Speaker 1: Plant growing problems by Larry Brown. Jerry Barlow eased the
Speaker 1: sixty seven sportster to the edge of the sand road
Speaker 1: and shut off the motor. He listened closely to the
Speaker 1: silence of the woods. Aside from the voices of a
Speaker 1: few mocking birds and blue jays crouched in the leaves
Speaker 1: of blackjack oak and scrub pine, nothing could be heard
Speaker 1: except the ticking of his hot motor. He got off
Speaker 1: and unstrapped the short handled hoe and the gallon joke
Speaker 1: of liquid plant food from the chrome sissy bar. He
Speaker 1: knew Bacon County, Georgia was a dangerous place to be
Speaker 1: doing what he was doing, but he was sure he
Speaker 1: wouldn't get caught. He lit a cigarette and listened carefully
Speaker 1: for a few more minutes, hearing nothing approaching vehicle, He
Speaker 1: picked up the hoe in the jug and he stepped
Speaker 1: off the road. He had fifteen healthy female plants not
Speaker 1: four hundred yards off the road, and it was time
Speaker 1: to water them and hold the weeds from between the stalks.
Speaker 1: There was a fairly worn trail leading from the road
Speaker 1: beside his bike to a small patch of grass, and
Speaker 1: he didn't look down to see the tracks made by
Speaker 1: somebody's heavily booted feet. He slung the hole over his
Speaker 1: shoulder and walked through the warm august woods, carefully watching
Speaker 1: ahead for snakes. There were rattlesnakes in these woods, and
Speaker 1: some of them were as thick as a man's wrist.
Speaker 1: Ahead of him a few hundred yards, Sheriff of Cecil
Speaker 1: Tailor lay on his enormous gut and wiped away the
Speaker 1: streams of sweat running down under his sunglasses. His cruiser
Speaker 1: was backed up and carefully hidden down the road a piece,
Speaker 1: as it had been for the last three days in
Speaker 1: a row. He could have sent some of his deputies
Speaker 1: to do this job, but he wanted to catch Jerry
Speaker 1: Barlow with the grass himself. He liked to get these
Speaker 1: drug addicts under his thumb, especially when they were bikers
Speaker 1: like Barlow. Sheriff Taylor had carefully estimated the yield on
Speaker 1: these fifteen plants, and by the time fall got here
Speaker 1: and they were fully matured, he was pretty sure he
Speaker 1: could make a really big bundle by selling the stuff
Speaker 1: to his brother in law, who also happened to own
Speaker 1: the finest whiskey still in this part of the state.
Speaker 1: But that wasn't the whole story, not at all. Sheriff
Speaker 1: Taylor knew this particular patch of weed would probably be
Speaker 1: good enough to save back a couple of pounds for
Speaker 1: his own personal stash. He loved the good buzz as
Speaker 1: much as the next man. He watched Jerry Kress the
Speaker 1: last ridge coming into the small clearing where the dirt
Speaker 1: was dark and sandy. He had to hand it to Barlow.
Speaker 1: He picked a very good spot for his weed. The
Speaker 1: soil here was just right, just loose enough for a
Speaker 1: good root system and rich enough to furnish the plants
Speaker 1: with the nutrients they needed. And they're damned sure wouldn't
Speaker 1: be anybody wandering around the rattler's roost in the summertime,
Speaker 1: not unless he wanted a fast, fatal case of snake bite.
Speaker 1: But Barlow had parked his bike in the same spot
Speaker 1: once too often, and Taylor had found his patch. He
Speaker 1: had hoped the Barlow boy wouldn't do anything stupid like
Speaker 1: trying to run or fight. He'd have to hate the
Speaker 1: shoot the shit out of him, because then he wouldn't
Speaker 1: be able to keep the grass for himself. There'd be
Speaker 1: an investigation, and some of those damn Dea boys would
Speaker 1: be in here, and they'd confiscate the grass and keep
Speaker 1: it for themselves, like they always did. But even so,
Speaker 1: he reached back and unholstered the heavy three point fifty
Speaker 1: seven Mark III trooper and assumed the prone firing position
Speaker 1: from his hiding place under the low foliage of a
Speaker 1: small patch of honeysucknes. He was sure Barlow wouldn't see
Speaker 1: him until he was ready for him too. He lay
Speaker 1: back and watched the young man as he eased carefully
Speaker 1: up to the clearing and looked all around. Sheriff Taylor
Speaker 1: chuckled to himself as Jerry laid the hole down and
Speaker 1: began pouring the blue liquid plant food around each plant. Abruptly,
Speaker 1: the fat man hollered here's cecil and laughed out loud
Speaker 1: when Jerry spun to face him. His expression won of
Speaker 1: Shock's surprise. Sheriff Taylor was a pretty sorry old son
Speaker 1: of a bitch, but he had a great sense of humor. Well.
Speaker 1: Jerry was in a low crouch, looking almost as if
Speaker 1: he meant to try to run for it, but he
Speaker 1: stopped when he heard the hammer come back on the
Speaker 1: big pistol now drop. A sweat ran down his nose,
Speaker 1: and hung on the end, suspended in the hot, dusty
Speaker 1: silence between them. I wouldn't try that shit, boy, Taylor said,
Speaker 1: not lest you want the undertaker packing your ass so
Speaker 1: full of cotton about dark Jerry relaxed and eased his
Speaker 1: lanky six foot frame to the ground. He sat cross
Speaker 1: legged and watched the red faced sherp get up off
Speaker 1: the ground, still holding the cannon in front of him.
Speaker 1: You can put the gun away, man, I ain't going nowhere.
Speaker 1: Oh yeah, boy, you ain't going nowhere. The pot bellied
Speaker 1: officer dusted off the front of his pants and shirt,
Speaker 1: but didn't put the gun away. His tone was almost jovial,
Speaker 1: and the speech was well rehearsed. You're definitely going somewhere,
Speaker 1: probably up to Reedsville for a goodly portion of your life,
Speaker 1: either that or out to the farm for a while.
Speaker 1: Jerry knew what he was talking about. The county ran
Speaker 1: a small correction unit for the lesser criminals, a condition
Speaker 1: forced on too many county law enforcement agencies by the
Speaker 1: overcrowding of the prisons and the ever increasing number of felons.
Speaker 1: He'd heard some bad things about that place. He talked
Speaker 1: to a boy who had spent fifteen months out there
Speaker 1: for passing a bad check, and the boy had told
Speaker 1: Jerry he'd leave the country before they'd let him put
Speaker 1: him back in that rat hole. The inmates were forced
Speaker 1: to work twelve hours a day in the truck patches
Speaker 1: raising vegetables, and he told Jerry that most of the
Speaker 1: money from the sale of the produce went right into
Speaker 1: Cecil Taylor's back pocket. The boy also hinted that there
Speaker 1: were some people who went inside and never came back out,
Speaker 1: least not alive. He thought about all this as Taylor
Speaker 1: crossed a small patch of ground between them and stopped
Speaker 1: in front of him. Stand out. The words came up
Speaker 1: from his potgut in a wheeze. He wore a small,
Speaker 1: thin smile on his cruel lips. Jerry stood up slowly
Speaker 1: and waited while Taylor walked in a small circle around him.
Speaker 1: His mind raised as he tried to figure his way
Speaker 1: out of this. The only chance he had was to
Speaker 1: get away right now the sheriff with his fist, or
Speaker 1: get the gun away from him, and if the cop
Speaker 1: ever got him in the jail, it would be all over.
Speaker 1: He didn't even want to think about spending the next
Speaker 1: few years in Reidsville. You fucking bikers think you can
Speaker 1: just do like you please, don't you? Jerry didn't answer,
Speaker 1: he dirty, greasy scum. The words made the blood rush
Speaker 1: up in Jerry's neck, turn his face red. It was
Speaker 1: now or never, and he whirled and through his fist,
Speaker 1: But the fat man had already anticipated that. He stepped
Speaker 1: aside with a practiced motion and let the punch go
Speaker 1: over his shoulder, bringing the barrel of the gun down
Speaker 1: on top of Jerry's skull, and a light flashed inside
Speaker 1: his head and his brain shorted out. He didn't even
Speaker 1: feel it when he hit the ground. He couldn't tell
Speaker 1: how much time had passed when he woke up, but
Speaker 1: the sun hung low on the Blue Georgia's sky. He
Speaker 1: was alone. The mosquitoes had bitting him all over his
Speaker 1: arms and face, and they buzzed around his head in
Speaker 1: a maddening swarm. He couldn't bat him away because his
Speaker 1: wrists were firmly held by a pair of bright chrome handcuffs.
Speaker 1: Jerry jerked him apart, but the cold steel only cut
Speaker 1: into the flesh of his wrist. There was no way
Speaker 1: to break them or get them off. But maybe he
Speaker 1: could make it back to the road. He didn't know
Speaker 1: why the sheriff had left him alone like this, but
Speaker 1: he wasn't about to wait around for him to come back.
Speaker 1: He got up on one knee and almost passed out
Speaker 1: again from the pain throbbing through his head. It felt
Speaker 1: as if somebody had his head between two ball pink hammers,
Speaker 1: batting it back and forth. He had to let several
Speaker 1: minutes pass before he could get to his feet. The
Speaker 1: pounding in his temples sent jolts of agony racing through
Speaker 1: him with every step he took, but he didn't take
Speaker 1: very many. He stopped when he saw Sheriff Taylor blocking
Speaker 1: the trail. The fat man and had been watching him
Speaker 1: all that time, and in his hands he was holding
Speaker 1: a very large diamondback rattler. It was on the end
Speaker 1: of a stick with a wire loop drawn tightly around
Speaker 1: its neck. The bulk of its stick body moved and
Speaker 1: swayed in the air below the head. The fork tongue
Speaker 1: flickered and tested the air. Jerry froze where he stood.
Speaker 1: He was about to be murdered. There was no doubt
Speaker 1: in his mind. Interesting thing about these stakes, the sheriff said,
Speaker 1: you can catch them anytime you want to, And all
Speaker 1: you gotta have is a little piece of garden hose
Speaker 1: and a teaspoon of gas. Just stick the hose down
Speaker 1: his hole and pour in the gas. It runs about
Speaker 1: every time. They'll probably find your body sometime this winter,
Speaker 1: after deer season opens. Wouldn't be nobody around till then. Now.
Speaker 1: I appreciate you leaving me the dope, though, then he
Speaker 1: came after Jerry. Jerry tried to run, but the pain
Speaker 1: was too bad. The fat man was laughing and wheezing
Speaker 1: as he closed in on him. Jerry turned and tried
Speaker 1: to get closer to the road, but he knew he'd
Speaker 1: never make it, not while he was still hurt like this,
Speaker 1: And if the situation hadn't been so deadly, it would
Speaker 1: have been ridiculous. Jerry was running and stumbling and trying
Speaker 1: to jump the clumps of palmetto and sawbriar, and the
Speaker 1: sheriff was whooping and chasing him like a fun loving
Speaker 1: schoolboy after a little girl with pigtails, only there was
Speaker 1: no teacher for Jerry to run to. Taylor was about
Speaker 1: to catch him. Jerry risked one glance behind him, just
Speaker 1: as he got up close to the huge pino and
Speaker 1: he saw an amazing thing happen. Sheriff Taylor was so
Speaker 1: intent on catching Jerry that he forgot about watching the
Speaker 1: handle of the stick, and he got tangled between his
Speaker 1: fat thighs. He tipped and landed face down on his
Speaker 1: flabby belly, and his giles hung slack with horror. As
Speaker 1: he sat up and Jerry duck behind a tree. The
Speaker 1: sheriff squealed at the top of his lungs like a
Speaker 1: stuck pig when he saw the snake hanging from his arm.
Speaker 1: The fangs sunk to the roof of its mouth. The
Speaker 1: jaws were stretched wide, chewing and working and injecting the
Speaker 1: venom deep into his blood stream. He screamed while he
Speaker 1: clawed at the holster with his free hand, blubbering like
Speaker 1: a baby until he got the pistol out, and there
Speaker 1: was a mad panic in his eyes as he looked
Speaker 1: from Jerry to the snake and started begging him for help.
Speaker 1: Oh Jesus, God, help me. He bit me, He bit me. Jey,
Speaker 1: oh God, to some of bitches in my arm. Then
Speaker 1: he cocked the pistol and stuck the muzzle against the
Speaker 1: smooth white scales of the snake's belly, and he blew
Speaker 1: it apart with one thunderous blast. Little pieces of pink
Speaker 1: meat and snake guts splattered against his face, some of
Speaker 1: it landing on his lips, and he laid the gun down,
Speaker 1: and Jerry watched in fascination from behind the tree as
Speaker 1: the sheriff grabbed the pulpy, writhing body and pull the
Speaker 1: head and the fangs out of his arm with an
Speaker 1: awful groan. Clear liquid oozed from the twin punctures on
Speaker 1: his forearm. The holes were red and puffy, and he
Speaker 1: could feel the tingle starting in his fingertips, and he
Speaker 1: screamed for help again. You gotta help me, You gotta
Speaker 1: help me. Please, you gotta cut me. Oh Lord, you
Speaker 1: gotta cut me. And then his voice trailed off to
Speaker 1: a weak whimper as his head sagged down on his chest.
Speaker 1: You throw me that gun, man, Jerry called. He didn't
Speaker 1: intend to step out and help and then get a
Speaker 1: hole blown in him for his trouble. I got a
Speaker 1: knife and I'll cut it, but you gotta throw me
Speaker 1: that gun. Sheriff Taylor was shaking and a rigor went
Speaker 1: through his body. His heart was pounding, and he knew
Speaker 1: each second that passed and each beat of his heart
Speaker 1: would send the venom closer closer to the big muscle.
Speaker 1: But instead of throwing the gun, he snatched it up
Speaker 1: and screamed, you son of a bitch. Jerry duck back
Speaker 1: behind the tree as four deafening blasts rocked the woods
Speaker 1: around him. The soft nosed slugs tore into the trunk
Speaker 1: of the tree, and he pressed his face flat to
Speaker 1: the ground and trembled. A shock after shock ran through
Speaker 1: the wood, and then he heard the dull click of
Speaker 1: the hammer striking on spent cartridges, and he looked up.
Speaker 1: The sheriff's face was a pasty white color, drained of blood,
Speaker 1: and the man realized that he was about to die
Speaker 1: a slow and horrible death hearing these woods where the
Speaker 1: maggots and the buzzards would strip his riding carcass. He
Speaker 1: was crying now, and the pistol fell from his stiff
Speaker 1: fingers and dropped to the dusty ground, And Jerry got
Speaker 1: up immediately and walked toward the fallen man, holding the
Speaker 1: cuffs in front of him. Open them quick, if you
Speaker 1: want me to help you. He knelt in front of
Speaker 1: tailor and the fat man fumbled for the key on
Speaker 1: his belt and his hands were shaking, but he found
Speaker 1: the tiny hole in the cuffs and they clicked open. Yeah,
Speaker 1: cut it, cut it, you gotta cut it quick. Jerry
Speaker 1: dug in his pocket and found his knife, the three
Speaker 1: bladed case that would shave the hair on his legs.
Speaker 1: He didn't waste any time telling Taylor how bad it
Speaker 1: was going to hurt. He just grabbed the sweaty arm
Speaker 1: and made two deep slashing cuts through the fang marks.
Speaker 1: The skin and meat peeled apart like overripe fruit as
Speaker 1: the blade bit deep blood jumped out in two gushing streams,
Speaker 1: but Taylor didn't seem to fill the fiery bite of
Speaker 1: the knife. A look of relief washed across his face. Okay,
Speaker 1: Jerry said, that ought to hold you till you can
Speaker 1: get to the hospital. If you hurry, I don't think
Speaker 1: he hit a vein, or you'd be having a heart
Speaker 1: attack by now. Taylor got to his feet and swayed dizzily,
Speaker 1: and he clutched it with his bloody hands and begged
Speaker 1: him for help. You gotta walk me to my car.
Speaker 1: It sparked right up here about two three hundred yards away.
Speaker 1: Jerry pushed his hands away and backed up. No way, mad,
Speaker 1: I did all I'm gonna do for you. I'm getting
Speaker 1: the hell out of here. You can't leave me. I
Speaker 1: can't make it out. Help me to my car. Jerry
Speaker 1: started to walk away, but he turned back because the
Speaker 1: fat man was crying in the most pitiful voice he
Speaker 1: had ever heard. It was stupid even to consider helping him,
Speaker 1: and as soon as he got to his car, he'd
Speaker 1: get on the radio and call for help, and more
Speaker 1: than likely for some deputies to come after Jerry. One
Speaker 1: part of him said leave him, but he didn't think
Speaker 1: he'd be able to live with himself if he did that.
Speaker 1: He didn't want to be responsible for a man's death,
Speaker 1: even after what had just happened. All he wanted was
Speaker 1: to just get away. Against his better judgment and against
Speaker 1: the nagging little voice of his concent he slipped the
Speaker 1: sheriff's arm around his neck and said, come on. The
Speaker 1: bit and arm was swelling rapidly now. Already the fingers
Speaker 1: were puffed up so bad he could barely move him.
Speaker 1: Which way's your car? Man? Jerry was having a hard
Speaker 1: time holding up the fat man and sweat poured off
Speaker 1: both of them straight up the hill over to the left.
Speaker 1: It's a bunch of pine trees. Jerry staggered under the
Speaker 1: dying man's weight and the pounding pain still racing through
Speaker 1: his head. After five minutes of all out effort, he
Speaker 1: came out on the road below the car, and he
Speaker 1: was so tired he could hardly stand. Taylor sank down
Speaker 1: slowly to his knees, and his arm was turning purple,
Speaker 1: and every vein stood outlined against the skin, and his
Speaker 1: flesh looked as if it was about to burst. I
Speaker 1: can't go no further, he panted. You gotta drive the
Speaker 1: car down down here, give me to a hospital. Keys
Speaker 1: under the seat. Jerry sagged against the tree and looked
Speaker 1: down at them. The sheriff had lost his hat somewhere
Speaker 1: back in the bushes, and his gray hair hung in
Speaker 1: his eyes. The man appeared near death. Jerry closed his
Speaker 1: eyes briefly against the sweat steaming them, and then turned
Speaker 1: and ran in a shuffling, head jarring trot. He almost
Speaker 1: ran past the tan cruiser hidden in a thicket of
Speaker 1: pine trees. The keys were right where the sheriff had
Speaker 1: said they would be Jerry cranked it quickly and then
Speaker 1: pulled out and back down the road until he saw Taylor,
Speaker 1: the sheriff, was sinking fast. Jerry couldn't tell that the
Speaker 1: fat man was watching him carefully from under slitted eyes,
Speaker 1: and he allowed Jerry to pull him to his feet
Speaker 1: and help him under the wheel, And then, with a
Speaker 1: practiced fluid movement, he reached and pulled a double barrel
Speaker 1: shotgun from under the seat. The barrels were so off,
Speaker 1: six inches ahead of the chambers, and the spit dried
Speaker 1: in Jerry's mouth. When he found himself staring into the
Speaker 1: twin black holes, he wondered what it was gonna feel
Speaker 1: like to be shot in the face, And when he
Speaker 1: heard the hammers come back, he knew there would be
Speaker 1: nothing but a roar and then blackness forever. He couldn't
Speaker 1: hold his words back. Is this how you pay me back,
Speaker 1: you fat son of a bitch. You'd have died if
Speaker 1: it hadn't been for me. I should have left your
Speaker 1: fat ass back there on the trail. Taylor's lips and
Speaker 1: face were swollen. Then he couldn't speak plainly. He drooled
Speaker 1: a little. It was hard for him to hold his
Speaker 1: head up straight. Jerry had trouble understanding his words. You
Speaker 1: damn bikers ain't got you, ain't got. Nobody fooled, not me.
Speaker 1: I know, I know. A great pain seized the Sheriff's chest,
Speaker 1: causing him to sag back against the sea. It felt
Speaker 1: like a huge fist holding his heart and squeezing the
Speaker 1: blood out of it. His tongue went up to the
Speaker 1: roof of his mouth, and the barrel swung away from
Speaker 1: Jerry as he fell back, holding his flabby tent with
Speaker 1: a hideous black hand three times its normal size. Jerry
Speaker 1: moved fast without thinking. His foot lashed out and struck
Speaker 1: the shotgun, pushing it up into the air, and it
Speaker 1: went off, both barrels going at the same time, blowing
Speaker 1: a shower of pine cones and needles down through the
Speaker 1: tree limbs. Jerry didn't wait to see anything else. He
Speaker 1: took off running, hearing the car behind him, and he
Speaker 1: didn't stop until he got to his bike. The cruiser
Speaker 1: came roaring out of the dirt road, sliding sideways with
Speaker 1: a madman behind the wheel. The tires were churning and
Speaker 1: bucking across the dusty ground, throwing a curtain of dirt
Speaker 1: and sand into the hot air. Taylor had the transmitter
Speaker 1: off the radio in his puffy hand, howling and screeching
Speaker 1: orders and instructions that were never heard because his fingers
Speaker 1: were too thick to depress the transment button. The Harley
Speaker 1: coughed once and roared to thundering life as Jerry put
Speaker 1: all his weight into the kickstarter. Even over the rumble
Speaker 1: of his own motor, he could hear the carburetor of
Speaker 1: the Plymouth engines sucking in great gusts of air as
Speaker 1: Tailor laid his dying foot into it. Jerry kicked the
Speaker 1: bike into first and he goosed it and popped the
Speaker 1: clutch and laid it over, spinning in a tight circle
Speaker 1: in the sand, the swing arm bouncing and jarn until
Speaker 1: he pulled it back up and flew down the road
Speaker 1: behind the Tan cruiser, eating dust, but determined to see
Speaker 1: the end of it. The car pulled out of sight quickly,
Speaker 1: and then he was riding blind in a cloud of dust,
Speaker 1: and he rode through one hundred yards of it until
Speaker 1: suddenly the clouds stopped in a sharp curve. Jerry's foot
Speaker 1: came down hard on rear brake and he stopped with
Speaker 1: the sound of his motor beating loud in his ear.
Speaker 1: The big Pine tree was still shaking from the impact
Speaker 1: of six thousand pounds of airborne car hitting it at
Speaker 1: sixty miles an hour. Sheriff Taylor was lying part way
Speaker 1: out on the hood in a pool of shattered safety
Speaker 1: glass and he was spewing blood. Miss Jerry spun out
Speaker 1: of the sand and hit the second gear. He laid
Speaker 1: the bike low into the next curve and started picking
Speaker 1: up speed. He glanced over his shoulder and it seemed
Speaker 1: to him that the dead man was waving goodbye with
Speaker 1: his puffy black hand. Okay, I hope you all enjoyed
Speaker 1: that story by Larry Brown. I'm going to start doing
Speaker 1: I'm going to try to start uploading a video every
Speaker 1: Friday and call it Fiction Friday. What I'll try to
Speaker 1: do is get permission from published authors who have published
Speaker 1: works with short stories and share those with you. Some
Speaker 1: of them be monster stories, some of them won't be.
Speaker 1: Some of them just be damn good stories like this one.
Speaker 1: This was a good story. Larry Brown is a was
Speaker 1: a prolific author and well published author. There's just his
Speaker 1: story of how he learned to write is amazing. I've
Speaker 1: never read a short story that he wrote that I
Speaker 1: didn't like. And next week I'm going to do another
Speaker 1: one by Larry Brown for Halloween. It's actually a really
Speaker 1: good ghost story. They're kind of Southern themed. Anyway, I
Speaker 1: think you guys who enjoy fiction will enjoy it. I
Speaker 1: probably won't hit every fiction Friday because I'm no good
Speaker 1: with schedules because I never know. I never know what
Speaker 1: I'm going to do the next day or what's going
Speaker 1: to be asked of me to do the next day
Speaker 1: in my regular job. But anyway, I really appreciate you
Speaker 1: listening to this. I hope you enjoy and I hope
Speaker 1: you appreciate the talent of these writers that I'll try
Speaker 1: to share their stories with you over time. I don't
Speaker 1: know how long this will go. And by the way,
Speaker 1: I did get in contact with Larry Brown's family. Larry
Speaker 1: died back in two thousand and four, so he's not
Speaker 1: alive anymore. But I got in touch with his family
Speaker 1: and they said, yeah, go ahead and do his story,
Speaker 1: and so I actually did two of them. We're going
Speaker 1: to do another one next week. And anyway, I can't
Speaker 1: do copyrighted stuff without permission, A verbal permission is fine
Speaker 1: with me because if it's ever a problem, all I
Speaker 1: have to do is delete the video. But anyway, I
Speaker 1: just want to share with you some really good, well
Speaker 1: written stuff, along with the emails that we get from
Speaker 1: viewers and pretty much everything else we do. So I
Speaker 1: don't know, that's all I wanted to say. I really
Speaker 1: appreciate you listening, and we'll see you guys on the
Speaker 1: next video. Thanks and