40StudeDude
02-10-2006, 06:58 PM
Serial: A work appearing in parts at pre-determined intervals. More at installment.
Installment. Issued as part of a consecutively published and indefinitely continued series. Serials and installments used on major radio stations in the 1930, 1940’s and some of the 1950’s. Radio programs such as Dick Tracy (1934-1948), The Shadow (1931-1954), Amos n’ Andy, (1930-1952), Fibber McGee & Molly, (1935-1959), The Great Gildersleeve (a spin-off from Fibber McGee, 1941-1950), Buck Rogers (1932-1941) and in 1940, Superman rode the airwaves into everyone’s home three times a week in the serial until 1951. There were countless other serials on the radios back in the day…way before television ever found its way into homes. Families gathered around the radio to listen to a serial much like today’s families gather to watch a certain continuing television program…
This serial requires your intrigue, your imagination, your sound effects and your indulgence.
PART SIX – Caught…fingers in the wrong place.
Lew stood in front of the dark red mahogany desk in the huge office, deputy hat in hand, his solid 250 pounds and broad shoulders ready for nearly anything the sheriff could dish out, apologizing to Sheriff Sam Buckner for not being around last night.
The sheriff scowled…didn’t say a word, figured to let Lew hang himself. He knew he couldn’t give him too much hell because he was the one that gave him the nite off. Wasn’t his fault the multi-car accident happened on that very nite. One thing the sheriff really wanted to know was if he and Dorree were doing the dirty deed…fraternizing with co-workers was against policy…and he wondered if he’d really fire either if it came down to it…they were both valuable to the department…maybe just give them both a warning and slide it under the carpet…Lew’s voice droned on.
“OK Lew, that’s enough apologizing for now. It’s over and done…however, about the other nite…”
Oh crap, here it comes, knew I wouldn’t be able to get away with it. Lew shifted his weight to the other foot, ready for the verbal assault.
“I would like to know what happened to the gas in the cruiser couple nights ago?”
“Uhm, uh. Dorree, uhm, didn’t tell you what happened?” Lew stammered.
“She did, but she’s not my deputy, you are, and I want to hear your side of the story.”
It took Lew forty-five minutes of explaining how he used up ten gallons of gas, mostly because the sheriff stopped him every other sentence to ask about something else…and to answer his phone, damned thing was trying to compete with the story…and Lew was sweating bullets trying to keep his story straight with Dorree’s…he was also getting tired of standing in front of the Sheriff’s desk. He tried to tell the Sheriff about the lights on in John Milner’s equipment shed, out on his acreage…really strange why lights were on after midnight…but he didn’t get a chance to.
Sheriff Buckner held up his hand about halfway thru Lew’s last sentence of explanation to answer the phone again. “Hello, Buckner here…uh hummmm, no, I don’t know if he knows that or not. He’s standing here in front of my desk. Would you like to talk to him? No, hasn’t said anything to me about it, yet. Oh. No, he wasn’t at the scene.” He continued to hold his hand up…Lew knew better than to interrupt when the sheriff was using that signal.
Lew got very curious, the sheriff kept looking at him as he answered the questions coming from the other end of the phone, but couldn’t put two and two together. Had no idea what the sheriff was talking about, nor to whom.
“Fine, I’ll make sure he knows…yes, that is very interesting. Thank you.” The hand didn’t move until Sam parked his butt back in the chair… “Lew, when’s the last time you saw Tommy Stickler?”
“Stick?”
“Yes, isn’t that the nickname you guys bestowed upon him?”
“Damn, been several years now, Dorree and I were just talking about him the other night, why?” Uh-oh…did I just blow it? I said “the other nite.”
A slight smile crept across the sheriff’s face…ahhh, there it is…I knew they were out together, playing kissie-face…that didn’t take long. He noticed Lew’s face changing to a bright red, starting from the collar and rising. “He’s in the hospital, in Omaha.”
“He is? What happened?” Lew‘s immediacy shocked the sheriff, but he knew his face was probably the brightest red it’s been in a very long time, perhaps all the way back to high school when the guys forced him to run the entire length of the school hallway in his jock strap…man, was that embarrassing. And now I’ve spilled the beans about me being out with Dorree…maybe. Maybe…the sheriff didn’t catch it…I can only hope!
The sheriff grinned…found out what he wanted to without having to get verbally ugly with his deputy. “That multi-car the other night…he was driving one of the cars. They took him to Omaha right away…he was hurt.”
“Man, I didn’t know he was still around, last I’d heard some judge had ordered him into the military…or was it prison?” Lew shifted his weight on his feet and wiped his forehead…he could feel perspiration welling in his armpits, even figured his shirt was being soaked and the sheriff could see it… sure felt like it.
“From what I hear, the military kicked him out, right at the end of basic…didn’t bother to notify anyone…he slipped through the cracks and has been on his own for the last year or so.” The sheriff leaned back in his chair and put his boots up on the edge of the desk, small chunks of mud fell onto the carpet. Lew reached to scoop them up and toss them into the waste basket. “Don’t Lew…let Milner take care of that…that’s what we pay him for.”
Lew straightened. “Any idea where he was headed?” He flipped a small piece of mud into the ash tray, scattering ashes onto the desk. “Was he coming back to Flatfield…to, uhm, hang out here for a while?”
“Don’t know…you don’t?” The sheriff patted the ashes together and didn’t wait for Lew’s answer, bent to blow the ashes off the desk and looked up at him from the edge of the desk. “Maybe you can find out for us?”
“Us? Uhm, sure,” Lew offered, not sure where the sheriff was going with this, or what he was wanting. “I think I…uhm, he and I weren’t the best of friends, but we did say Hi to each other every once in a while. What do you have in mind?”
“Dorree…she went out with him, right…for a while?” Sam asked. “Maybe you and her could take a run to Omaha to have a chat with him…sorta like friends dropping in after hearing he was in the hospital.”
“Well, uhm, sure, I guess. I really don’t know how serious they were. I can ask. You want me to take the cruiser?”
“NO! You are not taking MY cruiser again.”
“I’ll, uh...have to…uhm…check with Dorree, see if she’ll go…are we in any big hurry?”
“Hold on there, cowboy. I will ask her to go with you…and I want you to take your own car…just make it seem like friends dropping in. That’s all.”
“But, uhm, sheriff, what if she says no…”
“You’re not listening…Dorree will go…and I’ll talk with her…you get to ask her to come in and see me when we’re done…and both of you can take the afternoon off, and get paid for it.”
“O…K…Sam,” Lew said hesitatingly, shifting his weight again, “but I got a feeling this isn’t simply a ‘get well’ visit. I think you’re fishing for something.”
“Very observant, Deputy. But…if I tell you what I’m after, you may blow it, don’t need that…and please excuse my non-confidence in your conversational abilities here, nothing is meant by it, that’s why you’re taking Dorree. Just find out where Tommy’s been, what’s he’s been up to…his job…you know, the usual banter between friends. Does he know you’re a deputy now?”
Lew was puzzled even more now…why is the sheriff fishing? Why doesn’t he come right out and say what he wants to know about Stick? “Uhm, No, haven’t seen him…he doesn’t know…and I’m not sure Dorree will want to see him again. Anything in particular you’re looking for?”
“She’ll go, it’s her motherly instinct…any time an old acquaintance gets hurt, any woman wants to check on past friends…or lovers…make sure they’re going to get well. Understand? When you come back and report to me, I’ll have a better idea of exactly what I’m looking for.” The sheriff slid his boots off the edge of the desk, stood up, pushed his chair back against the wall and walked toward the window. He didn’t bother to turn around, looked out the window and said quietly. “That work for you, Deputy?”
“If that’s the way you want it Sheriff, then that’s what will work for me…when do you want us to leave?”
“Ask Dorree to come in on your way out…would you please?” The sheriff continued to gaze out the window, leaves were kicking up around the flagpole in front of the building…the flag whipped in the wind…looked like another storm front rolling in. More rain, just what we need, now that the crops are all in. “That’ll be all, Deputy.”
“Yessir,” Lew answered, reaching for the door knob. “Uhm, I don’t have any gas in the Camaro…”
“Take it down to Jock’s, fill it up,” Sam sighed, his back to Lew. “I don’t imagine that big block is going to allow you to get to Omaha and back on one tank, right? OK, go see Marcie and ask her for about $50 in petty cash, tell her I authorized it and if she has a problem to call me on the intercom…got it?”
“Yessir, I’ll do that right away and be back shortly, we’ll leave about noon…that be OK?”
“Please ask Dorree to come in now….oh, Deputy, one more thing…take Dorree to a nice restaurant there in Omaha tonite, after you’re done chatting with Stick……no hurry to get back tonite, take your time and we’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Oh…yessir, thank you, sir.”
The sheriff turned and watched Lew bounce out of his office…he’d just given him a jolt in the arm, especially in the ‘Dorree’s-going-out-with-me’ department. That extra bit of cash could get them into a really nice restaurant in Omaha…they’d just as well make a night of it. Ahhh, to be young again. Sam heard a knock on his door and turned to see lovely Dorree standing in the doorway. “Come in please, Dorree, I’ve got a special request of you.”
The phone rang again. He picked it up and put it to his ear.
Dorree couldn’t hear much, but the phone conversation went something like this: “Are you sure? No, I haven’t had time to check on the eighteen wheeler, matter of fact, haven’t checked on any of the cars involved in that accident. How long has the car been reported missing? Where was it stolen? You’ve run the plates? Who does it belong to? Out of Des Moines? Yessir, I’ll check it out. Thank you, sir.”
* * *
Uh-oh…stolen car? Or cars? Or , waitaminnit…what was in the eighteen wheeler? Don’t know right now…plot’s getting thicker, ain’t it? And now Deputy Lew is going to Omaha to renew his “friendship” with that bad egg “Stick”…but what if Dorree doesn’t want to go along? Doesn’t want to see that convict…oh wait, he really wasn’t a convict, was he? Never did any time in prison…unless you can call basic training a ‘prison’? Ha, yep, to some it probably was, especially if you didn’t have any choice in the matter. And…will Dorree heed the sheriff’s request? Will she like it? Do you think Dorree’s…or Lew’s… friendly conversation is going to arrive at any conclusions for the Sheriff? Think Lew even has an inkling of what the sheriff is after? Think Lew is looking forward to going to Omaha with Dorree? Awwww man, don’t be ridiculous…’course he’s got his head all primed for that second base hit with her, especially after treating her to dinner in a fine restaurant…with wine and all…wouldn’t be a bit surprised if maybe that home run will come around a lot sooner than he thinks!
Maybe.
Well, s’pose you’d better park your butt alongside the story teller’s fridge next Friday nite, grab a paper cup, fill it with wine and stick around if you don’t want to miss any of this intriguing cereal…oh nuts…can’t seem to get that one spelled correctly – it’s a SERIAL! Oh, I’m not sure there’s any wine…or beer left…mite want to grab a couple of those throw-away boxes of wine…
C Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa,
R-
Copyright 12-2005, RAJetter/Aden Rush
“Bangin’ Gears & Bustin’ Heads”…the book, by R.A. Jetter describes a 16 year-old’s life in the late fifties up to the mid 1960’s…and what it was like to get into illegal drag races and fist-fights…it’s a series of 26 episodes, with each episode described in how and why, between each story. Vintage B & W photos are included-- a total of 208 pages.
High speed car stories set in the 1960’s.
Wanna know how it really went down back then? Wanna know what new ‘61 409’s, ’62 406 Fords ran like off the showroom floor? Wanna read about drag races, sock hops, real cruising and Premium gasoline? Wanna know how most of us spent our weekends back then? Wanna ride along with a lunatic?
If you do…this book will, at least, educate you to how it really was in the Midwest!
A personal, autographed copy is available at www.RAJetter.com (http://www.rajetter.com/) …or send check/ M.O. for $20.95 to: P.O. Box 440042, Aurora, CO80044.
Installment. Issued as part of a consecutively published and indefinitely continued series. Serials and installments used on major radio stations in the 1930, 1940’s and some of the 1950’s. Radio programs such as Dick Tracy (1934-1948), The Shadow (1931-1954), Amos n’ Andy, (1930-1952), Fibber McGee & Molly, (1935-1959), The Great Gildersleeve (a spin-off from Fibber McGee, 1941-1950), Buck Rogers (1932-1941) and in 1940, Superman rode the airwaves into everyone’s home three times a week in the serial until 1951. There were countless other serials on the radios back in the day…way before television ever found its way into homes. Families gathered around the radio to listen to a serial much like today’s families gather to watch a certain continuing television program…
This serial requires your intrigue, your imagination, your sound effects and your indulgence.
PART SIX – Caught…fingers in the wrong place.
Lew stood in front of the dark red mahogany desk in the huge office, deputy hat in hand, his solid 250 pounds and broad shoulders ready for nearly anything the sheriff could dish out, apologizing to Sheriff Sam Buckner for not being around last night.
The sheriff scowled…didn’t say a word, figured to let Lew hang himself. He knew he couldn’t give him too much hell because he was the one that gave him the nite off. Wasn’t his fault the multi-car accident happened on that very nite. One thing the sheriff really wanted to know was if he and Dorree were doing the dirty deed…fraternizing with co-workers was against policy…and he wondered if he’d really fire either if it came down to it…they were both valuable to the department…maybe just give them both a warning and slide it under the carpet…Lew’s voice droned on.
“OK Lew, that’s enough apologizing for now. It’s over and done…however, about the other nite…”
Oh crap, here it comes, knew I wouldn’t be able to get away with it. Lew shifted his weight to the other foot, ready for the verbal assault.
“I would like to know what happened to the gas in the cruiser couple nights ago?”
“Uhm, uh. Dorree, uhm, didn’t tell you what happened?” Lew stammered.
“She did, but she’s not my deputy, you are, and I want to hear your side of the story.”
It took Lew forty-five minutes of explaining how he used up ten gallons of gas, mostly because the sheriff stopped him every other sentence to ask about something else…and to answer his phone, damned thing was trying to compete with the story…and Lew was sweating bullets trying to keep his story straight with Dorree’s…he was also getting tired of standing in front of the Sheriff’s desk. He tried to tell the Sheriff about the lights on in John Milner’s equipment shed, out on his acreage…really strange why lights were on after midnight…but he didn’t get a chance to.
Sheriff Buckner held up his hand about halfway thru Lew’s last sentence of explanation to answer the phone again. “Hello, Buckner here…uh hummmm, no, I don’t know if he knows that or not. He’s standing here in front of my desk. Would you like to talk to him? No, hasn’t said anything to me about it, yet. Oh. No, he wasn’t at the scene.” He continued to hold his hand up…Lew knew better than to interrupt when the sheriff was using that signal.
Lew got very curious, the sheriff kept looking at him as he answered the questions coming from the other end of the phone, but couldn’t put two and two together. Had no idea what the sheriff was talking about, nor to whom.
“Fine, I’ll make sure he knows…yes, that is very interesting. Thank you.” The hand didn’t move until Sam parked his butt back in the chair… “Lew, when’s the last time you saw Tommy Stickler?”
“Stick?”
“Yes, isn’t that the nickname you guys bestowed upon him?”
“Damn, been several years now, Dorree and I were just talking about him the other night, why?” Uh-oh…did I just blow it? I said “the other nite.”
A slight smile crept across the sheriff’s face…ahhh, there it is…I knew they were out together, playing kissie-face…that didn’t take long. He noticed Lew’s face changing to a bright red, starting from the collar and rising. “He’s in the hospital, in Omaha.”
“He is? What happened?” Lew‘s immediacy shocked the sheriff, but he knew his face was probably the brightest red it’s been in a very long time, perhaps all the way back to high school when the guys forced him to run the entire length of the school hallway in his jock strap…man, was that embarrassing. And now I’ve spilled the beans about me being out with Dorree…maybe. Maybe…the sheriff didn’t catch it…I can only hope!
The sheriff grinned…found out what he wanted to without having to get verbally ugly with his deputy. “That multi-car the other night…he was driving one of the cars. They took him to Omaha right away…he was hurt.”
“Man, I didn’t know he was still around, last I’d heard some judge had ordered him into the military…or was it prison?” Lew shifted his weight on his feet and wiped his forehead…he could feel perspiration welling in his armpits, even figured his shirt was being soaked and the sheriff could see it… sure felt like it.
“From what I hear, the military kicked him out, right at the end of basic…didn’t bother to notify anyone…he slipped through the cracks and has been on his own for the last year or so.” The sheriff leaned back in his chair and put his boots up on the edge of the desk, small chunks of mud fell onto the carpet. Lew reached to scoop them up and toss them into the waste basket. “Don’t Lew…let Milner take care of that…that’s what we pay him for.”
Lew straightened. “Any idea where he was headed?” He flipped a small piece of mud into the ash tray, scattering ashes onto the desk. “Was he coming back to Flatfield…to, uhm, hang out here for a while?”
“Don’t know…you don’t?” The sheriff patted the ashes together and didn’t wait for Lew’s answer, bent to blow the ashes off the desk and looked up at him from the edge of the desk. “Maybe you can find out for us?”
“Us? Uhm, sure,” Lew offered, not sure where the sheriff was going with this, or what he was wanting. “I think I…uhm, he and I weren’t the best of friends, but we did say Hi to each other every once in a while. What do you have in mind?”
“Dorree…she went out with him, right…for a while?” Sam asked. “Maybe you and her could take a run to Omaha to have a chat with him…sorta like friends dropping in after hearing he was in the hospital.”
“Well, uhm, sure, I guess. I really don’t know how serious they were. I can ask. You want me to take the cruiser?”
“NO! You are not taking MY cruiser again.”
“I’ll, uh...have to…uhm…check with Dorree, see if she’ll go…are we in any big hurry?”
“Hold on there, cowboy. I will ask her to go with you…and I want you to take your own car…just make it seem like friends dropping in. That’s all.”
“But, uhm, sheriff, what if she says no…”
“You’re not listening…Dorree will go…and I’ll talk with her…you get to ask her to come in and see me when we’re done…and both of you can take the afternoon off, and get paid for it.”
“O…K…Sam,” Lew said hesitatingly, shifting his weight again, “but I got a feeling this isn’t simply a ‘get well’ visit. I think you’re fishing for something.”
“Very observant, Deputy. But…if I tell you what I’m after, you may blow it, don’t need that…and please excuse my non-confidence in your conversational abilities here, nothing is meant by it, that’s why you’re taking Dorree. Just find out where Tommy’s been, what’s he’s been up to…his job…you know, the usual banter between friends. Does he know you’re a deputy now?”
Lew was puzzled even more now…why is the sheriff fishing? Why doesn’t he come right out and say what he wants to know about Stick? “Uhm, No, haven’t seen him…he doesn’t know…and I’m not sure Dorree will want to see him again. Anything in particular you’re looking for?”
“She’ll go, it’s her motherly instinct…any time an old acquaintance gets hurt, any woman wants to check on past friends…or lovers…make sure they’re going to get well. Understand? When you come back and report to me, I’ll have a better idea of exactly what I’m looking for.” The sheriff slid his boots off the edge of the desk, stood up, pushed his chair back against the wall and walked toward the window. He didn’t bother to turn around, looked out the window and said quietly. “That work for you, Deputy?”
“If that’s the way you want it Sheriff, then that’s what will work for me…when do you want us to leave?”
“Ask Dorree to come in on your way out…would you please?” The sheriff continued to gaze out the window, leaves were kicking up around the flagpole in front of the building…the flag whipped in the wind…looked like another storm front rolling in. More rain, just what we need, now that the crops are all in. “That’ll be all, Deputy.”
“Yessir,” Lew answered, reaching for the door knob. “Uhm, I don’t have any gas in the Camaro…”
“Take it down to Jock’s, fill it up,” Sam sighed, his back to Lew. “I don’t imagine that big block is going to allow you to get to Omaha and back on one tank, right? OK, go see Marcie and ask her for about $50 in petty cash, tell her I authorized it and if she has a problem to call me on the intercom…got it?”
“Yessir, I’ll do that right away and be back shortly, we’ll leave about noon…that be OK?”
“Please ask Dorree to come in now….oh, Deputy, one more thing…take Dorree to a nice restaurant there in Omaha tonite, after you’re done chatting with Stick……no hurry to get back tonite, take your time and we’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Oh…yessir, thank you, sir.”
The sheriff turned and watched Lew bounce out of his office…he’d just given him a jolt in the arm, especially in the ‘Dorree’s-going-out-with-me’ department. That extra bit of cash could get them into a really nice restaurant in Omaha…they’d just as well make a night of it. Ahhh, to be young again. Sam heard a knock on his door and turned to see lovely Dorree standing in the doorway. “Come in please, Dorree, I’ve got a special request of you.”
The phone rang again. He picked it up and put it to his ear.
Dorree couldn’t hear much, but the phone conversation went something like this: “Are you sure? No, I haven’t had time to check on the eighteen wheeler, matter of fact, haven’t checked on any of the cars involved in that accident. How long has the car been reported missing? Where was it stolen? You’ve run the plates? Who does it belong to? Out of Des Moines? Yessir, I’ll check it out. Thank you, sir.”
* * *
Uh-oh…stolen car? Or cars? Or , waitaminnit…what was in the eighteen wheeler? Don’t know right now…plot’s getting thicker, ain’t it? And now Deputy Lew is going to Omaha to renew his “friendship” with that bad egg “Stick”…but what if Dorree doesn’t want to go along? Doesn’t want to see that convict…oh wait, he really wasn’t a convict, was he? Never did any time in prison…unless you can call basic training a ‘prison’? Ha, yep, to some it probably was, especially if you didn’t have any choice in the matter. And…will Dorree heed the sheriff’s request? Will she like it? Do you think Dorree’s…or Lew’s… friendly conversation is going to arrive at any conclusions for the Sheriff? Think Lew even has an inkling of what the sheriff is after? Think Lew is looking forward to going to Omaha with Dorree? Awwww man, don’t be ridiculous…’course he’s got his head all primed for that second base hit with her, especially after treating her to dinner in a fine restaurant…with wine and all…wouldn’t be a bit surprised if maybe that home run will come around a lot sooner than he thinks!
Maybe.
Well, s’pose you’d better park your butt alongside the story teller’s fridge next Friday nite, grab a paper cup, fill it with wine and stick around if you don’t want to miss any of this intriguing cereal…oh nuts…can’t seem to get that one spelled correctly – it’s a SERIAL! Oh, I’m not sure there’s any wine…or beer left…mite want to grab a couple of those throw-away boxes of wine…
C Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa,
R-
Copyright 12-2005, RAJetter/Aden Rush
“Bangin’ Gears & Bustin’ Heads”…the book, by R.A. Jetter describes a 16 year-old’s life in the late fifties up to the mid 1960’s…and what it was like to get into illegal drag races and fist-fights…it’s a series of 26 episodes, with each episode described in how and why, between each story. Vintage B & W photos are included-- a total of 208 pages.
High speed car stories set in the 1960’s.
Wanna know how it really went down back then? Wanna know what new ‘61 409’s, ’62 406 Fords ran like off the showroom floor? Wanna read about drag races, sock hops, real cruising and Premium gasoline? Wanna know how most of us spent our weekends back then? Wanna ride along with a lunatic?
If you do…this book will, at least, educate you to how it really was in the Midwest!
A personal, autographed copy is available at www.RAJetter.com (http://www.rajetter.com/) …or send check/ M.O. for $20.95 to: P.O. Box 440042, Aurora, CO80044.