Depression SoupChapter 3 Bad Medicine
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Depression SoupChapter 2: Medicine Show free porn video
Pa came in from the fields about sun down, walking stiffly, his body bent over at an odd angle. "We got any of the arnica liniment left, Hon? I think I really pulleed something this time
"Lie down on the table, Walter, and I'll see what we have left in the medicine chest," Ma told him. She came back in a little bit and said, "There's just this tiny bit left, dear. I'll rub it on."
Pa took off his shirt and lay face down across the kitchen table, a long harvest table long enough to seat ten. I could see the knotted muscles in the small of his back. His arms were hanging off the sides of the narrow table. "By God that hurts."
"Walter Hansen, there will be no swearing in my house." No matter how hurt a person might be, it was no excuse to use profanity in my mother's house. She was so stiff and unbending about some things. At times it was hard to recognize this rigid woman as being the same quick to laugh person I was proud to call "Ma."
Pa didn't answer as he tried to find a comfortable position. Ma poured the strong smelling potion on his back and began to rub it in. She massaged and kneaded his muscles until the knotting disappeared. "Oh lordy but it feels so good when you rub my back. You have until the middle of next week to stop it." Ma didn't say anything; she just smiled and kept working all of Pa's muscles. She kept it up until her hands were too tired to continue.
"Why stop now, just when you're really making it feel good? I swear I think you are starting to get weak on me Hon." The ridged muscles in his belly swelled as he rolled over and sat up. He reached out a big dirt-stained arm and hugged her close to him and kissed her on the cheek. "You're my favorite girl."
She smiled back and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "You're my favorite man for sure." I hated it when they got all mushy because I always felt left out. They would seem to go into a little world of their own where only the two of them fit in. I always felt left out. But I also well knew those antics were a part of what made my parents so special.
They had the very rare ability to openly express their love without being maudlin about it. I followed Pa as he slowly headed back outside. He had left the horses ground hitched by the back door when he came inside to have Ma work on his back. What "ground hitched" means is the horses had been trained to stop and not move when the reins were dropped. It was common practice to teach horses to stay ground hitched in those days. Then if a man incapacitated in some way, they wouldn't step on him or walk off and leave him.
"Let me help, Pa," I said to him. There really wasn't much I could do because the heavy harness was more than a young boy could handle. Also our workhorses were Percherons. Big Boy, our stud, stood just eighteen hands high across the shoulders. The five mares were all well over sixteen hands high. There was no way I could unharness them without tangling the leathers up in a mess even if I could lift it down off them.
"I'll take the harness off and you can help me drag it into the tack room. Then I want you to take them on down and turn them out into the pasture," he told me. He was still quite stiff and a little bent over, as he favored his injured back. Back injuries were about the most common "minor" injuries on a farm. A person learned to accommodate pulled muscles and injured disks. So many older farmers walked stoop shouldered because of all the too many small injuries through the years. He pulled the bridles off and handed me the lead ropes. The horses still had their halters on.
I held them while Pa laboriously removed the harnesses from the horses and hung them up on the heavy pegs in our tack room, a small lean-to shed right outside the big double doors of the barn. Some folks hung their harnesses inside the barn along the wall. But Pa liked them kept separate.
I led the two big animals away and when we got to the pasture gate, they followed me on through. The great gentle beasts lowered their heads down to my level so I could unhook the lead ropes. Then as soon as the ropes were off them, they snuffled and snorted and shook their heads to celebrate their freedom from any restraint. They slowly walked over to the water tanks to drink
When I got back, Pa was in the house again, lying on the table. This time Ma was rubbing "Doctor Doogan's Horse Liniment (Good for man or beast.)" into his back. His back was still hurting him a lot. "We're out of both Sloan's Liniment and your Doogan's concoction," Ma told him. "You got it all on your back, Walter."
"I believe the travelin' medicine man will be in Fairview next Saturday." Pa said, referring to Sam Doogan's medicine show. "Maybe we can go see his show and stock up on it. It is some real powerful smelling stuff he sells, but it does the trick. His salve works plenty good on cuts too."
Ma had her lips pursed thinly. "If he has some hootchy cootchy dancer again this year, David and I shall stay away. And I don't want you hanging around one minute longer than it takes to buy your liniment. You know I do not abide with the shameless spectacle of an unclothed woman parading herself before men. It isn't moral or decent."
"Honey, you know you look just like a little song bird gettin' ready to peck some grain when you pucker your mouth up?" Pa grinned at her, "Besides, you're so much prettier than any cooch dancer I have been almost tempted to buy you some spangles to wear around the house just like the dancing woman had on. I never really noticed her much. Besides I never even saw those pink tights she was wearing. Yup, you'd look mighty fancy in a dancing get up cooking breakfast." I snickered at the thought of seeing Ma doing housework dressed in spangles and tights.
Pa knew just how to jolly Ma out of her self-righteousness when it got to be too much for him. She wiped her mouth to try to keep from grinning, but she grinned anyway. She tried to act like she didn't like it when he told her she was more eye pleasing than the hooch dancer, but she did. In fact, she liked it a lot. Later on, after I got married and settled down, I learned a secret about women. They all like to be sincerely complimented and have their finer qualities recognized and acknowledged. Come to think of it so do men.
The following Saturday evening, as soon as the milking was out of the way and the hogs were slopped, we headed into Fairview. Ma didn't make us any supper because we were going to splurge and "eat out." To me it meant a cherished hamburger complete with cheese and tomato and fried onions and dill pickles so sour they would make a statue pucker. Of course I would have my heavily salted French fries dipped in mustard. I didn't like the gravy where we were going in Fairview.
Ma would, as always, order the meat loaf and say, after a bite, "Mine's better." And Pa would have a chicken fried steak, potatoes and gravy. Maybe we weren't very adventurous, but we were consistent. Besides, what boy in his right mind would order anything else if he had his choice of a hamburger and fries? Of course, we didn't have pizza in those days.
Fairview was a small town and only had a town marshal. He also doubled as the sheriff's deputy for south end of the county. He drew two small paychecks and made enough to live on. Lester Green was a nice old man who was the unlikeliest policeman you could ever meet. He stood five and a half feet tall and was as wide as he was high in all directions. He got the job because his farm lost it's little remaining topsoil and he was cousin to the sheriff. It was said about his farm, "You couldn't raise a crop of rattlesnakes on it."
We were sitting in a booth at the New York Café when old Lester came in and greeted my folks. "What brings you into town this evening? Y'all come to take in the travelin' medicine show?"
"We ran out of the liniment Sam Doogan peddles," Pa said. "It works so good on stock animals and my back so I thought I had better stock up some while he's still in the area."
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