THE FEED

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Perch, Ronnie Shane and Jeff were some what good friends. They drank in the same bars when not driving with a convoy of truckers. These three men stuck together all the time. Now here they were coming to a rest in Avonmore at this fabulous food eating joint. This restaurant is the first stop  the convoy is schedule to take before the long drive reaching Quebec and unloading the same night.   So rest up boys, well deserved.

it was close to twelve noon when the convoy of trucks,  came to a stop in the small town of Avonmore . . .They were on their way to deliver a big corporation company across the country. And right now the men were starving, tired, needing to go to the bathroom, numb bums and just wanted to get out of the tucks and stretch their legs.

In the one truck there were three men who made this trip several times before, always stopping here at this dinner. Ronnie Shane was the driver of these three. He weighed a good 235 lbs. he stood about six-foot-two.  Perch Bard two hundred and forty pounds, big as an ox . . .Leaving Jeff Bruce. 165 pounds and stood five-eight, he was their wild cat. Nutty as a tree top.

These three friends worked, moving family’s all over Canada for the last six and one half years, together, always stopping here.  Now here they are again,  this time with thirty other men, all wanting eggs, bacon, toast, orange juice, slices of tomatoes, one lettuce leaf, and three wedges of an orange. of course some of the men were allowed up to two beers. Should a driver be caught drinking beer he would be let go right there at the dinner.  Ronnie would be responsible for this weeding of rule breakers. So far up to this day no man ever stood against him. None dared.

That their big rig was the last to pull in, the three men were not out of their truck and across the road with the 30 other men, who would be served first,  making the wait for their food order to come last. No bother though, these guys often ate last, but for several reasons.

  • Allowing the other men a longer break.
  • Lagging behind making sure the convoy was safe and together.
  • And sitting in the truck debating a topic of choise.

Sometimes this little settlement took five to ten minutes. Perch never made the hungry tired men sit and wait, he made sure they knew to stop, get rest, eat, relax and be ready to leave when him, Jeff and Ronnie were finished. They were always last out of the parking-lot also making sure all the trucks were back on the road.

Right now Perch is trying to get Jeff and Ronnie to come to some sort of agreement because he could hardly wait for his special meal he always eats here. Noodles sitting in juicy Welsh rabbit and green beans . . .But here he is sitting and listening to Jeff prove to Ronnie, that the new sound system he put in the cab of the big transport can over justify the sound  putting out [WELCOME TO THE MACHINE-by PINK FLOYD]. And all three men, could clearly hear both speakers,  pouring out the loud music. And if you liked the song you would have Loved to hear it played in this truck, on these speakers and with these men.

While this was going on in Perches cab,  the thirty men started to cross over the road talking to each other,  funning jokes,  and blabbing about what each was going to sink their teeth into.  These men were hungry.

P.S . . .This happens to be the same caravan of trucks Cleveland came across when he went into the town to see just what Barb was talking about. Of course all he saw was empty trucks and found little Sarophia in a root cellar. everything else was red dust. No other life. He was glad of his bees, though, he Loved his bees.

But right now the hungry men were funning each other and glad to be standing, while Perch and the other two men were Still busy in the transport for now. Soon all the men were nearing each other and the road-way, ready to cross over and relax.  Jeff and Ronnie both climbed down out of the truck leaving Perch to hunt for his wallet. he is always looking for his wallet.

Hey . . .One of the men pointed  up to the sky . . .Look at all the white butterflies. all the men with=in ears shot,  looked towards the heavens. as other men questioned what was so important to stop the movement of the men in front of them.

Now all the men watched the sky . . .Hot white flutters lined with the softest touch of red hovered above them. All was quiet for moments, until  Ronnie broke the salients. What the Jesus.   Scores of these beings waited feet from their heads in the air.

Six razor-sharp teeth on top and six razor-sharp teeth on the bottom. A purity of red glow emanated from what seemed to be the center of this thing, and a freighting red deep in the back of the mouth, it body tapered down into a point. Two arms hung down stopping with three sharp claws, and the ends of these, were red balled tips. The whole body was about a foot long . . .Some of the men and Jeff did not agree to these being butterflies at all and said so. while still others,  made noise as to what they thought this was,  others did not care,  they were that hungry not to care.  Ronnie called out to the guys . .  .Okay get a move on boys . . .Get that food into ya’s, some of us work around here.

Seconds had passed when Perch finally found his wallet and started on his way,  out of the truck . . .That is when everything went red as hell and the most painstaking screech put all the men to the ground holding tight to their ears, happened. Perch let go og the handle and could see the men drop almost at the same time, and that is where they stayed. Perch yelped when a bang hit the other door of the cab. It was jeff.  Blood was running out from his left nostril.  Another flash and one more deafening screech. Jeff did his best to climb up into the cab, but not without the aid of Perch. The other men still screamed whilst doing their best to block out the noise and had no luck. Perch slammed close the door and gave a swirl of the volume button keeping his eyes shut tight. Jeff pulled out one ear-phone as blood trickled out and he crunched his body into a ball of the front seat. Perch started up the engine pulling on the clever making as much noise as he could, then fumbled putting his sun-glasses on, backing out of the parking shifting into drive and got out of there just as the third blast of red filled the sky and the deafening ear-splitting, drum killing screech, tore open life. Red whips of dust drifted up-wards and the men were no more and Perch drove like a son-of-a-gun to the big city, while Jeff slowly stopped any movement and just bled from his nose and ear. 

back on the edge of town,  Although Perch could not see it . . .A lone bee buzzed by as all life died.  Blood ran down out from Perch’s left ear.

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