The Drug Dealer?

Bug and Danny were  were swapping out a motor from his '79 Ford F250.  Bug's truck was his baby.  Since Danny, our older son was home on leave from the Navy and I was at work he chose this Sunday to do it.

They had the new motor hanging by a heavy chain from the limb of the huge oak tree in our front yard.  He wasn't a back yard mechanic, he was a front yard mechanic.

"Danny, look," he said and pointed at the shinny white Jaguar with New York plates coming up our driveway.  Our driveway was more for trucks than fancy cars.  He was driving very slowly.  He parked the car near the truck.

 Bug, a man of slight build, who has had cancer most of his adult life, was not afraid of anything or anyone.  Danny, on the other hand was tough looking with  muscles on top of muscles, the Navy had made him that way.  They were both wearing those bibbed denim coveralls and were all greasy.  They just looked like ol' hillbillies.

The two men in the Jag got out and walked over to the front of the truck.  They were both very large men.  The driver said, "we're from the Bronx, where's so and so," the previous renters.  He had a threatening tone.

Bug never took his eyes off those two. "Mister, we just moved here.  We don't know those people." He answered them with authority.

"They owe us a lot of money," the driver said.

"What for," Bug asked?  I don't think he was ready for the answer.

"We came all the way down here to pick up our drug money," was his smart answer.

If it's anything Bug hated more than a Northerner it was a Northerner selling drugs.  That was a fact.

"Mister, I told you before I don't know them and I would suggest you get back in that fancy car and git out of here," Bug said.

That guy got real nasty, his tone of voice threatening stated, "___ ___, you don't know who I am!"

Bug hit the ball right back in his court, just a little bit harder.  "Bud, NO, you don't know who I am."  Then he added, "I bet nobody knows you're here."

"No," he answered.

"You're back here on this farm, one way in, and nobody knows you're here.   Nobody will ever find you down here in this swamp.  I'll part that car out in less than a week.  When somebody does come looking they won't find you or that car.  Now, I'm telling you to git the hell out of here.  Take that drug business and ram it."  Of course Danny was standing behind Bug holding a large wrench.

Those men started towards their car.  Bug ran into the house returning with with his 12 gauge persuader.

The driver turned the key about the time Bug fired off a round into the air.  They took off, even though the road was only good for pickups.  They were going pretty good down the driveway and out of sight around the bend at the bottom of the hill.  BUT!

I had been working and now as usual when I hit the driveway I didn't slow down.  I was barreling around the second bend and almost ran head on into the Jaguar.   I slammed on my brakes and stopped.  They stopped also.  I could see the two men inside.  They looked like they were arguing about something.  I was figuring on them backing back to the house since the distance to the house was shorter than for me to back back out of the driveway.  So I motioned for them to back up.

That driver put that car in reverse and backed up faster than anyone I'd ever seen and I followed them back into the front yard.  I pulled around them when I got close to the tree.  About that time, Bug raised his shotgun again.

The driver slammed on his brakes, put the car in drive and flew out our driveway as Bug fired off another round into the air.

THEY NEVER CAME BACK!