Craven Danger on the Run - Part Four

Driving his cab across the George Washington bridge into New Jersey, Sidney Green kept one eye on the road and one eye on FDR, his German Shepard.

It was a humid May morning and FDR had his head out the window, taking in the breeze, and, occasionally, snapping at a phantom bug.

“You know, FDR,” said Sidney. “I’m glad the war’s finally over. Because having a German Shepard while them Nazi’s was raisin’ hell over in Europe was not sittin’ too good with my neighbors in Brooklyn. But I know they’re startin’ to take a likin’ to ya. Especially Mrs. Horowitz. And she hates everyone. She even made you some home-made beef jerky.”

At the words ‘beef jerky’ FDR sat back on his haunches and looked over at Sidney.

“Ah, I knew that would get your attention,” said Sidney. “For a minute there I was afraid you was gonna fall out the window.”

Sidney reached into his brown paper lunch bag and pulled out a stick of jerky.

“Here ya go, boy,”

Sidney then reached in the bag and grabbed a liverwurst sandwich that was wrapped in wax paper.

“Hey, Sidney,” said Betty, seated in the back seat. “You wouldn’t happen to have another one a those liverwurst sandwiches with the spicy brown mustard that I love so much. Would ya?”

“I might,” said Sidney. “And how about yourself, Mr. Danger? Would you care to partake?”

“Nah,” said Craven. “Spicy brown mustard don’t settle too good on my nervous stomach. You wouldn’t have anything in a baloney with mayonnaise, would ya?”

“This is a taxi,” said Sidney. “Not a delicatessen. How about some beef jerky?”

“Jerky?”

“What’s with the face?" said Sidney. “If it’s good enough for FDR, it’s should be good enough for you.”

“I have sensitive teeth,” said Craven. “Are ya sure ya don’t have maybe a marshmallow or two floatin’ around in that bag.”

“No,” said Sidney. “But I think I might have a marshmallow floatin’ around in the backseat.”

“Hey!” said Craven. “You take that back!”

“Or what?” said Sidney. “You’ll cry all over my apholstery?”

”No,” said Craven. ”But I might just poke a hole in your inflatable hemmorrhoid pillow!”

”You leave my hemmorhoids alone!” said Sidney. ”They’re war wounds!I got ‘em from drivin‘ the captain all over Italy in that dang bumpy jeep a his. I don‘t think I was on my feet the entire war. And I didn‘t even get a purple heart out of the deal. But it‘s still a war wound, Mr. Danger! So you mind ya manners when talkin‘ to a wounded veteren!”

“Okay!” said Betty. “That’s enough from you two. Our exits up ahead. Pull over when ya see the first open field, Sidney. Then we line up some cans and do some shootin’. I’m gonna make a first rate marksman outta you if it kills me, Mr. Danger.”

“I’ve seen him shoot, Betty” said Sidney. “They might be puttin’ them exact words on your tombstone.”

“That ain’t funny, Sidney,” said Betty. “Not even close.”