Renewal 3 - Your Basic Swiss Family by Jf Perkins Read Free Book Online Page B

in the lead truck with a driver and a little guy in the middle. Dusty and Terry were ordered into the bed of the Judge’s truck, and were jostled to the back, while their three new bed buddies took the less windy spots right behind the cab. When the last of the men piled into the back of the second truck, the Judge yelled for the little convoy to head out.
    The Judge’s driver turned the key, and nothing happened. He turned it again... and nothing. The Judge was bitching at the driver, who got out of the truck with a ball peen hammer and went round to the fender on the Judge’s side. He whacked hard on the starter ten or twelve times, and then tried again. This time, the diesel clattered to life, and settled into a steady idle. Terry saw the driver pat the truck on the dashboard, like it was a pet.
    The second truck started without trouble, and they rolled away from the mansion. Terry wasn’t bothered by the wind blowing his hair in his face. He was suddenly getting truck rides left and right, and he decided there was nothing to do but enjoy it. Dusty, on the other hand, hunched low below his grimy baseball cap, and tried to ignore the men sneering at him from the other end of the truck bed. It only took five minutes to reach the turn, and another two minutes before the trucks rumbled to a stop in front of Teeny Town’s roadside guard houses.
    No one was visible, which Terry thought was surprising. He had expected a show of force by the community. The Judge’s men vaulted and climbed out of the trucks and made a ridiculous line across the front yards of the houses. It also looked rehearsed. Terry imagined these tough looking men taking “line up” classes back at the Jenkins farm, and smiled as he watched them standing there. The Judge noticed Terry and Dusty still sitting in the truck, and said, “Get up here, you two!”
    They took their time climbing down from the truck and took a spot on the left hand end of the line. They waited until the Judge stopped glaring at them, and took a step backwards. They were next to twitchy fellow who clearly hadn’t shaved in... well, his entire life. Terry looked for any bird nests in the man’s beard.
    The men were getting restless. Nothing was happening. No one had showed.
    The Judge finally ran out of patience, which really didn’t take long. He slapped the man next to him on the arm and said, “Get up there and knock on the door.”
    The man stepped cagily across the grass, and up the front steps of the middle house. He knocked on the door and stepped quickly to the side. Nothing. He knocked louder, and still nothing. The man was reduced to banging on the door, and almost fell into the house when Bill yanked it open. The line of men reacted to the sudden moment and a few guns were brought up, but they were trained well enough to stop when they could see that Bill wasn’t armed. He was dressed just like any working day; only a belt knife hung at his side.
    “Can I help you?” Bill asked politely.
    “Yeah, you can get off my land,” the Judge replied, as his man scuttled back in line.
    “And you are?”
    “I’m Jerry Doan Jenkins,” the Judge said, visibly puffing his chest out. “I have legal right to this land, all twelve hundred acres of it.
    “I see, Judge. You would know about legal rights, from what I hear.”
    “That’s right. I am the top legal representative in this county.”
    What a pompous windbag , Terry thought.
    “Hold on a second, Judge.” Bill said, leaning inside the door. Then he walked out, down the steps and right up to the Judge. “My brother will be out in a minute.”
    “Well, hurry up!” the Judge snapped.
    Bill looked up and down the line of men. “Quite a little army you brought, Judge. Are they deputies?”
    “Not that it’s any of your business, but they are my personal men.”
    “So, not legally imbued with any authority...”
    “They are imbued with my authority, and that’s all the authority they need.”
    “I see,”