Is it wrong to chuckle at my own story?
The Angels are puzzled by the recent traffic patterns in Easton. Join them in this excerpt from Easton Holiday as Jason does his best to entertain his friends.
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Shelley started the truck and pulled forward
towards the exit to the street. Stopping and waiting for a break in traffic,
Shelley looked at the different vehicles on the street. “There’s a lot of
traffic this morning,” she commented.
“Well school’s out. Shouldn’t there be a lot of cars shopping and buying
stuff for Christmas?” Jason asked leaning forward in his seat.
“I don’t know. I always thought there would be less traffic, at least
around the high school,” she said pointing to the high school further south on
S. Elm Avenue.
“There’s a truck,” Eric said pointing to a moving van as it drove by.
“Where? Look, there are a bunch of trucks following it,” Jason said
elbowing Eric.
“There’s a black truck. Does it
look like the truck you saw at school Shelley?” Eric asked pointing at the black
pickup as it drove past them.
“I don’t know. It could be I guess,” she said her gaze following the black
pickup. “There really are a lot of trucks, moving vans and pickups, aren’t
there?”
“Let’s follow them,” Jason excitedly said.
“That’s probably not a good idea. We should just call Deputy Jerry when
we get home,” Shelley said.
“Come on Shelley. We’re here now. Let’s go,” Jason said bouncing in his
seat.
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to follow them for a little bit,” she said
worrying her bottom lip and watching Jason bounce.
Seeing a break in traffic, Shelley pulled in line behind one of the
trucks and followed the string of trucks traveling south on S. Elm Avenue.
Dad’s pickup fit in perfectly with the tarp covering the shelving in the back.
The boys were silent as they slowly flowed along with the stream of
trucks. They were leaning as far forward in their seats as their seat belts
would allow. Jason finally broke the silence as he craned his head around Lauren
in the front seat, “Where are they going Shelley?”
“I don’t know, but they sure are driving slowly,” she answered.
“I bet they’re going to the elementary school,” Jason declared, his face
now smashed against the side window trying to see forward.
“If they turn on Adams, they probably are,” Eric said looking straight
ahead through the windshield.
“You’re probably right Jason,” Shelley said. “The trucks are turning
right, but I can’t see which street yet.”
“It has to be Adams because we passed the high school already,” Jonathan
said leaning into Eric as he also looked through the windshield.
“Are you going to keep following them Shelley?” Lauren asked.
“They aren’t going far if they’re really heading to American Union. I’ll
stay with them that far at least. If they don’t stop at the school, I’ll turn
on the next street and then we’ll go home,” she said thinking out loud and watching
the truck in front of her turn right. Jonathan was correct, the street was W. Adams
Avenue.
Shelley slowed to almost stopping as she turned the corner onto W. Adams
Avenue. She let the truck she was following put some distance between them; she
didn’t want to get too close.
The truck behind her had other ideas as he leaned on his horn. Jason and
Eric knocked their heads together as they both tried to turn around and look
out the back window at the honking truck. “Owe, Jason. That hurt. What’re you
doing?” Eric moaned massaging the side of his head.
“Well, move over. I’m looking out the back window,” Jason said, similarly
rubbing his head.
Shelley accelerated the truck so they were at least doing the speed limit
in the hopes the truck behind them would stop honking.
“Is that one of the farmers you saw Jason?” Jonathan asked looking at the
white Ford pickup behind them.
“I don’t know. That guy is wearing a plaid shirt. He could be I guess,”
Jason said. “Hey, that’s a really old truck. The paint looks faded and its
wheel wells are dented. Are those chickens in the crates it’s got in the back?”
“How do you know it has chickens back there?” Eric asked looking out the
window and keeping an eye on Jason’s hard head at the same time.
“The feathers. There are feathers blowing away from the truck. See?” Jason
said pointing at the debris leaving the truck.
“Those aren’t feathers,” Jonathan disagreed. “It’s just leaves or dirt or
something.”
“Hey guys. We’re almost to the school and it looks like the trucks are
parking everywhere. Write down any plate numbers you see. There’s a tablet in
the seat back pocket,” Shelley said waving towards the back seat as Lauren
retrieved a few pens from the dash. “We’ll give the list to Deputy Jerry when
we get home. Maybe it will help him figure out what’s going on around here.”
As Shelley slowly passed American Union Elementary School, Lauren began
counting trucks as Jonathan and Eric furiously wrote plate numbers on the
tablets. The maintenance shed parking area was almost full with the pickups and
moving vans. A group of men milled about the trucks looking in the backs at the
loads they carried. A man on the curb holding a clipboard was waving to the
drivers as they slowed, directing them to either pull in to the parking lot or
park on the street. Shelley ducked her head and looked away from the man with
the clipboard as she passed the school.
Jason held up his fisted hand and began narrating into his make-believe
microphone as if he was reporting the news as he excitedly bounced around in
the back seat. “We have received an
anonymous tip this morning from the American Union Elementary School in Easton,
California. A convention of conveyances was reportedly seen in, around and on
school property. Semi-trucks with trailers, moving vans, flatbed trucks and
pickups all converged on the elementary school.
This reporter counts – how many trucks so far Lauren?” Jason
interrupted himself.
“I count 16 trucks so far, Jason,” she answered giggling at Jason’s
reporter voice.
“This reporter counts 16 trucks and
more. What brings these trucks to American Union Elementary School? Are there
some nefarious doings a foot? Those answers and more, next on News at 11:00.
Back to you Bob,” Jason signed off, grinning at his own theatrics.
Shelley busted up laughing as she passed the parked trucks and the school
and turned north on S. Marks Avenue, escaping from the convention of conveyances, and heading home to the Sanders Ranch on
S. West Avenue. They had a lot to discuss with Deputy Jerry.
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