Once You Go Back. 20
Previously. After landing back in Georgia, Buckey had no time to rest or reflect. A trip to his hometown reinforced how little there was for him there. At the urging of his logical friend Glenda, he jumped into yet another huge life change. He’d keep a few city ties but leave his job and commit to developing MissK’s estate plans, living in her hometown, and starting a new life free of some past self-imposed constraints. CLICK TO TABLE OF CONTENTS
“They jes’ used a 6” x 6”, and a pickup to smash in the toolshed door. They got all the landscape equipment.” My previously shy, skinny crew leader showed me the crumpled damage that happened the night before.
There had been changes while I was gone. When I started here, I was an employee/manager from a company called Timeless Plantationscapes, which I now thought was kind of a snooty name. But MissK and Glenda had encouraged me to quit my job and come to work for MissK full time.
So now I was officially a new employee of Basinger Family Estate, LLC. Even though I’d been here, I felt like this was my first day as part of the crew.
Another big change was Cody. While I was away, Cody seemed to have broadened his shoulders. He was tan, and the refugee crew cut had grown out to a youthful blond inch. Somehow, it all made Cody seem like a man now. It was just after sunrise, 7 am, but he’d already taken charge and called the sheriff.
The smashed door and missing equipment, about 10,000 bucks worth, could have been a shit restart. But Cody, looking good and taking charge, made me feel like part of a team.
When the sheriff pulled up, they shook hands and Cody introduced me to the man in uniform. I’d never had any need to meet the local sheriff before.
“Buckey is going to start living on site now,” Cody explained. “He’ll be living in the little house behind the peanut barns. By hisself. That ought to prevent some of these kind of things.”
“Maybe you oughta get a dog, man,” Cody said, looking at me. Then he turned back to the sheriff, “He’s from over near Vidalia. He’s alright.”
The sheriff looked around a bit, asked us to make an inventory, and left. Cody said, “Well, it’s good the sheriff knows you're here now, and the place ain’t empty half the time. You know everyone knows when she’s gone wherever she goes.”
“Thanks for not saying I’m from Savannah and for trying to help me fit in,” I said. Cody smiled.
“Well, it’s a little town, not even a town, and we all grew up either playing or fightin’ together,” he elaborated. “Nobody here trusts nobody they didn’t grow up with. And it wouldn’t be good if they thought of you as a city boy. But you really aren't. My uncle said he knew your uncle.”
He didn’t finish his sentence with”‘in prison”. But bringing up my troubled uncle let me know that he’d asked around about me and knew something about my family.
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