The Second Doublewide on the Right, part 62
I’m Fixin’ To present part 62 of The Second Doublewide on the Right:
After calling Quantavious on his cell phone to warn him that the law had obtained a warrant for his arrest on the charges of possession with intent to distribute cocaine, meth and marijuana, and were on their way to his trailer, he was pleading with his nephew to be cooperative with Deputy James Earl Murphy when he arrived.
“You ain’t got no time to run, son!. You might make it out to Hwy 46, but you won’t get far in that purple thing you drive. Now just do like I told you and—–”
Quantavious cut the connection, slipped the phone and his wallet into the pocket of his sweat pants. He grabbed a pair of shoes and took time to close the back door of his trailer so as not to leave an obvious clue of the direction of his flight. Then he sprinted towards the woods behind his trailer. He had barely made it into the cover of them when he took time to look back through the foliage to see Murphy’s cruiser roaring down the center of the trailer park.
After that he didn’t look back. He turned and ran like a deer through the dense woods looking for the tree that marked the spot where his emergency case was buried. It was a large hickory that he was looking for. In his haste he missed it the first time and had to double back before he found it.
Then he fell to his knees and tossed the big dead limb aside and began digging through the thick layer of dead leaves until he uncovered the metal briefcase. Then he snatched it up and continued to run, slanting to his left in the direction of Hwy 43.
When he reached the highway he knew he was about a quarter of a mile west of the entrance of the trailer park. He looked and listened real hard to make sure no vehicles were coming before he darted across the road into the woods on the other side of it. Then he ran for what he thought was about two more miles along the tree line of the road, dashing in and out of the woods when he heard a car coming. After those two exhausting miles he walked real fast for what he estimated to be two more miles before he stopped, hidden in the edge of the woods.
Only then did he consider how dire his situation was. He was on the run from the law, he was on foot, and due to his lone wolf lifestyle he had no one to call on for aid. There was his uncle, but he didn’t want to compromise him.
While he was resting he opened the case and inspected its contents. There was a roll of cash which he knew to be two thousand dollars. He pocketed the cash and lifted the .38 caliber Smith & Wesson snub nosed revolver and inspected it. Spinning the chamber he could tell that it had not rusted, and that it was fully loaded.
He was hungry and he regretted that the food he had stashed in the case was only a little can of sausages and a tube of crackers, but he ate them both while he sat with his back against the trunk of a dead pine tree. There was also a sweat suit in the case, but he abandoned it along with the case. Now he was on the move again, not running, but in a steady jog heading west feeling the weight of the hand gun in his pocket.
There wasn’t much traffic on the old state road and he stayed on the edge of the pavement except for the few times he had to dash into the woods when he heard a vehicle approaching. He didn’t get cold even though the temperature was in the low sixties’ because the sun was out and he was either jogging or running most of the time.
Quantavious didn’t feel the cold until a cloud covered the sun. He was walking and the perspiration had dried on him and he felt a shiver go through him. He began running again, not only to keep warm, but also to put more distance between himself and Apt-To-Miss. It wasn’t really running, more like a trot, that way he could stay with it longer. But about an hour after dark he began to regret leaving the extra sweat suit behind. No matter how fast he moved he was still cold.
Two hours later his breathing had become ragged, his feet had gone numb and he was becoming despondent when a dark form loomed up on his left. He stopped and studied it until he recognized it as the old store that had been abandoned years ago, and thought it might be a refuge and a resting place.
The moon was up when re got to the rear of the old store and he saw where the weeds had been recently crushed down by the tires of a large truck. He wondered about that, but what he was more concerned about was that he was cold, alone, in a strange place and being pursued by the law. All that money stacked up in a bank deposit box and here he was wondering how he was going to make it through the night.
He sat on the ground next to the building and kicked in a rotted board and climbed inside. When his eyes became adjusted to the light he discovered a large, folded piece of canvas. After unfolding it to make sure there were no rats inside, he rolled himself up in it to blot out most of the cold.
Quantavious slept fitfully in the fetal position until just before dawn when he was once again awakened by Otis Redding. He fumbled for his cell phone wondering who it was fixin’ to be on the line