Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Retired Man
There was a time when Jason would not be here. He was always working. No chance would he waste effort on frivolity. Can't make money playing. Unless you were a professional ball player or something. But this time is different.
Jason is here at this party because the party is for Jason! It's his retirement party. No need to work this day. Working days are now over. Play is going to be his life going forward. Whether Jason is ready or not for the change. Time waits for no one.
So, let's party! And Jason does. To much party. All the gifts. All the memories. And the cake and drink and hugs and weepings. Hopefully Jason will remember some of it.
____________________
Six weeks later Jason has most of the honey do list complete. His wife tried to put together those chores that not only needed to be done but couldn't while he worked but also to keep him busy and out of her way. She knew that boredom would be an enemy to a happy home.
Not that Jason minded. He got out of bed as usual, anxious to get done what Janet wanted for him to get done. It was his new job. He got them done with a smile on his face and a jump in his step.
____________________
Seven months into Jason's retirement. Honey do list complete. Now it's find something to do list. A short list for him. And Janet has run out of meaningful ideas. Jason is just to good!
So, it's what does Jason what to do? Hunt. To violent and costly. Build a project car? To costly. And boring in a work intensive sort of way. Fitness by going to the gym? To repetitive.
Then Jason remembers that he always wanted to fly fish. Make his own lures. Learn how to cast. Be out in nature's most serene streams. Catch and release. Maybe even smoke a nice cigar while fishing.
Perfect.
____________________
Five years later and Jason is a master fly fisherman. He put his normal efforts at doing anything. Jason put together a program to learn all aspects of this art by mastering small portions one at a time. It wasn't long before he was winning the occasional tournament.
Fly fishing became Jason's passion. It changed him profoundly. He learned patience. And humility. His stress levels became straight lines. Janet smiled more. Life is good.
____________________
Today Jason is going a short distance to a favorite stream. He learned to fly fish here. Jason did not have to worry about catching a fish. Not that type of stream. No this excursion is just to be alone. Enjoy nature. Enjoy a good cigar. Then go home and spend time with Janet.
Jason parked the car and unloaded his favorite fishing chair and a small fold out table, like a TV dinner tray. He left the rod and other fishing gear in the car. Picking up the chair, table and a jug full of drink he walked the short distance to the stream.
Setting up the chair Jason placed a small folding table to his right. There he placed the small jug of an adult liquid to enjoy with his Gurkha Seduction cigar.
Jason sat down in his chair. The Sun was beaming a warm ray upon his face. He pulled out the cigar, unwrapped it, lit it with his wood matches. Taking a draw on the cigar he closes his eyes and faces toward the Sun. He lets out the smoke through his lips.
A man burst from the bushes to Jason's left. A fugitive from the law and armed he runs up to Jason. He shoots Jason in the head to get his clothes. Jason did not even open his eyes it happened so quickly. Just then the search dogs barked near by so the fugitive ran off into the stream to throw off his scent. He had no time to change clothes.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Old Woman
The day had been a fine Spring day. One of those Pacific Northwest days that remind one why you put up with the other lousy Pacific Northwest days.
Not that the old woman at the sink would have known. Looking out the window above the sink she could see the last faint colors of a long ago setting Sun. She didn't mind.
As she stood there before the sink her eyes were constantly scanning the foliage at the fence line. O yes, she was washing dishes, not that the plates and such needed a scrubbing. It just gave her something to do while she looked for him.
After some time, after the sky colors had blended into the Royal Blue of night, she saw movement at the fence. It was him. The old woman had made sure she was well silhouetted by a carefully placed kitchen light. He must have seen, to him, her black form at the window. She waited.
--------------
He moved silently. As quiet as a mouse trying to avoid a bored house cat. He loved nights like this. No moon. Just bright stars. A cool breeze. A kind of night where one would open a window to the night. Or a door. Quite foolish. But that is who he preys upon, the foolish.
Not just any foolhardy soul. He avoided couples. People with pets, especially dogs. Any kind of dog. They all bark. He avoided single men, of any age. That pretty much leaves single females. Of any age, though his preference was 35'ish and politically stupid. The ones that are PC and open minded and put people into various victim categories. Yes, victim is a nice word isn't it?
He made his way to the fence at the old woman's house. Proud of his abilities to rule the night he planned to rape and kill the old woman then continue his night hunt with a much prettier and buxom young lady across town. He had laid low during the Winter to let the police loose his trail, which they did. Time to satisfy his hunger. He moved quickly to the house.
------------
He decided not to cover his face with the ski mask. Why bother? The old woman is going to be dead anyways. The front door opens silently. He steps into the foyer.
She is waiting patiently at the sink.
The killer moves silently behind her. He already knows that no dog will interfere. No relative will show up at an inappropriate time and rescue the old woman. He planned this for weeks. He reaches out to her from behind with his right hand and cups her mouth and turns her all at once. Her eyes widen.
Forcing her to the floor he rips off her full length night gown. That was easy he thought to himself. No panties! He fumbles getting his own pants down but he was ready for penetration. It had been a long Winter. He closed his eyes. He didn't want to see the old woman's body, might ruin the mood. He rammed his love into her hard.
The old woman didn't close her eyes. She helped as much as possible without letting the rapist know she was eager for this moment as well. Though not for the same reasons. A long Winter it had been for her too. She wrapped her legs around the would be killer.
Still with eyes closed the rapist continued the love dance. Faster and harder he stroked. Faster his breathing. This old woman is riding me like a young woman, even better. A shame to kill her. But, he thinks, she'll die with a smile! He is fast approaching climax.
The old woman is transforming right before the closed eyes of her lover. Gone are the wrinkles in her face. Gone is the grey hair leaving a bright red hair behind. Her body slims and tightens to a young woman of 25. O if only the rapist could see her in her youthful glory! She rides him expertly, skilled in the art of pleasure! She feels his climax is upon him.
He cannot hold his love juices any longer. He feels the pressure of release. He is satisfied! That is when he feels her fangs penetrate his right jugular. His fast beating heart pumps the old woman's mouth full of his life fluid.
The old woman climaxed as well. She drinks his blood eagerly. Satisfied from a long Winter sleep, she looks forward to a prosperous Spring.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Fog Frost
This Winter has been real tough. Really tough.
Not so much the weather. Cold and snow are the norm here. Some ice.
Not so much with the breaking down of things. Piping in the house. Car won't crank.
Cold does that. No, not so much that things go wrong.
No, not so much that at all.
It's been, let's see now, over 1400 days. 1400 days without my Shari.
God why did you leave me here in this cold place without my Shari? Why?
O, I'm grateful and praise You for the many years with my Shari. Over 40 it was.
You blessed us with fine children that now are on their own with their kids.
But now Lord, in this cold time, in my young twilight years, I'm alone.
The children don't visit anymore, Hell, they don't bother to call!
I think I have driven them away somehow Lord. How could I do that?
Not only am I alone Lord, I'm cold! So cold. So lonely.
I miss my Shari so bad!
I think the kids miss her too. Shari kept the communication going. Now . . . silence.
Enough of this pity party! I have to get moving. More coffee. Yes, that'll cheer me.
I move into the breakfast nook that Shari so loved.
Reaching the bay window I reach up and pull the curtains open.
AHHH! I take an unexpected gulp of air. The beauty beyond the window is awesome!
There must have been a heavy fog last night and the freeze froze the fog in place.
On everything. The tree leaves. The blades of grass. The top of the car.
Even on birds sleeping o so still on the branches.
Like a velvety diamond portrait of Elvis!
The morning golden rays of the Sun was reflected into so many brilliant shades of color.
Thank you Lord. Thank you.
I hurriedly pore a cup of steaming strong black coffee.
I find and put on my leather bomber jacket. Grabbing the cup of coffee I head out the door.
I stop on the back porch and let my eyes wander over the beauty before them.
Not a foot mark can be seen on the ground. Not a chirp is heard in the trees.
Just the slow rise of the Sun casting rays through the trees causing ever more rising
shadows at me. I slowly walk into the brilliance.
As I walk along sipping my coffee and soaking in the beauty I notice something else.
A dark shadow is slowly covering my heart. My depression of this morning is returning.
Not even this beauty can totally keep my loneliness at bay.
Eventually I reach an old tree stump in the middle of a glade not far from the house.
I brush the hoary frost from it and sit down. Peering into my now empty cup.
I put the cup down at the foot of the stump. Sitting upright I close my eyes.
I begin to cry. I place my face into my hands. I continue to cry.
I AM SO LONELY LORD!
I continue to cry.
Charles.
Barely a whisper.
Charles.
I stop crying.
Charles.
Is someone calling me? There is no one here but me. I want to cry some more. In my hands.
Charles. Look up.
I lower my hands. I raise my head. I slowly open my eyes. Before me is a tree.
On its lower branch sits a sparrow. Looking at me. The bird rubs its beak on the branch.
And hops along the branch. As birds want to do.
Did that sparrow just talk to me?
No Charles, I did.
I look to my right and . . . O My God!
There stood my Shari! All golden in the morning rays. I rug my eyes.
Shari?
Yes Charles. God has allowed me to see you. He has also given you this, she sweeps her
arms to indicate the landscape.
Why Shari?
God saw your distress and felt pity. He knows what is in your heart.
It's dark now Shari. Does He see that?
Of course Charles. Did you not feel a comfort when you opened the curtains?
Yes.
Did you not feel light hearted walking amongst this beauty?
Yes. But you weren't here to enjoy it with me.
But Charles I am here. I never left.
You died! Shari you died!
Only in body Charles. I'm alive in your mind. You keep me alive in your mind charles.
I suppose.
I love you so much Charles. But now I have to give you a message.
What?
God has a job for you. Once it is done, you and I will be together again. In beauty you
cannot imagine. Forever.
I'm to die then. Soon?
No dear. I cannot say when. Only God knows. Can you do this job, whatever it is for me?
Of course! I can't wait to be with you. What am I to do?
Sing.
Sing?!
Yes. Sing Charles.
I've not done any such thing in my whole life! I'm an engineer Shari, not a singer!
O but you are my dear. I've heard you. God has given you this gift since birth.
What?! Heard me? How?
God showed me. Don't you believe?
Uh, well, I, yes. God can do all things.
What am I to sing about?
Charles, your heart will tell you that because God gives messages by the heart.
OK. Can I touch you? Just once more?
Shari holds out her transluscent hands towards mine.
I take them into my palms. Slowly I close my fingers around hers.
Immediately I feel the warmth. Immediately my heart starts to race. Immediately I'm young.
Then, she's gone.
I stand there for a moment with my arms still out stretched with empty hands.
I look around. The frost is gone. The Sun is high in the sky.
I raise my face to the Sun to let the rays warm me.
Thank you Lord!
I turn and slowly walk to the house.
Not so much the weather. Cold and snow are the norm here. Some ice.
Not so much with the breaking down of things. Piping in the house. Car won't crank.
Cold does that. No, not so much that things go wrong.
No, not so much that at all.
It's been, let's see now, over 1400 days. 1400 days without my Shari.
God why did you leave me here in this cold place without my Shari? Why?
O, I'm grateful and praise You for the many years with my Shari. Over 40 it was.
You blessed us with fine children that now are on their own with their kids.
But now Lord, in this cold time, in my young twilight years, I'm alone.
The children don't visit anymore, Hell, they don't bother to call!
I think I have driven them away somehow Lord. How could I do that?
Not only am I alone Lord, I'm cold! So cold. So lonely.
I miss my Shari so bad!
I think the kids miss her too. Shari kept the communication going. Now . . . silence.
Enough of this pity party! I have to get moving. More coffee. Yes, that'll cheer me.
I move into the breakfast nook that Shari so loved.
Reaching the bay window I reach up and pull the curtains open.
AHHH! I take an unexpected gulp of air. The beauty beyond the window is awesome!
There must have been a heavy fog last night and the freeze froze the fog in place.
On everything. The tree leaves. The blades of grass. The top of the car.
Even on birds sleeping o so still on the branches.
Like a velvety diamond portrait of Elvis!
The morning golden rays of the Sun was reflected into so many brilliant shades of color.
Thank you Lord. Thank you.
I hurriedly pore a cup of steaming strong black coffee.
I find and put on my leather bomber jacket. Grabbing the cup of coffee I head out the door.
I stop on the back porch and let my eyes wander over the beauty before them.
Not a foot mark can be seen on the ground. Not a chirp is heard in the trees.
Just the slow rise of the Sun casting rays through the trees causing ever more rising
shadows at me. I slowly walk into the brilliance.
As I walk along sipping my coffee and soaking in the beauty I notice something else.
A dark shadow is slowly covering my heart. My depression of this morning is returning.
Not even this beauty can totally keep my loneliness at bay.
Eventually I reach an old tree stump in the middle of a glade not far from the house.
I brush the hoary frost from it and sit down. Peering into my now empty cup.
I put the cup down at the foot of the stump. Sitting upright I close my eyes.
I begin to cry. I place my face into my hands. I continue to cry.
I AM SO LONELY LORD!
I continue to cry.
Charles.
Barely a whisper.
Charles.
I stop crying.
Charles.
Is someone calling me? There is no one here but me. I want to cry some more. In my hands.
Charles. Look up.
I lower my hands. I raise my head. I slowly open my eyes. Before me is a tree.
On its lower branch sits a sparrow. Looking at me. The bird rubs its beak on the branch.
And hops along the branch. As birds want to do.
Did that sparrow just talk to me?
No Charles, I did.
I look to my right and . . . O My God!
There stood my Shari! All golden in the morning rays. I rug my eyes.
Shari?
Yes Charles. God has allowed me to see you. He has also given you this, she sweeps her
arms to indicate the landscape.
Why Shari?
God saw your distress and felt pity. He knows what is in your heart.
It's dark now Shari. Does He see that?
Of course Charles. Did you not feel a comfort when you opened the curtains?
Yes.
Did you not feel light hearted walking amongst this beauty?
Yes. But you weren't here to enjoy it with me.
But Charles I am here. I never left.
You died! Shari you died!
Only in body Charles. I'm alive in your mind. You keep me alive in your mind charles.
I suppose.
I love you so much Charles. But now I have to give you a message.
What?
God has a job for you. Once it is done, you and I will be together again. In beauty you
cannot imagine. Forever.
I'm to die then. Soon?
No dear. I cannot say when. Only God knows. Can you do this job, whatever it is for me?
Of course! I can't wait to be with you. What am I to do?
Sing.
Sing?!
Yes. Sing Charles.
I've not done any such thing in my whole life! I'm an engineer Shari, not a singer!
O but you are my dear. I've heard you. God has given you this gift since birth.
What?! Heard me? How?
God showed me. Don't you believe?
Uh, well, I, yes. God can do all things.
What am I to sing about?
Charles, your heart will tell you that because God gives messages by the heart.
OK. Can I touch you? Just once more?
Shari holds out her transluscent hands towards mine.
I take them into my palms. Slowly I close my fingers around hers.
Immediately I feel the warmth. Immediately my heart starts to race. Immediately I'm young.
Then, she's gone.
I stand there for a moment with my arms still out stretched with empty hands.
I look around. The frost is gone. The Sun is high in the sky.
I raise my face to the Sun to let the rays warm me.
Thank you Lord!
I turn and slowly walk to the house.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Old Man
The sound of crashing cans onto the floor could be heard, interspersed with a
curse word and a laugh.
BAM BAM came the report of the big pistol. A young clerk lost his life.
"Damn it Al! Why'd ya do that?"
"Shut up! Grab more stuff and let's get out of here pronto!"
As they head to the door a car pulls in driven by a middle aged woman.
Al hurrys to the driver's door and yanks the woman out. BAM goes the pistol one more time.
"What the hell is wrong with you Al?"
"I said to shut yo yap! Now get in!"
Al puts the car in Drive and lays rubber out the drive.
. . . . .
"Give me something to munch on and a drink Pete."
"Sure Al." Pete reaches into the bag and grabs a packet of Slim Jims and a Monster. Hands them to Al.
"A Monster?! Are you a retard? Give me a beer stupid!"
Pete gets a beer.
Al downs it in one long swig. "That's better. Give me another."
And so the night wears on. Al looking into the rear view mirror to make sure no one is after
them and Pete making sure Al is kept happy with food and drink.
. . . . .
The engine sputters and quits. Al gets the car onto the shoulder out of the traffic lane.
"Great. Outta gas. At least no one was following."
"Now what Al? We are in the middle of corn fields and no one in sight for miles."
"An old farmer will be by soon. We'll grab his truck and keep goin. Sun be up in a while. Farmers get an early start don't ya know."
"Sure Al. If you say so. I'm a city kid wouldn't have the foggiest notion of what farmers do or don't do."
They wait in the darkness of the car.
. . . . .
Headlights appear in the distance behind them, moving slow down the country road.
"Right on time Pete. Here comes our next ride."
"Ya gonna shoot the farmer Al?"
"What do ya think there Petey? Ha Ha Haaaa."
The old pickup pulls behind Al and Pete's getaway car. It's a Chevy thats dependable though not a looker. A farmer's truck it is. The farmer leaves the headlights on and gets out.
Al had already grabbed the pistol and put it in his belt at his lower back and put his shirttail over it. He was standing by the door when the old farmer reached him.
"Trouble son?"
"Whadya think old man? We sittin here waitin for the Sun to rise? Hell yeah we got trouble."
"Didn't mean nuthin by it boy. Ya need gas?"
Reaching behind him Al brings out the big pistol and points it at the old farmer.
"No old man. I need your truck!"
The farmer doesn't move. Not a muscle. Not a flinch. Just stares into Al's eyes.
"Pete. Go get the truck and bring it along side!"
"Sure Al."
As Pete gets by the glare of the truck's headlights he could see through the windshield into the cab. What he saw stopped him. On the seat sat a big, no huge, black dog. His red eyes following every move Pete made. The dog's muzzle was open in a menacing way baring huge white teeth and the most prominent cuspids Pete had ever seen on a dog.
Pete quickly returns to the car.
"I told you to get the damn truck!"
"There's a big ass dog in that truck Al! Scares me to death!"
The old farmer says, "Al is it? Well, ya ain't gettin my truck."
"I'll shoot yer ass and the dog too! I always get what I want and I want that truck!"
"You can shoot me alright. You ain't gonna shoot that dog. And once he smells the death on me I sure wouldn't want to be you sonny! Or Pete!"
"Damn it don't shoot the old farmer!"
"Best listen to Pete there Al. I got's some gas in the back. Bout 5 gallons. It's enough to get you to the nearest town of sorts. I keep it just for emergencies like this. Tho I must admit most folks don't want to shoot me for the truck."
"Let me think."
"What about Al? You are in the middle of corn fields. Ain't no town for at least 20 miles all around. I ain't got a cell phone or nuthin. You get away with Pete here and I keep my truck and my life. Sounds fair don't it Al?"
"OK! Get the gas old man."
"Smart decision Al. Just be a sec."
. . . . .
As the car pulls away with Al and Pete the old farmer whistles for the dog.
"Now dog that car is gonna have a problem right about now."
Just then the getaway car explodes into flames. The drivers door and the passenger door both fly open as Al and Pete, on flames, escape the vehicle.
"OK boy, go get yer meal. Thought a BBQ would be good for ya tonight!"
The big hound leaps toward the car, with each bound the dog gets bigger and bigger. Soon yells of fright and the crunch of bones reach the old farmer.
. . . . .
After a short while the hell hound returns to the old farmer. Satisfied, the dog sits in front of the old man.
"I see some redness in your eyes still. You ain't quite full yet. I know of one little snack that should return those eyes to brown. I can see Joey slinking about the bushes in town wanting to rape a young girl in her bedroom. Not nice of Joey."
"Jump in dog. Let's go take care of Joey. And here I thought it would be hard to feed yer big ass. No worries. There will always be bad folks for you to feed on."
"Ha Haaaa Haaaaaa!"
curse word and a laugh.
BAM BAM came the report of the big pistol. A young clerk lost his life.
"Damn it Al! Why'd ya do that?"
"Shut up! Grab more stuff and let's get out of here pronto!"
As they head to the door a car pulls in driven by a middle aged woman.
Al hurrys to the driver's door and yanks the woman out. BAM goes the pistol one more time.
"What the hell is wrong with you Al?"
"I said to shut yo yap! Now get in!"
Al puts the car in Drive and lays rubber out the drive.
. . . . .
"Give me something to munch on and a drink Pete."
"Sure Al." Pete reaches into the bag and grabs a packet of Slim Jims and a Monster. Hands them to Al.
"A Monster?! Are you a retard? Give me a beer stupid!"
Pete gets a beer.
Al downs it in one long swig. "That's better. Give me another."
And so the night wears on. Al looking into the rear view mirror to make sure no one is after
them and Pete making sure Al is kept happy with food and drink.
. . . . .
The engine sputters and quits. Al gets the car onto the shoulder out of the traffic lane.
"Great. Outta gas. At least no one was following."
"Now what Al? We are in the middle of corn fields and no one in sight for miles."
"An old farmer will be by soon. We'll grab his truck and keep goin. Sun be up in a while. Farmers get an early start don't ya know."
"Sure Al. If you say so. I'm a city kid wouldn't have the foggiest notion of what farmers do or don't do."
They wait in the darkness of the car.
. . . . .
Headlights appear in the distance behind them, moving slow down the country road.
"Right on time Pete. Here comes our next ride."
"Ya gonna shoot the farmer Al?"
"What do ya think there Petey? Ha Ha Haaaa."
The old pickup pulls behind Al and Pete's getaway car. It's a Chevy thats dependable though not a looker. A farmer's truck it is. The farmer leaves the headlights on and gets out.
Al had already grabbed the pistol and put it in his belt at his lower back and put his shirttail over it. He was standing by the door when the old farmer reached him.
"Trouble son?"
"Whadya think old man? We sittin here waitin for the Sun to rise? Hell yeah we got trouble."
"Didn't mean nuthin by it boy. Ya need gas?"
Reaching behind him Al brings out the big pistol and points it at the old farmer.
"No old man. I need your truck!"
The farmer doesn't move. Not a muscle. Not a flinch. Just stares into Al's eyes.
"Pete. Go get the truck and bring it along side!"
"Sure Al."
As Pete gets by the glare of the truck's headlights he could see through the windshield into the cab. What he saw stopped him. On the seat sat a big, no huge, black dog. His red eyes following every move Pete made. The dog's muzzle was open in a menacing way baring huge white teeth and the most prominent cuspids Pete had ever seen on a dog.
Pete quickly returns to the car.
"I told you to get the damn truck!"
"There's a big ass dog in that truck Al! Scares me to death!"
The old farmer says, "Al is it? Well, ya ain't gettin my truck."
"I'll shoot yer ass and the dog too! I always get what I want and I want that truck!"
"You can shoot me alright. You ain't gonna shoot that dog. And once he smells the death on me I sure wouldn't want to be you sonny! Or Pete!"
"Damn it don't shoot the old farmer!"
"Best listen to Pete there Al. I got's some gas in the back. Bout 5 gallons. It's enough to get you to the nearest town of sorts. I keep it just for emergencies like this. Tho I must admit most folks don't want to shoot me for the truck."
"Let me think."
"What about Al? You are in the middle of corn fields. Ain't no town for at least 20 miles all around. I ain't got a cell phone or nuthin. You get away with Pete here and I keep my truck and my life. Sounds fair don't it Al?"
"OK! Get the gas old man."
"Smart decision Al. Just be a sec."
. . . . .
As the car pulls away with Al and Pete the old farmer whistles for the dog.
"Now dog that car is gonna have a problem right about now."
Just then the getaway car explodes into flames. The drivers door and the passenger door both fly open as Al and Pete, on flames, escape the vehicle.
"OK boy, go get yer meal. Thought a BBQ would be good for ya tonight!"
The big hound leaps toward the car, with each bound the dog gets bigger and bigger. Soon yells of fright and the crunch of bones reach the old farmer.
. . . . .
After a short while the hell hound returns to the old farmer. Satisfied, the dog sits in front of the old man.
"I see some redness in your eyes still. You ain't quite full yet. I know of one little snack that should return those eyes to brown. I can see Joey slinking about the bushes in town wanting to rape a young girl in her bedroom. Not nice of Joey."
"Jump in dog. Let's go take care of Joey. And here I thought it would be hard to feed yer big ass. No worries. There will always be bad folks for you to feed on."
"Ha Haaaa Haaaaaa!"
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Dead Raccoon
It was unusually warm this early in the Spring and this day was unusually bright. The cloudless sky letting the Sun pour forth it's fury onto the Earth unabated.
The young male raccoon had been asleep. Safe in his nest with his siblings and big female mother. He hears a hiss at his ear. It's mom wakening him up to his new life. She begins to nip at his nose and forepaws. Teeth bared. Agressive.
The male heir is startled. Why is she acting this way? She starts to bite. Viciously. He scurries outside. He scurries to escape. He scurries into a new life.
The big female stands guard to her nest. It is now time for the male child to leave. It is nature's way.
The young male wanders in the woods most of the day. Confused. Hungry. Scared. He finds a wood pile of old fencing covered with blackberry vines and surrounded by an odd assortment of forest ground cover. Grabbing a paw full of early berries he scrambles into the pile to hide and ponder what to do next. He falls asleep.
He awakes with a yawn. It is dark as the Sun has long ago drifted below the horizon. The raccoon sniffs the air. Hungry, he must find something to eat. Soon. There must be a birdnest or big beetle or grub worm near by. He leaves his hiding place.
The young male knows by instinct that he must find his own territory before whomever owns the one he's in finds him. Looking around and sniffing for odors that will help his decision he embarks to a scent that oddly smells of . . . he does not know. Curious, he follows the scent.
Traveling about a hundred yards he encounters a ditch. Crossing the dry depression he emerges from the weeds onto a road! That is what he smelled, the road. The raccoon touches the surface with his left paw gingerly. He sniffs it. He hears something approaching. Fast.
The bright headlights leap across the small mound in the road catching the raccoon in its glare. Not knowing what to do the young male stands transfixed in the beam. The car moved to avoid the animal but was to late. The right front wheel hits the young raccoon sending him skidding to the shoulder in the weeds. He lies lifeless just off the asphalt that so caught his attention.
. . . . .
What a perfect day. Warm. No rain. Sunny. A day to get the juices going after a hard winter. A day a young girl in love fantasizes and immortalizes in journals and tweets!
Then her parents ruined it! Told her she must not see her beloved Johnny not again. Not ever. They forbid it! They don't understand that she loves him so. And he loves her! He said so. So many times! They can't tell her not to see her handsome Johnny! She stormed out of the house and into her car that morning full of rage and anger.
The teenager drove around for hours. Not knowing what to do. Johnny did not get off work till late. Doing overtime this night for whatever reason. She must see him! She crys.
Her parents tried to call her. She ignores their calls. Not ready to speak with them. Later. After seeing Johnny. The Sun is long gone now. It is time to see her beloved Johnny.
As she nears his place of work she recalls the morning. Anger welling in her chest once more. Tears streaming down her face. She will tell her Johnny every thing. How she loves him so. Her right foot unknowingly pressing the throttle closer to the floor.
The car tops a mound in the road and the light beams immediately catch the raccoon. The animal's eyes reflect back to the young girl as shiny red orbs. She over corrects to miss the little male raccoon and skids off the road. The teenager did not feel the right front tire hit the raccoon.
She turns the steering wheel hard to the right to get back onto the road but the momentum is too great. The car slams into the tree just at the driver's door. The force of stopping so suddenly wraps the car around the 2 foot diameter tree. She died instantly. Along with the sound of the crash.
. . . . .
Hours later a bored deputy sheriff making his rounds finds the wreck. He calls dispatch.
Red lights, blue lights, yellow lights all flashing at different intervals surrounds the wreck. Police, fire, EMT, wrecker vehicles all have their jobs to do and they do it well. Soon the photos are taken, phone calls are made, deputies dispatched to the home of the now deceased girl. The reporter making her final report to the newspaper.
The ambulance has taken the body to the morgue. All is quiet again.
The Sun is trying to peak over the horizon to begin a new day. The mother raccoon now comes out of hiding to survey what all the hubbub was about just a few moments ago. She sniffs the air. A familiar scent fills her nostrils.
She ambers over to her now dead son. Sniffing again the fur she knows so well she backs off. Looking at him she raises her head and spits. She turns around and ambers back into the forest.
All that remains is one dead raccoon along the shoulder of the road.
The young male raccoon had been asleep. Safe in his nest with his siblings and big female mother. He hears a hiss at his ear. It's mom wakening him up to his new life. She begins to nip at his nose and forepaws. Teeth bared. Agressive.
The male heir is startled. Why is she acting this way? She starts to bite. Viciously. He scurries outside. He scurries to escape. He scurries into a new life.
The big female stands guard to her nest. It is now time for the male child to leave. It is nature's way.
The young male wanders in the woods most of the day. Confused. Hungry. Scared. He finds a wood pile of old fencing covered with blackberry vines and surrounded by an odd assortment of forest ground cover. Grabbing a paw full of early berries he scrambles into the pile to hide and ponder what to do next. He falls asleep.
He awakes with a yawn. It is dark as the Sun has long ago drifted below the horizon. The raccoon sniffs the air. Hungry, he must find something to eat. Soon. There must be a birdnest or big beetle or grub worm near by. He leaves his hiding place.
The young male knows by instinct that he must find his own territory before whomever owns the one he's in finds him. Looking around and sniffing for odors that will help his decision he embarks to a scent that oddly smells of . . . he does not know. Curious, he follows the scent.
Traveling about a hundred yards he encounters a ditch. Crossing the dry depression he emerges from the weeds onto a road! That is what he smelled, the road. The raccoon touches the surface with his left paw gingerly. He sniffs it. He hears something approaching. Fast.
The bright headlights leap across the small mound in the road catching the raccoon in its glare. Not knowing what to do the young male stands transfixed in the beam. The car moved to avoid the animal but was to late. The right front wheel hits the young raccoon sending him skidding to the shoulder in the weeds. He lies lifeless just off the asphalt that so caught his attention.
. . . . .
What a perfect day. Warm. No rain. Sunny. A day to get the juices going after a hard winter. A day a young girl in love fantasizes and immortalizes in journals and tweets!
Then her parents ruined it! Told her she must not see her beloved Johnny not again. Not ever. They forbid it! They don't understand that she loves him so. And he loves her! He said so. So many times! They can't tell her not to see her handsome Johnny! She stormed out of the house and into her car that morning full of rage and anger.
The teenager drove around for hours. Not knowing what to do. Johnny did not get off work till late. Doing overtime this night for whatever reason. She must see him! She crys.
Her parents tried to call her. She ignores their calls. Not ready to speak with them. Later. After seeing Johnny. The Sun is long gone now. It is time to see her beloved Johnny.
As she nears his place of work she recalls the morning. Anger welling in her chest once more. Tears streaming down her face. She will tell her Johnny every thing. How she loves him so. Her right foot unknowingly pressing the throttle closer to the floor.
The car tops a mound in the road and the light beams immediately catch the raccoon. The animal's eyes reflect back to the young girl as shiny red orbs. She over corrects to miss the little male raccoon and skids off the road. The teenager did not feel the right front tire hit the raccoon.
She turns the steering wheel hard to the right to get back onto the road but the momentum is too great. The car slams into the tree just at the driver's door. The force of stopping so suddenly wraps the car around the 2 foot diameter tree. She died instantly. Along with the sound of the crash.
. . . . .
Hours later a bored deputy sheriff making his rounds finds the wreck. He calls dispatch.
Red lights, blue lights, yellow lights all flashing at different intervals surrounds the wreck. Police, fire, EMT, wrecker vehicles all have their jobs to do and they do it well. Soon the photos are taken, phone calls are made, deputies dispatched to the home of the now deceased girl. The reporter making her final report to the newspaper.
The ambulance has taken the body to the morgue. All is quiet again.
The Sun is trying to peak over the horizon to begin a new day. The mother raccoon now comes out of hiding to survey what all the hubbub was about just a few moments ago. She sniffs the air. A familiar scent fills her nostrils.
She ambers over to her now dead son. Sniffing again the fur she knows so well she backs off. Looking at him she raises her head and spits. She turns around and ambers back into the forest.
All that remains is one dead raccoon along the shoulder of the road.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
FAST FORWARD
There was a light breeze blowing through her hair. It was
gently brushing a few strands across his face. It felt good.
His courage finally up to speed, he asks her, "Will you
marry me?" His heart stopped. He held his breath.
She continued to gaze across the field. Avoiding his eyes.
He could not see the grin slowly moving across her
beautiful face. The breeze helped to calm her. She blinked
her eyes hard.
"Yes"
It was almost a whisper. He could not trust his ears. Did
she say yes? Or what? He had planned this down to the
finest detail. After all, they were in the shade of their
favorite tree, down by the creek. Their creek. He groaned.
She cleared her throat. Did he not hear her? Why did he groan?
"I said YES!"
He grabbed her into his arms. He kissed her face. His heart
started beating. It is good in this shade."
FAST FORWARD
The sounds of children playing could be heard all across the
fields where the tree stood casting its shade on the ground.
It was a game made up by the children. The best kind.
On the blanket the parents sat in vigil over the basket
full of the picnic food and drinks. They held each other in
loving arms. They watched the children play with eyes full
of parental love and pride. A gentle breeze cooled their faces.
Life is good in the shade of the tree.
FAST FORWARD
The man is now middle aged. His back rests against the base
of the shade tree.
"Son, you don't have to do this. Not on my account anyhow."
"I know dad. I have to do this. I've already signed the papers."
"OK, son. But you haven't raised your right hand for the oath."
"I do that in the morning with the others. I want you and mom there."
"Of course we will be there. Just you come back home to us."
"I will."
"I love you son and I'm so proud of you."
Both father and son welcomed the cool of the shade.
FAST FORWARD
The old man stands silently in the shade of the tree. At his
feet is a grave. It's been days since the funeral. All the
others are home now. The headstone stands at the base of the
tree. That way she can see out across the fields.
His heart aches. Real bad. Hot tears are swelling behind his
tightly closed eye. His heart aches real bad.
A small wimper escapes his lips. That opens the door for the
body racking sobs that quickly follow. His heart aches bad.
In the shade of their favorite tree this time the cool breeze
is not even noticed.
FAST FORWARD
The sound of the construction equipment angrily blasted its way
across the fields. Powerful diesel engines with their throaty,
bassy notes. The sharp whacks of hammer against nail. The high
pitch of a circular saw cutting its way through a board.
A worker approaches the shade tree.
"Hey Fred! What about this old tree?"
"What about it!"
"What do we do with it?!"
"Plans say to cut it down!"
"OK!"
The worker starts stompping down the high grass at the base. To get
a good working area for the chain saw. He stumbles over the headstone.
"Hey Fred!"
"What now?!"
"You better see this!"
FAST FORWARD
A man stands at the podium. He is speaking to an assembled crowd.
He is giving a speech. He is the country's best litigation lawyer.
"I was sitting at my desk when the construction supervisor called. It
was not a totally unexpected call. Problems arise on every job."
"But when he described the tree I knew other plans for it had to be
made. For you see, I had forgotten about that tree. I played in its
shade as a boy visiting my grandparents."
"I remember the games we made up. Grandma and Grandpa would just
sit on their blanket and watch us. They always held hands. They always
had a smile. They loved that tree."
"My dad would tell us how Grandpa would chase them around the tree
after a handful of grass was thrown on him by the kids. He said they
would squeal with glee and laughter. Grandpa laughing all the while
while chasing them. Grandma would clap her hands and giggle."
"There was always a cool breeze in the shade of that tree."
"When I started this development project on the land that I inherited
I must confess that I started with a lawyer's heart. Stone. Cold.
Calculating. I wasn't brought up that way. I wasn't taught that by
my parents. And they damn sure weren't taught that by Grandma
and Grandpa."
"That phone call was not by the supervisor. It was the tree calling.
It touched my cold heart. It shouted 'Don't forget that Grandma and
Grandpa are at my feet. Don't forget your little boy memories are
at my feet.'"
"So today I dedicate this park to my family and to our memories, but
especially to the shade tree."
"Walk in its shade. Feel the cool breeze. Let it hold your memories."
"Thank you for coming. Thank you mom and dad. Thank you Grandma and
Grandpa. Thank you tree."
He steps down from the podium. A polite clapping from the crowd.
Children begin to play on the playground equipment. Parents sit on
the park benches keeping vigil. Some where a dog barks.
And a cool breeze blows in the shade of that old shade tree.
gently brushing a few strands across his face. It felt good.
His courage finally up to speed, he asks her, "Will you
marry me?" His heart stopped. He held his breath.
She continued to gaze across the field. Avoiding his eyes.
He could not see the grin slowly moving across her
beautiful face. The breeze helped to calm her. She blinked
her eyes hard.
"Yes"
It was almost a whisper. He could not trust his ears. Did
she say yes? Or what? He had planned this down to the
finest detail. After all, they were in the shade of their
favorite tree, down by the creek. Their creek. He groaned.
She cleared her throat. Did he not hear her? Why did he groan?
"I said YES!"
He grabbed her into his arms. He kissed her face. His heart
started beating. It is good in this shade."
FAST FORWARD
The sounds of children playing could be heard all across the
fields where the tree stood casting its shade on the ground.
It was a game made up by the children. The best kind.
On the blanket the parents sat in vigil over the basket
full of the picnic food and drinks. They held each other in
loving arms. They watched the children play with eyes full
of parental love and pride. A gentle breeze cooled their faces.
Life is good in the shade of the tree.
FAST FORWARD
The man is now middle aged. His back rests against the base
of the shade tree.
"Son, you don't have to do this. Not on my account anyhow."
"I know dad. I have to do this. I've already signed the papers."
"OK, son. But you haven't raised your right hand for the oath."
"I do that in the morning with the others. I want you and mom there."
"Of course we will be there. Just you come back home to us."
"I will."
"I love you son and I'm so proud of you."
Both father and son welcomed the cool of the shade.
FAST FORWARD
The old man stands silently in the shade of the tree. At his
feet is a grave. It's been days since the funeral. All the
others are home now. The headstone stands at the base of the
tree. That way she can see out across the fields.
His heart aches. Real bad. Hot tears are swelling behind his
tightly closed eye. His heart aches real bad.
A small wimper escapes his lips. That opens the door for the
body racking sobs that quickly follow. His heart aches bad.
In the shade of their favorite tree this time the cool breeze
is not even noticed.
FAST FORWARD
The sound of the construction equipment angrily blasted its way
across the fields. Powerful diesel engines with their throaty,
bassy notes. The sharp whacks of hammer against nail. The high
pitch of a circular saw cutting its way through a board.
A worker approaches the shade tree.
"Hey Fred! What about this old tree?"
"What about it!"
"What do we do with it?!"
"Plans say to cut it down!"
"OK!"
The worker starts stompping down the high grass at the base. To get
a good working area for the chain saw. He stumbles over the headstone.
"Hey Fred!"
"What now?!"
"You better see this!"
FAST FORWARD
A man stands at the podium. He is speaking to an assembled crowd.
He is giving a speech. He is the country's best litigation lawyer.
"I was sitting at my desk when the construction supervisor called. It
was not a totally unexpected call. Problems arise on every job."
"But when he described the tree I knew other plans for it had to be
made. For you see, I had forgotten about that tree. I played in its
shade as a boy visiting my grandparents."
"I remember the games we made up. Grandma and Grandpa would just
sit on their blanket and watch us. They always held hands. They always
had a smile. They loved that tree."
"My dad would tell us how Grandpa would chase them around the tree
after a handful of grass was thrown on him by the kids. He said they
would squeal with glee and laughter. Grandpa laughing all the while
while chasing them. Grandma would clap her hands and giggle."
"There was always a cool breeze in the shade of that tree."
"When I started this development project on the land that I inherited
I must confess that I started with a lawyer's heart. Stone. Cold.
Calculating. I wasn't brought up that way. I wasn't taught that by
my parents. And they damn sure weren't taught that by Grandma
and Grandpa."
"That phone call was not by the supervisor. It was the tree calling.
It touched my cold heart. It shouted 'Don't forget that Grandma and
Grandpa are at my feet. Don't forget your little boy memories are
at my feet.'"
"So today I dedicate this park to my family and to our memories, but
especially to the shade tree."
"Walk in its shade. Feel the cool breeze. Let it hold your memories."
"Thank you for coming. Thank you mom and dad. Thank you Grandma and
Grandpa. Thank you tree."
He steps down from the podium. A polite clapping from the crowd.
Children begin to play on the playground equipment. Parents sit on
the park benches keeping vigil. Some where a dog barks.
And a cool breeze blows in the shade of that old shade tree.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Roadkill
OK, here comes another.
WHOOSH!
Three
Three
Three
Good, shows class. Two more.
WHOOSH!
Three, Three, Three!
WHOOSH!
Two, Three, Two
Just like mine! No class at all. One more.
WHOOSH!
Four
Five
Four
WOW! Real class. Expensive to own. I just love counting the red light
groupings on the back of flatbed trailers. Ain't got a whole lot to
do driving this big rig. Beats counting the miles.
I think in a while I'll make up stuff using the letters on license
plates. That will keep me mind busy for awhile. Don't want to nod
off behind the wheel.
Uh O what's this? Roadkill of some kind. Not as big as a deer but
bigger than the average dog. Cain't tell in the dusk lighting.
Might be a sheep or something like that. I don't know what it was
but it ain't what it used to be.
Something is already eating on it. Buzzard I'd guess. No. Wrong shape.
And it ain't black. Kinda like a bird, but not. What the hay? I'll slow
down a bit. Crap. That ain't no buzzard! Other wordly it looks like.
Better get a picture.
Breaker 19.
Silence.
Breaker 19. Did any of you drivers west bound see this roadkill at
yard stick 102?
Silence.
Figures. Must be listening to SiriusXM. The eastbound cain't see this.
As the rig stops I set the brakes, put her in neutral and grab my digital
camera from it's hiding place. Whoops! All most forgot. I set the 4 ways.
I get out the driver's door and head back to the scene. Camera at the ready.
Within 20 feet I snap the first shot. The flash on the camera lights up the kill
and the hungry whatever. That's when whatever noticed me. It looks up. It
ain't no bird! Kinda metallic. Kinda slick looking. Out of this world. And
it ain't in the least happy to have its meal interrrupted.
I keep snapping shots as I back away towards the truck. The thing raised its
head showing a circular mouth with many rows of teeth in ever closing concentric circles. The last of the light bouncing off the serraded edge of each tooth, broadcasting the efficiency and quickness of downing a meal.
Frightened, I drop the camera and take a dead run back to the truck. I gotta
get in and get out of there. Glad I left the big engine running.
Just as I got to the door I felt the thing land on my back. Simultaneously I felt
a stab just to the left of my backbone. I instantly went numb and fell to the
ground. In falling I rolled onto my back with my head resting on the bottom
step below the driver's door. I felt nothing. I could move nothing. Well, I
could move my eyes and blink and breath and my heart still pumped.
Looking towards my feet I notice I'm missing my right shoe. Hell, I'm missing
my right foot! And there the thing was, eating away at my leg. I could hear the
bones crunching and the slurping of blood. No pain. Wonder how long before
I bleed to death? Unless the thing has something in the juice injected by
the stinger that clots blood preventing a loss or something. Kinda like a
skeeter, ya think?
Man, he's working fast. It must prefer fresh to roadkill. I should take a picture.
WHOOSH!
Three
Three
Three
Good, shows class. Two more.
WHOOSH!
Three, Three, Three!
WHOOSH!
Two, Three, Two
Just like mine! No class at all. One more.
WHOOSH!
Four
Five
Four
WOW! Real class. Expensive to own. I just love counting the red light
groupings on the back of flatbed trailers. Ain't got a whole lot to
do driving this big rig. Beats counting the miles.
I think in a while I'll make up stuff using the letters on license
plates. That will keep me mind busy for awhile. Don't want to nod
off behind the wheel.
Uh O what's this? Roadkill of some kind. Not as big as a deer but
bigger than the average dog. Cain't tell in the dusk lighting.
Might be a sheep or something like that. I don't know what it was
but it ain't what it used to be.
Something is already eating on it. Buzzard I'd guess. No. Wrong shape.
And it ain't black. Kinda like a bird, but not. What the hay? I'll slow
down a bit. Crap. That ain't no buzzard! Other wordly it looks like.
Better get a picture.
Breaker 19.
Silence.
Breaker 19. Did any of you drivers west bound see this roadkill at
yard stick 102?
Silence.
Figures. Must be listening to SiriusXM. The eastbound cain't see this.
As the rig stops I set the brakes, put her in neutral and grab my digital
camera from it's hiding place. Whoops! All most forgot. I set the 4 ways.
I get out the driver's door and head back to the scene. Camera at the ready.
Within 20 feet I snap the first shot. The flash on the camera lights up the kill
and the hungry whatever. That's when whatever noticed me. It looks up. It
ain't no bird! Kinda metallic. Kinda slick looking. Out of this world. And
it ain't in the least happy to have its meal interrrupted.
I keep snapping shots as I back away towards the truck. The thing raised its
head showing a circular mouth with many rows of teeth in ever closing concentric circles. The last of the light bouncing off the serraded edge of each tooth, broadcasting the efficiency and quickness of downing a meal.
Frightened, I drop the camera and take a dead run back to the truck. I gotta
get in and get out of there. Glad I left the big engine running.
Just as I got to the door I felt the thing land on my back. Simultaneously I felt
a stab just to the left of my backbone. I instantly went numb and fell to the
ground. In falling I rolled onto my back with my head resting on the bottom
step below the driver's door. I felt nothing. I could move nothing. Well, I
could move my eyes and blink and breath and my heart still pumped.
Looking towards my feet I notice I'm missing my right shoe. Hell, I'm missing
my right foot! And there the thing was, eating away at my leg. I could hear the
bones crunching and the slurping of blood. No pain. Wonder how long before
I bleed to death? Unless the thing has something in the juice injected by
the stinger that clots blood preventing a loss or something. Kinda like a
skeeter, ya think?
Man, he's working fast. It must prefer fresh to roadkill. I should take a picture.
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