Rendezvous in Chicago
- 4 years ago
- 34
- 0
Karen
I kept putting the hat carrier off. I didn’t want to go first, so I wasn’t taking any chances. When there were only three and me left I drew. The slip was sealed with tape. The last three drew.
The organizers called us all in a group.
“The numbers are sealed to prevent any switching.”
One guy carried a clipboard numbered to equal the number of shooters signed up. The contestants walked up to the clipboard man ... gave their name and handed the slip to him. The clipboard guy opened the slip an wrote down the name next to the number ... one number at a time.
The number slip was stashed in a pocket.
AAARRRGGGHHH! Nobody knows when they shoot!
“It’s all part of the game. You’ll start when called.”
When every number had been listed we all moved over to the Hawk throw.
“First runner! Karen Post!”
No! I don’t want to go first! I want to watch the others so I’ll know where to go! No! No! No!.
The seas parted and I had no choice ... Shit! Shit! Shit! I unlimbered my hawk and eyed the target ... I moved six inches back from my original stance and gave it all I had.
THWACK
Three judges started stopwatches.
It STUCK! Good God Almighty ... it stuck! and I was off and running to station number one.
At station one I carefully loaded, powder in the measure, replace the violin peg stopper.
Out loud I said, “POWDER-Patch-BALL ... short starter-patch knife-cut the patch-replace the knife-ram the ball-half cock-open the pan-prime-close the pan.”
I looked up the hill. Holy Shit ... a white painted steel buffalo at least a hundred yards up the hill. I threw up the gun to my shoulder-full cock-took my sight ... set trigger-caress the trigger.
BLAM! Ting!
I hit it ... I hit it! I killed the white buffalo ... umh ... isn’t that bad luck?
I was off again running to station two ... three strides and I was running in ankle deep water ... hydroplaning in three inches of water ... fresh water ... it wasn’t there yesterday ... and it was cold!
I have to lie on my back in this? Those dirty bastards brought in a water truck just for me ... OH JOY!
I reached station two ... a log on a slight hill ... the hill was just tall enough to keep me out of the water ... except for my feet. My patches were a strip of pillow ticking cut from a yard of cloth. I’d been chewing that strip since I started the run.
“POWDER-Patch-BALL ... short starter- grab my patch knife-cut the patch-replace the knife-ram the ball.” Half cock. Knee up and look for a target.
On the way up I saw a stuffed pink Easter bunny on the other side of the log. Shoot it? I set it on fire I was so close. Off and running ... skating on water and wet grass.
Station three. I was sure of the station ... it was the only one with a site marshal ... and a small aluminum canoe. The canoe was upside down.
“Back to the hill. Load ... turn ... take your shot.” A painted steel cut out of an indian holding a knife to a white woman’s throat.
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Chuck “American Automobile Association. How may I assist you?” “My mom...” “One moment, please.” “Yes, Ma’am.” I’m certain she didn’t hear me. I dithered. The sound of a connection: “Is your mom a member?” “She says she is.” “May I have her particulars. please?” “Well, she’s peculiar...but I don’t know about particular.” A chuckle. “By particulars I mean her name...” “Mom.” “So I assume...what name does she give when introduced to other people?” “Cora Jo or Mrs....
Cora Charles said, “Turn left, mom ... your other left.” He reached in his pocket and hauled out a Sharpie. Before I could stop him he wrote a huge R on my shifter hand, reached across and put an L on the other. Then he said, “Maybe we won’t have to make so many U-turns in the middle of freeway traffic.” “Charles William! I do not make U-turns on the freeway!” That required giving it a think, “Well, maybe once or twice.” I made my U-turn so I could go to Charles’ left. I looked around....
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Cora Ya know ... holding that big ziplock full of dreams ... I missed my man. Take that anyway you wish. I laughed. Chuck looked the question. Back down the road a piece, there was a sort of a visitors center ... kinda. A wide spot with a pull off that made a turn or two and ended up in a parking lot. There was a sign board commemorating the Show of Shows. It listed the bands ... some of whom I’d never heard of ... and some of the eventual greats; Santana, Hendricks, Grace Slick and the...
Cora Asia snatched the ziplock baggie out of my hand and sprinted it over to the person I assumed was her father. “Here, Zen,” she said. Or maybe not. Most children don’t refer to their parents by their first names. Who am I kidding? David IV always called us Dave and Cora. Beck didn’t start calling me Cora until she moved out of my house and Charlie never did ... mostly ... never did. The two grown women were making a beeline towards the man but when I supplied the bag they made a severe...
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Cora Just outside of Binghamton, I said, “You’re tall enough. Wanna learn to drive?” “If you’re going to teach me? No.” “Gee, thanks Chuck.” “You’re welcome, mom.” “No, I was thinking about driving school. I’ve heard of defensive driving and there’s several places that teach it.” “Are you going to learn too?” “Why? I drive just fine,” I said. “I was thinking if you took the school, too, I wouldn’t drive better than you,” he said. “Although ... it wouldn’t take much.” “What?” “Mom...
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Hairy “You fellas want to tell me where and when I am?” “I was in Texas in 1976.” “What am I going to do for money?” Hmm. “Lottery ticket.” I had to give that a good long think. “This ticket belongs to the guy who owns this shirt.” “Maybe so. But I’m an honest idiot.”
Hairy “You fellas pick the damnedest destinations for a road test.” Now ... I have to admit ... I was in better shape. This body was tweaked when I took over management but it was still a bit weak. Staying at the Kiwanis Campground might be free, but it’s at the tip of the 21/3 runway and it can be a touch noisy. The PBY 6A parked wherever they parked it. A pair of P&W 1,200 hp R-1830-92 engines with stub exhaust is loud. The bunch...
Hairy We drove along in silence. I could feel her eyes on me. That she was nervous went without saying. I ignored her. She wasn’t a beauty ... but she had a quiet loveliness that grows on you. Can you think of anything worse than ignoring a pretty girl? Even though I hate Interstate travel, I stuck to 90 when I could and Old US 10 when I couldn’t. Livingston, Big Timber, Reed Point, Columbus, Park City, and Laurel, Montana went by with scarcely a look. Billings is a sad town, but it is...
By Sunday the place was livable. I had a lock on Karen’s bedroom door and she had both keys. I had the washhouse cleared and the coal fired hot water heater hooked up to the the gasoline Maytag. The Maytag was already there. Karen hinted me to death so I took out the old electric stove and hooked up the even older wood range. That meant a journey to Ranchester Ranch Supply for a chainsaw, fuel, bar oil, files, axes, wedges, a sledgehammer. While I was there I arranged for Kewitt Coal to...