GreyBeard Dreaming

Sunday, October 6, 2013

 Ya'll Can Go To Hell, I'm going to Texas
Sanford was sitting in the cafe drinking coffee and reading the internet classified ads on his telephone..  It was a pretty day.  The coffee was black as sin and hot as hell, he had a good WiFi signal, and there were a lot of scantily clad young women in the Cafe for his viewing pleasure.    
Hell...he might even have a slice of Apple Pie.  With Ice Cream. He'd have an excuse to stay longer.
Then he saw the ad.  It was an innocent enough looking little thing,  little did he know that it would change his life for ever.
WANTED: GOLD!!. You bring us gold.  Be a modern day prospector. We provide all the equipment.  You do all the work. We each  keep  half the profits. Call Rex Mason at (1-xxx-yyyy)
Huh...very odd.  Imagine that....him, a prospector walking around in the desert with a donkey. Not likely.  Sanford thought about some of the places he'd visited as a child with his Mother's Father.  Gold...yeah probably, but he'd need a jeep....or a helicopter to even get there, much less bring any of it out.
Sanford banished the ad from his mind. He had more important things to consider.  The the middle button on that buxom young waitress's blouse for example.  How much longer could it stand the strain.    He WOULD have that apple pie ala mode after all, he'd sit and watch for a little while.  He'd need  more coffee too, and a Thermos of coffee  to go.
***
Sanford completed his run that day and pulled into the yard.  He parked his truck and walked inside the office. Sanford had a bum leg from the war and walked with a cane. When he opened the door to the office Sanford   found the boss to be there also.  Sanford was always the last one in on Friday's...  This was bad.
"Hello Sanford" said the Boss, not making eye contact.
"Hi Boss, what's up?".  ......real bad,.....the Boss was acting strange.
"I've go bad news" said the Boss....finally looking at Sanford"  I have to let you go.  Here's the money we owe you".
Sanford was shocked.  This came right out of the blue.  No warning at all.  
"Wha...."  
"Sorry.  I got a Pink Slip myself " his Boss said. "Early this morning.  I hung around here till I could tell all you driver's the bad news in person. It ain't right to be notified by a note tacked to the door.  I've had that happen to me.  You're the last one in.  The company has been bought.  The new owners want everyone gone by tonight. You'll have to clean out your truck right now.  I'm sorry but there's no more time.  It's over".
*** 
Sanford had cleaned out his truck and sorted through his stuff.  He'd had to discard a lot of stuff.  He could only keep what would go in the saddle bags of his old motorcycle. He'd borrowed the company pickup for one last run and dropped off everything else that he couldn't use at the Salvation Army overnight drop.
After that he got on his old WWII Indian Motorcycle that he'd inherited from his dad. He snapped his cane into place across the handle bar. He drove to a diner. He needed to do some thinking. Hot coffee would help.
 What was he going to do now he wondered as he tripod-ed into the diner and found a table?  His thoughts kept returning to that stupid classified  ad. It seemed to be stuck in his head.  A meme they called it.  He had a meme in his head.  A Gold Meme.  He could certainly use some gold. The waitress brought him a cup of coffee. 
Sanford tried to ignore the ad but for some damn reason it just wouldn't go away.  Nothing for it.  It seems that he'd have to scratch this itch.   Sanford stirred took a sip of  the coffee.  Too hot.  He sat the full coffee cup on the table.  He sat back made the call on his cell phone.
<ring>
"Ex-centrafugal Engineeing, Donna Speaking.  How may I help you?"
"Uh...about that classified ad?"
"Yes...may I have your name please?"
"Sanford ...."
"Begley..." Donna interrupted.  ".yes Mr. Begley. One moment please.....processing...processing...done.  YES! Mr. Begley.  You are just who Rex and I want.  DOC wants you also.   Please come by the office  and I can bring you up to speed on our new program.  It seems to be just what you are looking for"
"I didn't know I was looking for anything"
"Just so".
"Uh.....I dunno. Doc? Who or what is Doc?"
"I'll see you at 7 PM next wednesday.  Here are the directions to our locale."  
Donna rattled off directions to the E.E. office in Dallas. Sanford barely had time to get his pocket notebook out and start writing.
Please be prompt". she said and hung up.
"Seven PM?  At night?  What was..." but the line was dead.
Sanford was  still sitting there thinking about the phone call when a number of, middle eastern 'youths' barged into  the diner. They were obviously looking for trouble.  One of  young men saw Sanford sitting alone with a cup of coffee...staring into the distance.
The Muslim swaggered up to Sanford's table and picked  up his coffee. Sanford was a bit startled by this invasion of his personal space and leaned back a bit.  The Muslim smirked at Sanford  and drank the coffee. He drained the whole cup.
"Very weak Coffee Infidel" he sneered." just like you are."
Sanford just sat there for a minute as if stunned. Then he slapped the table and stood up.  He leaned over and got in the Muslim Youth's face.
"Dammit Boy...if that ain't the perfect ending to a wonderful day". and Sanford began to rant...waving his hands...almost frothing at the mouth.
"The neighborhood Tom Cats got to fighting all night over female cats,....Right under my bedroom window.  I din't get much sleep last night."
"The alarm clock didn't go off this morning and I woke up late" 
"I ripped my shirt getting dressed....."
" My motorcycle had a flat tire..."
"I got to work late..."
" My accountant called and told me I owed ten thousand dollars in back taxes.".
  "My Ex called and told me SHE was behind on rent and she was moving in with ME."
"I had ANOTHER flat tire.  This time on my truck"
"...and to top if off  my company just got bought out by a bunch of you guys and I lost my JOB!".
Sanford glared at the Muslim who just smirked.
"I couldn't  stand it any more!" Sanford was getting louder.
"I'm  was DONE. Done do you hear?"
" So I just now filled that coffee cup with sleeping pills.  Probably fifty of them, a whole bottle. I was letting them dissolve.  I was going to kill myself"  Sanford was almost shouting and the Muslim was starting to look worried.
"And you....  and YOU!!'....Sanford was almost screaming now...
" And you came along and drank it".   Sanford spoke normally. 
"You drank a whole bottle of sleeping pills!"  Sanford  said conversationally ...and grinned at the thoroughly alarmed Muslim. Sanford leaned closer.
"Buy my company will you!" Sanford spoke in a whisper so only the astonished Muslim could hear.
The Muslim was holding his throat. His eyes were bulging, his  hands were shaking  and he was  looking very alarmed. His friends gathered around him.  They pushed Sanford away from their friend.  They looked at Sanford with a mixture of hate and pleading.
"Stomach pump,..Hospitals two miles that away" Sanford pointed..." turn right at the fire station...go up the hill. Hurry and you might still save him.  Slap his face if he starts acting odd, DON'T let him go to sleep.  Slap him HARD if he even closes his eyes. HURRY! Pick him up and carry him...HURRY NOW. Every minute counts!"
The terrorists wannabe's gathered round their loudly protesting friend.  Some began slapping his face. Others grabbed his legs and shoulder...they picked him up off the floor.  He was kicking and screaming from being repeatedly slapped as they carried him out the door.  That is, they attempted to carry him out the door. They didn't fit very well.  Somehow, in the confusion, his head got bumped repeatedly on the door frame. He was almost unconscious when the finally managed to exit the cafe. His friends slapped him some more.  Some punched him. The door slammed as they left.  The sound of tires squealing was heard as they sped out of the Cafe parking lot. 
Sanford and the other patrons of the Cafe had watched in amazement.  The amazement rapidly turned to amusement. The patrons of the Cafe  were all laughing when the young, battered thug, was tossed into the back seat of a car.
"You all can go to Hell"
Sanford quoted to the departed carload of Muslim thugs. He turned back to his table and left a tip for the waitress.  He waved to the other patrons as he exited the Cafe..
 "I'm going to Texas"
Sanford proceeded to do that very thing.  He paid his bill, walked out the door, got on his motorcycle, and drove off into the dark.   He was headed to Texas.