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~Locker 187~

A smoky haze from statewide wildfires persists in the Magic Valley.  The hills to the north and south are rarely visible, now. I was working the fields, moving large bales of hay for Jesus when it dawned on me I had left my turkey sandwich at the station. I needed to find someone with a phone, and quick.  High school kids were sorting sugar beets in a field near by, and I knew damned well they probably all had phones with them, so I drove the forklift over there.  

"Will one of you nice kids let me borrow a phone for about a half-minute?"  I asked.

"Sure." Replied one of the boys as he took his phone from a pocket. 

I punched in Chuck's phone number. He answered right away.

"Hey, Chuck. Dan, here."

"Hey, Dan. What's up?"

"Will you bring me my sandwhich out to the farm? I forgot it at the station."

"Sure. Where is it?"

"Locker 187." 

We both hung up.