I'm Not Crazy

~19~ The New Deal

"I wish I was full of tacos instead of emotions." ~ Unknown  

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After what seems for forever the train finally goes away, off to where ever trains go. Buddy drives us over to the dirt lot off Z street that serves as the temporary home to Muerto Taco's Truck. Where Billy and I are released from the criminal cage for our last meal. Or in our crazy case, "Segundo Desayuno" or second breakfast. Which according to Connie is really the most important meal of the day.

Buddy tosses over his wallet to Connie with a wave off, and then immediately gets on the phone with my mother. While I can't exactly hear what Buddy is saying from outside the cop Bronco. Based on the tight smile on his face, it looks like he is pretty much doing the same thing I usually do with her. Make light of the situation and reassure her that once again all will be well in the world. You know, if we all just wish hard enough. I can see Buddy grim grinning like a gunslinger, and even chuckling a few times as he relates the events of the morning to my mother.    

After about twenty minutes later of waiting for our tacos, three giant-sized bags full of tinfoil bindles of chorizo greasy goodness finally show up. I have to admit that the tacos smell so amazingly good, I almost forget about everything else that happened this morning. I guess Billy was right after all? That tacos really were the right answer to all life's problems.

Buddy finally slides out of the driver's seat and comes around the back of the cop Bronco. Where he drops the tailgate, so that we have an instant picnic table. With me and Billy, as the guests of honor. Where we sit side by side on the lowered tailgate with a full rack of weapons within easy reach. Because I kid you not, it's like Sheriff Buddy has opened the armory door. Complete with a couple of tactical shotguns, a fully automatic assault-style MP5, and a 50. cal sniper rifle on full display.

Yep, just a couple of regular ol' crazy kids celebrating just getting kicked out of school for the day. Segundo Desayuno eating tacos and sipping Horchata in the shade! All with weapons stacked up on the gun rack right behind us, for all the world to see.

I mean it's not like we are actually holding the guns looking menacing, while we eating our hundred tacos of death nonchalantly. Thankfully, I have the presence of mind to take our picture with my cell phone. Because it was a moment I would love to have somewhere besides just my memory. Cause I'm definitely thinking that "Gunz and Tacos", would be a crazy cool name for a Tex-Mex Narco punk band? Or "Sams first school suspension", for the Crazy Family Christmas card collage? So I snap a couple of quick selfies of me and my monsters eating tacos.

After round one at the Muerto Taco Truck, I am stuffed and done with Segundo Desayuno. Billy and Connie have gone back for round Dos of death tacos and Horchata refills. Which leaves me and Sheriff Buddy alone with our thoughts. Which ends up starting one of the oddly most important almost-daughter/sorta-stepfather talks of our relationship to date. 

Buddy hitches his gun belt up slightly, clears his throat and starts slowly talking in his cool cowboy sheriff's drawl.

"I know that I am supposed to say something kind of wise right now? But for the life of me I can't really come up with much of anything besides ...best not to make this kind of thing a habit?" He adopts his awe shucks chagrin grin. "But then again, sometimes bad habits are good to have when you need them?"

"Because if some boy thinks he can try to take advantage of you? But then you pop him a couple of good ones to get his undivided attention? Well, I guess I am just not seeing the downside of that?" He muses wryly, then shrugs off the thought.

"Is that what you told my mom on the phone?" I inquire cautiously.

"Hell no." He snorts in retort. "Dealing with your mother over this mess is your job, Samantha. I just laid some of the groundwork for whatever story you're gonna try to tell her next."