How I Met Your Sheriff For those that have read the book, this will be a game changer. As Brudder Dave never knew this, it never made it into the book.., and it might explain a few things that happened along our adventure.. After Dave hit that oak tree while out riding horses with my father, and we loaded him up in my nitrous-injected Bronco and raced him into Huntsville, we got him into the emergency room to assess the damage. About the time they got him hooked up to the various machines to monitor his vitals, he flat lined. They backed up the John Deere to the window, threw in some jumper cables and hooked him up. After a few cranks, Brudder Dave coughed, burped, farted and came roaring back to life. Once they got him stabilized and things started to settle down, the Doc looked at me and asked who I was. I told the Doc that I was his brother and also the one that brought him in. The Doc said that was great and all, but I shouldnt be in there and it was time for me to leave so that they could continue to pad his hospital bill. After drinking a few beers while fishing, then finding Dave busted up in a pile of metal fence poles at the base of that oak, and the long, adrenalin rushed drive into town, I told the Doc, No problem Doc, cuz I gotta piss! Standing at the urinal in the tile covered, antiseptic smelling hospital bathroom, I pulled out Willy and went at it. Shivers ran up and down my spine as I realized just how bad I had to go. About that time, I heard cowboy boot heels clicking on the tile as another patron walked in. The echo of those boots filled the empty bathroom as this fella seemed to make a bee line right up behind me. Then this fella put an arm up on the little half wall next to my urinal and stood there staring at me. As I looked up, standing before me was an apparition from hell. Dressed in the aforementioned cowboy boots, leather chaps over his Levis, black leather vest with various pieces of chain attached here and there, and wearing prison boss mirrored sunglasses, I thought I was about to have a very bad time. When he took off the sunglasses, I realized that I was face to face with the Man, Sheriff Ralph Francis Baker! Now, up to this point, the only time I had ever met Mr Baker was when Dave and I would bump into him in town, or the few times he got us out of jail after a bar fight. I didnt know how much he knew about me, or, more importantly, how much he knew about how much I knew about him! In mid stream, I sure as heck couldnt stop as the sheriff literally caught me with my dick in my hands. He looked down and said, Damn boy, what do you feed that thing?. Not being one to shy away from verbal repartee, I looked up with a glint in me Irish eyes and said, Virgins!. This seemed to crack the lawmans face, as a smile and a chuckle slowly warmed up his features. Then in an instant, his face went cold, his eyes went back to the cold steel that could turn a man into a statue as he said, How much do you know? Time seemed to stand still as I pondered my choice of answers. How DO you answer such a question? With my brother laying in the vegetable patch with scrambled eggs for brains, Ralph came a runnin to make sure his loose canon didnt go off. And not knowing how bad off Dave was, and IF he was going to be better, Ralph was there for damage control. I could act dumb and say, How much do I know about what?, to which Ralph would know I was a bullshitter and couldnt trust me and I would become a liability. Ralph had family, friends and business partners. Every so often, he would have some liabilities as well..., but they were quickly disposed of due to their short life span. I did not want to be one of Ralphs liabilities. I could be slick and act like I misunderstood the question, and tell him everything that I knew about the accident, but then he would know I was a sneaky bullshitter and even more of a liability. Or worse yet, I could tell the truth and say, I know EVERYTHING.., in which case I knew too much and this liability would indeed have a short life span. I was just glad that I was already standing at the urinal, because I would probably have pissed myself after hearing the question! My father always told me, When in doubt, always stick as close to the truth as possible, as its always easier to change your story after. With this in mind, I shook Willy off, put him back in his nest and fastened my britches back up. I turned and faced him and said, simply, Everything. For what seemed like an eternity, as he pondered the situation, I could envision him thinking about the numerous best practices at his disposal for disposing of my body. I think I picked the right response, because after he thought about it for a few, he relaxed as did I. In an instant, it seemed that we were best buds and knew each other our whole lives. This was one of Ralphs many talents.., he could go from the Grim Reaper to being Uncle Ralphie in an instant, and people were so relieved that they would have diarrhea of the mouth and tell everything. There was not much for me to tell, as I knew the sheriff knew it all anyway. He asked, Can you keep everything going as usual while your brother recovers?. I told the sheriff that I could keep everything going as unusual because, by that time, Brudder Dave was spending his time buying toys and playing Horse Breeder, it was Lindsay and myself that was doing the actual work. When Ralph asked if I would still be able to use Daves Michigan connection to dump the product, I told him that Daves Michigan connection was MY connection and that he likes me better anyway. So, from this point forward, I would meet with Ralph on a regular basis, and would call him to set up the meetings. I asked him, So you want me to call in and say this is Billy Bob and I need to talk to Ralphie??. He just chuckled and said, How bout you use the name William Roberts?. As we didnt want to be seen in Madison County, we would meet at a self storage facility that I kept my hot rods at just south of Berryville. That way, if anybody came upon us, I was just trying to sell Ralph a car. And this continued, even after Brudder Dave got well, until the time came that Ralph and I decided to shut down the Madison County branch (get it?) of Ganja, Inc. So dust off that old copy of your book and reread it...., things might seem a bit clearer...
Posted on: Sat, 30 Nov 2013 18:35:11 +0000
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