Well, if'n he were gonna have the truck free to gallivant around in, I mean he was hopin' to take Jean to Syracuse for a show, and well, you know. So he stacked 'em and give 'em away. And Rankin were some mad. I mean he had a whole four bits in the dozen he got, and now they's worthless. Now Tom weren't one to let someone beat him outa hard cash and get away with it. He'd think a somethin'.
Anyways, the Fates or whatsoever is in charge a Tom Rankin's fortunes was smilin', snickerin' prolly, 'cause who should blow into town while ol' Milo was a washin' and cleanin' of his truck but Theodore Larkin from back home. Now, it was knowed far and wide that Theodore was a "catch" but so far no one had catch him. And where should he park that Lincoln V-12 but smack afront a Tom's store. Well, Teddy Boy strolled in the front door, give the bell hangin' atop it a extry jingle, and with that big ol' grin he most allus wore says, "Oh, Tommy Boy, guess who's gracin' this burg and this lowly den of commerce with his stellar presence? Why, indeedy, it is I, Theodore James Larkin, just in from the glorious Cumberlands, and here to dazzle this village for, oh, who knows how long?"
Tom mought not a been thrilled with Ted's advertisin' a hisself, but he instantly see a opportunity. He sidles over to that handsome lad, slips a arm 'round his shoulder and says, "You are a sight for sore eyes! Hey, Teddy, old pal, do you recollect that Jean Larson, come up from the Clinch? Why, she's a beauty if'n I ever see one, an' she is to home right this instant. Lonely? I reckon yearnin' is whut she is."
So Milo's truck was all shiny and clean with no place to go. 'Ceptin' home.
© 2013 David W. Lacy