by Ron Foster
“I am of the same mind as you on that. I imagine it won’t take very long for someone to be paying that place a visit then. No offense, Dump, but you are looking a little buzzed and I don’t think rolling up on a burglary in progress cross-eyed sounds like such a good idea.” Farley said, studying him.
“I ain’t that drunk, buddy, but you got a point. What time is it anyway? My watch quit a couple weeks ago.” Dump said sounding more sober.
“It’s about four I would say. I got to use the clock in the van to tell because I don’t wear a watch. You got about three maybe four hours until it gets dark, I would say.” Farley said eying the suns’ position.
“We always been damn careful about letting anyone know exactly where Connors lived but there have been more than one or two ladies that got to spend the night there, if you know what I mean. Farley, I am kind of in a bind here and I think you might be able to help me out if you want to. I don’t have anything but this scooter and that van of yours would be handy for what I propose to do, if you’re willing to help.” Truck said scrutinizing the man.
“You wanting me to go to a possible firefight with you and help you tote shit off.” Farley said, eying the big man back.
“Something like that, I don’t expect a problem, though. You see, being a bar bouncer and student of life has kind of given me an insight if you will, on people but I have also been wrong many times. You seem all right though to me, Farley, and if we are talking about doing any kind of gun trade I guess we are going to have to accept each other and the cards fate has dealt to us. I propose that we head towards Connors’ house and grab anything useful. I will tell you now he ain`t got much food, he was never one to eat at home much and we were struggling to call in favors or offer cash for canned goods before his demise. If we could get into that damned safe of his we would have plenty of cash but like I said I don’t have the combination, besides lots of folks would rather have a can of beans these days over a hundred dollar bill so that’s a waste of time and energy for us to even consider breaking into the damn thing even if it were possible. I wouldn’t even know where to start trying to get into that thing without a power drill and we know that isn’t going to happen. In regards to guns for trade you were asking about, I know he had a Mossberg pistol handled 12 gauge next to the door, if it’s still there. It has a few tweaks on it like a heat shield, sidesaddle and a forward charging grip but it’s stock otherwise with a brass bead sight and a regular feed tube. That one I will trade with you for if you will burn your gas, donate some labor and be my backup with a gun on this mission.” Dump said, watching Farley’s eyebrow cock as he contemplated the offer.
“I would say that’s a pretty good deal if I could live to enjoy it. You sure who ever murdered him isn’t there right now after something else? Sometimes the better part of valor is to avoid a fight but then again if there is something worth fighting for I would consider it unless I know whatever son of a bitch might have just stole that same shotgun of his had it pointed at me. They ain`t worth a shit for hunting without a stock but for home defense or sneaking around an empty warehouse they do have their points. What’s he got that thing loaded with?” Farley questioned wondering what he had to possibly face out of that scatter gun.
“Reduced recoil 2 ¾” double ought buck, he didn’t believe in anything less and had no neighbors to worry about with over penetration or distance. The first round in that thing, mind you, is a three inch Remington Express round of No. 4 buck though, more lead, more distance he said cause he didn’t know how far his initial contact down his driveway might be. He was kind of wild if you know what I mean and he thought he might level that thing at somebody past 50 yards away. I told him that was a hip shooting gun not an aiming one but he couldn’t be deterred.” Dump elaborated.
“Is that first round 42 pellet no. 4 or has he got three inch 15 pellet double ought in it?” Farley asked.
“I think it’s number 4, he figured if he sprayed and prayed 42 rounds of .25 caliber that it was dang good to hit something. Oh by the way, if he didn’t give it away, he bought one of them Ruger 10/22 rifles with a 25 round clip in camo for us to plink with. I remember him commenting one time that by the time he emptied the .22 out one round of the no. 4 buck would be the same and I joked with him about that being a poor man’s machine gun because I could empty 6 rounds out of that shotgun I could put 252 rounds of .25 caliber downrange in comparison to hopefully 25 well-placed rounds of .22. In other words I could either make you duck like hell or ventilate a flock of geese into slivers!” Dump said laughing.
“Is that up for trade?” Farley asked with a smile.
“Not for just helping me out with the deal but yea, if it’s still there we can swap something for it, maybe. What do you got to swap for anyway, Farley?” Dump asked speculatively.
“Oh, I got a little bit of stuff but it’s a collective lot. I kind of collected up from everybody, got a little silver, a little food, a little gold, if you know what I mean.” Farley said getting ready to dicker.
“Well, I’ll trade with you but how do we go about setting prices nowadays, for example I wouldn’t give you two cents for a 1965 Mustang with no gas in it but I’d give you $25 for a big can of beans if that’s all you had to trade for. ‘Course I would have a hard time negotiating with you if all I had was $20 dollar bills and no change. I guess price is only based on circumstances now. You want it, I got it and what are you willing to give and what am I willing to take? Is that the name of the game these days?” Dump said reaching for another beer.
“Well like I said that damn cruiser model isn’t worth a damn for hunting and I’m more worried about hunting than somebody breaking into my house right now so I say it needs a price reduction. I say that gun was worth about $300 new before the fall, $225 -$250 in a pawn shop and it isn’t worth a damn if you ain’t got no ammo to go with it, because I ain’t got none. But even if it’s empty, I want it. I’ll go help you for the rounds it should have in it but there’s got to be more ammo around there somewhere.” Farley said, enjoying this trading banter.
“Aw, hell, that damn thing has got two side saddles on it, not just one; it’s got two sidesaddles on it plus what’s in it so that’s eighteen rounds at least. I am not going to charge you for the ammo and I agree with you about empty guns being useless but let me add on the fact that he bought a lot of combo guns that had a certain stocks or extra gun barrels laying around that place and you can make it how you want, if you have a mind to. I tell you what, he had him one of those things we converted one time from a shoulder stock to a pistol grip for the “coolness” factor and I like to never got off the standard stock until I went down to the pawn shop and got in their bin of useless tools and things for a 2 foot long screwdriver.” Dump said, waiting for Farley’s reply.
“Oh yeah, I love those bins $2.99 -9.99 buy everything from electricity meters to Exacto tools. What I have to get me is one of those gigantic pry bar looking things. We had tools but we didn’t have one of those. Anyway, there’s not enough room in the gun cabinets for extra tools and ammo, there should be guns and slings and all kinds of extra crap all over the place.”
“I had me a buddy named Neil one time that took advantage of that situation once when people were selling off those extra shotgun barrels when they bought themselves a combo on Ebay. One time he blessed me with a stock barrel that was brand new. You see a short barrel non-choke 12 guage is made to spread lead pellets at a close range but a modified choke barrel with those high visibility sights and maybe a ramp is made to reach out and touch a duck or a deer at a distance. ‘Course some of those come with what you call a “slugger” barrel that is somewhat rifled for a SABOT round or a Foster rifled slug so that it shoots more like a rifle than a smooth barrel shot gun. Now in my neck of the woods, I never had any call for having to have a slug barrel because I trust my own skills like everybody else that shoots shotguns to put a rifled slug through a smooth bore barrel at 75 yards, because the rifling on the slug comp
ensates for that. But to each his own. In other words, if all you have is a slug barrel to go with it I can’t put a value on it and I’m happy and content to put my trust in a short barrel and the rifling on the slug to compensate. Now a modified choke is another matter. If I feel the need for distance, achieving a tighter pattern of lead going down range is a big plus and I’ll offer you a premium.” Farley said speculating on how to take a weapon made for close range human deterrents versus long range interaction with all animals.
“Well, I won’t charge you extra and I know there’s various kinds of stocks and shotgun barrels from 21 to 28 inches that you can have free range on, but that Ruger 10/22 and all it’s niceties like a 3x9 scope is a different matter.” Dump said making his final offer.
Farley tried to hide his excitement of being able to convert a close range weapon into a long range weapon for free and make it more practical but he could not hide his immediate smile too much from the Dump.
“OK, we’ll go down there but all I got is a .380 pistol and a .22 survival rifle to back you up with. You got a rifle hid around here somewhere besides that Glock pistol you got on your hip?” Farley asked, eying the man.
“Well, it isn’t legal but I got me a 12 gauge single shot Savage in my saddlebags.” Dump said with a grin.
“Sounds like something an old heathen like you would have!” Farley said enjoying his buddy’s resourcefulness.
“Well we ready to go on this mission then, huh? I could ruin their day at a hundred yards and you can splatter them at ten! So we got a deal then, Dump?” Farley said, extending his hand.
“Hey, everybody can hear my scooter coming from a mile off so before we get there I’m going to park it and get in the van with you. Now old man Connors has got a combination lock key pad on the gate, I got the code to it, and I know the batteries are still working to it ‘cause it’s on solar power, so we will know if anybody busted through there or not. There ain`t no way around that gate because it’s got a ditch on each side other than going straight through so them castle gates will either have been breached or not, which is to our advantage. If they are breached, I say we leave the van and walk up and try to figure out how many people are occupying the house and make a decision from there.” Dump said starting to speculate on his plan before Farley objected.
“Hell no, if we get there and somebody already busted that gate that meant they spent some time busting into it and if he’s got all that crap and gear you say, I just as soon leave it alone. Dump, I ain’t no sissy or whatever but like I said, the better part of valor is choosing my damn fights and I choose not to fight things for stuff I don’t really need at the moment. I know he was your buddy and all that and you’d love to go wreak havoc on somebody but we can’t drink so well if we got holes in our bellies, if you know what I mean!” Farley said sounding to Dump truck like he was going to try to crayfish out of a full confrontation.
“I didn’t say we have to do the charge of the Light Brigade up there, I just said we have to take care of it.”….Dump began.
“Hell no! If there’s any kind of confrontation down there we don’t need it, buddy! We ain’t got shit to prove and whatever is there we don’t need that badly. I myself personally, don’t have a damn thing to prove or want from the place if there’s any kind of trouble that comes with it. I like you my friend, but I’m not dying over nothing or getting revenge for your boss that I never met!” Farley said adamantly.
“Aw hell, I thought you were Indian. Isn’t it a good day to die?” Dump said drunkenly belligerent.
“I’ll watch you if you just want a witness to your dumb ass death, what’s the old saying “fools charge in where angels fear to tread.” I am not doing it, I could sit out there and take pot shots at them from a distance without a scope and stir up a hornet’s nest of God knows what, but I don’t need to do that. We can always come back another day. I got lives depending on me, shit we’re eating turtles over there where I’m at and those things have proven smarter than we are. Now a turtle like an ostrich, ain’t the brightest creature in the world but they got two things going for them that you and me might need to consider: they both hide their heads when danger is apparent and although the speed of the two of them differs in getting away from a problem, they both are very adept at it. You ever seen a turtle dive into the water when it thought danger was threatening or a fish to get after? You ever seen an ostrich drop down to make itself small if it had an enemy on the savannah?” Farley asked.
“Man, you ain’t no fun! Ok, point noted. If there is anybody there, we wait, we watch, we fight them another day on our terms.” Dump said.
“Now we can be contradictory and do what in the military was called suppressive aggressive or interdictory fire, hell we used to call it harassment fire just to scare the bejesus out of somebody or pop a cannon off and hoped they moved on. That means you or I pop a cap off at them as long as they are staying anywhere around that place and either let them stay or threaten to attack them as they leave.” Farley said getting into his devious guerilla fighting style that peasants used to take down rulers in history.
“Ok, Dump I got to go home for a few and tell folks that me and you are going off to play for a bit. That should take me about 30 minutes until I get back here, you hang tough for a few and although I know you’re acting fine, lighten up on that beer my friend, we got to go to work.” Farley said, regretting putting his down also.
“No problem, hey why don’t I just follow you and then we go? Where do you live at anyway?” Dump said broaching a question Farley was dreading.
“You know what is a hell of thing, Dump? Here me and you meet up at the end of the world as we knew it, share some beer and I am willing to go play backup in a possible firefight with you in order to get me a shotgun but I ain`t willing to tell you exactly where I am living yet.” Farley said regarding the man.
“Now that is pretty screwed up, Farley, but I guess we really don’t know each other that well. Hell we just met, this is a strange thought to think about, reminds me of a bar fight. You can take a group of strangers all sitting at a bar and us men folk like me and you start sizing each other up and taking sides before we even get to know one another. We will sit there and talk, get drunk, tell personal secrets about our lives, etc. but we never reveal much about where we stay or who we give our phone number to. I understand, Farley, no worries and hurry back.” Dump said wondering himself why it was ok for Farley to go off and carry back Lord knows who with him if he had a mind to steal his scooter or something but for some reason he trusted the man.
“Yea I guess we just keep it as that I “live back that way and you live off over there somewhere” for a little while.” Farley said grinning.
“Well, Connors’ house is back yonder way but you will soon know where that is at. Hey, Farley, you got me at a disadvantage here, you got to haul all that gear and stuff we got to get from Connors back to my place.” Dump said contemplating with a fake “what the hell?” look on his face as he proceeded to twirl the end of his moustache in comical contemplation.
“Dang buddy, that’s right! You are going to have to show me Casa Dump Truck today! Now you got me wondering what kind of a place that you got. I envision a garage and yard full of rusting steel junk that needs to be repurposed for projects.” Farley said with a smile.
“Well, you are partially right, I got a big garage, a three bay affair but I live upstairs over the office. It’s an old cinder block country affair that used to serve as a country auto repair place before they changed the county roads. Ha! It isn’t like my house is a secret from any one; you know what’s painted over the side of the roof?” Dump said chuckling with a devilish grin.
“What?” Farley asked, as curious as can be.
“Both sides of the roof have painted on them “See Dump City!” Truck said with a loud laugh.
Farley about fell out laughing, imagining such a structure and its owner and pegged it right that Dump had a table or two around the place made o
ut of old wooden cable or wire spools.
“You see there are still a lot of old barns and buildings and such around that I have seen in my travels that had that “SEE ROCK CITY” logo painted on them and one day I was watching a Clint Eastwood movie where he made the inhabitants paint the town red before he would help them so I got a bit of a buzz on and a paint brush and decorated the house. That reminds me, don’t drink any moonshine made by a fella called Furley Turnipseed. That has got to be the worst tasting, most mood changing firewater that might yet still be available around here. Come to think about it, how screwed up is it going to be when I introduce the two of you? I can’t even conceive of drinking that rot gut with a Furley and Farley to keep up on names with. I can see it now, when I say hey Furley meaning Farley and vice versa but I can dang sure tell you two apart otherwise. Why I bet I could stick four Farley’s in that mans overalls. I kid you not, that boy has a belly so big that he hasn’t probably seen his feet since he was 14 and a set of ears that looks like a Volkswagen going down the road with both doors open!” Dump said laughing.
