Sweet Hitchhiker Ch. 02

The decision was made to harvest a little early, which turned out to be a good thing, because a couple more fields were found. Nat was a little disappointed with the harvest, but not every year was a banner year. Still managed to net about thirty-five grand off our plots.

We even got a visit from the local sheriff. I remembered him from school, he was a senior the year I was a freshman, and he always seemed to keep a level head. I even voted for him when he ran. I was surprised when he remembered me, glad it was the wrong season, and my green house was empty.

We shot the breeze, and Honey got us a round of tea. While she was gone he changed subjects. "Look, what happens on public federal lands ain't none of my business, but there seems to be a few pot farmers in the area. I have to tell you I don't care, as long as it doesn't bleed over into my county. If you know any of those boys, you might want to tell them next year might not be the best time for a crop. Push comes to shove, I'll bust their ass and not lose sleep over it."

Honey returned with the tea, and he took a few vegetables home to his wife. When Honey offered he grinned. "Ma'am, are you trying to bribe a public official?" Then he laughed, and she loaded him down, giving him two watermelons and three cantalopes, besides the green beans and tomatoes.

"you guys ought to think about doing the local farmers markets. You got three within drivin' distance, and you could make a killin'."

So far, we'd been hauling everything to Asheville, to the commercial market set up by the state. I liked it because we dealt in bulk and didn't have to tie up a lot of time. Honey got all enthused and I figured my Saturdays were shot next year. I got the guys together and told them what the sheriff said. Two were all for not growing the next year, but the other two were hooked on the money.

............................

I was out of school now, with my own part time accounting business I ran from a building on the farm. I mostly did income taxes, but lately I'd been getting a lot of farm business, so I studied up on it. It helped our own farm when I learned what the benefits were.

When the next spring rolled around, we decided to do two small plots, far from or usual grounds, just for Nat. He'd got his own degree, becoming of all things, a history teacher. We had passed on what the sheriff had said, and he kept his visits to a minimum during the growing season.

That year we only made fifteen grand, but by now we were mostly legitmate and making good money from my business and the farm. Buck had added six acres on his place, and we hired neighborhood kids to help us in the summer. The parents were all for it and the kids liked the money. Honey made sure they had cold drinks, snacks, and lunch, and they adored her. It made her 'broody', and when she started hinting I told her to throw her pills away. She cried for an hour.

By now she was fully integrated into the community, and most people forgot she was half black, and they got really upset if a stranger used a slur. When she got pregnant they redecorated the small bedroom as a nursery, and the baby shower included almost everybody in the community. It was a small, rural community and we tended to be a bit clannish at times. We'd talk all the shit we wanted about each other, but let a stranger say something. It got so big they had to hold it in a church auxillary building.

Pregnancy did strange things to Honey's mental balance. Twice I caught her crying and when I asked her why she said it was because she was so happy. After having almost no family life or support, she couldn't get over how loved she was now.

We had a girl, and between Honey, Kim, and her friends she almost never hit the ground. I made sure I got plenty of daddy time, and when I told Honey we needed a couple of more of these, she giggled and said she wanted them spaced about two years apart.

....................................................

After talking about it over the winter, we decided this year would be our last in the pot business. Nat agreed, knowing if it ever got out his career would be over. He'd gotten married, and his wife liked our area, so he had feelers out with the local schools. Both he and his wife were black, and they couldn't get over how kind everyone was to them. I couldn't help thinking everyone knew that were associated with us might have something to do with it.

That spring, Nat gave us a heads up. "Ollie just got out of prison, and he's put the word out he thinks you narced him off. He's made new friends while he was inside, and it's a whole rougher crew than before. He hasn't done anything since he got out, but I thought you should know."

I wasn't really worried. The man could talk shit from 80 miles away, but he was a creature of the urban jungles, and he would be out of his element out here in the sticks. Besides that, he and any crew he could organize would stick out like a sore thumb, and the first time he spoke my name someone would let me know. He had no idea where I was, so I didn't worry much about it.

Nat and Brenda found a house and moved into our town. Brenda was also an accountant, and we were talking about opening a full operation as soon as our summertime adventures were finally over. He and I got into the peach brandy a little too heavily when they found out she was three months pregnant, and the girls laughed, then babied our sore heads and weak stomachs the next day. Honey brought her into our circle, and the Five, as we called ourselves, morphed into the Six. They all knew Nat had been our dealer, and they knew we had been his supplier.

There had been six of us before, but one grower got a little ambitious and grew way more than we considered safe, and when Nat wouldn't handle him he sought out other vendors. He got away with it the first year and made a mint, but got rolled over on by his new partners the next, and ended up in the state prison in Dallas. Much later, it was revealed he spent six months with Ollie, and when they talked about mutual business he mentioned my name, so Ollie knew coming out of prison where I was. He still had about a year to go, but gave Ollie some contacts.

It started out slow, by after a month we knew something was up. There were entirely too many strangers around and our names had come up in conversation. These strangers looked rough, and even though they were in cars for the most part, they had 'biker' written all over them. One of my friends recognized a few tats and called a meeting.

"These guys are part of the Zebras. Odd name, but they're some mean sonsofbitches. They all met in prison, all coming from different gangs, and merged after most of them got out. They get their name because it's about equally black and white membership, and they thought it was funny. No one ever laughed about it more than once. It would seem they're into a little bit of everything, drugs, girls, money laundering, robbery, muscle for heavy hitters, even murder, if the rumors are true. No one knows for sure because the cops never found anybody willin' to testify."

Of the Six, four were veterans and we all had family we could call on. We'd helped people plenty over the years so we felt we could count on them. It became routine to do daily checkins, and if one of us had to go check a field, they had backup that for the most part anyone looking would never see. We found a few footprints, and we redid some booby traps to inflict more than a little pain. We saw a man later on in town, sporting a really dark black eye and walking with a limp. He must have been the one who triggered the deadfall, a oak trunk about ten feet long and two feet around. He's lucky it didn't hurt him worse. He saw me grin and was halfway across the street when somebody grabbed him and pulled him back. I didn't get a good look but it was a big black guy that might have been Ollie.

..........................................................

Then I got a visit from the new Sheriff. Honey got us a glass of tea and went back to the baby. She had just learned to walk and was a handful. We watched as Honey pushed her on the swingset we'd put up, listening to the laughter and shrieks.

"You got a nicve family there, brother."

"I think so. Honey tells me you got a little boy and a newborn girl. Congratulations."

"Thanks. I moved here from Charleston for the slower pace and better weather. Crime is real low, and I make sure it stays that way. Been noticing some strangers lately, and it seems your name is on their lips a lot. Do we have a problem here?"

"Nothing that would concern you professionally. I'll handle it."

"I looked you up. Saw your service record. Then I checked your friends out. Lot of veterans in the group. Nat was a tunnel rat? Proves you never can tell, he looks just like the history teacher he's going to be soon. Consider this a courtesy visit from one veteran to another. Keep it out of the county. If it comes apart, everybody gets arrested, whether you're friends or not. We understand each other?"

"Sure do, Tim. Take some produce home to your family, all right?"

Her grinned for the first time. "Emily gave me a list of what Honey promised her." He left with a backseat full of tomatoes, squash, watermelons, and cantalopes. Honey had made me start taking her to church, which is where she met the Sheriffs' wife. Most of my buddies went as well, after all it was still a small town in the South.

We had a cookout (not a barbeque. Totally different thing in the South) after church, and I told them what Tim had said. It was getting close to harvest time, and we agreed that would be it for most of us. We all had families now and the thought of being dead or in jail didn't really appeal to us.

This year we grew farther away from home than we normally did, still on government land, but off a totally different river. It wasn't actually a river, but a large tributary of the one we normally grew along. We planted a few small patches in our old locations, as a distraction more than anything else. If they were looking here, they wouldn't be looking there. We'd put up a camoflaged dear stand over one field, and kept an overwatch just to see if anyone was paying attention. All three plots got hit the same week, and we recognized a few of the raiders, all Zebras. While they were doing that, we harvested our real fields, moving in late afternoon and loading up at night. One of our guys had an uncle who had old tobacco barns, and we 'leased' one short term. He said if anyone asked he hadn't been around it in a year and had no idea how the pot got there.

...............................................................................

We thought we were through with the Zebras and relaxed a bit. Nat had contacted a man he trusted, who bought everything we had for a very good price. Since it was our last year, we planted a lot more than ever, and my cut was almost a hundred grand, the most we'd ever made. Brenda and I were keeping ourselves awake at night trying to figure out how to bleed the money into legitimate accounts.

The raids had netted the Zebras about thirty pounds of pot. It was worth some money but not nearly the big payday they were expecting, so Ollie came up with a plan. He was going to shake us down, make us pay him to leave us alone. He overplayed his hand, letting his intentions be known earlier than they planned.

Honey had our little girl while I was off dealing with the buyer, so she decided to walk over to Buck's, to see Kim. Kim had become grandma to our baby, and would keep her every time she could get her hands on her. Buck had a soft spot for her as well, judging by the pony he bought her. Shelly would coo and reach for him, and he'd turn to mush. She was two, and I thought the pony a bit much.

There wer two motorcycles in the yard, and Honey immediately pulled back to the barn. She distracted Shelley with the pony, and slipped out the back, coming in through the kitchen door. What she saw chilled her blood. Buck was on the floor out cold, and one big guy had Kim down, pulling at her clothes. Honey didn't think, she acted.

We had a corn crop that year, and the squirrels were wreaking havoc with it, climbing the stalk and eating the ears. Honey took it personally, and declared war. I picked up a little twenty guage shotgun that had been cut down almost to the point of being useless as a hunting weapon, but made an excellent squirrel killer. She would hang them on the pasture fence beside the field, hoping it would discourage them from coming over. Squirrels don't have much of a survival instinct, it would seem, and there would be as many as twenty at any given time hanging there. She started cutting the tails off for a friend who made fishing lures with them. He finally told her to stop because he had a five year supply.

Honey had checked the cornfield before coming over, and had the shotgun dangling from a strap across her back. She immediately pulled the gun around and let the guy trying to get his pants down have a load of bird shot right in his ass. The boom, and the scream, distracted the other biker, who got the other barrel in the crotch. They were rolling around screaming and bleeding while she calmly reloaded.

Buck came to when the shotgun went off and came up madder than hell. When he saw Kim's ripped clothes, he went quiet. Honey told me later it was like all the sounds in the house and yard had been sucked out of existence. He kicked the guy with the ruined crotch in the head, knocking him out. Kim, being an old fashioned woman, grabbed a rolling pin she had been using to roll out the crusts for the pies she was making when she got interrupted, and slammed it into the head of the guy with the raw ass so hard we all heard the crunch. His days of rape and mayhem were permanently over.

Honey and Kim helped Buck load them into the back of his truck. Honey was going with him, but he told her no. "You stay with Kim and tell your husband and I'll handle this. If you don't know you can't say, and besides, a lady shouldn't witness what's going to happen to these assholes."

Three weeks later a fisherman found them in the river, or more correctly, what was left of them. The catfish and carp had been at them pretty good, and when they noticed there was no sexual equipment present, they just assumed the fish ate it. They probably did, after Buck cut it off the still living assholes and tossed them in the creek. He then gutted them, filled the stomach cavity with rocks, and sank them in a deep hole.

The authorities found the birdshot, and the location of the wounds made them believe it was mountian justice gone wrong. Birdshot doesn't leave traceable ballistic evidence, there were no witnesses, no rumors on the streets, so there was no trail to follow. It took them another month to identify them, and when they discovered what kind of people they were dealing with, they didn't pursue it, privately thinking it was good riddance to bad people.Tim came to see me as soon as they discovered the bodies.

"I thought I told you not in my county?"

"First, I don't know what you're talking about. If it's about those two bodies that got found the other day, they were two counties away from here. I didn't do it, and really don't care who did."

"If you say so. There was a few bikers in town, asking about some missing friends. What little was found over in Rutherford kinda matches the description of the guys they were looking for. They pulled out right after the announcement was made. I'm going to tell you this once. I don't care what you do out of my jurisdiction, but if you bring it to me everybody involved will go down. I'll make it my mission in life, you understand?"

"I do."

He was so pissed he left before Honey could give him his basket. As he got into his car he had a few final words. "I don't know why I'm telling you this, but the Zebras have rented some private land the next county over. The sheriff checked them out, and they told him they were going to turn it into a campground for their friends and family. They haven't broken any laws, but it looks like they're not leaving. Word has it the Feds are going to be here next week. Get your ducks in a row, I'd hate for Honey and your baby to visit you in jail, or worse, put flowers on your grave."

He left in a spray of gravel. I immediately got on the phone, calling my friends and telling them to meet me at Buck's. The women all knew what we did, so they showed up as well and soon started putting a meal together, the older kids watching out for the smaller ones. It was a typical gathering of close friends except for the seriousness of the situation. Billy's wife gathered up the kids and took them outside to catch fireflies as we talked. I laid out everything Tim had said, and while I didn't admit anything, they knew the recent killings fell at my door. They also knew it wouldn't have happened if it weren't a life or death situatiton.

I finished up and left it to them. "What do want to do about it?"

A couple voted for all out war but the rest calmed them down. In the end, we decided to pay the Zebras a social call, to see if we couldn't come to some kind of accomodation.

.......................................................................

I rolled up the dirt road in my truck, stopping when I came to the end. They might be bikers, but they had a nice layout, grass cut, plenty of shade trees, three portajohns, and an old fashioned hand pump for water. There was about a dozen laying around, but they all drifted over in my direction.

One seemed to be the spokesman. "What you want?"

His eyes went wide when I told him my name, and pretty soon they were hollerin' in front of a tent, and the big man himself came out. Prison may have fucked him up, but all that time with nothing to do except work out made him look hard as a rock, muscles bulging out of his wifebeater. He stood for a minute sneering before he grinned.

"You got a lot of balls for a white boy. What makes you think you're going to walk out of here?"

"Oh, I don't think that will be a problem."

One reached for a pistol and Buck dropped a full thirty round magazine right behind them, close enough to kick dust up on them. Most of them whirled around and paled. Buck was seating another magazine. Billy was grinning, the M16 pointed in their general directions. The rest had pump or automatic shotguns, except Jake. He had al old double barreled goose gun in 10 gauge, and when he pointed it at you the barrel looked big enough to walk into. They had weapons, a few pistols, a shotgun ot two, but they weren't to hand.

"Got your attention yet? These are the boys you're trying to steal from. They looked like they're worried to you? We walked right up on you, the next time we'll be in the bushes and you'll never see it coming. Why don't we have a seat?"

We made them sit at a couple of picnic tables and explained how life worked. "You wanna camp here? Camp here. It ain't our business, just like ours is none of yours. Your fearless leader is carrying a grudge that could get you killed if he don't draw his horns in."

There was a guy there who looked really nervous. He was dressed a lot better and you could tell he wasn't a biker. "You! Who are you?"

He admitted he was their buyer, come up to look at his product. I spelled it out for him. "All this man has is what he showed you. If he gets any more it will cost him a pretty high price, and we'll be very, very upset. Understand?"

I'd made him show his drivers license. "We know who you are now. Shit goes south, you'll be one of the first ones we look up, and we won't be happy."

He waved his hands. "I'm a businessman. I'll buy what I can, where I can. I'm hoping to establish some good business relationships while I'm here. It looks like I might be dealing with the wrong people, so I'll get out of the way. You boys settle this between you and I'll deal with whoever wins."