Five Miles to Paradise

4

Barely two weeks had passed when Heck made a call to check Bud Rhemfields' place. It was a couple of miles outside of town. 

Bud and Beulah Rhemfield had not been seen for several days. A neighbor reported that his wife had dropped by to give Beulah a cake she'd baked.

"When Fannie came back to the house, she was all out of breath. Jack, she says, Jack, they's the smell 'a death about that place. I know the smell 'a death when I smell it, Jack. I ain't imaginin' nuthin'. It's for real. You call Sher'f Heck, 'n get him ovah there right this minute!

So's I called 'cause Fannie ain't like one of them high-strung women, ya know, Heck, always runnin' 'round like a chicken with their heads cut off. She got a level head on her shoulders. My Fannie has. I try to keep her off Rhemfield's place, but Fannie feels sorry for his wife.

Tries to carry her 'xtra eggs, onc't in awhile. It ain't like Fannie don't know that Bud Rhemfield is ornerier than a pent-up bull in matin' season. But Fannie's so gall dern mulish. Too dad-burn stubborn for her own good sometime. I could preach till the cows come home, but she feels it's her Christian duty to help out Beulah, every so often.

Bud's gonna fill Fannie's butt full 'a buckshot one day, but I can't convince Fannie to mind her own biz'ness, 'n leaf them Rhemfield's alone."

"I understand, Jack. I'll check it out. Don't be too hard on Fannie. She's a good woman. Just being neighborly."

"Yeah. I know. 'N I'm lucky to have her. Mule-stubborn 'n all."

"Take care, Jack. Take care of Fannie, too."

"I will. See you, later, Heck."

* * *

Most folks kept their marital troubles locked behind closed doors. Doing this kept what little pride they had in tact and allowed them to hold their heads up in front of their friends and neighbors.

But Bud Rhemfield was not like most folks.

Bud was about Heck's age, a year or so younger, but Bud had lived a hard life. To see him now, you'd almost think Bud looked old enough to be Heck's daddy, not because of any family resemblance, but because Bud looked so wrinkled and used up. 

He'd always been a hell-raiser and a brawler, but all the girls swore young Bud Rhemfield was the best looking boy that had ever been born. Heck often wondered if those girls were enthralled with Bud's looks or excited by Bud's antics. 

Moonshine, fast cars, and backseat loving were some of the things Bud was famous for. As a young man, Heck pondered why such fellows seemed to attract the popular, good-looking girls.

Why were those girls so fascinated with Bud? 

Did they want to tame him? 

Did they like the sense of danger that seemed to surround him? 

Back then, Bud seemed to be living on the edge. He was always scraping the last raw nerve of the Law, but he was only taken in for minor infractions. He'd spend a night in jail now and then, only to be set back out on the streets.

Nothing Bud did ever seemed to land him in real trouble though. The few times Heck hung out with Bud and his friends, they seemed just like Heck's regular pals, a bit rowdier, but it wasn't like Bud was Billy the Kid. 

Everybody snuck a swallow of hooch whenever they could. Everyone tried to get as far as his girlfriend would allow. So what made Bud so special?

Heck and his friends got into scraps. An eye was blackened, some knuckles bruised, but Bud Rhemfield's exploits always seemed make Heck and his pals' shenanigans pale in comparison. Compared to Bud, Heck seemed about as interesting as a four-eyed, buck-toothed, spiked-haired wallflower with two left feet at a third grade dance.