Wherever the Road Leads

Classifieds

I was thumbin’ through the want ads in the Shelby County Tribune when this classified advertisement caught my eye. It said, “Take immediate delivery on this ’57 Chevrolet half-ton pickup truck. Will sell or swap for a hide-a-bed and thirty-five bucks. Call 1-4-0, ring two and ask for Bob.”

I called Bob up on the telephone. He says, “Hello, this is Bob speakin’.”

I says, “Is this here the Bob got the pickup truck for sale?”

He says, “Yeah.”

I says, “Where are ya?”

He says, “Fourteen east on county twelve, turn right on the one lane gravel road. You can park in the yard, beware of the dog, wipe yer feet off, knock three times ‘n bring yer billfold.”

Well I tooled on east on county twelve, turned right on the one lane gravel road, I parked in the yard and a German Sheppard come out’n grabbed onto my leg. Then I knocked three times ‘n wiped my feet. The dog let go an’ the screen door opened and Bob come out ‘n says, “Whadaya want?”

I says, “I come to see yer truck.”

He says, “Foller me…come on, Frank.” Dog’s name is Frank.

Well we all went passed the chicken house through the hog pen and down to the tractor shed and then wound up in back of the barn in a field of cow pies. And settin’ right there in a pool of grease was a half-ton Chevy pickup truck with a nineteen-sixty license plate, a bumper sticker that says ‘Vote for Dick’ and a Brillo box full of rusty parts.

Bob says, “Whadaya think?”

I kicked the tars and then got in the seat, set on a petrified apple core and found a bunch of field mice livin’ in the glove compartment.

He says, “Her shaft is bent and the rear-end leaks. You can fix ‘er quick with an oily rag. Use a nail to start her, I lost the key. Don’t pay no mind to that whirrin’ sound. She’ll use a little oil, but outside of that she’s a cherry.”

I says, “What’ll it take?”

He says, “Whadaya got?”

I says, “Twenty eight dollars and fifteen cents.”

He says, “You got a deal, sign here. I’ll go get the title an’ a can full of gas.”

I put the nail in the slot and fired her up and she coughed and belched up a bunch of smoke. I backed her right through the hog pen into the yard. Frank jumped in and bit my leg, I beat him off with a crowbar. He jumped on out an’ the door fell off and the left front tar went flat.

I jacked it up and patched the tube and Frank tore a piece of my shirt off. Then Bob come out an’ called him off. Says, “You better get on outta here.”

I went left on the one lane gravel road, went fourteen west on county twelve, took two full quarts of forty weight oil just to get her to the Conoco station. I pulled up to the regular pump, then Harold Sykes an’ his kid come out.

Said, “I’ve seen better stuff in a junkyard, where’d you ever get that truck?”

I said, “That’s a long story Harold…

…I was thumbin’ through the want ads in the Shelby County Tribune when this classified advertisement caught my eye. It said take immediate delivery on this ’57 Chevrolet half-ton pickup truck…………….

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