Easton Holiday, a convention of conveyances

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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