More wheat. More money. Part-three

   Chapter-one part-three

  It’s hot. I should have just waited to go into town tomorrow. I didn’t think changing that tire on that tractor would take that long. I wish they would come out and grade this stupid road. It’s so rough. I mean, what are we paying taxes for anyway? Honestly? Well, and here’s a stupid cow in the way. I wish Clyde Mercer would put his cows up. “Hey, hey, get out of the way. Get out of the way. Come on, move.” The cow went across the dirt road and into the field, and so I continue on down this dirt road through absolutely flat nowhere, trying to get to town to get some kerosene for the lamps.
     I need to get these batteries charged so I can get them back on my radio. My radio’s been down for two days. As soon as I get these batteries charged, I’m gonna pop these suckers back in and crank that radio back on. Then we’ll get some news and I can see how much the wheat prices go for. I can’t believe I’m halfway into town and I haven’t even figured out what I’m gonna do with this bank guy. Gotta get this stupid clutch and gear. You know, Margaret told me. She told me not to get that tractor and to get a Model T. But I’m like, you know, this Model A is still working. We’re gonna make it, and here I am, fixing to break down.
     Ok. Just roll into town. Get my stuff done, and we’ll get back out there. Oh man, gosh, I gotta talk to that stupid bank guy. Dang. Oh no, that gauge is stuck. This thing is rusted up to pieces. It wasn't in the best shape when I got it Maybe I should have got that model T. Bam! Off to the left it's behind me oh no this car's falling apart We could make it don't think about it. I don’t know how far it’s gonna go. Okay. Bacon, right? Gotta get bacon. Margaret wants that coffee grinder. Bacon, charge the batteries, get some gas, get some kerosene, see what that baker wants. Okay, okay, I got it. Got it. No problem.
     I finally pulled into town, passed two old houses, and pulled up in front of the general store. I got out, went up onto the porch, and pushed through the screen door. Mike looked up. “Morning, Doug. How y’all doing? How can I help you today?” I said, “Can I get some help getting these batteries into the store? I need them charged.” Mike turned toward the back. “Yeah, yeah. Billy! Get out there and help Doug get them batteries out. Bring ’em around back.” I said, “Hey, you got a coffee grinder?” “Yeah, it’s on the second shelf there.” Mike looked at me. “Hey, how’s your wife doing?” “Ah, she’s doing great.” “That’s great, that’s great. You need anything? Bacon? Kerosene? Here, just give me your list.”
I handed him the list and he looked at it. “Did Margaret write this?” “Yeah.” “So much prettier than yours.” “That’s rude.” Mike laughed. “Just give me my stuff.” “So, Doug, you wanna hear a joke?” “Not really.” “You never go along with a joke.” “Just give me my stuff.” I looked around for a minute, then said, “Hey, you know anything about Mr. Dunlap?” Mike looked up. “Oh yeah, Mr. Dunlap. Owns the bank. Seems like an okay fellow.” I said, “Well, he came out to the house and he wants me to” I stopped. Gosh, I’m not supposed to say that. Mike looked at me. “He wants you to what?” “Never mind. You got any peaches?” “Yeah, we got peaches.” “Great. Give me a pound of peaches. And could you have Billy put all this in my truck?”
     Anyway, I got everything wrapped up there. Billy put all the stuff back into my truck, and the batteries were gonna take a little time. I stood there thinking, man, should I eat? I had made myself a turkey sandwich earlier. Or should I go straight over and see Mr. Dunlap at his fancy bank? I thought, well, let’s just go and get it over with.
     So I walked across the street, went up the block, and went into the bank. The place was pretty fancy compared to most of the buildings in town. The ceiling was high, and there were dark wooden counters running along the room with metal grilles over the teller windows. Brass rails shined along the counters. There was a big clock. A few men stood at the teller windows talking quietly. Everything was polished and neat.
     I walked up to the counter. “May I talk to Mr. Dunlap?” The clerk looked at me. “Mr. Dunlap?” “Yes.” He studied me for a second. “Is your name Douglas?” “It is.” “Yes, sir. Right this way.” A moment later Mr. Dunlap came out from behind the counter. He opened the little half gate and stepped through. “Douglas,” he said. “Mr. Dunlap.” He motioned toward the back. “Come with me.”
     I followed him past the teller windows toward the rear of the bank. There was a staircase there, and he led me upstairs. At the top was a narrow hallway and a wooden office with a glass panel in the door. Mr. Dunlap opened it, stepped aside, and looked at me. “Come in, Douglas.” I went inside.