ask away, what did you need to know?” Barnett said hooking his thumbs in his suspenders.
“Last time I was in I noticed you had some ammo for sale but I didn’t know if you had any guns available for purchase.” Farley said walking over to the counter where Frazier was standing.
“We don’t normally stock guns, Farley, we just help a good customer or a friend out once in awhile to make a trade or selling a personal one sometimes. Ammo licenses are one thing and firearm dealer licenses are another if you catch my drift.” Barnett said finally getting off his stool to walk toward where Frazier and Farley were standing.
“Is that one going to be for sale?” Farley asked looking down at an old single action western style Ruger Blackhawk in .357 that was lying on the worn boards in front of Frazier.
“Could be but I ain`t priced it or cleaned it yet. I also like to test fire them, too.” Mr. Barnett said not wanting to name a price on it when the guy that sold it to him was still hanging around the store.
“Can I see it anyway while you’re considering it?” Farley asked Frazier who just reached down and handed it to him with a smile.
“Nice, I always liked these old style pistols. How much is ammo going for today, Frazier? Say on .22 caliber.” Farley said admiring the pistol and aiming it at a far wall to check the sights for any obvious misalignment or defect.
“I don’t have any .22 rounds left except maybe a half dozen small 50 count boxes of lead round-nose standard velocity. I want $16 a box, limit one to the customer.” Barnett said.
“Damn, having a limit reminds me of that stupid Wal-Mart rationing, that stuff was hard enough to find before the collapse. How much is this .357 pistol and some ammo for it?” Farley inquired after the man who had sold the pistol left.
“I want 2 bucks a round and that’s cheap, I only have one box of it though, of 50. I got some .38 you can shoot in that thing also, though. I will take a buck fifty a round for them or .75 cents a round if you don’t mind old military and police surplus.
“Ok, that’s not too pricey, I guess, how much you want for the gun then?” Farley asked, raising one eyebrow.
“Cash or trade?” Barnett said, looking back at him.
“Either or, how much cash you want for it?” Farley asked.
“$500.” Barnett said without batting an eye.
“Damn, Barnett, you are kind of proud of it aren’t you? Those things sell retail new between 500 to full retail $600, I tell you what, I have in mind that I will give you $350 for it and buy whatever you got in stock of that pricy ammo for it.” Farley countered.
“No, I couldn’t do that; I might be able to give it to you for $450 though.” Barnett said after a moment of thought.
“Let me see that old hog leg gun again, well it’s well used, got a tiny bit of holster wear showing on it. Three eighty would be a better price to my mind.” Farley offered.
“No, I think I will have to stick to four fifty. Guns at any price can be considered a good deal these days.” Barnett said casually looking at him.
“What else you got in here for sale today?” Farley asked.
“That’s it, well I take that back, I got an old police model .38 special I will take $300 dollars for, it ain`t much to look at but it shoots and has lots of service left in it. It’s a Smith and Wesson round handle.” Barnett said reaching under the counter and pulling it out for Farley’s inspection.
“I mean this ain`t much to look at, that ugly thing looks like it was carried by a swamp game warden and never cleaned since it was taken out of service.” Farley said making Frazier snicker at his comment as Barnett attempted to wipe off with a rag some of the more obvious grime that was mixed in with tiny flecks of rust.
“Ok now, no more dickering I will take six hundred for the two pistols but that’s my final price Farley, take it or leave it.” Barnett declared.
Farley stared at the two pistols for awhile pondering the deal and finally agreed to the price but he hadn’t decided yet exactly in his own mind just how much cash and barter he wanted to do to trade on them yet.
“Let me look around a minute, Barnett, and see what all else I might need before we settle up accounts. I got the cash on me but I think that I might want to barter some; folding money is hard to come by these days.” Farley said dismissively contemplating how he might better come out ahead in this transaction.
“Oh take your time and have a look around, I will trade with you some maybe, make me an offer when you’re ready.” Barnett said hoping for some more silver coins or bullion.
“Hey I bumped into who maybe might be a friend of yours the ot
her day, said he was a sales rep for I think it was South Bend fishing tackle, he asked me if I wanted to buy a fishing pole.” Farley said chuckling.
“Old guy? Reddish kind of hair?” Barnett asked.
“No, he looked like some kind of oriental. He had a whole truck full of fishing gear he said he would sell.” Farley said nonchalantly.
“Don’t ring a bell, we usually catalog order all our stuff from the warehouse, though. Where did you see him at?” Barnett said looking to Frazier for confirmation that they didn’t know who Farley was talking about.
“Oh down by the turn off to the horseshoe bar, he was parked in their lot and I pulled in hoping the place was open. It wasn’t, the door was busted in and he said he was just parked reading a map and trying to get directions. I showed him roughly where on the map he was and got him turned around. He said he had himself a place on up the cove a bit.” Farley said doing the usual not mentioning this lake had a bunch of coves but not specifying the one you was actually talking about.
“You see him again you be sure to send him my way and maybe I will do some business with him. You would think fish poles wouldn’t sell to folks on the lake but people seem to be wanting to buy them these days along with the rest of the paraphernalia except for them over-priced tournament lures that usually don’t sell no way.” Barnett declared.
“He is lucky Dump Truck didn’t run him off, you be careful around that place, Farley. It might be busted in but the owners are still watching the place, why I don’t know because there is nothing in there to get except maybe some tables or bar napkins.” Frazier said.
“Yea, whoever broke in there evidently didn’t believe the sign Connors put up in the window saying “I took the booze with me, so leave this place alone or get shot.” Barnett said in raspy voice full of mirth.
“I guess not, the door doesn’t have a bit of glass left in it now. They have some two by fours nailed across the opening here and there with a hand drawn “trespassers will be shot and shot again” sign that kind of freaked me out though when I pulled in. That big sign has somebody’s half ass rendition of a skull and cross bones on it also with two bullet holes in it.” Farley said describing how the building was now secured.
“Shit that skull and bones is meaningful. Connors has been known to want to shoot at people before.” Frazier warned.
“Thanks for the heads up guys. I only pulled in there because I saw the fishing supply truck sitting in the lot and hoped that the bar might possibly be open for business like you all were.” Farley declared.
“I would avoid that place entirely if I were you, Farley, just like Frazier said for you to do. However Connors says that he might reopen that place someday again if he can find some more booze. Even if he does you won’t catch me in there with that squirrelly son of a bitch, though.” Barnett said.
“I take it Dump Truck used to be the bouncer there or maybe he will be again?” Farley asked.
“You must have been there before yourself, Farley, do you know old Dump?” Frazier asked.
“No, it’s been several years since I stopped in there during the day time for a beer and I think it was Margaret’s then. I used to go in a Bar in Bessemer and they had themselves a bouncer named Dump Truck so I just put two and two together.” Farley said with a smile.
“He stays back in them woods somewhere over there; he rides an old Harley and has a full beard if you happen to see him. Pretty nice guy most of the time, kind of runs the show and performs everything from doorman to bartender to manager for Connors. Anyway until you see an open sign back on the place, avoid it.” Frazier said.
“Ok, I will try and track down that fishing equipment guy for you. I could go look him up I think. I have a general idea where he was going so I might go have a look see if you were maybe willing to offer a small commission or finder’s fee.” Farley said with a slight grin.
“I might be able to give you something small like $25 for a referral if you want that and he actually shows.” Barnett offered.
“Hell, it might just cost me that much in gas to track him down. Speaking of gas, I got four boat cans full the boys on my end of the lake chipped in for trading purposes, that is if I could find me some guns or chickens for barter or exchange. Barnett, you willing to do some price adjustments or barter for those gas cans?” Farley asked
“You got all the guns I had on hand for trade today, but they come in and out the door fairly regular and I can use all the gas I can get. As for chickens now that’s a specialty item, I know chickens used to be not worth very much but a good laying hen these days is worth more than the meat on the bone, it’s days of eggs or more chickens if you’re lucky but for a can of gas now my friend we might could make us some arrangements.” Barnett said.
“Ok, 4 cans of gas and some cash against guns and chickens, Damn is there something wrong with that statement?” Farley said with a grin enjoying the banter.
“You get that gas by regular trading or by borrowing?” Barnett asked spoiling the moment.
“Told you, me and some friends started us up a little enclave, kind of a screwed up situation if you ask me but we sort of tribed ourselves up and are sharing what we got for the common good amongst us all. We had us 5 boats with gas cans or tanks, 8 cars and we said hell, with a little bit of ingenuity we can fill some gaps with those resources. So everyone got together and pooled their gas resources to possibly trade for some guns or chickens. Who the hell needs a gas sucking 250 Mercury Cruiser these days if you can run a trolling motor and go fishing better?” Farley declared.
“How are you going to charge them engines marine batteries once they go dry?” Frazier asked.
“Oh I always been one of them nuts that thought solar power was cool and have a portable 120 watt set of solar panels that can be used to take care of some of those needs. We have got us a retired fourth grade science teacher living over there that says we can build us some wind turbines, too. We are all going to try to get by this disaster by all rowing in unison, if you know what I mean.” Farley said laying on the BULLSHIT pretty deep.
“Seems like you got yourselves a pretty good plan going, folks sure do need to think more about how to cooperate these days. I wouldn’t mind finding out more about that solar stuff myself, hell if we got anything we have got plenty of sunshine these days.” Frazier exclaimed.
“It is basically simple, hell I can even understand it when that science teacher talks about it. He already did a good thing for them folks over there before the disaster and had a couple people that nominally invested in some 10-15 watt solar panels that can charge a trolling motor or a car battery, my big rig can do the job quicker and better and handle more of a load so we are studying up on how to pump water or fix something to make ice with.” Farley declared and didn’t miss for a second that his standing in this little outpost of commerce had gone up three notches from the time he first came in the store.
“Ice? Seriously? You all got a way to make ice over there?” Barnett said incredulously.
“Well not quite yet, Smitty, that’s the insurance salesman that everybody bitches at cause they bought insurance from him that is pretty worthless now and the fact that he seems to have less than the rest of us when it comes to basic poor man or lake living skills, he has a portable icemaker that doesn’t work any more and I am going to try to either fix it and get it producing again or figure out how many batteries it takes to run one of those on a refrigerator. It’s a huge experiment with half remembered things by me and the truth is I don’t remember much when it comes to electronics math. The schoolteacher is trying to figure it out for me but we will get it done one day.” Farley declared enjoying the fix it or invent it talk all men sometimes enjoy.
“If you ever manage to get ice then you sure got yourself something special there, boy.” Barnett told Farley.
“Don’t you know it? Hopefully it wont be too long until I get it all worked out. Ha! I bet you lower your price on beer to me if I could trade you back with c
old ones!” Farley said laughing.
“How much ice can one of them things, I think you said a portable maker, produce in a day, Farley?” Frazier asked and for once since the first time Farley had seen him put his rifle down and forgot about it as he engaged in this conversation.
“That one Smitty has got said it was rated at 30 lbs. of ice per day, so that’s about 3 good bags of ice. We can do it, I figure, because all those boats don’t have to be water ready and just like pooling the gas we are all dedicated to the cause. Everyone agreed the marine batteries off the boats that chipped in on the gas could go towards making us a communal battery bank to try for lights or running water. We plan on just keeping one motor boat up and running and the rest can sit at the docks or run off of trolling motors.” Farley said weaving his elaborate ruse on the fly that he was somehow settled in and living with several lakefront households.
“Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak.”
