Shelton Family Saga

Chapter 11

Alex Callie
June 03, 1968 - Sheridan, WY

"Eh, young blood, you still got some milk in that jug," Hoochie told the young fella standing at the gas pump.

"Yeah brother I know," the guy replied.

"Well, why're you putting that gas in there on top of that milk. You're gonna mess up ya lawn mower".

Alex laughed a little. He had a grin so wide it showed his whole front grill from canine to canine.

"Awe, this ain't for no lawn mower," he nonchalantly told Hoochie.

"Well, what the hell ya gonna do with it then?"

"Im'ma drank it."

"You're gonna what," Hoochie asked not believing his ears.

Alex said it again, "Im'ma drank it man. See that way when I git home and my momma git to swinging her belt or pulling switches off the trees, I ain't gonna feel a thing."

"Man, you 'bout crazy as hell. Who is yo' people?" Hoochie queried.

"Callie, man".

"Calliman?"

"Nooo. I'm saying it's the Callie's, man," Alex snickered.

"Where y'all from? Cause I ain't never heard that name."

"Oh, we from 'round here. You probably ain't heard of us, cause we ain't long been living in town. We were on the reservation with my daddy's tribe."

"Oh, I thought you had a funny look to ya. You ain't really look black. Yeah, I s'pose I can see it now. You got that Indian in ya."

Alex had a smooth caramel complexion and coal black hair that was short and tapered. He stood 5'9" in height with an average build and medium sized almond shaped eyes that gleamed full of curiosity about the world. He was a very spiffy dresser, as well as an avid enthusiast of jewelry, hence his wide grin of gold trimmed teeth replete with glistening diamonds.

"Yeah, my daddy's a chief."

"Where?"

"Big Horn County. It's right over the Wyoming state line leaving out of Sheridan. Lil place called Hardin."

There was a bit of an awkward silence. Hoochie was scanning his memory trying to recollect if he knew any Callie's, but he wasn't going to know any of Alex Callie's family members, cause Montana just wasn't his territory. The whole state was pretty much filled with Native American people, but even with Hardin being so close to the Wyoming border, it still didn't make a difference. He only ventured over to Sheridan cause his aunt and uncle used to talk about it often. They stayed in Miles City, Montana, but knew people from all over the state, including Wyoming.

"Eh man, that's my ride," Alex interrupted Hoochie's thoughts pointing toward a putty colored Volkswagen Beetle. "I got to go, but it was good talking to you," Alex said as he extended his hand out to shake Hoochie's.

"Awe shit, ain't nothing to it young blood," Hoochie responded as he shook Alex's hand.

He watched Alex walk away and get into the Beetle. As they drove past him, Hoochie could see a woman driving the car. At first, he thought it was a child as petite as she was, but it wasn't. Just who the fuck is that is the thought that wafted into Hoochie's mind.

She had the smoothest caramel color skin and shiny coal black hair. Her nose was long and narrow, but not too long, and she had medium size almond shaped eyes. Hoochie hopped in his Cadillac. For some reason he felt compelled to follow Alex and the woman driving the car. Who was she? His sister? Cousin? Girlfriend? If it was his girlfriend, it wasn't nothing to that. She would soon be HIS girlfriend, cause whatever Hoochie wanted, Hoochie got. He was twenty one years old now. It had been five years since some major shit had went down back in his hometown of Helmsville. Some major shit is what forever changed the trajectory of his life's path, and made all his dreams come true. Well, most of them. He had a Cadillac and major swag, now, and didn't have to ask anybody for anything. He was really somebody now. He was dark chocolate with average height of 5'10, possessed a medium build, small squinty, dark colored eyes and gleaming white straight teeth, except for the one gold tooth to the direct left of his front tooth. That tooth was an implant. His real one had gotten knocked out in a fight one mischievous night that he never told anyone about; and, he just secretly had it replaced with the gold covered implant. Most importantly, he was a man that stood on his own two feet. And, it would be that way for the rest of his life. He wasn't no punk. Never had been and never would be. He had gained the reputation of a wig splitter, and rightfully so. He felt he had been slighted in life losing him momma when he was still just a young boy. It was ever since that tragedy he had to make his own way and he did just that, so play around with him was something you couldn't do. Nobody even dared to try it. There were two cats you just didn't try. One was Big Star, the other was Hoochie.

So he wasn't worried about this young kid. Besides, he didn't know this Alex fool anyway. Just who mixes gasoline and milk, talking about they're going to drink it? Ol' crazy ass Indian boy, Hoochie thought as he shook his head in disbelief. When Hoochie made it onto the road, he could see them ahead of him. He started to catch up. He saw them turn at the corner, and followed suit. Trying to keep a low profile, he kept his distance, but after about 10 miles following them, his Cadillac started to slow down. He pressed on the accelerator, but it just got slower. It started to sputter, and he smashed down on the accelerator as the car began to jerk a little bit. At this point, he realized he had been so intrigued by Alex mixing gasoline with milk in that jug that he never filled up his car. He was out of gas, and a long way from where he started. SHIT! What was he gonna do? On the side of the road out of gas, how was he going to get anywhere? He couldn't call anybody. The nearest pay phone was back at the filling station.