I'm to old too be scared - Old dogs sometimes bite!

A short story about someone who has had enough.

I’m too Tired To Be Scared.
Old Dogs Sometimes Bite.
J. Swaney

 

 

Well... They said they want me to write up a statement. I don’t understand why but that’s what they want so that’s what they get.

I never have been much of a writer. I never have needed to be. And even if I were a writer I would never have dreamt in a million years that I would be writing out a statement, (that’s what they call it, I call it a confession..) explaining why I blew a 23 year old State Trooper to hell and then drove myself to the station house to let them know what I’ve done.

I guess the best place to start is to tell you a little about me. I’m 67 years old. My wife passed when I was 58, and the cancer made her and I both wish that she had gone on home when I was 55 or 56.

There are lots of big fancy words and terms to explain it all, but I’m a pretty basic guy and I’m telling this tale so I just tell it like I see it. First the cancer got to her right tit, the b******s carved on it three times before they just cut it off. Not 8 months after that they did another check up, found another problem and cut the left one off too.

Then as if that weren’t enough they decided that a little chemo was in order, just as some icing on the cake.

She didn’t want it. The doctor said it was the right thing to do. In 38 years of marriage I have never insisted that she do anything.

God rescue my soul from the pits of hell because I insisted on it, and she being the good woman and wife that she was, she buckled.

I watched her loose weight. I watched her vomit from one end, and s**t from the other. I watched her hair fall out in clumps and her beautiful eyes go from blue to gunmetal grey.

I listened to that piece of s**t doctor tell me how she was going to get better and how we were passed the worst.

Sixty days after the poison, when her hair was beginning to return, I listened to that same quack son-of-a-b***h doctor tell me how the cancer was now in her guts and there was nothing he could do.

Later I buried her. She looked like a monster. My wife had been dead for a long time and I just had been too stubborn to bury her.

I took early retirement then and since our little house was paid for I didn’t think I had too much to worry about.

She wasn’t in the grave 6 months when I got a letter from the city telling me they were taking my house for a new road. They gave me 12 thousand dollars.

I went and rented a small apartment.

I parked and watched as our home of 35 years was bulldozed. The saddest I have ever been in my life was seeing the tree in our back yard ripped out by the roots. We planted that tree together and buried three dogs and two cats beneath it throughout our years together.

I decided to go back to work. No one would hire me.

I backed my truck into a post. I couldn’t afford to have it fixed.

I lived on my Credit Cards. I couldn’t afford the payments. Bill collectors began calling. I had the phone disconnected.

Ok… enough of the boring stuff. Lets get to the gooshy part. No one gives a s**t about any of this anyway. They just want to know why I popped that f*****g trooper.

That’s the part they want to read and that’s the part that we’ll get to now.

The answer is…

I guess there is no answer.

I’ll just write what happened.

I left Tipps’ Bar and Grill about 6 that evening. Happy Hour is over then. I’m not much of a drinker but they have some free eats from 4-6. So every Friday night I go up and drink two beers. Costs about 3 dollars and while I’m drinking them I eat free beans and franks, chicken wings, and fried mushrooms.

As I left it was beginning to get a little dark. I’ve made the trip every weak for almost a year and I know the way. For whatever reason I didn’t have my headlights on. Well the reason was it didn’t seem dark enough to need them.

So I pass this cop car and he spins around behind me, I can see him in the mirror.

As soon as his lights come on I pull over.

I’ll admit I was in a bad mood. I had no idea why he was pulling me over. Well … Anyhow, as he comes up to the car. I’m thinking how I must be getting old because this kid looks young enough to mow grass for a living, and I’m surprised that he is actually allowed to be a Trooper.

.

“Do you even have a driving License?” he asks me.

“Well of course I have a license, I was driving when you were in diapers.” I respond.

His face gets a little red and I can tell that I’ve pissed him off. I didn’t mean to. So I decide that I better cool it.

“Was I speeding?”

“Nope.” he says.

He doesn’t say anything else. He just holds his hands out for my license and other paperwork.

“Why did you pull me over?” I ask.

I’m a little annoyed. All I want is to be told why I’m being pulled over. I have no time or patience to play 20 questions or be bullied.

“This is the way it works old timer. I ask the questions and you give the answers.” replies the kid in a grown up uniform.

“I would like to have your name and badge number. You are not going to talk to me like this. Why if I we were 15 years younger I would put my foot in your a*s, take hold of your ear and march you right home, we would see what your parents have to say.”

His face got white. He was pissed, and so was I. That’s when things went from bad to worse.

“You wanna piece of me you old b*****d! People like you make me sick. I want you to step out of the car right this instant!”

The way he shouted this scared me. I’ll admit I was scared. I hate being scared. Being scared pisses me off. And when I get scared and pissed my hands shake, and my eyes water.

“Look at you, you pathetic old ‘mother f****r.’ You gonna cry now? Well it won’t do you a bit of good. GET OUT OF THE CAR NOW!” He bellowed.

I have never been so furious in all of my life. That’s when something changed inside of me. I wasn’t scared anymore. I was calm. I decided that the way to deal with all of this was to just give him my papers and then alert his supervisor.

I reached over and opened my glove box. The lid fell open and I knew he could plainly see the revolver that I keep there. I have kept it there for years. I had completely forgotten about it. When he saw it he drew his pistol and pointed it at me.

It was less than two inches from my head.

It’s funny but I wasn’t scared then either. I was scared watching my wife die. I was scared watching my home be bulldozed. I was scared when the bill collectors called. I had been scared pretty much all the time for years. But now I wasn’t scared.

I looked in his eyes as he looked at me. I could see the tremble in the barrel of his gun. It occurred to me that he might shoot me right then. We both heard the sound of another vehicle coming and I watched his eyes look up.

With a strength I didn’t know that I had, I grabbed the door handle and pushed as hard as I could. He fell down and slid into the ditch. I grabbed my gun. It popped free from the holster.

In the blink of an eye he was lying in the mud and I was standing over him.

I spoke and the voice that I heard didn’t sound like me at all.

“Now let’s just settle down a little. All I want to know is why you pulled me over.”

As he began to laugh my blood began to boil. He lay there on the ground. Mud all ever him. Gun off to the side.
.
“You don’t need to worry about why I pulled you over, you f*****g old b*****d. You’re going to jail for the rest of your f*****g life. Now put that f*****g gun down and get on your knees.”

It was like someone flipped a switch and I could see a new reality take shape in his eyes. I can see now that he really thought I would do it. He knew it before I did, his face whitened.

“It’s just not your day you little punk.” I said.


I shot that b*****d 5 times. Then I walked over to my car re-loaded and shot him 6 more.

Then I drove to the State Police Barracks and told them I killed a cop.

You know what? I’m not even sorry. I did the world a favor. Now the world can do me a favor. Feed me, doctor me, and house me, or kill me. I don’t even give a s**t. I’m too tired to be scared.
 

Reviews

[syriascat]

Great story ! It had me hooked to the end .


reagards
syriascat