A Problem Solved

 

Frank Wilson was what they used to call a drifter, or even a hobo, long ago. He was in his fifties and had never had a real job in his life. Not the kind of job that you get up in the morning for every day. 

It was cold and dark, and he was tired of walking up the two-lane highway heading north away from Joe City. He had walked this road before and he knew who lived where, though most of the inhabitants locally didn’t know him. When he saw the Chee’s long dirt driveway, he had an idea. He decided to walk into the place and see what was there that might be of use to him. Maybe there would be some kind of shelter for the night.

It was plenty dark there. He only heard his own muffled steps in the dust.

He wore a flannel lined denim jacket, jeans and well-worn western boots. He carried a small old backpack. Over his two gray braids he wore a black western hat. In any crowd of men at any country function you would not have particularly noticed him, though we was rather good looking. He was wiry and thin.

To tell the truth Frank was a thief.

There was a dark colored old Honda in the yard, parked at the end of the mobile home. No lights were on in the mobile. There was no dog in the yard to bark at him. The Honda’s doors were not locked. Frank began to feel hopeful.

There are a couple of places people are likely to put their car keys just to hide them a little bit, in the area around the car. One of these is under one of the two front seats. The keys were not in either of these places. Sometimes people will put them up on top of a tire. He checked all four tires. No keys were on the tires. He got into the driver’s seat and sat there for a minute before opening the glovebox. Yep. Jessie had put the keys in there. He was not expecting Frank or anyone like him to come snooping around in the middle of the night.

A Honda starting up doesn’t make a lot of noise. They are quiet usually. So, when Frank started it up and rolled down the dusty driveway no one in the house woke or even rolled over in their sleep. Billy heard, but he had no opinion on the matter. The six hens shifted a little in their sleep. Night resumed its silence.

Beth was the first to awaken the next morning. She stepped quietly out to the small kitchen to start some coffee. She glanced out of the kitchen window. No car waited there in the yard. Unaccountably, it was gone. She had the weird feeling that Jessie must have gone somewhere, but she knew he hadn’t. He was back there in his aunt’s bedroom asleep.

She leaned on the counter for a moment and then went back there to give him the news. Someone had taken their Honda.

Of course, he was upset. It was one of those things that a person can’t really do anything about. He didn’t think it would be wise to get the police involved. After all they were trying to remain off of official radar.

Aunt Julia was disgusted. She said no one had ever come up into her yard and stolen anything ever before. She had always felt safe here, even though she was alone most of the time. She had never even felt the need to lock her door.

So, as the light came up, they sat at the small table in the kitchen, drinking coffee and having some oatmeal. Jessie said “well, Beth, there is one good thing about it. No one can follow the car to us now. It’s gone.”


Since there was nothing to be done about the car but forget it, we decided to spend that day cleaning out the hogan. We wanted to give Aunt Julia back her bed, so we needed to be able to sleep out there.

Sweeping and scrubbing are sweeping and scrubbing. Nothing much to report there. Once the dust was removed, Julia was proven right. The hogan was in pretty good repair. Jessie made a fire in the stove. It worked fine. The smoke went up the chimney just like it was supposed to. It became nice and warm and pleasant inside. But it was dark. Jessie said we would bring a wire out from the house so we could have light. But the next thing to do was buy bedding and maybe a small dresser and probably get a table and two chairs also.

“Let’s call Ben,” said Aunt Julia. “He’ll help. But you will have to fill him in a little bit, you know?”

So, she called her grandson and asked him to come out. Half an hour later he was there in an old Ford pickup.

She was proven right once more, as Ben was a nice guy with an easy smile and an intact sense of humor. We took him somewhat into our confidence, and he was more than willing to play along. Jessie said my name was Linda. I would have to be careful to keep that in mind.

We would have needed help to bring a mattress and box springs out here anyhow. You can’t really carry those things on top of a smallish car.

There is no place to buy furniture in Joseph City, so Ben agreed to drive Jessie out to Winslow to a store there. That was probably better anyhow because no one would notice a couple of guys buying some stuff with cash and connect it in any way to Julia Chee in Joseph City.

They would look for a small dresser also. I thought maybe we could get some of what we needed second hand.

So, I decided to stay with Julia while Ben drove Jessie the 22 miles to Winslow and back with our new stuff. I thought I would like to get to know her better.

Before going into the house, I decided to go look inside the hogan again. I was trying to arrange living there, in my imagination. I wanted to be there and think about it some more.

I pulled the door open and stepped inside. It was shady in there. I wasn’t expecting anything but the stove and Uncle John’s toolbox. However, as I took a couple more steps, I noticed that there was something else. Sitting on her haunches in the gloom was what was apparently the same mountain lion that I had seen on our first day here. We stared at each other, and she rose to her feet and silently padded past me, so close I could have stroked her back, and out the door. I ran to the doorway and looked out. There was no lion in sight.

Link to all of the story so far; They haven't taken my phone yet^.docx