Finding Ray 4

Looking for Ray got me back into looking for something else. Jim Dugger's pulpwood truck relit an old flame, "flung a cravin' on me" to borrow one of Jerry Clower's old phrases. I want one of those trucks, and l want one bad. Actually, I have for decades, but now the desire is overwhelming. 

Lately I have squirreled away a little money, and I'm ready and able to buy. When I mentioned purchasing one fifteen years ago, my wife reacted violently. When I mentioned it again the Sunday after I found Jim Dugger, she just said, "You don't need one of those."

My response was, "Trust me Baby, need's got nothing to do with it."

And it doesn't except in an emotional sense. I'm sure not planning on hauling pulpwood. That's too much like work. I just want to drive it around town, transport my dogs in it, and dare people to park near me at Walmart. I even want to drive it to work some and maybe to church. Since sweet Penny didn't pitch too much of a fit this time, I know I can get away with it; I can buy one without a major conflict. And why not? I mean, I don't want a sports car, and I can't pick up women in a ragged pulpwood truck so why should she disapprove?

It was the truck, Jim's truck, that not only got me determined to buy one, but it also loosened up Jim's tongue. Once I gushed over the old wood hauler, he started talking about the old days and how he met Ray and all sorts of stuff. He and Ray hauled together for years. They met in jail in Montgomery County back in the early '70s and became partners soon afterwards. According to Jim, pulpwooding was Ray's  favorite activity, besides drinking, fighting, hunting, fishing, trapping, and hitchhiking around the State. Ray liked a lot of things and lived like he did, like life was a gift that he couldn't get enough of. Jim bailed Ray out often because when Ray had money, he liked to go to honky tonks, drink beer, and start fights. Jim needed him running a chainsaw and helping load the trucks which put money in Ray's pocket which led to honky tonks which led to fighting which led to, well, you get the picture.

That answered some questions for me. I remember the '70s. I was there. Racial attitudes and relations were a bit different then. Strike that, a lot different. So now I knew how they became friends and how their common interests overrode the racial tensions of the day. And since the suspicion Jim had when I first drove up had melted away like the morning dew, I now felt comfortable enough to ask point blank: "Where is Ray now? Please, tell me if you know."

Jim gave me another long look before he began to speak again.