Samuel Light, Spiritual Detective: The Shasta Caper
by John Pirillo
"Watch out!" Jimbo cried out as the four by four nearly struck a lone sheep grazing in the middle of the almost pitch black dirt road they were bouncing along on at eighty miles an hour. Jacob floored the truck and skirted around the sheep, who just kept on eating, as if nothing had just happened and it had almost become lamb for the dinner plate.
"Damn sheep is always getting out."
"Hoover?" Jimbo asked.
"Who else. Too dumb to suck its own Momma's titty, so does that surprise you?"
"Nope." Jimbo replied.
Samuel smiled. It was just like going home again to his childhood. Even though he had grown up in a suburban area, still his late teen years had been spent with Granpa Evans and his kids. Granpa always had all his grandchildren on the ranch, either playing or helping and sometimes both. Kicking hay into the barn loft, shearing the sheep for wool, feeding the cows, brushing the horses down before they went into their stables at night, repairing broken ropes, leather gear, shoes and on and on. Fond memories. Hard work, but all in good fun. Good hard work is not a bad thing, Samuel thought as he mused about the past. It's dirty hard work that corrupts the mind and soul. He finished with.
And that's what God seemed to have laid out for him to do, clean up the corruption, save the weak, help the helpless. And sometimes, unfortunately, help a few of the incorrigibles on their merry way to hell. Or what they thought was hell anyway.
Samuel knew better, but he didn't want to think about it. He didn't savor the more violent side he had to deal with at times, but sometimes he had to use force to meet force, as unpleasant and unsavory as that felt to his soul.
The truck skidded several feet, and Jacob yelled like a madman. "Sonuva bitch, Mabel, you gotta do that, don't you. Don't you!" He screamed joyfully.
Jimbo looked over at Samuel and shrugged. Little brother was written all over his shrug.
Samuel's grin vanished when Jacob swore as loud as a thunderstorm and hit the brakes. They slid forward about twenty feet and stopped just inches shy of a barn door that had been left open and had decided to swing into their path at that moment. A very pretty young lady stepped into view, coughing from the dust the truck had stirred up, then come around as Jacob jumped out.
"You coulda greased my bumpers!"
"What a sweet thing to say to a sister, Jackie?" She said in a very smart Southern accent.
Samuel and Jimbo climbed out and Jimbo went over to her and gave her a big hug, then swept her over towards Samuel. "I'd like you to meet my very best friend, Sammie."
"We've met." She drawled, but put her hand out anyway.
She gave him a coy look. "Not afraid of another Whammy, are we?"
Samuel sighed, then took the hand.