Tale of Johnny Ray

Decatur, Georgia 1971

Conciousness was making a gradual return. I don't think anything is broken, but experience has taught me not to make any sudden moves when awaking in strange surroundings.
Light is creeping around the periphery of my right eye, but my left eye doesn't seem to be working properly.
I hear distant shouting. Maybe not so distant, for my left ear seems to be as faulty as the eye on that side.
The voices are speaking English, which is usually a good sign.
The first tentative effort to raise my head is accompanied by an intense throbbing and a wave of nausea.
If not for the fact that I haven't had a drink in over two years, I would attribute this feeling to a major hangover.
More than likely, I have taken a major blow to the head. Not surprising, given my propensity for putting it where it doesn't belong lately.
This doesn't seem to be a hospital, however it does have an institutional feel. Kind of narrows things down. I'm either in the loony bin or jail.
I hope it's the latter. Easier to bail myself out of jail than to prove my sanity.

"Well,well, look who's waking up. Had me worried son. Scared I mighta thumped you too hard. But I knowed you was a tough one. Way you was whoppin Virgil's butt.
Don't imagine you know this, but ole Virgil been the bouncer there for eleven years and ain't nobody so much as layed a finger on that boy."
Sheriff Earl Williams paused and took a long slow drag from his unfiltered Pall Mall before continuing.
"Now what I want to know is, what's a country boy from little ole Brookfield, Georgia doin up here in Atlanta stirrin up trouble in a strip joint?
And I want you to know that I hated bustin yore dang head with that nightstick, but I wasn't about to grab yore crazy butt. Not after I seen what you was doin to ole Virgil.
He's in Grady Memorial right now with six busted ribs and I don't know what the hell they gonna do with that jawbone.
Or that kneecap you shattered like it was a saltine cracker. Now the good news is, Virgil ain't pressin charges.
I think he's just a tad embarrassed that somebody half his size put such a major ### whuppin on him. I think he kinda admires you.
Now the bad news is, Virgil been here all his life, and he got a whole lot of friends around here.
And it don't matter to them boys how bad you are, cause they ain't gonna be gettin that close. I ain't sayin I approve, but I understand how it is.
And I ain't in no position to protect you neither. Now the best thing for you to do is to get your country self back to south Georgia where you belong.
Now before I turn you loose, you might want to clean up a little. I'll be back as soon as I get your walkin papers"

As the sheriff turned to walk away, I spoke for the first time, "Who was the woman?"
The sheriff gave me a disbelieving look followed by a short humorless laugh.
"Boy, don't you just beat all. Who was the woman? Are you serious? You #### near kill a feller tryin to get to that woman and now you want to know who she is? Boy, you something else."
Sheriff Williams stared at me some more and lit another Pall Mall, offering me one this time.
I declined. I smoked my last cigarette the day I took my last drink.
"I ain't got no business tellin you a #### thing about that lady, but I am. Doin it for two reasons.
First reason is to get it through your head that whoever you're lookin for, it ain't her.
That lady's name is Linda and I have known her since she was wearin diapers. Me and her brother played high school football together.
Makes her five years younger than me and about ten years older than you.
She has an accounting business in downtown Atlanta and she ain't never lived nowheres else.
The only reason she even set foot in that craphole is on account of they are undergoing an audit and she's going over the books.
So whoever you think she is, I promise she ain't. Just forget whatever the hell you think you're doin and get back home where you belong.
The second reason I'm giving you a break is cause I know who you are. And what you are.
Called my buddy over at Ft. McPherson in the records center. He was my platoon leader in Korea. He's a colonel now and still takes time to talk to a little ole county sheriff like me.
Anyhow, I know about what you did in Nam. I know you volunteered to stay over an extra tour. You probably would still be there if they hadn't seen fit to send your tail home for your own good.
I respect that son. Now you just gonna keep your mouth shut and walk out of here and don't even think about coming back."


Authors note: This is the first installment of a novel I have been working on.
I have borrowed first names from friends of mine and any resemblance of these characters to actual people is purely coincidental.
All the events taking place in this novel are fictional.
I am hoping to find at least a few readers among the membership of truckersreport.com and welcome their comments.

 

Thank-you Kansas.

 

Thank you too, sir. I am still a full time truckdriver, so I'll be writing as I have time. I have the next five chapters in my head, just a matter of getting it on here.

 

Thank you very much.

 

You are far too kind sir.
Just taking it one step at a time.
Thank-you though.