Gray Can Be Just as Black
as White
By Ann Davie
No one is always right, although some people are always wrong. Dave Hedges firmly believed this, especially with regard to Ed Singleton.
“Five will get you ten that it’ll take twenty-three gallons to fill ‘er.” Ed straddled the gasoline hose as if he were holding his dick and filling the tank of his beat up Chevy himself. His pick-up truck had once been “cherry red metal flake”. The two of them had painted her one summer. The finish had been buffed and polished and felt like cold satin. Ten or more years on, the weathered panels now held the same patina as the dozens of beaten barns around Cascade Cliffs.
Dave wiped his hands on a black rag and shoved it into the pocket of his equally black coveralls. He looked over at the old Subaru he had been working on and said plainly, “Twenty-one.” He knew that it would take twenty-one and a bit. Ed never failed to pull in shortly after the dummy light came on. Sometimes he let Ed win by saying more or less. He had to keep the game alive.
The pump ticked over, releasing petrol fumes in the August heat. Twenty-one point forty-five. Ed was living dangerously.
“Geez. You got me again. Still … filling cars for a living, you’re probably an expert on reading gas tanks.” Ed knew this was just the sort of thing that would get under Dave’s skin.
“I’m also a deputy from Friday to Sunday and I saw how fast you pulled in here. That wasn’t any thirty miles an hour.” Dave rifled around for some change as Ed peeled off a couple of twenties.
“I dunno, Ed. I’m starting to think that maybe with these shootings in schools and all that maybe it’s not such a good thing to get kids involved.”
“Don’t tell me you’re going all Democrat on me Dave. I’ve got the right to bear arms, and I’ve got the right to defend myself if I need to.”
“Well, actually you don’t Ed. If you shot and killed someone, even if they threatened you, you could still be charged with any number of offenses, including murder. So it’s not as cut and dried as the right to defend yourself.”
“I still have the right to carry a gun.”
“Not really a right. I mean, there are restrictions and you’ve gotta pass security checks and have a license.”
“OK, so I have earned the privilege…” Ed pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to keep exasperation at bay.
“Well, I mean what kind of a place are we living in where it’s a privilege to cart around something that can kill another person?”
“I could carry around a house brick. That could kill someone. What’s the difference?”
“You can’t build a house with a pile of shotguns.” Dave fought to keep his poker face in place.
“You always do this. You gotta play the smart-ass and show how I’m stupider than you. Then tell me this…why is it that you’re still pumpin’ gas and I’m now head fitter at the plant?” Ed kicked the dry gravel as his shuffled to the driver’s side.
“I don’t know why you’re so upset, Ed. I was just telling it like it is.”
The two of them stood looking at each other while the cicadas sang their reedy songs and the sun baked the afternoon dry.
“You know your rule books, I’ll give you that. But do you actually believe in those rules?” Ed leaned back on his truck.
“’Course I do.
What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re sworn to uphold the county, state and federal laws…and when it
comes down to it, the Constitution, right?”
“Yeah, but…” Dave wavered, not certain he liked or even knew where the conversation was going.
“No buts. So you’re supposed to look after us all by picking off the ones that go bad using a set of rules you had nothing to do with making.”
“Well, that’s not how I’d put it. Is this about giving Joe a warning last weekend? I had to do it, you know. He shouldn’t have been in the school parking lot after nine on a Saturday night.”
“No, it’s not about Joe…although you know damn well what we got up to when we were his age. The point is, you’ve got to follow someone else’s rules. Not your own.”
“They are mine…and yours. Everybody has to use the same rules, so what’s the problem?”
“The problem is that you’re not just living by the rules, you’re seeing to it that everybody else does, too. At least Fridy to Sunday.”
“Somebody has to.”
“But do you even believe in those rules? That’s what I’m trying to get at. You say you uphold the Constitution, but you can’t because there are other rules or laws that put so many if’s, and’s or but’s in the way as to make parts of it useless. At least the parts about owning a gun and defending yourself.”
“Is this about the gun show
thing? I don’t care if you go, all I’m saying is that I don’t
think they’re the best place to take a teenager.”
“It’s not the gun show. It’s
about you. I may be ignorant of the
laws, but I know what I believe in.”
Ed climbed into the cab, slammed the door hard, stepped hard on the clutch and cranked her over. The truck kicked to life with a rusty cough.
“It’s just easier to know the rules and not worry about believing in them, I guess.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what worries me. Not you necessarily, but those with more blind faith than common sense.” Ed leaned further out the window as he rolled away. “By the way I let you win. I know damn well how much this tank holds. Just figured you needed a bit of excitement in your life.”
Ed pull out onto the highway, ignoring the “No Left Turn” sign as he always did.
Dave still believed some people were always wrong, but maybe Ed wasn’t one of them anymore.