Country Life, A Skunk, and Jaybird by Wayne McCray (reading rainbow books .txt) 📕

Two armed deputies entered my home taking their professional duties seriously. My arms already lifted and weapons beyond reach. However, I couldn’t help but instigate. “It's about fucking time you guys got here!" I smartly said. "It took you long enough!" Sheriff Pennybaker soon entered. He looked around, removed his cowboy hat, then held it in hand. I noticed a more youthful look from him, revealing a thick silver crew cut and hardened face. The deputies did what they were told, holstered their guns, and returned outside. The sheriff pulled back a chair to plop down. "Hello Jaybird," he greeted. "Say, if you don't mind, let me have a cup of that coffee you like so much and easy on the whiskey, I’m working.”

So I poured him a partial cup. “You can put it back on," talking about his hat. "I don’t mind. This place ain't sacred.”

“I'm good. Should I call for one of those medics? Have one of them come take a look at you?”

“Nah, but thanks for asking. Nothing I can't doctor," then I placed the cup before him. "Here you go.”

My weapons were in his hand, being examined. He commended my choices and caretaking. Soon a deputy returned to whisper something to him. The news given made the sheriff's salt and pepper eyebrows bounce rapidly, making him look at his deputy in disbelief before handing over the guns, and waving him back out. Now whatever he heard changed his overall mood; so much so, his skin darkened pink, his hand ran through his hair, and those blue marbles of his rolled back into his skull. He felt uneasy, finding it somewhat hard to get it out, to say what he had to say, but finally he did.

“Bad news Jaybird, you shot a bunch of white folk."

"Okay."

"How should I say this? Them boys out there who we originally thought were black, aren't. The foul odor fooled us. Plus, they had painted their faces black for disguises. Nobody out there knows them. They do know they don't live around here, based on the ids they had. Still though, lots of folks won't be happy about this. Some might take offense to what you've done.”

“That's fine.” I reminded him. “Let them come."

Sheriff Pennybaker frowned, "I figured you'd say that," then took his last gulp and stood up. "You ready?”

“For what?” I replied, still seated. “Where am I going?”

“Jaybird, come on now? You shot some white boys, so of course you’re coming with me. Anyhow, this place is a crime scene and I rather take the rest of your statement down at the police station while this place gets a good looking over before it's secured. So get up!” I complied, although displeased, but glad I wasn't handcuffed. From out of my busted up house, beyond the flashing lights and first responders, I went and sat in the backseat of a parked black suburban.

“I’m the victim here," I reiterated. "Just to let you know, I shouldn’t go to jail for defending my property and myself. There’re laws for that kind of shit. Even for me. I have rights, too, you know."

“Maybe?" Slamming the door shut. "My advice: Don't fret it," he told me, getting behind his steering wheel. "You've been here before. So you know how it works? Although we're friendly I still have a job to do. Anyhow, thanks for the coffee just in case I don't get a chance to tell you. Also, is it okay if I can I have some? It had a nice flavor and kick too."

"Sure," I replied. "Second cabinet, top shelf, in a bright yellow bag."

"You must’ve changed brands?"

“I did,” I replied. “More proof and stronger coffee.”

Sheriff Pennybaker laughed. Halfway down the gravel road I looked back. “Don't worry Jaybird," he replied, reading my mind. "Your home and property will be fine. I'll make sure of it. Hey, by the way, you do know there's a polecat somewhere on your property? People could barely walk around there without holding their breaths. I'm surprised you hadn't gotten rid of it."

Laughter followed. “Didn't know I had one until today, but I did think about it though," I replied. "Lord knows I did, but I'm glad I hadn't. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be sitting in this backseat right now talking with you.”

“Jaybird, what’re you saying?" looking at my dark face in the rearview mirror. "Now I know you're not saying a skunk saved your black ass?”

“I am. It did just that.”

Text: Wayne McCray
Images: Pigeon Review
Cover: Pigeon Review
Editing: Wayne McCray
Proofreading: Wayne McCray
Layout: Pigeon Review
Publication Date: 08-16-2021

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