A couple hours ago, packed up my pet bunnies and locked down my dogs and door. Dashed for some McDonalds to go visit my mom in rehab…. The walking and pain kind of rehab, not the drug kind.
I walked out in the fucking oven full of cornbread Arkansas air to my goose talking loudly and my neighbor, known as Boogie, huffing and puffing across the yard. My neighbor Boogie is one of those hardworking, friendly redneck Arkansas men who always wears overalls and white t-shirts who is 5-foot tall and has little nubs for teeth and always wears a big ol grin with a little tobacco in the corners and you know your house is safe as long as he lives across the road.
When he introduces himself as Boogie, he does the little fists together to each side, butt shaking motion known internationally and in discotheques as ‘boogying.’
I went ahead and put the rabbits and myself in the Trump car and turned on the AC as he huffed to a stop, telling me with some grand measure of excitement that someone has stolen his push mower he keeps under the front porch. I said ‘NOOOOO’ and put my hand over my mouth in the also well-known gesture of southern lady shock and surprise and bless your pea-pickin’ heart.
He went into some detail about who he thought stole it…. Which would be rather poorly received in today’s political climate… and I told him my Trump car goes a long way towards letting people know they would get their asses shot off at my place.
He goes ‘imma put my Rebel flag up!’
I said ‘Good idea! I’ll put mine up too!’
Fist bump.
Then he says ‘and Imma call the sheriff!’
And I said, ‘I could hang my ‘Fuck Joe Biden flag.’
Another really emphatic fist bump and a little WHOOP.
‘Imma put my shotgun by the door!’
‘I already got a .45 under my pillow.’
Fist bump again… at this point he is sweatin’ and grinnin’ and kinda bouncing up an down on the balls of his feet.
‘Imma put that big dog out in the yard.’
‘Anyone walks in mine will meet six bullies.’
Double fist bump and a little rebel yell.
‘IF’N I SEE ANYONE AT YOUR PLACE WHEN YOU GONE IMMA SHOOT EM IN THE ASS!’
‘Well alright but don’t fuck around and shoot my goddamned goose.’
‘I ain’t gonna shoot that goose.. I LOVE THAT GOOSE. When he says HAWWWW HAWWWW (this sound was accompanied by him miming the goose, wings spread and high steppin’ stomps) i tell the ol lady, ‘Listen Josie, that old goose is callin’ me again…’
When I got back from visiting my mom, the heat was just fuckin’ heavy and damp, and the sky was a dark periwinkle color over the pine trees and fat drops of hot rain falling now and then…
There was a faded, tattered, almost see through stars and bars fluttering in the breeze from his porch… and a couple more, and American flags too, showing up on down the road. His buddies were standing around leaning over the beds of their trucks fooling with dogs and shotguns. I popped the trunk and got my pistols out of the trunk and my extra ammo and brought them in…. Then I went out and hung a metal sign by the road that says ‘you are no longer a trespasser… you are now a target. ‘
Now the whole street has their front windows open, guns in plain sight, porch lights on, and the sky is rumbling and the whole street is watchful and still, because we are prepared for whatever happens next.
