Chapter 2

The winter was slower, but I stayed active. I honestly tried not to stay busy, but alas it was a conspiracy to keep me working. A man approached me about moving some of his pot.

“Tell me something before I even talk to you. How did you know to approach me?” I asked.

“A mutual friend from Forsyth told me to contact you. He said to tell you his phone works fine,” the stranger replied.

“Go back outside and leave your firearms locked in your truck. Leave your cell phone out there as well,” I demanded.

“I don’t think so,” the stranger demanded.

“Then you need to move on,” I said. “Before you do anything stupid, you need to know that this machete will hack your skull in half, if you make any hinky moves.”

“You think you are some kind of bad ass?” he asked.

“That’s not for me to say. But I will kill you, if you make a threatening move,” I explained in a calm voice. “I run a failing landscape business, not a drug store, so move the fuck on. I don’t have time for you.”

“My name is Amos, we will meet again,” he said.

“Looking forward to it,” I said with a smile. “You know warning a man like me, can be a deadly mistake.”

After Amos left, I took several deep breaths. The next morning I took a drive to the Forsyth Farm. I spoke to my friend. The one who had set up the deal with my distributor.

“Michael, why did you start sending other growers to me?” I asked.

“I did it because the distributor refuses to deal with the mountain growers. He will deal with you, but not them. It’s a chance for both of you to make some easy money. Of course you will have to work with them. You can also teach them how to grow your brand of pot,” Michael informed me.

“I’ll think about it,” I said.

“Don’t think too long,” he suggested.

By the time I got back to Sparta, it was headed toward dark. I walked into my house and looked around. Nothing had changed, yet something was different. All the way home I had struggled with the decision that Michael wanted me to make. What he wanted me to decide was obvious. I just wasn’t sure that I wanted that kind of hassle. For the last three years I had worked on keeping a low profile by keeping the business known only to me. If I went the way Michael wanted, then it meant I had to work with others. Growing that way meant being more vulnerable. But growing also meant more power and an easier life. I could set up a fake front for the businesses and still maintain control. It was the only way not to be a victim of my own success. I needed to give it some more thought. I waited three weeks before I made the call to Amos. He lived in a trailer house outside of Boone NC. His trailer house was also not far from the Blue Ridge Parkway.

“I spoke with our friend. He asked me to reconsider doing business with you. Meet me tomorrow at the downtown cafe in West Jefferson at noon. I’ll give you my terms. It is a take it or leave it deal,” I said.

“Just tell me now and save me a long drive,” he demanded.

“Are you working for the cops or just plain stupid?” I asked.

“I ain’t no cop, and I ain’t stupid,” he tried to bluff me.

“Let’s just forget it. You aren’t ready to do business yet,” I demanded.

“Alright the downtown cafe in West Jefferson at noon,” he said.

I just hung up the phone. I left him wondering if I intended to show up or not. Hell I was wondering that myself. I decided to drive into town and get fast food for dinner after that call. Fast food in Sparta meant the Burger King on main street. I went through the drive in window, since I wanted to keep my low profile. I carried my bag of food to the county veterans memorial park. I sat in their parking lot to have my dinner. The burger king burger was excellent as always. If nothing else, it beat the hell out of oatmeal.

I drove back home and stretched my trip wire over the drive. I had rigged the wire across my drive way after Amos’s first visit. I didn’t want any surprise visits from him or anyone else. When the wire was sprung, it released a large bell which would ring at least a couple of times on the way down. I didn’t sleep well anyway the weather was really cold. I woke several time to stoke the fire.

At 6AM when I woke for the last time, I knew I needed to repair the shack but it was a loosing proposition. Since it was on the verge of falling down totally. I had no real ties to it, so I decided to move on to something else. Something that would be warm inside and secure as well. During my drive to Sparta I tried to figure out the kind of place that would work for me. I still had to maintain my low profile life style to remain free. It was my philosophy and I planned to stay with it. Be a native American, I told myself, leave no new footprints upon the land.

Amos met me in the dining area of the down town cafe. It was a place that only a local would have any knowledge of. Anyone else would stand out like a sore thumb. That was exactly like I felt while we had our talk.

“This is how it’s going to be. You are going to send your smartest grower down to my place. He is going to learn to grow the product my way. Make sure you can trust him, because I will deal with no one else after his training. If you fuck me, then you better kill me, because I will damn sure kill you,” I said in a dead cold voice.

I gave him a number for the purchase of his total crop. That was if his people grew my crop and I got it all. I figured he knew better than to try to screw me. Even so I planned to keep my eye on him.

“Have your man show up at my farm on foot. He has to carry a back pack with his clothes and tools only. Absolutely no cell phone or computers, unless you want him to come home inside that back pack.