Tag: Toyota

Mer Rouge (Part 46)

Hutch found an old faded porno laying in the grass on the south facing side of the church. He picked it up and knocked off the spiders, grass, and other critters that burrowed its way into the pages and thumbed through it. A few feet away, Oren had the windows rolled down and the driver’s seat eased back in the Toyota. He heard Hutch strolling his way towards his corner of the yard and he lifted his head. He saw that his brother was all smiles as he glared at the full bushed woman from the December 1981 issue of Penthouse. Oren knew that issue well. He called out to Hutch. “Get in the car man!”

Hutch was slightly startled and promptly dropped the magazine. “Shit! I didn’t see you there bro!”

“Just get in!”

Hutch shrugged and strolled to the passengers side. He opened the door, sat his rotund ass down and took out a cigarette. “Whatchu thinking man?” he asked his brother. But Oren inserted the keys into the ignition and started the car. “I’m thinkin we’re gettin the hell outta here!”

Oren laid on the gas, kicking up a cloud of rock and dirt. But just a few meters down the dirt road, Sheriff DuPont stumbled into their path. Oren slammed on the brakes. The Sheriff didn’t budge an inch as he glared at the brothers through the windshield. He slowly approached the driver’s side and he ordered Oren to roll down the window. He complied and the officer leaned forward and rested his forearms on the sill. “So uh, you boys just goin for a Sunday drive?” DuPont asked.

“Yessir,” said Oren.

“Nosir,” said Hutch.

“Well I reckon that would be alright as long as yur back n about thirty minutes,” the sheriff explained. “The problem is that this is an illegally obtained vehicle. Now don’t worry. I get it. This is unusual circumstances. But after we’re done with this little operation here, we’ll need to get the car back to it’s rightful owner, see. I hope you understand.”

“Yessir.”

“Now I’m supposin that yur Oren Waites of Utah, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Then I got some excellent news for ya. I got that Honco of yours in impound.”

“You do?”

“Oh yes. Still runs like a charm too, I’ll tell ya. Sure the cab and windshield are busted up, but I got the gas tank patched up. Now mind you, you’re gonna have to pick it up come tonight. Else I’m gonna have to charge you impound and towing fees, ya see.”

Oren swallowed hard. “Okay, I understand,” he said.

“Good,” said the sheriff. “Now why don’t you turn this piece of shit around and pull up to the shack down yonder. We’re fixin to head out soon.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Mer Rouge (Part 36)

Sound asleep in his bottom bunk, Moses shook him awake. “Sumthin’s happenin,” he whispered. Hutch lifted his head groggy eyed. “Sumthin’s always happenin’,” he told his bunk mate. Moses slapped him across the face. “No fool! This is serious! Simpson and Fornier are running around like a bunch of crackheads!”

Hutch threw the covers off him and approached the bars to see what Moses was bitching about. He could hear some commotion towards the front office as other inmates were waking up to listen. “Is this unusual?” he asked Moses. 

“Shhh! Shut the fuck up! I can’t hear!”

A minute or two later, Fornier busted the door open into the cellblock. He was drenched in sweat with stains around his pits and man tits and he was carrying a shotgun. “Alright everyone, listen up,” he announced cordially, “any minute now you might hear a ruckus. Like some gunshots and whatnot. I assure you that it’s nuthin to worry about it and the situation is under control. If a fire breaks out, just sit tight. It’ll get taken care of shortly. Get some rest and we’re gonna have a good day tomorrow. It’ll be Sunday morning. The chaplain will be here and we’ll get extra pudding. Alright, sleep tight fellas.” Then the office door slammed shut.

“What the fuck man!” another inmate shouted down the hall.

Moses scratched his head and furrowed his brow. “Oh lord, this is bad,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Hutch asked.

“What do you mean ‘what do I mean’? Did you not hear what he said?!”

“He said it was under control.”

“You can’t be that dense.”

“What? A few gunshots? They’re probably shooting at some criminals. We’re criminals too! Relax! We’re safe!”

“I should beat some sense into you. Not just gunshots but fires too! Mother fucker, if this place catches on fire, we’re trapped behind these bars! They ain’t comin to rescue us!”

Hutch brushed it off. “Ehh,” he said. “He was just being hyperbolic.”

“I don’t know how the hell you know what that word means. But a fire ain’t nuthin to take lightly. Especially round here.”

“Why? Fires start a lot around here?”

“You’re goddamn right they do!”

Meanwhile, about five hundred yards behind the sheriff’s department, there was a parish road running east to west. Only the intermittent glow of fireflies provided any light. Oren and the Priest cut off the lights to their stolen Toyota Selica Supra. It was dark brown and wasn’t easily seen from the road. Oren was driving. The Priest was looking through a pair of binoculars at the large barren field separating them and the sheriff’s station. “See anything?” asked Oren.

“Nah. Not even a deer turd.”

Oren kept his hands clasped around the steering wheel. He took in the smell of the brand new upholstery. “How did you find this beauty?” he asked the priest.

“You don’t live as long as I do without learning a thing or two,” he told Oren without taking his eyes off the binoculars.

“So what do we do now?”

The priest panned the binoculars off to a thicket of wood just off to the left. “I reckon we outta hide the car,” he said. “Then we hunker down over in that thicket.”

TO BE CONTINUED…