Aromas on the Air and Catchers in the Rye…

As I hiked down the sidewalk by the four lane highway adjacent to the old abandoned cotton mill at noon today, the aroma of smoked barbeque was wafting upon the cool, fall air. My stomach grumbled at that tempting smell. I have noticed on my hikes these days a little mobile roadside barbeque stand and it stays quite busy. It certainly smells wonderful as you walk by. I pulled out and surveyed the contents of my wallet trying to decide if a cold Gatorade and an energy bar from the convenience store or a smoked barbeque chicken plate would be a better purchase. I splurged and decided upon the chicken. I walked on over to try my luck and buy a box lunch. All these people buying couldn’t be wrong and they weren’t. It was delicious and well worth the money spent.

Inside the $6.50 barbeque plate was a half of a smoked chicken with two slices of loaf bread, a heaping serving of creamy slaw, a miniscule bag of potato chips, and a small mound of dill pickle slices. I sat in the little park adorned with almost forgotten monuments to men long dead across from the old abandoned cotton mill and ate my plate. The sky was a beautiful pastel blue adorned by wispy cirrus clouds flowing across the fall sky like spilt milk. Four pigeons darted around at my feet cooing softly awaiting a few scraps of bread from me which I threw and they greedily tussled over and consumed.

By the time I had eaten all of that chicken and the plate, I was feeling quite laden and full. It was a long two mile hike home as I had grown terribly sleepy. It was tempting to just take off my Kelty pack, lie down in the grass beside the sidewalk, and take a nap. I am sure I would have been mistaken for dead by passing motorists though and not the sleeping beauty (sarcasm) I was.

As I passed over the creek that runs by Dollar General and the title pawn place, I saw Droopy walking towards me in the distance. I rarely see much of the gang these days. At first, it was good to see him until he opened his mouth that is.

“Man, you ain’t be havin’ five bucks I could borrow to get something to eat?” He asked bypassing all pleasantries in his staccato and stuttering voice.

One thing about the gang is they are all always perpetually broke and need to borrow your money. I am known as an easy mark within this circle of friends. I sighed as I reached into my wallet and handed him three dollars in compromise.

“That will get you two chili burgers or two chili dogs down the road at Sarah Jay’s and a coke,” I replied.

Droopy smiled, thanked me, and patted me on the shoulder.

“Did you hear George is getting out of jail?” He then asked. “He wrote Pookie and told her.”

“Yeah, he wrote me as well. I think I am going to have to be the one that has to go pick him up in Lafayette at the county jail,” I replied. “He is supposed to call me back or write the details.”

“It sure will be good to have that son of a bitch back in town again,” Droopy told me as he grinned furiously.

I agreed with Droopy and politely said good bye to make my way on home. My comfy lazy boy recliner and a nap were calling me earnestly. To my surprise, an animal control police officer’s vehicle was sitting in my driveway and the officer was knocking upon my side door as I walked up my driveway. I hollered out to greet him as he turned to look my way. He walked over to shake my hand.

“Do you have a little wire haired terrier mix?” He asked.

“Yes sir,” I replied. “Her name is Maggie.”

“We’ve had several complaints about it running free though the neighborhood by the old lady down the street with all the cats,” He told me.

“Damn busybody old hag,” I thought to myself angrily. She is a sour puss of an old lady and is always bitching and calling the city and police about her neighbors for various reasons. Her cats roam the neighborhood freely devastating the local fauna daily like little assassins. There is no city ordinance against cats roaming free.

“I will make sure she stays in the fence from now on,” I told him.

“I hated to bother you with something so trivial, but when someone calls in a complaint we have to act on it,” He replied.

“I know,” I replied. “I understand. Thank you for being so nice about it and just giving me a warning and not a ticket.”

We do have a leash law, but it is rarely enforced being a small town. It stemmed from a local elderly lady getting killed by a pit-bull as she walked through her neighborhood a couple of years ago here. Mrs. Pilkington was her name.

The officer shook my hand once again, got in his patrol car, and drove off. I was going to take a nap, but now I am pissed off mad and sleep has left me. Damn old busybody! Maggie is going to go stir crazy in that fence all day and I hate to keep her locked up inside as well only going out for bathroom breaks.