A little story

Since nothing extremely interesting is happening around the house today, how about a story?

I knew a guy, his name was Frank, but everyone called him Bull. He was a red head, Cajun, temperamental, already had a record, probably about 15. When I first met him, I was a little under his radar. I was about 12 or 11. His Daddy, JR, was in jail for something or other. He lived with his momma, and 2 brothers in a half built house. He had a motorcycle.
Anyway, he lived near a concrete place. There was also a field beside his house. My sister and I would hang with him sometime. He would be stoned, of course. Anyway, we go lay in that field on hot summer nights and he would sing all the Beatles songs he knew. One night, he decided to climb the fence at the TXI place and go up the big ass conveyor belt. He wanted my sister to go, then me. No way, Jose. She and I sat in that field watching him climb up, then come back down. We thought our goose was cooked. We thought he was going to fall off and we'd have to go tell his mother. He acted like it was nothing, but you could tell he had a great time.