Remember I told y’all earlier everybody in Belle Binford had a nickname? We have a man in town everybody calls Nasty, and nobody anywhere knows his real name. I am sure his mama didn’t name him like that. Anyway he is the finest welder, and metal fab man around, but only if he is drunk. He ain’t mean or anything, but he drinks really really bad. I will let y’all in on a conversation with him and Uncle Muddy and me, since its easier to tell it like that.

Uncle Muddy said, “Pete, go hook up the log trailer to my pickup, will ya son? I got to go over to Nasty’s and get him to weld some braces on the tongue, and maybe put some new standard poles on it for when we haul wood. You can go with me if ya want to.”

Pete: “Yessir, I will do it right now.”

We got in the truck and drove over and Uncle Muddy warned me sternly, “Now son, when we get over there, that old man is kind of squirrely and is liable to do crazy stuff on a whim. He is probably showing out, but he is kind of addled. Like his brains is in a box but some of them leaked out.” I nodded and we got there in about twenty minutes.

We arrived at Nasty’s shop and saw old junk cars laying around, unrecognizable pieces of machinery and tons of scrap metal just laying everywhere, like in the dump. That was the junkiest place I had ever seen. And Nasty wasn’t much better looking. Greasy overalls with no undershirt. Greasy socks, greasy sneakers, stringy long hair. I think even his eyeballs had grease in them.

“Now Pete, you stay behind me.” Uncle Muddy said that with a warning in his voice. “I got some dinner on a plate for Nasty, and a twelve pack of beer for him. Hold the plate but don’t let him see the beer. We can get it out of the truck once he eats his plate. I ain’t gonna let him have it because he don’t eat unless I bribe him with a twelve pack. And he can’t weld a lick unless he downs six real quick.”

Nasty walks up with a grin; “Hey Muddy, what can I do ya for, long time no see?”

Muddy replied; “Hey Nasty, I got some welding work for you to do this evening if you are up to it. Here, I brought you some dinner my sister made you (that’s Mamaw) so you won’t go hungry a-doing it.”

Nasty, “Now Muddy I don’t eat a lot, you know that.”

Muddy, “I brought some beer you can have if you will eat some of it.”

Nasty’s hands were shaking so hard when he took that plastic sealed plate I thought he would drop it. Nasty handed it to me quickly and said, “Hang onto that a minute.”

Uncle Muddy half yelled “Get behind me Pete NOW!”

Nasty proceeded to run over to the side of his shop and grab a .22 rifle, and began running pell-mell toward a fence with a few old cows off in the distance and just started shooting that rifle like crazy. He did that for a minute and came back, leaning the rifle up and as if it was the most normal thing ever, he grinned and said “Firing for effect.”

Me and Uncle Muddy nodded gravely and Nasty took his plate back and sat down and ate as best as he could. He ate one piece of chicken and a couple bites of mashed potatoes then asked Uncle Muddy, “Where’s that beer? I am powerful thirsty now after them vittles.”

Uncle Muddy gave him the beer and he chugged six, for real, SIX whole cans of beer one after the other. Uncle Muddy and me sat down in some chairs and waited, and I noticed Uncle Muddy check his watch. After about thirty minutes, Nasty said “Muddy, brang that trailer over here to where my welding lines is at, and I will try to see if I can fix that tongue for ya. Give the boy a helmet and let him watch, I know youngun’s is real curious like.”

He took his cutting torch out and sliced off two pieces of metal from a junk scrap without measuring ONE PIECE and they were both perfect triangles. He clamped them to the edge of the trailer, and said “Here boy, hold them clamps so I can tack her on for yer Uncle.” Uncle Muddy put the welding helmet on me and said “Watch.”

Nasty tacked one piece on the side of the tongue of that trailer lickety split, then tacked the other piece on that other side, and didn’t measure anything. “Now watch this boy, watch ol’ Nasty run a bead.”

He welded the two triangle pieces with one hand, while I watched through the greasy welding hood. I have never seen anyone do that, much less perfect with one hand. His hands were steady as a rock, and Uncle Muddy had his head turned but was smiling when we took our helmets off.

Nasty let me clean the welds with the chipping tool, and let me brush them shiny while him and Uncle Muddy finished the rest of the twelve pack. Those welding seams looked like something out of a store that you would buy, they were so perfect. Nasty said “Those seams will be there from now on boy, that’s how you run a bead.”

That story is as true as the day is long, and I learned something that day; just because a feller is nasty and smells bad, don’t mean he ain’t good at something. He was nice to me too, even if he was a little scatterbrained. Uncle Muddy can’t weld though, says it gives him the headache.