The Sweepstakes

Bubba, my cousin, wins $10,000,000.00 from Publishers Clearing Barn

 

The Sweepstakes

© 2003, GL Benton

 

           

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.  It let out a slight snapping sound as my weight distributed evenly on the step.

            “Howdy Bubba.  What’s a-goin’ on heah?  Carol Lynn done tolt me y’all called and wanted to see me.  She said it sounded like one of them ‘mergencies and I needed to hurry on over heah.” 

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

            “Coffee would be great Bubba, since hits ‘bout 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.

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

            “Shore, be right out!” 

            “So, Bubba, what is so important ya needed to talk to me about?”  I asked, and knowing Bubba, it was something strange.  It always was.

            “Well, I done got me an idee on how to make a bundle of money.  I need a partner and ya was 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 thought 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 said, “Did ya tell ‘em yet, Bubba Lee?”

            “Hill far woman, I hain’t had time to say much of nothin’ yet.  Ya know when men talk business we have to feel the other feller out a bit furst.  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 ya 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 yer 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.

            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 elsewheres by now.

            “Maude, this is instant coffee!   I cain’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 tolt ya three days ago that ya needed to go to the store fer us and pick up a few thangs.”  As soon as she had stated her view, 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.  He then handed the pouch to me.

            I took a wad of the damp dark tobacco and placed it in my right cheek.  As I worked the cud, Bubba started speaking again, “Anywho, I got me an idee on a business from a-watchin’ some feller on the telly-vision.  Seems he grows rabbits and sells ‘em to the stores and such.  He has made millions of dollars offa rabbits.  Heck far, he even sells the skins to them coat makin’ cump-nees and such.  I figured if he can do hit, so can me and ya.  What ya say, ya in with me on this thang?”

            “Bubba, it’s the “such” I worry ‘bout.  We cain’t jess go off half cocked and start us a rabbit breedin’ firm.”   I was feeling a bit uneasy about the ease Bubba approached any business.  He likes to just jump right in and start kickin’.

            “Look, Gury, me and ya are the best rabbit hunters round heah.  Ya KNOW that.  How hard would it be fer us to set out some rabbit gums and catch a few.  Then, we put ‘em in cages and they just have litters.   Nothin’ to hit a-tall.”

            “Bubba, we don’t have livin’ cages, we don’t have rabbit food, and we don’t have a vet’naree-un to give ‘em shots and check ‘em out fer us.”   I leaned over and made a deposit of brown tobacco juice in the dirt near the porch.

            “We can build the cages, feed the rabbits carrots and tater peelin’s and why do they need shots and checkups fer.  We are gonna sell ‘em fer eating, not take ‘em to a rabbit show.”   As he spoke, I watched him scratch where it itched.

            “Bubba, any food has to be checked fer dee-seases and such.  We cain’t jess sell the meat.  ‘Sides, we hain’t even got a freezer to store the processed meat in. This hain’t gonna work a-tall Bubba.”  I leaned back in my chair and worked my chew to the other side.

            “Me and ya was raised a-eatin’ wild rabbits and squirrels.   Ya mean to tell me, they have to be in-spected for we can sell ‘em?  Shoot, wild food is the healthiest food out there fer man, woman, or beast.”

            “Bubba, I ain’t real shore, but I think we have to have cleanliness inspections, medical inspections on the critters, a business license, tax thangs done, and some other details done for we can go into that kind of work.”

            “Hogwarsh.  We will jess set ‘er up and go into business.  That was how this great country of ours started.  This free-ennerprise is what hits all about!  That’s why them pilgrim folks came heah to start with.”

            Just as I was about to confront him with the real reason the pilgrims landed in Amerika  I was saved by the mailman.  I grinned as I saw the small box shaped truck pull up to Bubba’s mailbox, because I have always thought the trucks looked stupid.  Bubba and I watched the mailman open the door to the rusty mailbox and slid some mail inside.  He then closed the door, put the truck in gear, and puttered on down the road to the next neighbor.

            “Maude, the mail is heah!  I’ll go a get hit fer ya.”   I jumped a bit as Bubba yelled to his wife.  Just once, just once, I wished he would talk in a normal tone to someone instead of screaming all the time.

            We both got up and made your way to the mailbox.  I noticed grass was about a foot tall under the box and the area was littered with rocks of various sizes.  Bubba slowly opened the door to the container and pulled the mail out.  I saw he had five pieces of mail.  

            As he sorted them in his dirty hands he spoke, more to himself than me, “Junk mail, ‘lectric bill, in-shore-ance bill, flyer from the hardware store, and…oh, my, what is this one?”

            I looked at the envelope he had in his hand.  One the front it stated, very clearly in red ink, “You have already won $10,000,000.00!”  I knew the company, Publishers Clearing Barn, and knew it was junk mail.  But, Bubba, stood there in total shock.  For many long minutes he didn’t speak and that’s rare.

            “Gury! I done won ten million dollars!  Gury!  Gury Lee!  I am a rich man! Now I can get a new used double-wide mo’bile home, a new 150 pick’em’up truck, and take Maude on a vacation to the Animal Kingdom and Campgrounds!  I am RICH!”  Bubba did a little jig dance as he screamed.

            I waited for the screaming and dancing to stop before I said, “Bubba, ya didn’t win a blame thang.  It is all a trick to get ya to buy magazines.”

            “Horse feathers! See, right heah hit says, “you have already won ten million dollars!  I already won it, son!” 

            “Bubba, read the rest of the papers.  It will state, somewhere in there in small print, if ywe see-lected as our grand prize winner.”  I let loose a stream of tobacco juice as soon as I had spoken.  I thought he was a-lookin’ like a fool.

            “Gury, ya jess hain’t got no faith in yer feller man.  IT SAYS I WON THE MONEY!  Let me open this thang up and show ya!”  Bubba tore into the envelope, moved the contents around a bit, and then screamed once more, “Dang!  Dang!  Looky heah, I even got me a check fer ten million dollars!  Maude! Maude!  We are rich girl!” 

            Before I could respond, Bubba tore off for the mobile home.  I watched as he ran up the steps of the porch and flung the door open so he could enter at full speed.  I knew that further conversation with Bubba was over for the day.   I put my hands in my pockets and made my way to the truck.    It was people like Bubba, Maude, and my old momma that gave that publishing company their business.  Now, most likely, Bubba would order a bunch of magazines he would never read.  As I got into my truck, I realized in his way of thinking, he thought had to money to pay for the reading material, after all, didn’t he just win ten million dollars. 

I started up my truck and went home. 

 

Four mornin’s later I was at Bubba’s at ‘bout nine.  As soon as I pulled up into his driveway, I saw him and Maude sitting out on the front porch.   I made my way to the porch and took a seat on the top step.

“Well, Gury, ya was right.  That check twernt no good a-tall.”  As Bubba spoke, I knew how much it hurt him to admit defeat.  He is a proud man, like most rednecks.

“Bubba, did ya finally read the small print after I left?”

Bubba didn’t speak for five long minutes and finally Maude said, “No, he didn’t read a dang thang.  He took the check down to the Flat River County Bank.  The idjet thought they’d jess hand over ten million dollars in cash.  The feller down there said the check wasn’t…wasn’t…how did he put it Bubba?”  Maude looked over at Bubba with confused eyes.

“He said it was non-nee-go-she-ble.  He said it was one of them fax-sim-a-lee’s and not a real check.  He showed me where it said all of that on the check.  It was way down on the bottom and the print was smaller than a skinny fly’s behind.  What kind of trash is all of this?  Huh?  I ask ya Gury?”

“Bubba, it’s all done to get ya excited and make ya thank yer a-gonna win the big money.  Do ya honestly thank if ya won ten million dollars, the notice would come in a let’ah?  Do ya thank they would send the announcement through the mail system?  Do ya think they would ask someone who jess won that kind of money to buy magazines?  Heck far, son, they would be heah with the telly-vision folks, noosepaper fellers, and the whole world, if Bubba Lee Claremore won ten million dollars.  Look on the bright side, ya didn’t lose in money in the deal.”

“Yea he did.  He done ordered twenty-six magazines from the cump-nee that sent the check.”

Bubba gave a sheepish grin and then lowered his head so we could not make eye contact.  He rocked in his rocker for a spell, then raised his head and looked around the barnyard.  I could see he was deep in thought.

“Well, not ‘zackly.  I done called that there mag’zine cumpnee and told ‘em I cain’t read, so they canceled my order.  But, since I was already on the phone, I did some business. 

At that exact moment two large eighteen wheeler trucks pulled up on the road next to Bubba’s mobile home.  I watched as a tall man, packin’ a huge beer gut, get out and made his way to the porch.  He looked at the metal clipboard in this left hand and scratched his head before he asked, “It is Bubba Lee Claremore’s place?”

“Hit shore is.  Y’all got my order with ya?”  Bubba rose from his chair as he acknowledged his name and I could see the excitement in is eyes.

“Ok, we found ya.  It took us a while to find yer place.  We’ve been looking since about six this morning.  How many Claremore’s on this road anyway?”

“’Bout forty of us.  All kin.  But, yer heah now.” 

“Ok, bub, where do you want us to unload?”

“I guess the barnyard heah will do fer now.”  Bubba said as he put his hands in his soiled jean pockets.

“Buddy, I cain’t turn fifteen thousand baby chicks loose in a barnyard.”  The big man spoke with a look of surprise on his face that Bubba would even suggest such a thing.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.  Me and Gury Lee will start buildin’ some chicken houses soon as yer done unloadin’.  Won’t we Gury?”

I didn’t say a word.  I just turned and walked away.  I still have no idea what happened to the chicks.  And, do you know something?   I don’t really care.  Bubba is one strange cousin.

           

 

           

Author's Note

Just for fun.