Chapter 1

I was in the hanger cleaning the spray nozzles on the Ag-Cat when Sue called out to me that I had a phone call. That was odd because the only one who would normally call me at that number was Sue and she was there. I cleaned my hands with a rag and went into the trailer, picked up the phone and said, "Hello?" When I heard the voice on the other end I sighed. It was inevitable that she would find me, but I had hoped that it would be another twenty or thirty years before it happened.

"What do you want Sheila?"

It started fourteen years ago when Sheila and I were seniors at Eastern Michigan University. I'd seen her around campus a time or two, but we didn't know each other. It was just after seven in the evening and my Managerial Economics class had just let out and I was on my way to my car. As I was crossing the parking lot I heard a female voice loudly saying:

"No, God damn it, I said no!"

I looked to my left and saw that some guy had a girl pinned against a car and she was trying to get loose.

"No!" she cried.

"Teasing bitch" the guy said.

"Let go of me. I said no damn you, no!"

I walked up to them and said, "I think that she wants you to leave her alone."

"Fuck off asshole."

"Let go of her."

"I told you to get lost fuckface."

"I don't think so" I said as I grabbed his shoulder. He turned toward me and cocked his fist and I kneed him in the balls. He doubled up and I kicked him in the ribs. No Marquis of Queensberry rules for me. I was from the 16^th street "get em down and keep em down" school. He hit the ground and I kicked him a couple of more times and then told the girl that I would keep an eye on him until she was in her car and gone. She looked at me, down at him and then back up at me and then without a word she ran for her car, got in it and peeled out of the parking lot. I looked down at the guy on the ground and said:

"Some times no really means no dude. You should remember that" and then I left him there and went on home.

The next morning when I got out of my nine o'clock I found the girl standing in the hall. She walked up to me and said:

"Hi. I'm Sheila and I wanted to thank you for what you did last night. I'm sorry that I just ran off like I did, but I was pretty shook up and not thinking clearly. So thank you, thank you very much."

I asked her to have coffee with me and we got to know each other over coffee and a Danish. I found out that the guy she was having trouble with was a boyfriend that she had broken up with and who wasn't taking it too well. I found out that she was Marketing major and intended to go into advertising when she graduated. She was the youngest of four kids and the first in her family to attend college. It turned out that I knew her father, not well, but I knew who he was. He was a mechanic at the Ford dealership in Maybe and he had worked on my F-150 a couple of times before I moved from Maybe to Belleville. Then she wanted to know where in Belleville since she was looking at some apartments there.

We killed almost an hour chatting and then she glanced at her watch and said she had a class to get to, but she seemed hesitant to get up so I took the hint and asked her for a date. She smiled and said she would like that and she gave me her phone number and told me that she would be home after six. I called, we had a fun date and that started a relationship that culminated in marriage eleven months later.

We both agreed early on that we were too career driven to want children so I had a vasectomy. Over the next ten years we both worked hard at attaining success in our chosen fields. One of the things that we promised ourselves was that regardless of work loads and other job distractions we would never let them interfere with our love life and our passion for each other. We made love on the average of three times a week and usually more than once. We had a pretty good marriage or at least I thought we did when I compared it to other couples that we knew. Not to say that we didn't have our ups and downs because we did, but we always managed to work through our problems. All in all I was pretty satisfied with my life.

Right up until the day that I found out my wife was a cheating slut.

I had been visiting a client and when we finished our business I decided to swing by the house since I had to go right by it to get back to the office. I thought I'd make myself a sandwich and save myself a trip to the deli that was just across the street from where I worked. My wife's car was in the driveway when I got there and that surprised me. I doubted that she drove home for lunch since it would have been an hour's drive for her round trip. Maybe she wasn't feeling well and had come home sick. Thinking that might be the case and she might be in bed sleeping I was quiet when I entered the house. For a brief second I was sure that was indeed the case as I noticed a trail of clothes on the floor leading to the stairs.

Then I noticed that some of the clothes in that trail were men's clothes. There was a pair of trousers at the bottom of the stairs and I picked them up and took the wallet out of the back pocket. According to the drivers license the pants belonged to Ronald Dawson. I knew who he was. I'd met him at Sheila's office Christmas party.

My first inclination was to charge up the stairs, go into our bedroom and kick some ass and that is what I started to do. I was about half way up the stairs before a voice in the back of my head said:

"Whoa up here hoss; let's think on this a bit."

My marriage was over - that much was a given. I would get some temporary satisfaction out of the havoc I would wreak in the bedroom, but the cold hard facts were that I would get hosed in the divorce that followed. I'd seen it happen to too many of my friends. I wanted a touch of revenge that would last a bit. I went back downstairs and went into the home office we had set up and got the cassette recorder out of the desk. I went up the steps as quietly as I could and moved down the hallway to the bedroom. I stopped just short of the bedroom door, turned on the recorder and set it down right at the edge of the doorway where it would hopefully tape what was taking place on what used to be my bed. As I was doing that I heard the "slap, slap, slap" of flesh meeting flesh and the grunts and groans of two people fucking. I heard the sounds that Sheila makes when she is having an orgasm and seconds later I heard Dawson say:

"I don't think I'll ever get tired of fucking you" and Sheila reply "I don't think I'll ever get tired of letting you."

I went back down the steps with a plan forming in my mind. I went back into our home office and went into the file cabinet where Sheila kept her accounts. One of Sheila's good friends had gone through a divorce and when the dust cleared Julie found out that she had no credit. All the credit was in her husband's name and Julie had a hell of a time getting a credit card. The same thing happened with another girl that Sheila knew when her husband died of a heart attack. Ashley also found out that she had no credit. Sheila decided that wasn't ever going to happen to her so she had three credit cards in her name only.

Like every one who has credit cards she was always receiving "courtesy checks" that she could use to transfer balances from "those high interest accounts" or get ready cash for whatever reason. I ran the ones I got through the shredder, but Sheila kept them until the expiration date on them because "you just never knew what might happen." She kept those checks in her file drawer with her monthly statements. I wrote down the balances on those three accounts and the "cash available" amounts and then I took one of the courtesy checks for each account. I went back to Dawson's trousers, got out his billfold and took all of his credit cards and the money clip from his front pocket. I went back up the stairs and retrieved the tape recorder and left the house.

As I headed for my office I played the tape in the recorder. The recorder had picked up Dawson saying that he didn't think he would ever get enough of fucking Sheila and her reply. The she said:

You can get your fill today. Mike goes to the gym after work every Monday, Wednesday and Friday so he won't be home tonight until nine. You can stay until 7:30.

"Why not until 8:30?"

"Because I need to change the sheets, shower and douche so I can be clean and sweet smiling if Mike wants me tonight."

"Why bother? I'll stay until 8:30 and if he wants to play when he gets home you can tell him you are too tired or that you have a headache and that you will take care of him tomorrow."

"Doesn't work that way. Mike is my hubby and he gets me whenever he wants me. Now, are you going to argue with me and waste time or would you like me to get you ready to go again."

I looked at my watch and saw that it was 12:05. If Dawson stayed until 7:30 that would give me almost seven hours to do what I was going to do.

"Damn lady, I love your mouth as much as I love your pussy."

I heard the sounds of something being sucked and Dawson saying, "Oh yes baby, oh hell yes" as I pulled into the tire store that was down the street from my office. I had them put four new tires on the truck, do an oil change, a transmission and radiator flush and I paid for it with one of Dawson's credit cards.

There was one good thing that would come out of Sheila's cheating on me. I had been dissatisfied with my job for quite some time and I had been flirting with the idea of quitting for a couple of months. Catching Sheila made it easy for me and when I got back to the office I resigned effective immediately. My paychecks were direct deposit into my credit union account so I didn't have to worry about that. I got the few things that I wanted to keep out of my office and went back to get my pick up.

I had two checking accounts - one joint account with Sheila and one in my name only at the credit union. I hit the bank and cleaned out the joint checking and savings account. I cleaned out the safe deposit box and cashed in the two CDs that were in it and took all the jewelry that Sheila kept in the box to a pawn shop and got $600 for it. That should piss Sheila off since it had been appraised for insurance purposes at $9600.

Next stop was the credit union where I deposited the courtesy checks that I had written against the "cash available" balances that her last monthly statements said she had on her credit cards. My next stop was the Wal-Mart Super Center and I bought sleeping bags, air mattresses, propane, Coleman propane lanterns and a Coleman propane camp stove and a couple of large picnic coolers. I stocked up on groceries and then I headed over to Bishop's Toppers and bought a camper shell for the truck. All of it paid for with Dawson's credit cards. Knowing that in 99 times out of 100 clerks don't compare the signatures on the receipts against the signature on the cards I signed my own name to the slips. I figured that if I ended up in court I could say that he loaned me the cards and when I failed to pay him back in a timely manner he got pissed and turned me into the cops. My defense would be:

"Hey! If I was stealing would I have signed my own name?"

Weak maybe, but I thought I could sell it to a jury.

Next I hit a gun store and bought a .22 carbine, a Wingmaster 12 gauge shotgun and a Remington 700 rifle. I paid for them with one of Dawson's cards and then I took them to a pawn shop and got what I could for them. I hit another gun store and bought the same items and found another pawn shop. I kept at it until Dawson's cards were declined and then I tossed them into a trash can and went and checked into a motel.

It was about 10:30 when my cell phone started chirping. The display said that it was Sheila. I didn't answer and the call went to voice mail. I brought the voice mail up and listened as she said:

"It's 10:30 honey. I expected you home an hour ago. Give me a call. Love you."

I sat there and thought about it. If I didn't call or come home she might call the cops and report me missing or call work in the morning and find out that I had quit. I didn't need that. I needed to stick around in the area for a couple of days. It would be at least two days before the credit union would let me draw against the courtesy checks of Sheila's that I had deposited and I figured that I had at least that long before Dawson discovered that his credit cards were missing, called to report them lost and find out he was over limit on all of them. It would take a couple of more days to find out who had signed for it all. I wondered if he would think Sheila's pussy was worth what it had cost him. He had probably already discovered his cash was gone and was no doubt wondering where it had gotten to.

I called home and Sheila picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Hi babe. Didn't you get my message?"

"What message?"

"I called and left a message on the answering machine. We had an emergency come up with one of our customers and I had to fly to Tampa to take care of the problem. I'm going to be gone for at least three days. I hope to be home sometime Saturday."

"Oh shit! I've been sitting here waiting on you. I've been as horny as a goat all day and I planned on giving you quite a workout tonight."

"Sorry sweetie, but it was a case of get to Tampa ASAP or maybe lose the account and it is one of our biggest and most important accounts. I'll take vitamins by the handful so I'll be ready for you when I get home."

"Damn it honey, I miss you already."

"I miss you too 'pooh bear' and I'll get home to you as soon as I can. Love you sweetie. Bye."

As I disconnected I wondered how fast she would be on the phone to Dawson letting him know she would be available for a couple of days. Horny all day and waiting for me - what a crock!

I spent the next day sunning myself around the motel pool and making lists of what I needed. I planned on doing a lot of camping when I left town. I had gotten most of what I needed at Wal-Mart the previous day, but I didn't have the tent I wanted and there were a few other things I wanted to have. That evening I called home to check in with Sheila and I wondered if she was alone as I talked with her or was with Dawson or some other guy. I listened real hard, but didn't hear anything in the background. I told her that I loved her (and the sad part is that I really did) and I listened to her lie as she told me the same thing.

The next day I hit several sporting goods stores, found the tent and most of the other things that I wanted and paid for them with checks written against the credit union account. I spent the rest of the day lying around the motel pool with a road atlas making a list of the places I would like to go and the things that I would like to see. That night I called Sheila and checked in. Told her I would be home late Saturday and she told me that she couldn't wait to see me. We exchanged "I love you"s and I hung up and went out to catch a movie.

The next morning I hit the credit union and asked for my balance and the balance they gave me included the amounts from Sheila's courtesy checks. I left $500 in the account to cover the checks I'd written over the past two days and took the rest in cash and travelers checks. I called Sheila's office and when she answered I hung up. Knowing that she was at work I swung by the house and grabbed everything that I wanted and then I went back to the motel and called and cancelled all of my credit cards - both the ones in my own name and the ones that I had jointly with Sheila. I didn't need to keep one in my name only since from then on I was going to be 'cash only' to make it harder for them to find me. The last thing I did was find a welding shop and have them weld a lock box to the floor of the truck under the rear seat. I put my cash, all $74,600 of it, in the lock box and by noon I was checked out of the motel and on the road heading south and west.

Saturday night I was cruising on I-40 when my cell phone went off. It was Sheila and I ignored it and let it go to voice mail.

"It is 9:15 sweetie and I haven't heard from you. Call me. I love you."

There were three more calls from Sheila that night and I didn't take any of them and I didn't bother listening to the voice mails. I was ready and waiting for her call on Sunday.

"Hello?"

"Where are you sweetie? Why haven't you called?"

"The answer to your first question is fifteen hundred miles away from you and getting farther away every second. The answer to the second question is that I have nothing to say to you."

"I don't understand. What are you saying?"

"Let me see if I can clear things up for you."

I held the cassette recorder to the phone and played everything that I had on the tape of her and her romp with Dawson and then I said:

"Do you understand now?"

I turned the phone off and at the next rest area I pulled in, smashed the phone and tossed it into a trash can.

Over the next two years I picked apples in Washington and Oregon, slung hay bales onto a hay wagon in Kansas, slipped melons in Colorado, picked peaches in Georgia and oranges in Florida. I took any job I could get that paid in cash and with no questions asked. I'd work until I felt the need for a change and then I'd move on.

I was on U.S 280 heading southeast from Columbus, Georgia to Tampa, Florida by way of Albany, Georgia and about twenty minutes out of a town named Dawson when I saw a woman standing by the side of the road next to a Dodge Ram that had the hood up and steam pouring out of it. I stopped to see if she needed any help and she told me that her engine had seized up. There was a tow truck on the way, but what she really needed was to get to the small airfield on the other side of Dawson if I could give her a lift. I told her to get in and we headed into town.

We introduced ourselves and I found out her name was Sue and she ran a crop dusting outfit out of the Dawson airport. She said she hadn't seen me around and I told her that I was just passing through. As we pulled onto the airport she directed me to a house trailer that sat next to a pre-fab metal hanger and as I pulled up to the trailer she said:

"Shit! He's drunk again."

I didn't see anyone so I asked, "Who is drunk?"

"There is no car here and that means Walter isn't here and that means that he is drunk again. Damn that man! He couldn't have picked a worst time to do this to me."

"Do what?"

"I've got to spray four cotton fields today and Walter is the guy who helps me fill my hopper and who prepares the mix for my next flight while I'm out spraying."

She gave me an appraising look and then asked, "Are you in any hurry to get where you are going?"

"No, not really."

"Could I pay you to help me out today?"

"I guess I could help out."

She led me out to the hanger where there was an Ag-Cat and an old Stearman bi-wing. She told me she would be flying the Stearman that day and pointed to the back of the hanger where there was a garden tractor. She told me to get it and meet her on the west side of the hanger. There was a tank mounted on a trailer (she called it a 'bowser') and she pointed to a pallet of five gallon cans.

"That's Malathion and you need to dump five cans of it into the bowser and then pull it over to that 300 hundred gallon kerosene tank. Top off the bowser with the kerosene and then pull it over to the Stearman."

I did what she said and she showed me the fill mark on the spray hopper and I filled the hopper while she did the preflight on the plane. She told me to make myself at home in the trailer, got in the Stearman, cranked it up and taxied out to the runway.

An hour later she was back and we loaded her up and she taxied back out. She made three flights that day and when she got back from the third on we had to clean the spray booms and nozzles and wipe down the fuselage aft of the wings. While I was cleaning the plane she went into the trailer and made some phone calls. When I was done with the plane I went into the trailer and she asked me just how big a hurry I was in to get to Florida.