 |
|
|
Yuh Can’t Talk That Way Out Heah
“Watch out, Jay, you almost stepped in that eek!” yelled Benton, reining Dynamite to a skidding stop in the corral.
“Stepped in what?” Jay checked his brush-scuffed boots then looked at Benton. “You’re crazy, old man. What’cha talking ‘bout anyway?”
Benton patted the black stallion’s sleek neck. “You ‘member that writer feller I rented space in the barn?”
Ray nodded. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Well, he always sat by the open hay door up there with a little typee-writer thingy. Waiting for inspiration to strike, he said. He was always a muttering ‘eek’ and making a chucking motion like he wuz throwing it right down there where you wuz just walking. I know you had to uh stepped in it.”
“Well, eek on you old man. There ain’t nothing here.”
“Whoo-ha! That wuz one crazy dude. I made him haul his freight out’ta here. All that eeking and throwing was scaring the hosses.”
“Wat’cha say a eek was anyway, Old Man.”
“Can’t rightly say. I never knowed anyone squeaked that a-way ‘cept that dude. If I took an educated guess,” Benton looked around to see if there were eavesdroppers, “I’d say unless yuh wore lace on your panties, yuh never would.”
“You saying he did? Wear them lacy things you mentioned?”
“What’cha think I run him off fer? If the only ones that say it is the ones that wear it, and he said it – it don’t take uh rocket scientist to figger it out. I told him to scoot and gave him the boot.”
“Old Man, you ain’t got a brain, one. You can’t rub two quarters together and you run off the only cash money you had coming in? Old Dynamite likes oats in his bin, or ain’t he told yuh?”
Benton pulled a tally book from his pocket and flipped it open. “Ray, that writer feller ain’t paid me in two months. He was long on promise and short on doing. I had a belly full.”
“Well, Old Man, your barn space was only gathering dust. Maybe he coul’da dug post-holes and worked off what he owed you.” Ray laughed, and leaned back against the barn. “That would stimulate a little inspiration. Sooner or later he’d settle his bill.”
“Boy, you listen and yuh listen good. Ain’t no self-respecting man gonna let uh eek speaking freak park in his barn, not even for some folding green.”
“Old Man, you better ride Dynamite on down to the church house come Sunday and have you a little talk with the preacher-man. Seems like you are overdue.”
“Well, yuh might be right. A good preaching never hurt anybody. But, I jes’ know if I showed up, I wouldn’t get Dynamite tied to the hitching post before I heard the preacher. And yuh know, don’cha, what the first thing out’ta his mouth would be when he laid eyes on me?”
Benton stepped out of the saddle. Closing a fist around the saddle-horn, he did a slow knee bend, stretching his legs. “I can’t abide the thought of that man wearing lace.”
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.
|
|
|
