One problem solved, and another looms ahead. Outside, the Mexicans have drifted over to the nearby fruit stand I parked beside. Darn! I need to remember that Granny ordered me to pick up some Georgia peaches while she and Ellie May are off shopping. So, I start rummaging through the Liberty Snap-On toolbox.
No wire strippers, no circuit tester (blew it up trying to check the electric fence for the goats), and only about a foot of electrical tape. Mental note: buy some tools. I’ve got some heavy-duty 7-wire cable but not enough tape for all the splices. Oh well, I’ll just hook up the lights and turn signals.
Sitting on the pavement in the mid-90s heat, it must be around 110 on the asphalt. I’m stripping wires with a dull kitchen knife, wondering how thorough the lube job really was at Speedco. The dreadlocked fellow who did the service was in the pit for barely three minutes. When I politely asked if he found all the fittings, he just stared at me for about 10 seconds and replied, “Yeah baby, I got ’em.”
After I paid the bill, I noticed everyone in the shop sported dreadlocks. That also explained the faint aroma of burning weeds.
Focus! The sun’s starting to dip, the goats are bleating, the Mexicans are returning, and Granny has been gone for at least two hours—due back any minute. I wrap the twisted wire splices, which look like pencil-size monsters, with two inches of tape. Done! I gather the tools, ladder, rags, and everything back into the bay, wiping grease off my hands as I head toward the fruit stand.
The Mexican gentlemen are now peering into the trailer, all dressed in boots, cowboy hats, and big buckles. One approaches me as I pass by, pulls out a trucker’s wallet with a 2-foot chain, and asks, “Señor, how much for the little brown one?”
Before I can respond, Barney and Goober charge over, hands on their pepper spray, declaring, “Boy, don’t you know you need a permit to peddle livestock in this town?” Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Granny and Ellie May crossing the lot, arms loaded with shopping bags. I mumble something about a cultural misunderstanding and quickly usher them into the bus, fire it up, and ease onto the road.
Granny looks at me with that sweet sarcasm only a wife can muster and says, “Well! What did you do while we were gone, take a nap?” I clamp my jaw shut to avoid answering. Then she heads to the kitchen sink and asks, “Where are the peaches? And WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING WITH MY BEST KITCHEN KNIFE?”
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