S.W.A.T. me, baby!

I’m starting to really like Tehachapi. Last night, we had another broo-ha-ha emanating from a neighboring ranch. Leo had just put in ‘The best of Monk’. A tapping at our front window makes us all turn around. We’re not much on drapes or curtains. Mainly because we don’t have any. A teenager is gesturing to me to come to the door. Our dog sleeps on in front of the wood burning stove. I nudge his ass on my way to the door for some back up. He thumps his tail and ignores me. I ask the kid to step inside since its 34 outside. He has no time for pleasantries. “My mom just stabbed my dad and is beating him as he lays on the ground with a shovel!” I hand him our wireless phone. Now, as hes’ on the line with the Sheriff’s, my mind races on the correct etiquette for such a situation. After a brief conversation, the boy hangs up. He informs us he’s to wait at our house. I offer coffee or tea. Pat hands him a jacket…I try for a conversation. Oh brother. A mistake. They’re Chippewa. It’s going to be his moms third felony for spousal abuse. He’s just arrived from…I can’t go on. It’s too horrible. Lets just say I forget all about Monk and slip my coveralls back on over my pajamas. Adding my hammerless .38 snub nose in my butt crack. We await the troops. As we wait, a thick Tule fog comes creeping in like a scene from the ‘Crawling Eye’. Soon, we can’t see past our porch…Its about nine p.m. when the first units arrive. We can’t see them, but we can hear the doors slamming and voices. Leo, Mr. Helpful, yells out, “Hey you guys, up here!” I choked off the rest. Soon, dim glows of approaching flashlights advance. About twenty five of them. Rick, the tent boy, winks his flashlight their way to help them out. They want to talk to the boy…These guys couldn’t find Joe Louis in a bowl of rice. THREE hours later, they find her in the chicken coup, right next to her house. They search my place, FOUR TIMES…The fog was cool though. Some of those cops didn’t come down off my mountain until one am. We could hear them on there radios every once in awhile. “Ah, still looking for the road, over!”…At least their search dogs were smart. They wouldn’t go up behind our house. Too many bear tracks…Oh, she’s already home as of ten this morning. Pat wondered if she should take over some cookies. I took her down with a Spock neck pinch…

3 thoughts on “S.W.A.T. me, baby!

  1. Welcome to the country. LOL. Not long after moving to the country a neighbor shot another neighbor and buried him next to the Kern River. Grave was too shallow so body was found. Yea, new rules apply here.

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