About the Author: Allan Durand was the winner of the 2012 Motion Picture Academy Nicholl Award in Screenwriting.
Danny couldn’t believe what he was hearing. But then, knowing what a mean jackass Brick was, he had to.
“Buddy, Brick can’t get anybody fired, especially you. The sheriff wouldn’t fire you if you shot somebody.”
“He said, Danny. He said he’d fire me if I helped you anymore,” Buddy believing it wasn’t possible for anyone in a uniform to lie. Brick was a deputy sheriff, and had been a greedy bully his whole life. Buddy was a poor guy who lived next door, which in the country was a quarter mile away.
Buddy spent all twelve school years in special ed, couldn’t read, add or subtract, but was, for reasons known only to nature, a savant when it came to car engines, so the sheriff had given him a job repairing the fleet of sheriff’s vehicles. He needed supervision, of course, but he could diagnose problems like a wizard.
Danny was mad enough to bite through a nail, but he smiled. No point in upsetting Buddy, poor little guy. He smiled, pretended like it was no big deal, then patted Buddy on the shoulder. “It’s ok, partner. I picked up most of my cages already, I don’t have much left to do anyway. I’ll be fine.”
That seemed to satisfy Buddy, so Danny got in his truck and left. Buddy loved to come along with Danny to run his crawfish cages, and now that asshole Brick had scared the boy from even thinking about doing it.