As we wait for his answer his expression changes as he raises the shotgun again. “Her names not Shirley.” Anger is seeping back into his face as unease and panic start to sink into ours. Aw, shit! We blew this big-time. I feel the loosening of my bowels as he points the gun straight into my face; cocking the triggers again. Taking two steps forward he hisses, “You have two minutes to get off my property.”
With that we both say, “No problem, we’re going. So sorry to have bothered you.” The sound of our voices must have sounded like someone rubbing a balloon; only, acapella. We both turned and started running toward the car. The feeling we had as our backs were turned to him was ghastly. Would he let us go or just shoot us in the back and bury our corpses out in the back forty.
Fairly leaping into the car we hear from behind, “And don’t ever come back!” Then, a gale of laughter. We look to where he threatened us and see him sitting on his butt laughing and holding his stomach; the shotgun laying in the dirt beside him. “It wasn’t even loaded!” He managed to croak. Evidently he thought we were the funniest thing he’d ever seen. In truth, I guess we probably were.