Trappin’ Entra-manure

Trappin’ Entra-manure by Gary Benton
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Bubba was sitting on the front porch of his mobile home when I drove up in my pick-em-up. He didn’t get out of his old rocking chair as I parked and made my way to the porch. As soon as I had stepped out of the truck I was surrounded by a pack of mixed breed dogs. It sounded like they had something treed as I cautiously stepped up on the first step of his porch, noticing it gave a loud pop. A second later it let out a few slight snapping sounds as my weight distributed evenly on the step.

“Howdy Bubba. What’s goin’ on heah? Carol Lynn done told me y’all called and wanted to see me. She said is sounded like one of them emergencies and I need to hurry on over heah.”

“Gary, would ya like a cup of coffee, glass of ice tea, cola, or a beer?”

“Coffee would be great Bubba, since it’s about eight in the mornin’.”

“Maude! Maude!” Bubba yelled into the air. “Yea, Bubba?” I heard Maude’s voice answer from somewhere inside the mobile home.

“Gary’s out heah, can y’all bring him a cup of coffee? Please?”

“Sure, be right out!”

“So, Bubba, what is so important you needed to talk to me about?” I asked, and knowing Bubba, it was something strange. It always was. Nonetheless, I suspected it had to do with either camping or fishing, since his whole life evolved around those subjects.

“Well, I done got me an idea on how to make a bundle of money. I need a partner and you were the first person I thought of.” As soon as he had spoken, he gave me a crooked grin, leaned over the railing on his porch, and sent a brown stream of tobacco juice onto the head of a sleep beagle.

“Watch out.” I said to myself as soon as I heard Bubba’s comments, “there’s more to this.”

The door opened and out came Maude with a cup of coffee in each hand. Like many southerners, the coffee cups were sitting on plain white saucers. She handed one to me and one to Bubba, and then she said, “Did ya tell ‘em yet, Bubba Lee?”

“Hill far woman, I ain’t had time to say much of nothin’ yet. You know when men talk business we have to feel the other feller out a bit first. Ya don’t jess jump right in and start askin’ questions and dee-mandin’ answers.”

“Sorry, Bubba, I’ll leave this heah business talk to you fellers. I have some ironin’ to do anyways.” Maude had a silly grin on her face as she turned and made her way back into the mobile home.

“So, Bubba, what is this business you are a-thinkin’ ‘bout?” While I was speaking I leaned forward with both elbows on my thighs, coffee cup in my right hand, and my left hand was holding the saucer. I made eye contact with him to show he had my full attention, but inside I was concerned.

Bubba looked me in the eyes, took a sip of his coffee and then screamed like an insane man, “Maude! Maude! Y’all get back out heah! We need to talk.”

Instantly the door swung open and Maude stood in the doorway with her eyes wide and her mouth open. Bubba, took his cup of coffee in his right hand, extended it over the porch railing and dumped it all. I silently hoped the beagle had gone else where by now.

“Maude, this is instant coffee! I can’t stand that garbage! I thank instant coffee is right up there with instant grits!”

“Bubba, sweetheart, we are out of ground coffee. All I had was the instant. I told you three days ago that you need to go to the store for us and pick up a few things.” As soon as she had stated her view of the whole shooting match, she turned and went back into the mobile home.

Bubba raised his large behind, reached back, and pulled a pouch of tobacco from his right rear pocket. Opening the pouch, he took a large wad and placed it in his mouth and then handed the pouch to me.

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