Ya Never Know...do Ya?
Copyright© 2015 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 11
I felt for my wallet. It was there ... so was my money, credit cards, and bank debit card. I flicked out 20 bucks and paid tubby.
The Chief nodded at the 17 year old.
"Frank, you fucked her ... you pay."
"Next lesson is double."
"Shit," I said. "20 bucks is cheaper." I flicked out another 20 and headed for my pickup. It was on blocks and all four tires were gone. I looked in the cab ... the radio, tape deck and speakers were ripped out and the bucket seats were gone.
I called home. The insurance agent asked where I was.
"Fort Peck Rez," I said.
"Your policy doesn't cover the Rez," she said.
"Great ... I'm in Nashua ... and it's not on the Rez. The truck is totaled."
"I'm not coming up there ... explain it to me," she said.
"Starting off ... it's on blocks."
"Wheels and tires," she said as I could hear her writing. "Next?"
"The radio, tape player and speakers are torn out ... not unbolted ... ripped out of the dash."
"Big jagged holes in the dash," writing it down as she said it.
"The bucket seats were torn out, seat mounts and deck ... big holes."
"What else?"
"The grill, headlights, all four corner lights, the wood from the box floor, the spare..."
"Stop ... stop ... it's totaled. Find a dealer and call me."
I walked out and noticed an old wrecker hooked up to the engine and the biggest indian I'd ever seen was jerking the engine, trans and transfer case out ... nothing unbolted ... just tore it out. If a wire hung up he cut it ... damn big bowie knife ... looked sharp too.
Well ... if it wasn't totaled before ... it sure was now.
He saw me looking, grinned and waved.