Employing a Heuristic Device to Overcome Literary Traps...I Know, Huh?

Hope everyone had an enjoyable weekend.  Here at the compound, eh…not so much, though there was never a dull moment.  I realize I kind of left you, my dear readers (that’s “dear” with the exception of the one guy who emails me constantly…he swears he’s getting closer to finding the compound and “will show” me once he does), hanging on Friday so we’ll pick back up with the events as they unfolded last Thursday.

I arrived at the nephew’s place to witness quite a scene.  The 10,000 gallon aquarium sitting in the center of the road and blocking the entrance to the nephew’s place.  On one side, a Woodward County Sheriff’s Deputy was looking at his watch and writing a new ticket to tape to the side of the thing every three minutes.  On the other side, the nephew lay in the road between the county commissioner on a bulldozer and the aquarium.

The county commissioner had an angry sneering sort of look on his face and persisted in lunging the bulldozer toward the aquarium and the nephew on the ground.  The nephew kept calling out, “There’s a crane coming!  There’s a crane coming!”  

The nephew’s oldest boy was over at the side of the road jumping up and down and hollering, “He’s crazy…he’s completely bonkers!” 

Course, I didn’t know whether the nephew’s son was talking about the sneering county commissioner or the nephew.  The question was answered (I think) when the nephew’s boy ran over and began peeing on the track rollers of the bulldozer.  This really seemed to enrage the county commissioner who began speaking in tongues and saying something about the defilement of county equipment.  The nephew told his son to get back to the house.

I walked over to the nephew and called to him (it was hard to say anything over the roar of the bulldozer with the county commissioner revving the motor) and asked if he needed anything.  He indicated that a bottle of water would be nice and the presence of Cousin Fred so he could pummel him.  I handed the nephew the water bottle that I was carrying…okay, actually I tossed it to him…there was no way I was stepping in front of a savage Aramaic-speaking county commissioner perched atop that machine.  I also told the nephew that as for pummeling Cousin Fred, he’d have to get in line.

It was about that time that I noticed the brother-in-law’s pick-up parked about 30 meters away to the south.  The brother-in-law was sitting atop the hood of his truck, leaning back against the windshield and taking it all in.  He appeared to be sipping iced tea from a Mason quart jar.  Since I had given up my bottle of water to the nephew, I decided to join the brother-in-law.  Figured it was safer that way, not to mention more refreshing.

I climbed up on the truck and took a seat next to the brother-in-law just as the deputy finished taping yet another ticket to the side of the aquarium.  I asked the brother-in-law why he was staying back out of the action. 

He responded, “Don’t think this will end well.”  He took another sip and handed the jar to me.

To pass the time, I started a discussion about a time and space problem I was having with a writing project that I had undertaken.  I was considering dropping the entire project because I really couldn’t find a means for overcoming my dilemma.  The brother-in-law considered that for a few sips and then suggested employing a heuristic device, which often helps a writer find his or her way out of a literary trap.  He suggested that I take a few days and re-read Plato’s “The Republic”…he offered to loan me a copy if I didn’t have one.   

I was just about to respond when we were interrupted by the nephew’s now hysterical cry, “The crane’s a comin’! The crane’s a comin’!” 

Sure enough, coming over the hill to the north was a huge mobile crane.  Cousin Fred appeared to have come through…I didn’t know how…but things were looking up.  

I commented to the brother-in-law that the county commissioner had shown remarkable restraint and patience.  The brother-in-law responded, “Oh, he’s patient all right.  For example, he’s always very patient about fixing the roads out here.  Has all the patience in the world about getting that done.”

We noticed that the deputy had become very interested in us.  The brother-in-law said that the show was over and we slid down off the hood of his pick-up.  He made a U turn in the road and headed back to his place. 

As I approached the deputy, I noted he had wild look in his eyes.  His right hand, that which he used to write, was now limp and down at his side.  The deputy sputtered, “I’ve written an entire year’s quota in citations!  I’ll bet it’s no time before I’m made undersheriff.”

I just walked past thinking to myself that he might, if only they could get Cousin Fred to actually pay the fines.  Obviously, they don’t know who they’re dealing with.

In no time at all, the crane operator rigged straps and was able to safely lift the 10,000 gallon aquarium out of the roadway (with citations still attached) and place it onto the nephew’s flat-bed trailer. 

As the crane driver pulled out to head back to the shop, who should appear on the horizon driving like the proverbial bat from hell?  Cousin Fred of course.

And, that was just Thursday.  Tomorrow I’ll tell you what happened on Friday!