The Second Doublewide on the Right, part 61

I’m Fixin’ To present part 61 of The Second Doublewide on the Right:

Standing out on his Uncle Willis’ back porch, Quantavious Cortez Carter, after being warned that Ocmulgee County Deputy Sheriff James Earl Murphy was most likely planning to plant some drugs on him or in his single wide and that his best option was to get out of the county, he wanted to tell his uncle that Apt-To-Miss was a great place to hide out while he dealt with drug dealers in Atlanta making a boat load of money. But he knew he couldn’t do that because no one, not even his uncle knew about his business or his money.

As if knowing what he was thinking his uncle said, “I don’t know what it is you do, and I don’t want to know. But what I do know is that Murphy has got you in his cross hairs.”

“How soon you think before he’ll make his move?”

“More than likely he’ll do it sometime this week.”

“Will you be able to give me some kind of heads up?”

Without any reservations Uncle Willis answered, “I can, because now I’ve got ears at the jail even when I’m not there, and I got myself a connection down at the courthouse, too. If a warrant is issued for your arrest I’ll know about it. You just keep that cell phone close at hand.”

“Thank you, Uncle Willis. But say I do get locked up, do you know a good lawyer?”

“Nephew, I know a lawyer so good that he can take about any charges and get ‘em reduced to praises. He can take a guilty plea, toss it up in the sunshine, and turn it into an acquittal. He’s so slick the judge calls him that. Yeah, everybody knows when you got trouble with the law you better call Slick.”

Quantavious pulled a roll of hundreds out of his pocket and handed it to his uncle. “Here’s a thousand in case you need to go my bail, and I got more where that come from if it’s needed.”

When he got back to Apt-To-Miss and Shady Grove Trailer Park he realized how glad he was to be there. He felt comfortable and secure inside his trailer, especially after he put on an Al Green CD and stretched out on his sofa. It wasn’t long before he dozed off while he was daydreaming about finding a hideout away from his current hideout.

He was hungry again when he woke up and he dined on a to-go plate his auntie had fixed for him while she had been telling Uncle Willis that he smelled like a stale ashtray.

There were two drumsticks, some green beans and mashed potatoes inside the styrofoam plate. The kids had sopped up all the gravy so he didn’t even bother to heat it up. It all still tasted good as he washed it down with two cans of Mountain Dew.

The caffeine in the drinks kept him from going back to sleep so he watched movies until the wee hours before he finally drifted off into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Once again, it was his cell phone that woke him up sometime Monday morning. He wasn’t sure what time of the morning it was, so before he answered his phone he reached over and pushed the button on his little digital clock, and was surprised when the face of it lit up and he saw that it was a little past noon.

Then he turned his attention back to his cell phone and was shocked to see that it was his Uncle Willis calling him.

“Oh, shucks!” he said as he swung his feet up and off the bed. “Hello.”

“They coming for you, boy!”

“What the heck you talking about Uncle Willis? I thought you was gonna give me some warning!”

“I don’t know how Murphy done it, but he got a search warrant issued first thing this morning. Now what you need to do is be cooperative and don’t give them no crap, or they’ll just pile other charges on you.”

“Like what kind of other charges?”

“Besides the drug charges they’ll tack on—–”

“What drugs are you talking about, Uncle Willis? I ain’t got no drugs here!”

“Oh, there’ll be some drugs there, son, or else they wouldn’t be coming. Now don’t try to resist or try to run or they’ll charge you with obstruction of an officer and attempting to elude and who knows the heck what else. I’ll get hold of Slick and you’ll be out of jail tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow my hind foot. I ain’t spending no night in jail for something I didn’t do,” Quantavious told his uncle as he was slipping into a pair of sweat pants and a hoodie. “How much time you think I’m fixin’ to have?”

(www.teddunagan.com)