The phone rang very early one Saturday mornin’, way before the rooster crows, and Foxy groaned. It can only mean one thang, she thought as she shuffled in her slippers toward the kitchen to put coffee on, he’s goin’ on ‘nother fishin’. Makin’ coffee, she could hear Mule on the phone with Bubba Lee and they were plannin’ a fishin’ trip. Mule’s voice grew louder with excitement as she heard him talkin’ to his cousin.
Mule glanced at her, covered the microphone on the phone with his hand and said, “Bubba Lee’s gotta brand new fishin’ boat he wants give a try on the lake. This heah boat has dual Evinrude motors and even one of them live-wells to keep the fish ‘live! And, the best thang is, she’s paid fer!”
Accordin’ to Bubba Lee, his boat would hold several folks, so he invited a few of the guys to come along to test it on the water. Bubba Lee also informed them to be sure and bring their beer coolers, ‘cause it was gonna get hot later in the day. The grin Mule was totin’ on his face while he gathered up his fishin’ gear was of pure bliss. If ya hadn’t of known the man better, ya would of thought he’d jus’ won a jackpot from the Stop & Drive quick pick of the day.
In a matter of a few short minutes the man is gone from the house, runnin’ recklessly out the door to his vee-hicle, like a volunteer fireman answering a six alarm fire. Mule plans to fill their old pick-em-up with gas at the Stop & Drive and get his Wolf chewing tobacco too. Then, startin’ the truck, he’s off to the lake, his heart poundin’ with excitement.
Foxy heard Mule fire up his much loved truck and wondered when the rest of the muffler would fall off. She quickly opened the front door, waved goodbye, and then grinned like a small dog passin’ a huge peach seed, when he waved back as he drove away.
She had never seen a man love his chewin’ tobacco and old truck the way he loved his-un, especially his truck. Mule almost cried the mornin’ Ernie Frank blew a huge hole in the back glass of the truck durin’ deer season. Ernie’s gun discharged while they were loadin’ a huge twelve point buck Mule shot onto the rusted bed of the truck. Ernie’s shotgun slipped over, he’d propped it up on one of the empty 55 gallon barrels in the back, and went off when it struck Mule’s ice chest. Lucky for Mule and Ernie, the winder caught the buckshot, and not one of them. All Mule did was get some card board, duck tape, and fix the winder almost as good as new. While it made usin’ the mirror impossible, it was cheaper than buyin’ a brand new used one at Kings Auto Salvage on highway sixty-three.
She wondered how many fish those boys would catch this day and how many she’d end up cleanin’ for supper. Foxy thought a good mess of fish and piping hot hushpuppies would taste pretty good later in the day. She set the breakfast table to rights, washed the dishes, and sank back in her recliner to watch her favorite soaps.
As Foxy sat in the over-stuffed chair, she chuckled as she remembered she used to fuss a mite when she drove the truck, until she got used to the ladies at The Daisy Hill Market whisperin’ behind their hands and gigglin’ at Mule’s winder tape job. Those women didn’t have a thing on her and she eventually spied one of them getting’ out of her car in front of the post office one mornin’. Effie Mae Clark had on a skirt of hot pink and lime green . . . made of duck tape! At first glance it was all Foxy could do to keep from laughin’, but eventually she couldn’t hold it in any longer and broke out laughin’ so hard she almost wet herself. For the rest of the day she walked around with a big grin.
