Anumpa IkbiIn the Native American Choctaw language this means The Storyteller.

I was born in southern Oklahoma in the same town and the same year that Roy Rogers and Dale Evans got married. Although I spent most of my school years in Norman I always considered Ringling my hometown. I guess mostly because I’m related to just about everyone there. I’ve always joked that my parents moved to Norman so that my sister, Jennifer, and I could legally date.

I chose Anumpa Ikbi as my writer’s logo primarily because of my Choctaw ancestry but also because of my feelings of connection, sort of a totem, with the coyote. There is no Choctaw word for coyote so I created the idea of the storyteller coyote.

This connection really began from a story that my mother told. This happened before I was old enough to remember so it’s totally from my memory of her story.

Ringling and several other small towns nearby are known as the mud creek community because of their proximity to Mud Creek, thus, the title to this short story.

Mud Creek

“Where’s Mike?” Christine asked as Dewey came through the squeaky back screen door alone.

“Don, don’t know,” Dewey stuttered and looked confused, hesitated to get his thoughts connected to his next words, then finished, “not with you?”

Dewey Eubanks had a problem with talking. After being hit with a mortar at Iwo Jima almost as soon as his platoon had landed on the island, he’d fallen getting back onto the ship and severely injured his head. His right arm had been nearly severed by the mortar and he pretty much carried it with his left hand on his long trip back to the shuttle boat and to the ship. Walking with his good arm holding his wounded arm left him just enough off balance that the blood and water slicked deck made keeping his footing impossible. When he fell he was unable to protect his head at all. After months in the VA hospital in Oklahoma City where his arm was reattached reasonably well he transferred to the Naval Base south of Norman. He sent for and married his hometown sweetheart Christine Folsom. For months Christine lived in an apartment while Dewey was convalescing on base. Then they finally moved to Ardmore, closer to home, where Dewey got a good job as an Air Traffic Controller. They planned, and had, a beautiful daughter, Jennifer, and even began building their dream house. Dewey and Christine made a very handsome young couple. He was beneficiary to a strong jaw and penetrating blue eyes from his English/Irish ancestors. He wasn’t as tall as some of his brothers but his physical conditioning made him just as appealing. Christine had somehow avoided the typical Choctaw appearance that most of her siblings and parents displayed. Instead, her light hair and blue eyes went well with her trim figure and 5’ 2” height. Jennifer seemingly had inherited the best of both and the small family was definitely a picture of envy in the Ardmore community of 1947. Then in 1948 they added a son, Richard Michael, to their family.

In 1950 the old injuries created a new hurdle. Dewey suffered massive brain hemorrhaging likely due to the head injury on the ship. After months back in the VA hospital in Oklahoma City, a real strain had been placed on the marriage and the relationship between Christine and Dewey’s families in Ringling. But now he was finally home. The massive strokes had injured his brain making the challenge to communicate very frustrating. But Dewey was finally back with his family.

“He left with you Dewey.” Christine looked worried at first then her expression turned to a combination of anger and panic. She was tired of all the work, tired of all the worries, and tired of wearing dresses made from the sacks the livestock feed came in. Her frustrations burst out. “He’s only two, where is he?”

“No,” Dewey returned anger with anger, “not with me.”Dewey knew that his wife had been cheated, just as he had. He knew that if he

hadn’t had the strokes that they’d be in that modern new home they’d started building in Ardmore. He wished he had on the slacks, shirt and tie that he’d worn to work at the control tower instead of the feedsack shirt and overalls that he was now wearing.

“Well, we’ve got to find him.” Christine hurried through the old screen door so quickly that the rusted hinges nearly broke. “I’ll look in the trees up by the road and you look in the sheds.”

Christine headed up the long driveway that led from the old shack towards the dirt road. She looked down at the ground as she stayed in the rut. In southern Oklahoma you didn’t have pavement, gravel, or for that matter even a graded level drive. Instead you had two sandy ruts between a two or three foot wide area of grass that the tires of the

cars, pickups, and tractors made on the numerous trips to and from the house from the main road.

She had that fast gait to her walk that was partly a need to hurry and find the toddler and partly her way of controlling panic in a bad situation and looking confident even if she wasn’t.

Christine hadn’t been raised in the same caring, confident, and pioneering type of family that Dewey had. Dewey was the youngest brother of twelve children. Christine was the oldest sister of seven children and had been more of a mother to her siblings than their own mother had been. Her mother just didn’t quite have the capacity to help out when her father decided to abuse the kids. So that walk, that expression of false power and confidence, that shoulders-back and head-high look that had bluffed her way with her father so many times was now part of her personality.

“I can’t believe that it’s harder now than when he was in the hospital.” Christine muttered out loud to herself as she turned off the narrow dirt driveway and walked through the knee-high Johnson grass into the small group of trees on the north side of their eighty acres. “I thought he’d be a help, I thought I could count on him helping out with Mike. I just can’t watch Mike all the time and take care of Jennifer and him too.”

“Mike didn’t leave with me,” Dewey thought to himself as he looked in the outhouse. “An outhouse. We could be living in the house in Ardmore right now. We could have all the modern conveniences that we’d planned. We wouldn’t be in this place, this farm, living in this old shack.” The old shack barely had a kitchen, much less a bathroom. No telling just how old the house was. The water was from a well outside and the outhouse was nothing more than an enclosure with a wooden seat over a hole in the ground. “He was in his room playing.” Dewey gathered his thoughts and tried again to say them out loud. “No…, not.” The frustration made his face red and he thought to himself. “Why can’t I say what I’m thinking?”

“Did you find him?” Christine yelled across the hundred or so yards to the shed that Dewey was coming out of.

“Na, no.” Was all that Dewey could get his vocal chords to accomplish.“You go check the ponds,” Christine directed Dewey as she maintained her in-

charge attitude, “I’ll check on Jennifer and meet you at the ravines.Dewey, practically running now, headed for the first of the two ponds while

Christine went back into the house.“What’s wrong Momma?” Jennifer was standing in the kitchen looking through

the old screen door as Christine came in. “Is Mike hurt again?”Mike was a boy. And all boy at that. If a day went by that he didn’t get into

some kind of trouble or hurt it meant he was too sick to get out of bed.For three, Jennifer could talk like a much older child. Christine had lots of time to

work with her, and Mike too, with their learning. In 1950 there wasn’t anything like preschool but a good parent could do a lot more than preschool could anyway.

“We don’t know honey,” Christine hugged Jennifer then continued, “we just have to find him.” Christine thought a second, held Jennifer back away from her and looked into her pretty little girl’s blue eyes and asked. “Have you seen him?”

“No Momma, he left right after Daddy did.”“Well, you stay right here in the house.” Christine gave Jennifer another

reassuring hug. “We won’t be long. He can’t be far.”“Should I go in the water?” Dewey thought to himself and also again wondered

why in the world he couldn’t say things when he could think them just as clearly as he could before the strokes. “It’s so red and muddy, Mike could be inches under the water and I wouldn’t be able to see him.”

“Find him yet?” Christine spoke breathlessly due to her fast pace from the old house to the pond.

“Nn, no.” Dewey stammered his disappointing answer.

“He must be in the washouts then.” Christine climbed back up over the earthen dam that had created the farm pond as she spoke. “He’s got to be in one of the ravines.”

The eighty acres that the couple had purchased wasn’t the best farming land. But with their new financial situation it was the best they could afford. It had a large portion in the middle that washed out every time it rained and had created a small version of the grand canyons. As bad as it was for farming, it was a little country boy’s delight.

“I’ve told him to stay out of these a thousand times.” Christine muttered to Dewey as the two climbed down the six or so feet into the first one. “There’re snakes and who knows what in these worthless ditches.”

Dewey simply followed his wife and listened to her continuous comments. He understood her frustration with their situation too, and loved her even though he’d like for her to stop talking at times.

“No,” Dewey managed to actually say loudly and clearly when he thought he’d heard something, “no talking, hear something.” Dewey’s face reddened as he gathered all his abilities to convert his thoughts into spoken words then finished. “Listen.”

Christine stopped talking and the two of them stood frozen, and actually felt like they were straining their ears for any sound.

“Puppy.”It was barely audible but they heard it.“Puppy.”Again they heard it and this time they were able to ascertain what direction it’d

come from.“Over there,” Christine pointed at about the same time that Dewey had began to

climb up out of the ravine they’d been standing in, “He’s in one of the ravines over there.”

Relieved to hear the small voice that let them know Mike was OK the two climbed down into the next ravine and again stood motionless and listened.

“Oh puppy”This time the voice was closer and they were able to tell that Mike was happy by

his tone of voice.“Next,” Dewey began climbing again out of the ravine they were now standing in

and over to the next one, “here.”Christine had a little more trouble getting up the side, which crumbled away with

each foothold so Dewey had stopped at the top and helped his wife up. Then the two mostly slid down into the third ravine and stopped again to listen. But this time it was so long before they heard anything that they feared they’d gone the wrong way. Then just about the time they were ready to climb out of this latest ravine and go back, they heard the little whimpers that did sound like puppies.

“Over here,” Christine pointed at a little cave in the side of the ravine they were in, “it’s coming from in there.” Christine got down on her knees in the red sand and clay bottom of the ravine and peered into the fairly dark small cave. “He’s here Dewey,” she paused with relief then finished. “I see him.”

“Me.” Dewey grunted as he pulled Christine up and got down on his knees in front of the small cave.

“Be careful,” Christine spoke quickly, “I think they’re coyote cubs in there with him. The mother might be in there too.”

There were too many coyotes in Oklahoma in the early fifties. In fact there was a substantial bounty for their elimination. You could drive along the highways and see dozens and dozens hanging from the barbed wire fencing as a show of the prowess and community service of the farm’s owner. Coyotes were always considered a nuisance to farmers. It’s intelligence and cunning nature gave it an almost unfair ability to forage on a farm’s resources.

Dewey reached in and grabbed Mike by the leg of his little overalls and started pulling him out. When Mike was far enough for the sunlight to show him clearly Dewey noticed one of the coyote cubs still in Mike’s hands. Dewey, in a combination of relief, frustration, and anger took the cub out of Mike’s hands and practically threw it back into the cave. He then yanked Mike the rest of the way out of the cave and started spanking him.

“That’s enough Dewey.” Christine was angry with Mike too but knew that Dewey’s frustration and anger could be greatly exaggerated at times because of his handicap. “Let’s make sure he’s not hurt.”

Mike was crying but when Christine took him from his father and looked him over the only real thing wrong was the dirt. His overalls were filthy from the red soil and even his nearly white blond hair looked red.

“Puppy,” Mike was still crying as he pointed to the little cave, “puppy mine, want puppy.”

Christine tired of trying to hold the squirming, crying bundle had put Mike down. Mike immediately started back in the direction of the small den.

“No!” Dewey yelled sternly and clearly enough to get the little boy’s undivided attention. “Home!”

Mike was still crying but turned to follow his parents out of the ravine and back toward the house.

“Was the mother in with the cubs?” Christine asked as they walked.“N, no,” Dewey stammered, paused, then finished, “think not.”The three walked in near silence the rest of the five or so minutes it took to get

back to the house. When they got near the back door they could see the Jennifer’s blond hair through the old screen door as she peered out to see what was going on.

“Is Mike hurt?” Jennifer’s words were loud and clear for such a young child. “Is he in trouble again?”

“No sweetie,” Christine smiled at her little girl as she pushed the screen door open and watched Jennifer stepping back, “he’s not hurt this time but he’s sure going to be in trouble if he wanders off again.”

Dewey came in behind Christine and Mike and went straight back to the couple’s bedroom. In a few minutes he came back through the small living room where Christine was sitting with Jennifer in her lap and Mike was sitting on the floor looking out the front screen door staring at really nothing.

“Where are you going now?” Christine saw the 22 caliber rifle in Dewey’s hand.“Coyote,” Dewey said fairly clearly as he walked past the family in the living

room, through the small kitchen, then out the back screen door letting it slam behind him.In about ten minutes Christine, Jennifer, and Mike heard the shrill yelping coming

from the ravines. Mike began to cry again but Christine and Jennifer remained quiet in the old rocking chair.

About an hour of silence went by and the three in the old house hadn’t moved or said a word. Then they heard the snap, and echoing of the small caliber rifle being fired followed immediately by one loud yelp.

Mike again began to cry but Christine and Jennifer still remained silent and unmoved. The looks on their faces indicated a combination of emotions but it was as though they understood the situation better than a two-year-old boy possibly could.

Sandy Summer RoadsBy Rich Eubanks

www.RichTales.com

Table of contents

Page 1. The long road home

Page 3. The genius

Page 5. The fish fry

Page 10. The mountain

Page 15. The neighbor’s wife

Page 18. The thief

Page 21. The accident

Page 26. The toilet

Page 29. The lie

Page 32. The ring

Page 36. First love

Page 39. The runaway

Page 46. The tombstone

Page 48. The train

Page 51. Life, the final adventure

The long road home

I hated those sandy summer roadsThe way some kids hate snakes and toadsGoing to my friends house from my ownA mile or two to moan and groan

One day, one summer, when I was five or sixMy bike had broken and I stopped to fixThat sand was hot under my bare skinOnly half way home from where I’d been

As hard as I tried I just couldn’t repairI’d just have to push and my feet were bareThe going was slow in that hot soft sandThis day sure wasn’t going as I had planned

Then came some clouds that shaded the groundAnd the cool rain drops fell all aroundThey improved my mood made me less forlornUntil that light rain tuned into a raging storm

Hurrying now, getting drenching wetBut the worst of the storm had not come yetThat muddy old road slowed me a great dealMade me feel much worse than I thought I could feel

2.

I suddenly felt helpless and I started to cryI could not move that bike and I’d no longer tryI finally gave up and gave into my fearI know no one could help for no one was near

How quickly fear can change into lost prideThey were only raindrops, not tears, I liedMy uncle had found me and taken me homeHe taught me that you’re never, completely, alone

The genius

In second grade I was still pretty goodTrying hard in school the way that I shouldAn awfully good student but not a teacher’s petI hadn’t discovered that I hated school yet

One day in my class of drawings to be madeA note had been sent by my Aunt in third gradeFrom teacher to teacher requesting for me toCome to her classroom and a problem to do

I was a little bit frightened, yet curious tooJust what could Aunt Thelma want me to doHer class was much older and smarter than meDid she think I was smarter than I was able to be

She asked me to add two plus two which was fourThen she asked what would happen if you add one four moreI thought for a second then quickly said eightThen I started to leave but she told me to wait

She asked me if eight was four plus one more fourWhat would you have if you added two moreI could suddenly see that four fours were sixteenI had learned multiplication as her class had all seen

4.

She asked me some others and I must have done goodI answered them all the very best that I couldI felt so important in front of her third gradeKnowing they couldn’t make all the answers I’d made

As quick as my ego had grown out of sizeSo out of proportion as I’d realizeWhen one of her students said he is so brightAunt Thelma said, no, you’re just dumb, is more right

The fish fry

My early youth was spent in a townWith ranches and farms all aroundOne the greatest show on earth had startedUntil the first winter when it departed

My family’s land stretched far and wideI had so many places where I could hideReally good people were most of my kinI was a happy young boy way back then

One day my daddy and my Uncle JamesRichel Michel he called me for his pet nameWent to a lake that borders our stateTo catch small mouth bass without using bait

James and my dad were both pretty goodAnd to catch bass with a lure, they always couldAt seven years old I just wouldn’t waitFor a lure to work so I’d always use bait

Now I’d never really caught that many fishBut I sure knew how to fix a mighty good dishEven at seven I’d learned how to cookFood pretty good I’d make smell, taste, and look

6.

That just might be why they would take me alongAnd if that was so I don’t think it was wrongFor I always had a very good timeFishing was their job, and the cooking was mine

That morning I watched as they paddled awayIn their fisherman floats for most of the dayI piddled in camp, I cleaned up the messSince I had no bait, I’d try a lure I guess

I walked to a point not far from our carIt looked like it’s raining in the water not farFrom where I was standing with my rod in my handThat it was not rain, I would soon understand

As the action got closer I was soon able to seeWhy minnows jumping had looked like raindrops to meThen I suddenly noticed how the water would churnAnd what caused all this action I quickly would learn

I cast our my lure right into that fake squallI got immediate reaction, oh my, what a ballAnd every time I cast out, I could reel me back inA nice small mouth bass, I got nine or ten

7.

Then just as quickly as the show had begunThe squall disappeared and ended my funBut my good-looking stringer of fish I would hideTo a tree in the water where I had them tied

Uncle James was the first to get back to the campHe was real hot and tired and his clothing was dampHe’d not caught a fish or had even a strikeSo down in the dumps that he just called me Mike

We looked and then saw my dad coming inJames yelled at my dad but looked saddened whenMy dad told us both that he’d had the same luck that dayAnd if we wanted to eat fish, we’d have to go pay

My heart was now pounding right out of my chestI ran for my stringer as they sat down to restThey probably figured that I’d lost my mindAs I jumped in that water, my stringer to find

But when I came back smiling, holding it highThey asked where I’d got them and said, don’t you lieWhen I told them my story they both understoodThe sand bass were schooling as each year they would

8.

That day it was me who’d provided the fishAnd without my good fortune there’d be no main dishBut to my great surprise James and dad went to seeWhere the Sandy’s were schooling, and left cleaning to me

I suppose I’d expected much more than you shouldOf two big time fishers and thinking they wouldAt least stay and help me, if not do it themselvesThey must be convinced it was all done by elves

As I watched as they left I knew it had to be doneI cleaned all of my fish and I was not having funI got out the skillet and began frying them rightBut while frying my fish the grasshoppers I’d fight

When I finished my fish I began on the friesGrasshoppers kept coming now thicker than fliesThe first pan made plenty for me, and some moreAnd if they knew what I did then, they’d surely be sore

I was a little disappointed and somewhat upsetI guess I just hadn’t quite forgiven them yetWith potatoes still cooking I just sort of stepped backOn how to get even I’d just figured the knack

9.

I watched as they sizzled and I watched as they diedAlong with the potatoes I watched as they friedJust like kamikazes the grasshoppers would diveInto that hot skillet where they couldn’t survive

James and Dad got to camp just as I got throughTheir timing just right just as if they both knewThe work had been finished and now they could eatAnd if they only knew about my special treat

I held back my smile the very best I was ableI watched as they both sat down at the tableJames mentioned the fries didn’t look quite like they shouldBut he agreed with my dad, though salty, very good

The mountain

It’s funny how trends can come and goSome last for years, some weeks or soWith neighbors, friends, or even familyWhen one to another a trend can be

All my aunts and uncles were of this kindWhen something interesting one of them findHaving one’s possession include one thing moreThe rest would go marching to that same store

I can remember when we got our first TV setI don’t think there was even a station yetBut because one uncle had bought one firstEvery one else had acquired that thirst

And then somebody purchased a clear plastic screenBrown bottom, blue top, and the middle was greenAnd if the scene was just perfect on black & white TVThrough that screen, a color picture, you were able to see

I can remember there being Harley’s all aroundIn barns or just rusting lying out on the groundI heard stories about all of the wonderful funUntil the interest just seemed lost to everyone

11.

Then two came to be blessed with much more cashAnd they pulled ahead of the pack in a very short dashThe rest couldn’t catch up, two had gone much too farThey’d each gone a purchased a new Cadillac car

But their good fortunes of course they would shareThey planned a vacation for everyone thereWith trailers packed full behind those automobilesThey set out through the flatlands and on to the hills

My dad and I had decided to goMy mom and my sis said they just didn’t knowWhy any person would enjoy being cooped upLike two cups of popcorn in a small coffee cup

I really was feeling so very aliveMy first real vacation since I was just fiveYes three years since I’d even left the stateI would finally see mountains and I couldn’t wait

Those Cadillac’s were both equipped with airSomething new to enjoy for everyone thereBut they must be turned on with the vehicles stoppedFour times we forgot, and four fan belts were popped

12.

When we saw the mountains, and not very farWe asked my uncle to please stop the carWe wanted to get out and run to the firstIt looked like a mile or two at the worst

But Danny and I were both very surprisedWhen how far away they were, we realizedWe just drove and drove through New Mexican heatWith us two young boys on the edges of our seat

But suddenly the car began to ascendThat beautiful mountain that we thought a friendAnd we felt like we knew it, we’d watched it so longLike a favorite movie or favorite song

Our clan had decided to stop for some lunchOur excitement had spread now to the whole bunchI remember the silence as us men looked aboutWhile the women were getting the food stuff out

I think me and Danny had taken off at a runAfter such a long drive we would now have some funMy first real life mountain except old Mount ScottI now had to question if Mount Scott was or not

13.

As we started climbing I was feeling so braveAnd the beautiful views could sure make you a slaveClimbing higher and higher we both felt the sameMike and Danny, Edmund Hillary, would now be our name

When we got to the top we looked all aroundIn our silent moment we could both hear the soundOf the persistent yelling from far down belowTo come down and eat lunch and get ready to go

The top half sloped gently and we crawled right alongJust taking it easy while we whistled a songBut at halfway it seemed to just drop straight downAnd our happy young faces we changed to a frown

Coming up seemed so easy, we could not understandHow it could be so impossible to get back to flat landWe yelled down our dilemma with such certain hopeThey’d send us a helicopter or send up a rope

If they’d been up there and had seen what we sawI’m sure they’d have set that square family jawAnd said, boys you’re right, this is much too steepSo while we go for help, boys, you’re places just keep

14.

Things just didn’t work out the way that they shouldWe were made to just slide down the best that we couldI knew we would die but at least they’d feel badAnd our crushed little bodies might make them feel sad

We got back down to the bottom, some how, some wayAnd the effects are still with me to this very dayMy knees just stop working, my heart pounds a beatIf I don’t have a ‘chute’ on above thirty feet

The neighbor’s wife

I was just a kid, or so they thoughtBut were they right, well maybe notIt’s so hard to determine at nine or tenI didn’t know either until then

My family had moved in the fallTo the town for my father’s beloved footballAnd a better schooling for sis and meWith brand new sights for me to see

That school year went as school years goI made new friends who didn’t really knowMuch more than me about sex and girlsBut we knew we liked their smell and curls

We kept alert for all things saidIf it mentioned sex, then it was readWe shared knowledge, both right and wrongAnd became very confused before very long

By spring my mom knew the neighbor’s wellAnd the local gossip she would hear and tellMy favorite rumor was of the lady next doorInstead of paying her bills she’d just be a whore

16.

I wondered if these things were trueI wondered if her husband knewDid they not have the money to payOr did she just get lonely while he was away

I thought about this woman a lotI wanted to know if it were true or notI suppose that she represented to meA source of knowledge I wanted to see

One night as I was walking homeI noticed that she was not aloneHer husband’s car was not in sightAnd inside was music and candlelight

I moved up close to her screen doorNow I was able to see so much moreIn the laps of a stranger and our milkman AlIn only their panties sat her and some gal

What I did next I regret to this dayWhat might I have seen if I’d had guts to stayI went home to my room and thought of next doorHow exciting it was, she was really a whore

17.

From that night on she meant more to meI watched her real close to see all I could seeI knew she could show me just what I should knowIf I were just older with money to blow

One day she called and I answered the phoneHer husband was gone, I knew she was aloneShe asked if I would mind mowing her yardShe’d give me a dollar, it shouldn’t be hard

I shrieked that I’d love to and hung up the lineI’d cut her grass perfect and in record timeAnd then for the payment I would be a palI’d work it out with her just like milkman Al

I started mowing her front yard firstShe brought me some koolaid to help quench my thirstThis proved that she liked me, my heart pounded fastI was fixin’ to learn all those sex things at last

By the time I was finished I could then barely walkMy knees were like jelly, my lips couldn’t talkI will always remember that moment, that dayWhen she gave me a dollar, the wrong kind of pay

The thief

It seems that no matter how much you makeWhether gold or silver or just bread to bakeWhen paying your bills or just buying stuffThere never, ever, seems to be quite enough

At eight years old I had a good paper routeBy ten I’d discovered what work was aboutI had made that route as easy as restAnd for making money, it was sure the best

I always had money for all candy barsAnd I rather fancied those bubble gum cigarsFor birthdays and Christmas I’d put some asideBut from myself, I just couldn’t hide

Sometimes a big spender and sometimes really tightI checked all my pockets most every nightIt seems I would spend all my dollars and changeThe bills larger than fives I would hoard and arrange

So I developed my personal savings planSpend my dollars and change just as fast as I canBut before I would break a twenty or a tenI’d ask myself who, what, where, why and when

19

One Saturday when I had gone to a showI felt there was something that I should knowWhen the movie was over I got up from my seatAnd then I remembered the feeder for our parakeet

I’d forgotten Mom had laid out the money I’d needBy the parakeet gravel and the parakeet seedBut I knew I must have plenty on me to buySo I went down the street to our local T G & Y

When I entered I naturally looked all aroundA bubble gum cigar and candy bar I foundThe I picked up the feeder and checked on my cashBut to pay for all three I’d have to go to my stash

I don’t know what I must have been thinking that dayFor the cigar and the candy was all I would payIn my pocket the feeder was feeling so hotAnd experienced thief, I was certainly not

Even if the manager had not seen a thingJust the look on my face, suspicion would bringThe manager asked me if I had something hidI cried and confessed to that crime that I did

20

I must have looked so awfully sadIt must have made it hard for him to be madHe said I could go but I’d have to pay whenI don’t think he meant that it had to be then

Just the look on his face disclosed how he must feelWhen I dug out and handed him that ten dollar billFrom surprise to anger a split second can changeHe told me he had one more thing to arrange

I realized what I’d done after it was too lateCall it really bad luck or justice or fateIf I’d just kept quiet I’d have been on my way homeInstead of sick to my stomach as he picked up that phone

My Dad came to get me and I could tell by his frownAnd I felt terribly bad for so letting him downHis sad disappointment and his anger I heardWithout my father having to speak a word

The accident

Church camps are like heaven to the youngNot for religion, but for having funYoung teenage girls meet teenage boysThey have no need for other toys

At twelve I went with my friend BrentAt Falls Creek Camp, that summer was spentWe put up with all the prayers and songWhile choosing the girl to whom we’d belong

Brent chose a girl but my memory is vagueShe might have been Czech, for she was from PragueAbout thirty miles from our hometownPeculiar named towns were all around

I took my time and looked carefully aroundAfter a while two or three girls were foundI was nice to them all but I wouldn’t commitEach night while we sang, by a different one I’d sit

Then one day we went to swim at the fallsI went to the old restroom with cement and rock wallsThrough the ‘handwriting on the wall’ and omen was sent‘Martha loves Mike’ was written in old cement

22

I had searched so hard, I had searched so longBut now I knew my love would be Martha VaughnA Shawnee girl with long golden hairMy house to her house, twenty miles and I’m there

We took silent walks not sure what to sayWe couldn’t decide whether to hold hands or just playAlthough we decided we loved each other soWhere it went from there, neither one seemed to know

Then church camp was over, two weeks left until schoolWith our love building stronger, a pen now our toolI wanted to see her, and she wanted me thereYet when I asked my parents they seemed not to care

One day at our tree house, Brent Butler and I‘Tell Laura I Love Her’ we sang to the skyA sad song for Laura in Prague without BrentWe knew no songs with Martha so the same song I sent

Then I had an idea but our plan must be madeFor it was real hot, ninety eight in the shadeWe couldn’t ride fast, of this I was sureBut the girls far away were sure tempting a lure

23

We got on our bikes and flagged down a carWe asked him to pace us but not very farWe peddled beside with a speed we’d surviveHe told us we’d gone right at twenty-five

Allowing for stops and perhaps getting restIn Shawnee in an hour or two at the bestIf we stayed there an hour then the return trip we madeWe’d be back just in time, then tomorrow to Prague

We got on our bikes out on East Highway NineI was feeling so great and Brent said he felt fineWe hadn’t considered just how many steep hillsThey challenged our muscles, they challenged our wills

When we made Little Ax, just about half way thereBrent said, “let’s turn back” and I was too tired to careBy the bottom of the hill I was feeling forlornBut my sorrow was interrupted by the sound of a horn

Where now there’s a lake, Thunderbird it is called“Get off the road Brent, it’ll hit us”, I bawledJust how I knew I still don’t understandIt hit as I left pavement riding onto the sand

24

I remember my bike going under the carI recall jumping up but not going up farI felt something hit me, then off the road I did lieNot yet feeling pain but an uncontrollable cry

Brent rushed to my side saying “thank God you’re aliveThanks for letting me know, helping me to survive”It might have been luck or perhaps E. S. P.But what was going to happen had been so clear to me

Then out of the car came two older girlsCollege aged beauties wearing make-up and pearlsOne said she had panicked and slammed on the brakeAnd the car to go straight, she just couldn’t make

I still couldn’t stop crying and I wanted to soI was really so brave and I wished they could knowI still couldn’t move when the Trooper arrivedHe said I’d been lucky to have even survived

The girls said they’d be happy to give me a ride homeAnd help tell my parents so I wouldn’t face them aloneIt would make me feel better to ride home with themBut the Trooper said no, that we should ride home with him

25

Brent’s bike and mine were both put in the backWhat was left of mine could have fit in a sackOnce in the car he said we must be insaneI had to agree with my whole body in pain

When we got to my house, my folks came out to seeWhy the Highway Patrol in this area would beWhen he got out my bike, my folks both looked paleIt wasn’t my fault, the Trooper stressed in his tale

I don’t think they cared what the fault might have beenI started to realize just what trouble I was inThey put me to bed, they didn’t need me to talkTomorrow, however sore, my paper route I would walk

The toilet

At twelve you think that you’re so, so, coolOr at least I sure did at my old schoolUntil the last day of my seventh gradeWhen I learned how to be so very afraid

I was big and I was real strongBut I was fair and seldom was wrongAdults thought that I was so very niceNeeding their praise was my biggest vice

From everyone I craved their respectFor a young girl’s heart I’d break my neckTo impress a friend I’d go way too farFor I just had to be a great star

Now on that day a guy he hadA cherry bomb and it was badTo have it there at our schoolAnd that sure made this fellow cool

He asked me if I had the gutsAnd if I really had the nutsTo do a deed that was so neatThat peers would worship at our feet

27

He said he had a plan worked outHe told me what it was aboutFlush the firecracker down the boy’s commodeAnd under the girl’s room it would explode

We thought it would be just so coolIt’d be the talk of our whole schoolHow water shot from the stools and sinkMaking the girl’s room really stink

So I lit the fuse and dropped it inPushed the lever for the flush to beginI watched in horror as I foundInstead of down, it went round and round

It was too late to start againAnd as I watched the red bomb spinIf only I’d not been in such a rushI might have made just one trial flush

I turned to run toward the doorI felt the tremor in the floorWith water dripping from my hairAnd porcelain chips just everywhere

28

Yet luck was with me on that dayA right turn helped us get awayWith three more hours of class to goAnd if we left, they’d be bound to know

I cleaned myself as best I couldKept to myself as I knew I shouldFeeling sick as I had ever beenKnowing the trouble that I was in

Each time I heard the intercom soundFaster and faster my heart would poundBut older boys were called one at a timeNow two more hours and I might be fine

Two years or two hours, who could tellI’ll never forget my time in hellI promised that never ever againWould I consider any kind of sin

The lie

Despite the problems my Dad hadWhat he provided was not so badHis handicaps couldn’t keep him downHe was well respected in our town

I learned from him that success is when youAre the best at the job you’re hired to doIt’s not as important the status of your careerAs being respected, honest and sincere

These were the values that guided my wayAnd in jobs that I had I received more payThan workers around me who couldn’t understandFor they’d not been guided by Dad’s one good hand

I always tried to make him proud of meBy being the best I could possibly beBut sometimes my efforts were doomed to failLike the unfortunate outcome of this little tale

Back then Dad’s hobby was catching big fishBut the only fish I had were served in a dishI didn’t have enough patience or maybe the knackWhen I’d go with him fishing, no fish I’d bring back

30

One day Dad took me to new Draper LakeI was bound and determined some fish I would takeThis trip would be business, set aside having funI’d make my dad proud, ‘like father’, like son

I tried catching catfish I tried catching perchI had no luck with either so I expanded my searchI baited for crappie I casted for bassI had one desperate plan I was saving for last

Earlier that day I had noticed a placeWhere two catfish were swimming in a big concrete caseThey mush have been put there, they could not have swam inBoth over twelve inches from head to tail fin

With the day nearly over I thought of those twoI reeled in my line and knew what I would doI went to that case and I caught both of themI knew dad would be proud when I showed them to him

His luck, too, was bad, the fish wouldn’t biteBut he smiled his approval at the marvelous sightOf two large catfish from the rope they were tiedWhere and how I had caught them I totally lied

31

As we walked up the hill from the lake to the truckNo human could have ever had any worse luckTwo men were sitting on the porch of the storeThey looked at my fish and asked if I’d like more

They pointed down the hill at that big concrete caseMy guilt was apparent on my reddening faceI would rather they’d killed me for the crime I had doneThan to have my dad shamed for the lie of his son

The ring

When I was in grade school I was to go steadyWith Donna Long before her mom thought her readyI just can’t remember what became of that ringThe one that I gave her on my very first fling

Then with Charlotte Kantowski I just sort of liedAnd if she found out I would surely have diedI was so short of money when the moment was rightA cheap ring and story, I gave her that night

I decided that after that embarrassing timeOf living a lie and walking such a thin lineFearing my love might learn my deceitAnd throw her disgust and my ring at my feet

I saved up my money until I could affordReduced my candy habit and my funds I did hoardAnd when I had enough to Zales jewelers I wentFor an initial gold ring all my money was spent

For an eighth grader boy it must have been the bestAnd it certainly gained envy from all of the restMy fear I might lose it made me much more alertOf girls wanting to wear it and willing to flirt

33

Jennifer, my sister, was just older than meReal popular in school and as cute as could beHer friends had for years come over to playSometimes for all night and sometimes just the day

When they needed a partner to learn some new danceThey knew I was willing to give them a chanceAnd it gave me an edge over boys my own ageTo the girls in my class I was the dancing rage

A fair exchange from one teen to anotherSisters to me, I was their little brotherAlthough they were all very cute you seeI was not attracted to them nor them to me

Then one day a new girl came to our schoolThis ninth grade beauty made all the boys droolEven my class had seen her and wanted her soBut that we were too young even we should know

To my great delight and somewhat surpriseI just couldn’t really believe my own eyesWhen Jennifer came home and with her she hadGorgeous Linda Dumas, our school’s newest fad

34

This was the first girl who had been to our homeWho was not like a sister and forever I’d knownI just sort of watched her as quiet as a mouseAnd followed her and my sister all over the house

She showed me attention and made me feel goodShe found reasons to touch me much more than she shouldI had to fall for her, and under her spellIf she was just teasing then time would tell

She soon began spending much more time with meThan she did with my sister who was starting to beA little suspicious of Linda’s desireAll I knew was my heart was completely on fire

When we finally went steady with Linda wearing my ringI walked somewhat taller and my ego could singThe boys in my classes all envied me soThen Jen had to tell me something I needed to know

My ring was so perfect with that big letter ‘M’That it was Mike Smith’s and she’s going with himWas what Linda was spreading all over the townShe was an older guy’s steady and I was a clown

35

For my ring she had used me, I’m now sure of thisBut she sure had well taught me the right way to kissWhether used for a Mike, a Kevin or StevenThe fun that I had makes me think we were even

First love

I liked to skate and I loved to flirtI’d do them both and never get hurtAt fifteen you’re still too young to driveSo Skateland helped me to survive

I watched the girls go round the placeThey still wore curls and lots of laceEach night I’d skate with one or twoIn that year I had ‘gone’ with very few.

I hadn’t seen her there beforeI watched her skate around the floorI asked her if she’d skate with meThat’s when me and Karen Offenburger came to be

We liked each other from the startShe pledged her soul, I pledged my heartWe shared our secrets, we shared our fearsWe explored desires meant for future years

So very soon we had becomeSuch an envied couple, two as oneSo very young, yet old enough to knowOur love had been born with time it would grow

37

We’d go on walks and we’d find a placeCompletely hidden from the human raceShe would kiss me deeply not like a childStarting my emotions to running wild

I would lose my senses in the feelOf her lips and body so close and so realI would find such excitement from the touchOf this wonderful girl I’d grown to love so much

She was so considerate to share with meSo generous and sweet to let me seeThose things that us boys were craving soBut girls weren’t supposed to let us boys know

I learned from Karen that us boys were wrongThat most girls were dancing to the very same songKaren had deep inside her that same desireBoth our runaway hormones were surely on fire

We each enjoyed greatly each others feelNew thoughts in young minds already a’reelExploring and learning, experiencing allThrough spring and the Summer and into the Fall

38

I wish I had kept that poem that I wroteFor my dearest Karen along with a noteSaying my mother thinks we shouldn’t beAny longer a couple but I didn’t agree

I thought that some poetry might help her someBut I watched her read it then cry and runI wanted to stop her and to let her knowThree seasons we’d had, there’d be more to go

But I considered how hard it’d been this farSo I just yelled goodbye and got into my carI just needed some time to raise hell and to thinkTo just screw around and to smoke and to drink

Some things just never work out as you planYou can never go back like you think you canAlthough I just threw that first love awayI have fond memories of Karen to this very day

The runaway

I didn’t have my own car yetBut the family car I could often getAs I did for a special date with Miss McKnightUntil with my sister I had a stupid fight

It was just my excitement now I can seeAnd anticipation that had made me to beA total jerk to my sis, mom, and dadBut at that moment I was certainly mad

It was in November and rather coldBut I was angry and feeling boldSo with just a jacket and not much cashI took off on foot on my two-week dash

I stood alongside I-thirty fiveFeeling slightly scared but so aliveI felt as though I was already grownBecause all alone I was leaving home

The cold wind told me which way to goOn my face I could feel that north wind blowWatching cars speed by with my thumb held highUntil I finally got a ride with an Army guy

40

He was on his way back to his assigned postTwo hundred miles closer to the Galveston coastWhere I had decided that I’d like to beFor you see, I had never, been to the sea

He let me out so very late at nightA place there was so very little lightCars trucks and vans just sped on byI was so very cold and near ready to cry

Then I noticed a truck parked just up aheadSo I decided to walk up to it insteadOf trying in vain to catch a moving rideI had to get warm and I needed inside

I climbed on the ladder and peeked in the truckThe glass felt so warm, I was surely in luckI knocked on the window till the driver awokeThings were sure going fine till that driver spoke

He said that he thanked me for waking him nowHe had slept way too long then he told me howHis company’s policies would never permitMe to ride along or even get in and sit

41

I watched as he pulled out and headed awayI feared I might not live to the next dayThen a Texas State Trooper passed but turned back aroundRenewing my spirit and I must not be found

An independent trucker finally gave me a rideI felt the warm cab as I climbed up insideHe was going to Cow Town he said with a smileHe said I could warm up and sleep for a while

I woke up at the truck stop just as he pulled inI asked for directions and said how nice he’d beenFor a doughnut and coffee I would quickly payI just felt in a hurry to be again on my way

That morning got warmer as I walked alongI felt so very much better that I whistled a songThis was my adventure and I felt so goodI knew I could make it and make it I would

Several short rides got me to a small townSo pretty and clean that you just couldn’t frownThe first real southern people that I’d ever metWalking in from the north hid what I’d not seen yet

42

In the center of town a railroad track ranWhat I found when I crossed I’ll explain if I canDay and night black and white different as it could beAnd I suddenly disliked little Waxahachie

A lesson I learned and learned very wellWhat might look like a Heaven could be hiding HellSo southward I traveled and left it behindI just wanted to get that town out of my mind

That day I was lucky with rides going downThat interstate highway to Galveston townFrom a lady a lecture, from two guys some beerFrom the last man the words that the ocean was near

I stood on the seawall that night by the seaI let the smell, feel, and sounds simply penetrate meForgetting all of my problems was easy to doWhile tasting the mist that the ocean breeze blew

I just can’t remember how long or how farI walked before finding that small oyster barBeside the hotel with the fifty cent adFor a meal and a room enough money I had

43

I woke up the next morning and went back to the beachThen retracing my footsteps I was hoping to reachThat interstate highway that might take me homeFor I realized now that I was broke and alone

But then, just as now, the sea influenced meJust how mighty it was and weak I would beTo go crawling home with nothing but shameI vowed right then to never do that to my name

I figured that Houston would be my best betA job and a room were the first things to getIn a car going north I rode till I foundA huge shopping center as large as my town

It was just about lunchtime when I walked inThat small lunch counter was busiest thenThat he was shorthanded was obvious to meAnd my last two jobs were in restaurants you see

I talked to that owner and asked for a tryI worked through that rush hour under his watchful eyeHe liked what he saw but he asked me my ageI lied and I acted as if I were on stage

44

I now had a job with meals part of my payI told him that I could start work the next dayI then found a lady with one room to rentOn payday I’d pay her, my money’s all spent

I washed my clothes each night before bedBoth days before payday when I bought more insteadWith just enough money left to get me byAfter paying my rent, I felt so very high

I discovered a restaurant, Bill Bennets, I thinkA two-story restaurant where I stopped for a drinkAnd as I was leaving I paid at the doorAt the one lonely register for both first and top floor

They had really great seafood that now I did craveIt might have been stupid or might have been braveOn the first floor just coffee, the second a full mealPay the first floor’s check, the second’s check I would steal

On that Thanksgiving Day I went back to the seaSpent the day on the beach, just the land crabs and meI caught one in a jar and took it back to my roomNow it was about time, I’d be heading home soon

45

That Friday was payday, I quit after my shiftPaid my rent then my landlady gave me a liftTo the road going north and I soon got a rideI had money in my pocket and confidence inside

Getting back was no problem, the rides came and wentFor meals and one room my money was spentI felt good in my travels until I got nearWould I be in real trouble was now a real fear

When I walked in the house and faced my mom and dadThey didn’t act happy but didn’t act madThey asked if I were staying or just stopping inAnd would I mind saying just where I had been

After that day my folks and I understoodI could survive by myself, if I had to I couldI wasn’t quite grown but it wouldn’t be longUntil adventure would call and again I’d be gone

The tombstone

Teenage boys just aren’t very smartMaybe slightly more when they are apartBut the larger the group, the lower the IQI can prove this with what I’ll be telling you

One day while driving around in my carAnd drinking some beer from a mason jarI met some friends who were also boredAnd soon we became a Mongrel hoard

We drank beer and talked about school and girlsHow you tolerate school for the cute girl’s curlsAnd just how to satisfy both of these needsFor cultivating this adventure, those were the seeds

Our school had a lightwell down the hallWithout a roof and an all glass wallWe decided that lightwell needed something neat thereSomething only a brave group would ever dare

We drove around looking for what it might beWe just kept on driving to see what we might seeThen that graveyard sign on the highway aheadAnd we knew we were destined to disturb the dead

47

We picked out a tombstone large and oldAnd as we lifted it felt so very coldYet something told us it would surely be fineIf we also included that graveyard’s sign

So we loaded them both into my car’s trunkWe weren’t quite sober but not quite yet drunkWe borrowed a wagon and found us a chainSteve, both Jims, Randy, and me and Wayne

We pulled the little wagon with the tombstone insideThrough a football field it’s not easy to hideBut we finally made it to the school’s wallWe tied the chain around so the stone couldn’t fall

We worked and finally got it up on topWe must not wake up that old school copWe found the lightwell and dropped them inThat stone tombstone, steel chain, and sign of tin

It was sure the talk of the townAs I read the paper I read with a frownThey asked for a confession so authorities could knowWhat graveyard around that tombstone should go

The train

When I’m asked about these scars on my shinsI think of adventures and all of my sinsThose courageous acts and dastardly deedsYet an outright lie is what this story needs

My senior class had decided that a tripTo Springlake Park might be really hipAs sure as Richard Michael is my real nameThese scars are from dragging behind a kiddie train

I had some Vodka and Wayne had some GinWe followed the bus ‘cause his car we were inBy the time we arrived we were in no painAnd to ride all those rides was simply insane

But we rode the Big Dipper, we rode the Wild MouseGot on the Calypso, played in the FunhouseDrank more liquid courage and leaned out of the ridesNot really impressing the girls but boosting our prides

Silly and childish and not very much funJust riding around the park slowly under the sunThis sweet little choo-choo just wasn’t my styleBut my friends said, come on, let’s ride for awhile

49

So we all got aboard and chug-chugged alongIt’s wheels made the music and we sang the songI had to admit that it mellowed me soI felt somewhat childish but nobody must know

I sipped some more Vodka and thought of a planHolding onto the last car behind it I ranAt just the right speed with big steps I could takeNow this is the type of impression to make

They told me to get back up into the carBut I hadn’t been running so very farI laughed and just said I was having my funA lot further than this I was able to run

They said there’s a bridge up ahead I could dieI laughed and I scoffed, sure guys, good tryYou guys have your fun as safe as you’ll beBut unless it’s more risky, it’s no fun to me

Then the gravel just vanished and so did the groundI reached with my feet but no footing was foundI hung from that car, seemed an hour or twoJust suspended in time and not sure what to do

50

Then I was awaken and brought out of my tranceWhy have this outing and why not a danceWhy was I running and holding to this trainAnd as those steel rails hit me I then felt real pain

Those crossbars were just about two feet apartThe train’s speed made them each beat of my heartBut it sure seemed a long time from one bar to the nextMy life was sure cursed and must have been hexed

I tried pulling up to get back into the carThen be yanked back down when I’d hit the next barJust how many crossbars would it take to makeA bridge that could cross that little Spring Lake

“Why didn’t you let go” one of my friends said“You must have known all the crossbars ahead”“I didn’t’ want to break the bottle I had hid”Sacrificing my legs for that bottle I did

Life, the final adventure

It finally came, graduation dayAnd I was sure ready to go awayA friend and I were leaving my hometownWe were on our way, Acapulco bound

We hitch-hiked south and had a ballEnjoying the rain forest, beaches, people and allBut the time soon came when we must returnThere’s a war going on and medals to earn

For seven years I jumped out of planesExplored strange countries with stranger namesThought very lightly of risking my lifeAnd as always so lucky, I found the right wife

Since seventy-two we’ve shared what we’ve hadSome money some knowledge some good times some badMy wife finished her college then said with a kissTake some time off yourself and try writing this