Last week Red and I were headed into to town with Molly. Molly is a border collie and she is my dog. If Red calls Molly, Molly will look over at me to see if it's alright to respond. We were on highway 51 when we came over a rise we could see an old truck and trailer about a mile ahead in the borrow pit. There was high rib sheet metal all over the road and a big guy out there waving his arms. The speed limit here is 65 mph. I slowed down and Red said, "Aren't you going to help him?" I pulled into the borrow pit and hustled out there pulling sheet metal off the road. I saw two hay trucks come over the rise and worked faster. The hay trucks slowed down and we got the road clear before anyone ran over the mess on the road. Red tried to help load the tin but the wind was blowing too hard and she couldn't get it done. The big guy and I got the tin loaded, then he and Red started talking. Red worked at the Grandview Feedlot for years so she speaks the language of ranchers and farmers. Turns out the big guy was a rancher and he raised American bison. They traded stories and I stood in the borrow pit watching the cars and trucks go by. I was more enthusiastic about helping people in distress when I was younger. I remember once when Red and I lived in California we were traveling down highway 5 in a barren strip of interstate driving our old orange Volkswagen bug. We came upon an ancient white Pontiac, big as a boat, at the side of the road with the trunk open. There was a young woman standing there in a flowered sun dress. She was a knock out. Now to hear Red tell the story I almost wrecked getting stopped. I think that was a bit of an overstatement. I will admit that I did some pretty fancy driving getting stopped. I jumped out and walked up to this young beauty. She thanked me for stopping and told me her husband was in prison and she had no one to help her in difficult times. I swung into action. I grabbed that jack out the trunk and hooked it to the bumper and in a flash I was jacking that old car up. She moved close to me. She moved so close that I had to stop jacking and straighten up. She said in almost a whisper," I really appreciate your help." Then she leaned over closer to me and I knew we were about to share a great secret. I stopped moving. I even stopped breathing. She whispered, "The flat is in the front." I remember smiling weakly. My soaring soul came crashing back to earth. I was once again just a barefoot teller of tales. Life is good.
