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Serial Stories -- Taking Out the Trash
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......The whiskey bottle fell off the front seat of the old Plymouth Valiant as Jimmy pulled over to the right side of the road. Police lights were flashing in his rear view mirror as he tried to make out the faces on the cops behind him. He unrolled his window and glanced back, then turned and looked that the two plastic garbage bags in the back seat. He poked one of them and the contents squished around inside. At least they weren't leaking.
......"Aw Jimmy, you been drinking Jack again? Whar ya headed at 2am at the speed of lightenin' anyway?" |
Submitted by:
Jenny Hermesmeyer |
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......Jimmy swallowed and looked up out of the corner of his eye. It was a small town, and everyone knew everyone but more imporantly, everyone knew everyone else's business. He knew that tomorrow half the town would know of his escapade and he had to be careful. He gestured towards the backseat and spoke in a low voice.
......"To the dump, Frank. Late night cleaning out the garage, you know, and just had the urge to get rid of some stuff." ......"Well, you shouldn't be drinkin and drivin, you know that. I could take you in you know." Frank scratched his head and hesitated. He pointed to the bags in the backseat. "What's in those bags anyway?" ......Jimmy felt his stomach go sour. This was the last thing he needed. He had planned to dump the bags without interruption. This was a fly in the ointment of his plans. A big fat fly. ......"Some old stuff out the deep freeze that needed to go. Haven't been able to keep up with all the stuff I froze from huntin'. Suppose I should know better, takin more from God's green earth than I can eat, but you know how it is when you're out there and the deer are everywhere. You just can't help yourself." Jimmy smiled up at Frank. "I'm not far from the dump now so if you let me continue on my way I will dispose of this and go home and go to bed like a good boy Frank, and I won't do it again. Promise." ......Frank scratched his huge belly. The buttons on his uniform were straining to hold it together. One more jelly doughnut and the buttons wouldn't be able to handle it. Frank was thinking about what a waste it was to pitch out good venison. ......"You sure it's bad Jimmy? Cause if it's not I would be happy to take it back home and let Mildred fry it up for breakfast tomorrow. No harm no foul, you know what I mean. Why don't you let me take those bags for you?" ......Jimmy's mind was racing, calculating, adding up the potenital consequences of what would happen if Frank ate the contents of these bags. The irony of it all almost made him laugh. He thought for a minute about it and wondered if Frank's wife would really do it. If she did this would be just too much for him to handle but at the same time would also increase the risk factors of discovery. And if he got away with it it would just be the perfect, perfect crime. He debated for a minute. He knew the contents of the bags weren't recongizeable as anything other than filets. ......"You know what Frank, you've got a deal. Let me help you get these into the car and they're all yours. You MUST tell me how it cooks up though. I would suggest grinding it all up immediately for burgers and sausages. You can't go wrong with sausages." ......Frank stepped back as Jimmy opened the door and then leaned back into the car to pull the two hefty bags from the back seat. They made some squishing noises which gave Jimmy the urge to laugh and vomit at the same time. He couldn't believe he was taking a risk like this. It was thrilling and completely unnerving at the same time. But it was too late now. He had to. ......"Aw, Jimmy - thanks. I promise we'll let you know how it goes. You know my Mildred. She can cook up just about anything and I will eat it!" Frank patted his belly. It was obvious that his palate was anything but discerning. If Mildred fried up a set of old tires Frank would probably chew his way through it. ......"Well, Frank, thanks. I promise I won't do this again." Jimmy got back into the car and shut the door. "You know how it is when you get the cleanin bug. Can't rest until you're done." ......Frank gave a deep belly laugh. "Okay Jimmy. You git on home now. Maybe Mildred and I will have you over for dinner this week to show you how delicious this really is. What luck to run into drinkin and drivin really. What dumb luck." ......Jimmy started the car as Frank walked back to his, holding a bag in each hand. He broke into a deep sweat and his hands were slippery on the wheel but he kept going. He wasn't that far from home and he needed a drink, badly. He needed a lot of drinks, because at this point he wasn't sure who was luckier or who was dumber... |
Submitted by:
Jenny Penny |
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