Don't Hog the Truck

True story about a fishing trip with dear old Dad.

Don’t Hog the Truck

Written by T. L. O’Neal

 

     Years ago probably around 1973 after Mom and Dad split-up, Mom and us boys were back living in North Carolina again. We were living in the old tenant house of Grandma’s out in the country. It was an old drafty and cold house in the winter and an oven in the summertime. We hardly ever heard from Dad, of course that wasn’t anything new.

 

   When we were living in Texas before moving here, we never really saw him then either. They were supposed to still be together but he never came home but once a week. It was on Sundays when he would drag himself in with a hangover and a week’s worth of laundry and would go to bed all day to sleep it off. On occasion he would get up and yell at us or walk through in his boxers while scratching himself on the way to the bathroom; a real role model for us boys. He always seemed to care more for his s****y girlfriends and drinking buddies than he ever did for any of us. I guess he probably should of adopted them because he sure wasn’t a father to us. But maybe he was a father figure to all of his buddies but I seriously doubt it, he was the same old drunk around them as he was around us, just nicer I would think. Some people just shouldn’t have kids. I’m not saying that he was a bad father… well, yes I am I guess. Around here you would say that he was piss-poor at it. He just never tried or just didn’t give a s**t, but I’m inclined to think it was a combination of both.

 

   Anyhow, he moved back to North Carolina later on after he retired from the Air Force. Then one day he showed up out of the blue in this brand spanking new, full-size, red & white, Chevrolet pick-up truck. I don’t know where he got it but he sure was riding in style that day. This thing had it all, chromed out, with air, the whole nine yards. I bet he was lucky to get six or seven miles to the gallon on that thing; not that it would really matter because he thought of himself as Mr. Big Stuff. You could see it in his eyes the pride that he had for that shiny new truck. It was a wonder to hold because we never saw that look before, not where we were concerned anyways. We usually always just saw the bad side of him if we ever saw him at all.

 

He came up to us and said to us boys, ”Boys, how would you like to go fishing?”

 

This seemed out of place, but we were up to the challenge for sure.

 

“Sure” we said, “Where are we going?”

“I thought we could go to Uncle Wilburn’s.” was his reply.

 

   Not knowing it then but knowing it now, we were just going to be bait for he could get into that crackerjack pond of Uncle Wilburn’s, being that Uncle Wilburn was Mama’s older brother. Since he was on the outs with Mama’s family after all he did and how he treated her, he really needed us to get back in good graces so to speak. So we got our stuff together and piled into the new, shiny truck that was his all consuming pride and joy. He had to have something that was his pride and joy because it damn sure wasn’t us.

 

“Be careful with the upholstery, be careful with this and that.” He sure was anal about that truck.

 

      So off we all go down the road towards Uncle Wilburn’s house. When we got there, he told us to stay in the truck while he went and talked to Uncle Wilburn. I can just imagine what he said too, how he was trying to be a good father and take his boys fishing and spend some quality time with us. That was a load of bull if there ever was any. Anyways, it must have worked because he got the keys to the gate because here we went again, this time down the old path. When we got to the gate, He unlocked it and drove through it and locked it back once we were through it with little fanfare. As he drove down that path looking all stoic and all, he must of felt like he owned the place. Now this old path cut right through Uncle Wilburn’s hog lot. He had a bunch of hogs too, not your run of the mill ones either. I’m talking about those big, hairy ones with the big teeth and the mean disposition. It was exciting for us boys riding through that hog lot too, watching those big mean suckers, it was just like Lion Country Safari or something to us. We didn’t get out that much you know.

 

    We made it to the end of the hog lot and the pond was just through the woods. While Dad shooed away the hogs as best as he could, we unloaded our stuff and headed through the woods to the pond as fast as we could. We made it to the pond and it was a huge and muddy hole of a place, it was a neat pond to our young eyes. So, we got what meager fishing equipment out that we had and started fishing. Dad was over there standing tall looked like he was a professional angler or something; he looked just like he was one of those guys on the cover of “Field and Stream” magazine. We were catching a bream here and yonder, a catfish or two, and we were having a pretty good ole time at it. When all of a sudden, Mark; he couldn’t have been more than six, hangs this big old grass carp and on a cane pole too. That old fish was bigger than my brother was then and it was a pretty shade of gold and just as shiny as that new truck on the other side of those trees to boot.

 

    Now he was fighting that fish as best as he could and it was so big that its back was sticking out of the water. I was sure it was going to stand up and walk right out of that pond and say “howdy,” that’s just how big it was. He was a fighting it and I could tell his little nerves were just about shot when that carp finally snapped that line, shook it’s tail as to wave goodbye and was gone. Mark was spent, we all were but it was mighty fun to watch. A little later it was time to go, so we got our mess together and headed back through the woods to the shiny new Chevrolet pick-up.

 

     As we made our way back through the thick woods, we could hear something that sounded a bit like metal. Dad was ahead of us and in a little while we heard something else, it was Dad cussing with words we haven’t heard in awhile and some we never had. Maybe those were just reserved for use with hogs, I didn’t know for sure because I never did ask him about that. Anyway, we got through the woods and there was the damnest sight I ever saw, those hogs had just about tore off every bit of that shiny chrome on his brand spanking new, red & white, shiny Chevrolet pick-up with all the extras. He tried to get shed of those big ole hairy hogs but they wasn’t leaving till they were good and ready… and they wasn’t ready. They were taking their snouts and rooting those strips of chrome right off of that truck. Metal was twisting and popping off with a metallic crunching sound. Dad looked like he was going to be sick, his pride and joy was being destroyed right before his eyes and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it either. It would of probably been easier on him if the hogs were after us kids but they seemed to have more of a taste for metal that day. Eventually they got bored with their little project and decided to move along being satisfied with a job well done.

 

       We got in the truck while Dad ripped off the remaining chrome that was just hanging on by a thread and he threw in into the bed of the truck. He took us home and no one dared to say a thing, not even me with my smart-a*s mouth. I tell you what, that was a long drive and he dropped us off and didn’t stick around or have that much to say either. It was a long time before we ever heard from him again.

 

    Years later when we were grown and wanted to continue our education, Mama was going to try to get out our college fund that they started years ago for us. Turns out that Dad cashed it in years earlier and that’s where he got the money for that new, shiny pick-up truck of his. It’s ironic I think, that he hogged up our future for a truck and the truck was done in by a bunch of hogs.

 

 

Reviews

[Ron Cole]

Golly, what a story! It's really sad, but, I gotta say, kinda funny also, especially when the reader has developed a good "mad" at your Dad for the way he had behaved at home and the way he treated you guys! That's kinda like some of the stories that we were talking about that would be passed around the fireside at the old Country Stores!! Nice storytellin, TL!

[David P. Eckert]

Nice easy feel to this story, and it's a bit of a parable in a way. The father being at once a drunk and a proud peacock of a man, caring about himself only, and ultimately getting his comeuppance for his pride and dishonesty. It would work well as fiction meant for late elementary school, both the language and the theme. Nice work.

[Michael Carr]

My ma would've loved this, she grew up in Shiner Tx (shiner boch, famous just for its beer lol).
very humorous really enjoyed it, a bit sasd though.

[Lorri]

The protagonist in this story is a real character and the reader wants something to happen to his truck from the moment we read about it. I feel a genuine sorrow for the boys. Your writing picks up the dialect and brings the reader into the life of these children. I don�t think you need to tell us that it is ironic. I love the last line and how the story raps itself up. But, give the reader the credit of knowing the irony. Your imagination is fantastic to come up with this story and showing how the father has pride in the truck and not the boys tells us so much about the father�s character. The way you structure your story is what makes the story work so well, it comes full circle.

[Krystal Waters]

Really good insight of your world. I could imagine you there by the pond and your brother trying to catch that fish. Funny or should I say How IRONIC! He showed off his brand new truck off to you like it was his own and then the hogs tore it apart. I'm glad the hogs did that. As far as your father, I hope he got sober! You have to realize that drinking is a disease.... maybe he got over it.

You became a great writer out of your experiences! I think the more we have to go through the more we can write about and show our expressive side in words. You did a great job doing that right here in this piece. Kudos!!!
Krystal

[Christy Hauck]

He had it coming! I hope you were still able to get a decent education after what he did.

[Mishel Rosario Reyes]

eeeeeeee

LOL ----mishel

[Antony]

I loved that story, especially if it was true. I'm sorry about the education part though. I guess he was just a hog himself. Good write T
Tony

[Gandré]

What a sad story. I guess, it's autobiographic. I don't really have practise in reviewing short stories. Thank you for sharing. I liked the style, it was easy to read. I liked this one very much.

[Jesse Lynn]

now, that's some karma for you.