Toad Lick, TX. Pt 3

PART III
This morning, while I was sitting in the coffee-shop, one of our local “characters” came in. He’s a former over-the-road truck driver, meaning he used to go all over the United States, and maybe even Canada. Leon is a smallish man, in his middle 60’s with long greasy iron-gray hair. He has beady close-set eyes that always seem a little watery and he seems vague, like he‘s not really home, just left the lights on and the door open. He mumbles. A lot. I have trouble understanding him, but one thing about him I never had trouble understanding was that he had this habit of going out on the road in a shirt and a pair of pants, and not taking any other clothes with him at all. Well OK, maybe a coat, too. He said he was out there to make money, not to waste time doing all those unnecessary things like stopping to bathe or change clothes. He would go out for three weeks at least, sometimes more than that, without the benefits of a shower or clean clothing. I checked with some of the other truckers I know and have it on good authority that every time you fuel your truck, the truck-stops will all give you one free shower. It seems that at least all the big truck-stops out there have showers in them. Leon doesn’t care, he’s out there to make a buck. So, when he comes in, his wife, Ramona, makes him strip off his clothes in the back yard. She then burns them in an old BBQ grill she’s kept for just that purpose. The only hitch to that plan is that when he was driving, Leon loved to stop for coffee. The other patrons wherever he went, after the third or fourth day on the road, could smell him coming I would imagine. Before he hit the off ramp, probably.
The way I got to know about this little quirk in his routine, was one afternoon a few years ago, I was out driving around town, about 4 O’clock in the afternoon when the Sheriff’s Dept. dispatcher called me on the radio, and said that there was a disturbance at the coffee-shop, and that I needed to get over there right away. When I got there I found out that the disturbance was good Ol’ Leon, who’d just rolled into town, parked in the back of the place and decided he wanted a cup of coffee while waiting for Ramona to pick him up. Maria met me in the parking lot. From what she said, he cleaned the place out in about 15 seconds and her waitress, Karla, ran out the back gagging after she served him his coffee. Maria wanted Leon OUT of her place! And right NOW! I’ve never seen Maria get so upset and she wouldn’t go back in there till he came out either. Bemused, I went on in to talk with Leon. I walked through the door, turned right to get a cup of coffee, then kind of strolled back to where Leon was sitting about halfway back in the deserted room. I had noticed a rank, musty odor when I walked in the door and the closer I got to Leon, the more intense the odor got. I made it back to his table, and forgetting all about my coffee, which was probably tainted now anyway, I sat down. “Howdy Leon.” “Hey, Boo,” he responded. I asked, “Whatcha doin’, Leon?” he replied, “Just waitin’ fer Rmumble.”
I took that to mean he was waiting for Ramona. “Just get into town, did ya?” “Yep, mumble-mumble, three weeks, mumble something else.” “Oh,” I said, “Hey, Leon? Did you notice a really bad smell in here?” He glanced around, “ Smell? Mumble something about clogged nostrils.” I just bet they were clogged. Probably burned out. I know my nose was running, and my eyes were watering by this time. I decided to just throw it out there, and go for broke. “Leon, when was the last time you had a bath?” He looked at me with his beady, watery little eyes, and said, “When pap put in a shower, I reckon I was about fifteen, why?” I almost choked on that one. I was feeling a bit like gagging by now, anyway. “Leon, when was the last time you cleaned up? You know, got a shower? Changed clothes? Used deodorant?” “Oh, just -mumble- I took out. Why?” “Oh, never mind. Leon, I was just wondering. You left on this run, what, a month ago?” He replied, “Yep, somethin’ ‘bout like that.” OK, I thought. We’re making progress here. “You haven’t cleaned up at all in all that time?” Leon said, fairly clearly, “ Ain’t no time for all that, I’m out there to make money! Plenty of time to clean up when I get home.” By now, I’m thinking “Lice!”, or maybe “Crabs!” I’m kinda scooting my chair back to a safe distance. Trying for the life of me to remember how far lice can jump. “Leon, I got an idea. Why don’t we get you a Styrofoam cup, and you can wait for Ramona outside? I'll wait out there with you” That sounded like a fine idea to him, so I set him up and escorted him out the door. Maria and Karla ran back in, started spraying Lysol around the place, opened both the front and back doors and set up a fan to air the place out. I waited out front for Ramona with Leon, sitting on the hood of my cruiser. She got there within about fifteen minutes. I told her what had happened, and that she needed to pick him up right away from now on, and told him to call in advance and let her know when he’d be here. Ramona was upset at the reaction everyone was having to her husband. I guess love is not just blind, but has no sense of smell either. Now Ramona is originally from Upstate New York, near Rochester I believe. She moved down here about 30 years ago with her ex-husband and 3 kids. Ramona says she was a nurse in New York, but she retired from a janitorial job in the high-school here. It’s the only job I’ve ever known her to have. She’s about 4 feet 10 inches, weighs maybe 85 pounds, and just kinda washed out looking to me. She’s into everyone’s business, given half the chance. She’s very loud, very outspoken, and very opinionated. In my mind, I always thought of she and Leon as two hillbillies, 1 from Texas, and 1 from New York, destined to meet. They are made for each other. After she gave me a good tongue-lashing for throwing her “Dear Husband out of the coffee-shop, like some old piece of spoilt garbage!” She loaded Leon into the back of her pickup, and in a swirl of dust from the Caliche’ parking lot, was off. I stood there, in the dust, bemused, waving bye-bye, and “Ya’ll have a wonderful day, ya hear?” I called the Sheriff’s dispatch to let them know I’d be inside on my cell phone, and went in for a well deserved glass of iced tea.
©F.Pierce