Sheriff Tackey drove by a while ago, eyed me sitting out here on the front porch, drinking, watching the sun going down. I saluted him with Mr. Wild Turkey and yelled out a “howdy.” He acted all casual-like, pretended he didn’t see me.
But I knew he did.
He’s been watching me. He thinks I was the one who did it. I tried to tell him what happened, but him or nobody else believed me. Mayhaps if I’d been in their place, I wouldn’t of either.
Let me tell you how it went down…
Last Sunday morning, Merle and me went hunting down along the slough where the rabbits and skeeters are nigh on the same size. Most folks were in church, but since God had let the cancer take my Lisabeth last year, me and Him had parted company and I’d become real good acquainted with Mr. Wild Turkey. Continue reading “Yon Side of the Canes”