CHAPTER 4

"Hey, wake up, boy! Get up from there! You're under arrest!" The face hovering above him finally started to come into focus. Just then a very large hand which was connected to a very large man grabbed him by the front of his shirt and hauled him to his feet. "You're under arrest for disorderly conduct. Put your hands on top of your head – NOW!" Houston, still dazed and very much confused did as he was told. "Uh, deputy, what exactly-…" just then the handcuffs clicked into place and he was shoved toward the door. After considering his options, Houston decided to just keep his mouth shut and hope that he would be able to talk to somebody at the jail with a better attitude than this King Kong lookalike.

It was a very quiet ride to the jail. Only they didn't go to the jail. He was taken to an old rundown barn and pushed inside. The doors slammed home and a bar was dropped into place. Houston looked all around for another way out but couldn't see one. It was then that he noticed the smell of gasoline and heard the whoosh of flames as they started working their way around the perimeter of the barn.

"Well now that's just great!" he said to himself as he searched for some way to ditch the handcuffs and get out of the barn. He spied an old pair of fencing pliers laying on the floor. After kneeling down and twisting around to get them, he managed to cut the chain on the handcuffs by ramming the pliers against the wall several times. By this time, the smoke was getting thick.

"My daddy didn't raise me to be a barbecued brisket" he said as he made his way up to the loft. The loft doors were open and he was happy to find a rope still tied to the main beam. He grabbed it and swung outside of the barn – right before the rope broke. He landed with a thud, then rolled to get clear of the flames that were now fully consuming the old barn.

It was a nice long walk back to the roadhouse and it gave Houston plenty of time to think. He found his truck where he had left it and drove on back to his dad's house. He still wasn't used to thinking of it as his house yet, even though it had been almost a year since his dad had died. After a nice hot shower and a meal of Madre Rosa's famous chili and tamales, he was in a little better mood.

Guess I better call CJ and let her know what happened he thought to himself.