Thursday, February 28, 2013

Adios, Motherscooters!





On the last two days of 30-2 Days of Writing, I find myself not being able to contribute the last two installments of my stories. It makes me so sad. I've hung in there for a whole friggin' month, but have to end without a bang. And, believe me, there haven't been many incidents where I didn't end with a bang. Get it? Never mind.

I want to thank Nicky and Mike of We Work for Cheese for making me, forcing me, threatening me inviting me to participate in this painful exciting writing extravaganza! I didn't want to do it because I have a lot going on in my pitiful life right now. But I jumped in with both feet because I love Nicky and Mike. And you know what happened? They awakened my creative side again. So those two are responsible for anything that happens in the next year. If I get arrested, sued or photographed in a compromising situation, it is their fault. Congratulations, Nicky and Mike! This is like being a God parent. You get to pay my fines, bail and lawyer's fees. 

I wanted to end 30-2 Days of Writing with a big ending. However, it is not gonna happen. I have spent the last two days on the road and will spend all day tomorrow at a funeral. 

So with that being said, the stress of not writing for two days has gotten to me and that's why I got drunk and leaves you with the question is that all

Do not fear. Cooter, Buck and Bobby Lee are in deep shit and will be back.

Now, go have a shot of Wild Turkey and a cold Lone Star Beer. 

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Sister Mary Pissed Off of the Immaculate Ass-Whuppin



If you haven't been reading my series of stories, this post may not make much sense to you. Maybe you want to catch up with my country fried tale? Of course you do. I'm not pressuring you or anything (but you better catch up). You can go back if you want (and you do) and read the first story HERE, the second story HERE, the third story HERE, the fourth story HERE, the fifth story HERE, stories six-ten HERE, the eleventh story HERE and the twelfth story HERE

I want to thank John Fugelsang for inspiring this segment of my chicken-fried series. 

Now, go read all the other participants' stories. We only have two more days! I don't know whether to shit or go blind. I think I'll just have a drink.

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Ethyl and Buck were trying to stay out of everybody's way. Buck had lined up the shot glasses on the bar and Ethyl had filled them all with generous shots of Wild Turkey. Buck left the bottle on the bar so that Cooter could help himself. He was probably going to need it. Buck guided Ethyl over to the table near the bar.

"Buck, I wanted to stay at the bar."

"This isn't our business, Ethyl."

"Then let's go check on my house and see if the twister left it standing."

"Naw. I think I ought to stay right here to help referee this crew. Cooter is pretty strong and he's had a pretty rough day."

Barbara Sue's mini van came to a screeching halt in front of The Rack 'n Roll Pool Hall. She didn't even bother to close her car door as she ran through the front door. Her three young towhead boys were hanging out the window yelling at their mother. 

"Where is Bobby Lee?"

Buck stood up and met her at the door. He was taking his job as referee seriously. He didn't need any more damage done to his pool hall.

"He is gonna be okay, Barbara Sue."

"Let me see him."

Barbara Sue stopped short as she saw Bobby Lee squirming underneath the giant neon cross which had landed right on top of the pool table. 

"Bobby Lee!  Are  you alright?"

"Barbara Sue, get me out of here!"

"Buck, Cooter, help me get this cross off of him!"

Cooter motioned for Barbara Sue to join them at the bar. There was a  hushed conversation before Barbara Sue became very animated.

"He said WHAT?"

Then she walked back to her husband who was still underneath the heavy cross and stood staring at him in his ridiculous situation. Barbara Sue started laughing.

"Buck, you sure he's okay under there?"

"I think he is fine."

Bobby Lee started squirming frantically and started shouting.

"Buck, you son-of-a-bitch, get me out of here."

"He sounds fine, Buck. Just leave him where he is."

Barbara Sue walked back to the bar, grabbed a shot of Wild Turkey and sat down with the others  to join in the conversation.

Buck sat back down at the table with Ethyl. He had one eye on his woman and one eye on the group at the bar.

"Buck, I've been thinking..."

"Oh, shit."

"Don't say that, Buck. It's a good thing."

"The only time you think good thoughts, Ethyl, is late at night under the covers."

"I've been thinking that I want to become a nun."

"Oh, yeah? You know you can't have a sex life, right?"

"I'm not sure about that, Buck. Don't you read the papers? Priests seem to be a horny bunch."

"Ethyl,  you are a Baptist. You can't be a nun if you are a Baptist. You have to be Catholic."

"I don't know if you know this, Buck, but the glass ceiling has been broken. Women can be anything we want to be."

"But you have to be Catholic, Ethyl."

"I can convert."

"Why in the world do you want to be a nun?"

"I've been watching the news about the pope retiring and I think that a woman needs to be pope. I'm their woman."

"So what would you do if you were pope, Ethyl?"

"First of all, I would clean house. There would be no more single men running around in robes. Those men need to get some pants and get out in the real world."

"Well, I can't disagree with you on that one."

"Then I would round up all the child molesting priests and cut off their wienies."

"I think that might be against  the law, Ethyl."

"So is raping little boys."

"You have a point."

"Then I would turn the Vatican into a refuge for the poor and homeless."

"Oh, you are going to be real popular, Pope Ethyl."

"A church is supposed to help the poor and downtrodden. The Pope doesn't own the church just like Brother Bob doesn't own the First Baptist Church. You opened my eyes to that, Buck."

"What can I say? You are right, Ethyl."

"And all that gold, jewels and art is going to be sold for money to help people. Just think about it, Buck. The Catholic church is worth billions and billions of dollars. What if that money was spent on people in need?" 

"I hate to break the news to you, Ethyl, but I don't think a Baptist girl from Texas is going to be the next pope."

"Oh, I know that, Buck. I was just messin' with you. I just think those Catholics  need to consider a woman for pope. It sure couldn't  hurt."

At that moment, all hell broke loose at the bar.

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Barbara Sue, Cooter and I were having a calm conversation at the bar until Cooter started  blaming me for messing everything up. He did not understand that I was fed up with hearing the stories about me breaking Bobby Lee's heart. He couldn't understand why I would put my reputation and marriage on the line to teach Bobby Lee a lesson. Cooter just couldn't understand any of it.  Or he didn't want to.

Surprisingly enough, Barbara Sue totally understood my rationale. She was fed up with Bobby Lee's sad stories too.  She was not happy when Cooter pointed his finger at me and raised his voice.

"None of this bullshit would have happened if you hadn't agreed to go with Bobby Lee to that damn football field."

Barbara Sue stood up, grabbed my  hand and we stomped out of that pool hall. Barbara Sue unloaded all three of her boys out of the car, took them into the pool hall and sat them in and around Buck's lap. She grabbed Ethyl by the hand and led her out to the mini van to join us. Buck jumped up, scattering boys everywhere, and ran to the door.

"What are we supposed to do with these kids?"

As the mini van peeled out, Barbara Sue stuck her head out of the window.

"Deal with it!"




Monday, February 25, 2013

The Truth Will Set You Free. Or Will It?



The moment I heard the train coming, I knew I was in deep shit. You can't grow up in this part of Texas without experiencing tornadoes. In fact, my first memory in life centered around a tornado. I was only a year old when it happened, yet I clearly remember bits and pieces of that dreadful day. The tornado siren was wailing and the dark clouds were literally boiling overhead. My mother had me in her arms and she was running to a neighbor's yard to join the other women and children who were already safe in the storm cellar. We lived next door to  Barbara Sue and her mother was the self-appointed neighborhood tornado watch. Barbara Sue's mother was yelling for all the neighbors to run to the cellar. I remember my mother being scared which made me scared, so I was crying as I was carried  into the safety of the cellar.  Since it was the middle of the day, all the men were at work except for Roy, an elderly gentleman who had no children of his own. Roy mistook my cries  of fear for cries of  hunger and in hope of ending my crying, offered to get me a snack from his house across the street. All the woman begged Roy to stay in the cellar, but he would have none of it. He was going to be the man who was in charge of the neighborhood women. Several of the women stood outside and held the cellar door open so they could keep watch over Roy in his mission of mercy.  Just as Roy stepped off his porch with a small, red apple grasped firmly in his hand, a funnel dropped from the menacing cloud and touched down just yards from Roy. The women began screaming at Roy to run for his life. Roy reached the cellar just in time to slam the cellar door and grab the rope to anchor it shut as the freight train passed overhead. When the tornado had passed, Roy proudly walked down the steps to put the apple in my tiny hands. I never hear a tornado siren without thinking of Roy.

But this time there wasn't a tornado siren. The twister caught the town by surprise. Once I heard the freight train, I knew I had to get out of my trailer park. To say that trailers are tornado magnets would be an understatement. Cooter had left home earlier in the pickup truck, so my only means of escape was in Cooter's '47 Willys Jeep which he had converted into his hunting vehicle. Genevieve was the name he gave to his precious Willys Jeep. Although Genevieve was his pride and joy,  he never got a roof for her because Cooter claimed that he liked all his women topless. But I didn't have a choice. Top or no top, I had to get out of that trailer park.

It had already started raining so I grabbed a plastic WalMart bag and pulled it over my head as I jumped into Genevieve. I had gotten no further than the exit of the Shangri-La-La-La Trailer Park when the hail started. Neither Genevieve nor I needed more dents in our bodies, so we hauled ass down the dirt road looking for cover. We finally found shelter at the Washed in the Blood of the Lamb Church. I steered Genevieve under the awning which covered the old gasoline self-service area of the converted convenience store. Those neon crosses covering the old gas pumps were like beacons in the night guiding us to safety. The hail was pelting the old plastic awning so hard that I couldn't hear the sound of the freight train. When the baseball sized hail stones started falling and the plastic awning started breaking, I crawled under Genevieve for safety. It was at that very moment that the freight train arrived. I held on to Genevieve for dear life as the noise level became unbearable. I started praying to be saved when one of the neon crosses was ripped from the gas pump and flew through the air. Then just as suddenly as it had started, it was over. 

When I crawled out from underneath Genevieve, all I could think about was finding Cooter.  I had to make sure he was alive and well. I had no idea where to look for him, but decided that The Rack 'n Roll Pool Hall was a good place to start. Genevieve and I slowly made our way down the street weaving around uprooted trees and downed power lines. My heart was pounding fast as I got close to the pool hall and saw a smashed pickup truck  lying greasy side up on the sidewalk in front of the pool hall. Then I saw my dog, Buster, limping around the truck. It was then that I realized that the crumpled piece of metal was my truck. I jumped out of Genevieve and ran to the truck to see if Cooter was trapped inside. I couldn't breathe until I saw the truck was empty. I walked around the truck to verify that it was mine. I was sure it was mine when I saw the bumper sticker.


Don't drink and drive...
You might hit a
bump & spill some.

I picked up Buster and held him in my arms. He was so scared that he was shaking like he was trying to shit a peach seed. I put Buster in Genevieve to calm down while I headed into the pool hall.

I was relieved to see that the pool hall was in relatively good shape. There was broken glass and debris laying everywhere and, oddly enough, an old, pink icebox was sitting in the middle of the room, but the pool hall was intact. My eyes were trying to see through the dust hanging in the air when I saw Buck and Ethyl standing by a pool table in the corner with their heads hung as though in prayer. I felt as though my heart had stopped beating as I approached the pool table and saw the giant, neon cross from Washed in the Blood of the Lamb Church laying on top of a person. All I could see were fingertips and the toes of a pair of cowboy boots. My knees buckled. I looked at Buck and Ethyl.

"Cooter?"

"No. Bobby Lee."

A flood of relief washed over me followed by an intense feeling of guilt. Cooter wasn't crushed under the cross, but the man who was under the cross had been the object of my recent revenge. I approached the pool table.

"Bobby Lee, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I shouldn't have run to Barbara Sue to tell her what happened. I'm so sorry I threw you out of the truck. I shouldn't have gone with you to the football field in the first place. But if you will come back, Bobby Lee, if you will come back...I will go back to the football field with you. Please come back, Bobby Lee."

"Will you put out this time?"

I almost peed my pants when Bobby Lee spoke and the cross started to move.

"You sorry son-of-a-bitch!"

I turned on my heels to storm out of the pool hall when Buck stopped me. He put his arm around me and spoke in a fatherly tone.

"Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves."

When Buck said those words, I realized that he knew what I had done. I was humiliated and scared. I started crying and heading toward the door while Ethyl started questioning Buck.

"Buck, did you just make that up?"

"No. Confucius made that up."

"How do you know that, Buck?  I don't ever remember studying Confucius at Ima Hogg High School."

"I know more than you could ever possibly imagine, Ethyl."

"Did you read that in Reader's Digest, Buck?"

I had almost reached the front door when I heard a noise that made my heart stand still.

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"Get back in here."

I froze. It was Cooter's voice. I hadn't seen Cooter.  I turned around and saw him getting up from his sitting position on the floor in the corner.  I ran to him and helped him up.

"Oh, my gosh! Are you okay, honey? Are you hurt?"

"Not physically."

It was then that I realized that Cooter had heard my conversation with Bobby Lee.

"Come on, Cooter. Let me take you home. I have Genevieve outside."

"No. I want us to stay here and make sure Bobby Lee is alright. We were having a real interesting conversation right before the tornado hit. If he feels up to it, I would like for him to finish his story." 

"Cooter, you have been through a real traumatic experience. I think you probably need a drink and a nap. Let's go."

"A drink sounds like a good idea. Hey, Buck, if a bottle of Wild Turkey survived that big blow, pour us all a shot. Hell, pour Bobby Lee two."  

Cooter started picking up overturned bar stools and setting them upright at the bar as Buck lined up the shot glasses.

"Baby, why don't you call Barbara Sue and have her get over here. She needs to see Bobby Lee before we get that cross off of him. She might find some humor in all of this."

Cooter handed me his cell phone as he sat on a stool, patted the stool next to him and knocked back a shot of Wild Turkey.

"C'mon, baby. Come sit down and tell me your side of the story. Just don't make the mistake of making me wonder if it's fact or fiction."

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Indigo threatened me if I skipped a day on my story entry, but it's like this, Blue Man...
there was this big bucket of ice cold beer and big tray of spicy, steaming mud bugs that came between me and my computer. You understand, right? Do you have crawfish in the UK? One of the benefits of living in the South.

So here I am catching up once again. What a surprise. Would anyone be shocked to know that I'm not good at deadlines? Oh, well. I'm determined to catch up on all my comments tonight. You are not really expecting that though, are you?

If you haven't been following the saga of Cheesy Mike's friends, Cooter and the gang, you need to do so. When you get through reading, go over to We Work For Cheese and read today's stories from the other participants of 30-2 Days of Writing. You won't be sorry.




Saturday, February 23, 2013

I Hear The Train A Comin', It's Rolling Round the Bend



Under extreme duress, I am participating in Nicky and Mike's 30-2 Days of Writing. Nicky and Mike hang out at We Work For Cheese. You need to visit them often...even when 30-2 Days of Writing is over.

If you haven't been reading my series of stories, this post may not make much sense to you. Maybe you want to catch up with my country fried tale? Of course you do. I'm not pressuring you or anything (but you better catch up). You can go back if you want (and you do) and read the first story HERE, the second story HERE, the third story HERE, the fourth story HERE, the fifth story HERE, stories six-ten HERE and the eleventh story HERE. There now. You are all caught up and exhausted (but you loved it, I know you did). Now that you are caught up, you need to join us every day because 30-2 Days of Writing ends at the end of February. You also need to go HERE and read all the other participants' entries for today.

Speaking of catching up, I'm doing just that. My post today covers three writing prompts. Life is so challenging.


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Buck couldn't wait to get out of town after he graduated from Ima Hogg High School which was named after the famous daughter of the late Texas governor, "Big Jim" Hogg. Buck was a four year letterman on the Ima Hogg Javelina state championship football team. He was naturally bright and never had to crack a book to study.  Although he was a star athlete and excelled in academics, Buck was never voted Most Likely To Succeed because he was a rebel. He didn't like to follow rules and that was considered a cardinal sin at IHHS.  Buck held the record at Ima Hogg High for the student who had received the most swats with a paddle. Hardly a day passed that Buck wasn't sitting in front of the principal's office awaiting  his daily dose of corporal punishment. Although he was the object of many school girl crushes, Buck was banned from dating most girls in school. Mothers were aware of his reputation as a rebel and whether they wanted to admit it or not, most of the mothers were keenly aware of Buck's sexual vibes.

His rebelliousness wasn't confined to the boundaries of the school campus. Even though high school students were not allowed in Cool Breeze's Domino Parlor,  Buck practically lived there after school. He had become Cool Breeze's honorary intern who entertained the old men with his stories while harvesting life lessons from the old timers. Buck also had quite the reputation with all the pretty married and widowed women in town. He would have preferred to give his attentions to their daughters, but the mothers had made the rules and  Buck had decided to take what he could get.  He kept his black and turquoise Chevy El Camino washed, waxed and ready to go. He was famous for pulling alongside ladies at the town's only traffic light with his windows rolled down and a cigarette dangling from his lips. If the woman didn't immediately give him her attention, Buck would pump the car accelerator pedal to make his glass pack mufflers sing his song of love.  The gossip at the Tuesday Morning Bridge Club often revolved around the topic of spying Buck's El Camino parked in front of this or that woman's house.

While Buck's classmates chatted incessantly about their plans after graduation, he remained silent. Some said he had no ambition and would probably just end up playing dominoes for the rest of his life. Others speculated that he would probably end up married to some rich widow lady. But Buck had plans. On graduation day, Buck finally told his classmates that he had been accepted to attend a technology school. After his announcement, his teammates slapped him on the back congratulating him while all of the girls took the opportunity to get an extra close full frontal hug. Buck knew that all of his classmates assumed that he would be moving to Big Spring to attend TWC, Texas Welding College and that was fine with him. As soon as the graduation ceremony was over and his classmates were headed over to the graduation party at the First Baptist Church,  Buck hopped into his El Camino, drove out of town  and never looked back.

After he graduated with honors from Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Buck packed up the El Camino and drove home. He hadn't been back since the day he graduated from high school. He thought a short visit at home might be a relaxing break before he had to start his new career with Houston's most prestigious engineering firm. However, his plans changed after he discovered that Cool Breeze had died and left him the domino parlor in his will.  Buck tried to walk away from the domino parlor, but he couldn't bring himself to destroy the dream of his mentor. So Buck permanently moved his belongings into the old unoccupied family homestead. He sold his El Camino for cash so he could renovate the domino parlor to include a bar and pool hall. Buck took his diploma from MIT and hid it in  the back of his underwear drawer and never mentioned his academic achievement to a single soul.


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Buck was polishing the bar and looking at Ethyl sitting across the bar from him. She was smiling sweetly and singing along with Garth Brooks as The Thunder Rolls  was playing on the jukebox.  


Every light is burnin'
In a house across town
She's pacin' by the telephone
In her faded flannel gown
Askin' for a miracle
Hopin' she's not right
Prayin' it's the weather
That's kept him out all night
And the thunder rolls
And the thunder rolls

Buck couldn't believe how his life had changed since the day she walked into The Rack 'n Roll Pool Hall. Life was beginning to make sense for him. There was no doubt about it, Buck and Ethyl were in love. Ethyl insisted that they keep their romance secret until Cooter won his bid for mayor. Buck was fond of saying that they were keeping their affair "under the covers."

The ceiling fans in the pool hall provided the only breeze in town. The air was hot, heavy and still. An approaching thunderstorm rumbled along with the tune on the jukebox. It was a perfect Texas afternoon except for the intense heat. Buck was hoping that the clouds which were moving in would bring much needed rain.

"Do you smell rain, Buck? Look at that dark cloud coming in. I hope it rains cats and dogs."

"What we need right now is a big old turd floater."

"You have such a way with words, Buck."

"Yep. We need it to rain like a cow pissin' on a flat rock."

Cooter and Bobby Lee were playing pool at the table in the corner. Bobby Lee hadn't been in the pool hall for a while. It seemed that he had just dropped off the face of the earth. Unbeknownst to him, Buck had started a pool to place bets on why Bobby Lee  had gone missing.

"Ethyl, give me your dollar and tell me your guess on where the hell Bobby Lee has been."

"I'm putting my money on Barbara Sue finally putting her foot down and making him get that vasectomy she has been threatening him with. What do you think, Buck?"

"Well, I started the pool, so I took the obvious choice. I'm betting that Barbara Sue caught him with another woman.  I just haven't figured out who the other woman is, but I  sure have noticed how nervous Bobby Lee is around Cooter."

The stained glass beer lamp hanging over the pool table flickered off and on twice as Buck made his statement.  Buck and Ethyl looked at each other and laughed.

"Do you think that's a sign, Buck?"

The lightening bolt struck the fire hydrant right across the street from the pool hall. When the lightning hit, a glowing blue mass in the shape of a ball zipped through the pool hall leaving behind an acrid smell of ozone. Cooter and Bobby Lee dropped their cue sticks and jumped back from the pool table.

"What in the world was that, Buck? I swear the hair on the back of my neck is standing straight up."

"I'm not sure. My asshole is puckered too tight to think."

The conversation in the pool hall stopped suddenly as the sound of big raindrops began hitting the tin roof. There was no time to rejoice in the rain because hail stones the size of golf balls began bouncing off the roof.  Then the wind hit.

"Do you hear that, Buck?  It sounds like we have a train coming through town."

"Ethyl, you know damn well that the last train that came through here was in 1953."

At that very moment, the train arrived.


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Barbara Sue was compulsively pacing the floor. Back and forth. Back and forth. She couldn't help it. It was a compulsion she had inherited from her mother who was deathly afraid of storms. As a child, Barbara Sue grew accustomed to her mother's hysterical behavior when a thunderstorm was approaching.  When she would see her mother looking out the window and begin pacing, Barbara Sue would go to her room, put on her  yellow raincoat and galoshes, pick up the little suitcase that her mother insisted she keep packed for emergencies and go sit in the chair by the back door waiting for her mother to grab her by the arm to run to the storm cellar.

If her father was home when they darted to the cellar, it was a little less hectic, but when her mother had to herd her and the neighbor kids into the cellar by herself, it was a nightmare. The metal cellar door was too heavy for her mother to handle alone as it was tethered by a metal cable to a large concrete block. By the time her mother reached the cellar, she was always in a state of pure panic and was usually sweating and shouting orders as though she was a captain trying to save a sinking ship. Once the group  had succeeded in opening the cellar door, her mother would command everyone to run run run into the shelter even though the storm had not yet reached the city limits. It was a routine that started every spring and lasted late into the summer months.

Barbara Sue hated going into the cellar. Her mother would hold the flashlight from the top of the flight of the concrete stairs to project a small beam of light into the pit of pure blackness. When Barbara Sue descended from the last step, she would stand in the dark while her mother came down the stairs and fumbled to light the kerosene lantern with the matches she kept in a Mason Jar. The cellar was a spooky place for Barbara Sue. The glow of the lantern illuminated the small concrete cell filled with cots, old lawn chairs, spiders and row upon row of Mason Jars filled with water or canned peaches. Barbara Sue could never make the connection between tornadoes and peaches, but her mother obviously believed that peaches were a cellar staple. More often than not, Barbara Sue and the other  prisoners in the cellar would sit in silence for an untold time and then exit from the cellar into sunlight and clear skies. At other times, the kids in the cellar would sit in horror and watch the adults anchor themselves to the rope which was attached to the cellar door and play tug-of-war with Mother Nature  to keep the swirling winds from blowing open the cellar door and sucking the occupants and canned peaches right out of the ground.

As an adult, Barbara Sue had vowed to not be like her mother. Unless the tornado siren was wailing, Barbara Sue would not go near a storm cellar. However, after her kids were born, Barbara Sue found herself pacing back and forth as a storm approached. On this particular night, Barbara Sue was pacing even more frantically, not only because of the thunderstorm, but because this was Bobby Lee's first night away from her since that awful scene at the Cut 'n Curl. Now he was at that damn pool hall. Or was he? She knew where he better not be. She wondered if Cooter knew what she knew. She was getting herself good and worked up. She was home alone with his kids in this damn storm and he was out having fun.  She was sick and tired of Bobby Lee making her sweat and pace and pray.


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Buck had grabbed Ethyl and pulled her over the bar, threw her on the worn, wooden floor and shielded her body with his when he realized that the sound they were hearing was actually a tornado. They had just hit the floor when all hell broke loose in The Rack 'n Roll Pool Hall.  Buck could barely hear Ethyl screaming over the loud roar which enveloped the building. Liquor bottles were flying off the shelves behind the bar and dropping like glass bombs all around them. Large objects were being tossed against the outer walls while some of the flying  missiles came crashing through the front windows. Everything inside the pool hall was in a state of motion. Then there was silence. A deafening silence interrupted only by the settling of the flying objects and Ethyl's continuous screams.

Buck lifted Ethyl from the floor and quickly checked her body to make sure she had not been wounded by flying debris. He calmed her and then they allowed their eyes to drift through the pool hall to assess the damage.

Buck and Ethyl could not tear their eyes away from the disastrous scene in front of them.   A pickup truck lay belly up on the sidewalk in front of the pool hall while a bewildered dog limped around the truck in circles. A metal street sign stuck straight out of the wall right beside the undisturbed girly wall calendar. The stained glass beer lamps which hung over the pool tables were still swinging from the wind that had passed through the building. Both front windows were blown out and clouds of red dirt were floating around the room. Strangely enough, none of the furniture in the pool hall had been disturbed except for a few overturned bar stools and cue sticks which were scattered around the room like Mother Nature had been playing a game of Pick Up Sticks. Standing right in the middle of the pool hall was a pink, vintage refrigerator that looked like it had been carefully placed there.

"Buck, have you ever wanted a pink Philco refrigerator 'cause you've got one now."

"Yeah, I see that. I'll have to call Doris Upham and tell her that her refrigerator is over here."

"How do you know that is Doris Upham's refrigerator? When have you ever been in Doris's house?"

"Back when I was in high school."

"Why did you go over there when you were in high school?"

"Uhhhhhh. I'd rather not say."

"Oh, never mind, Buck. I'll just ask Cooter."

It was at that moment they both remembered that Cooter and Bobby Lee had been playing pool when the tornado hit.  Together, they bolted toward the pool table in the corner where the men had last been seen. Sitting in the corner with his head covered by his arms and shaking like a leaf was Cooter. On the top of the pool table was one of the big gas pump neon crosses from the Washed In The Blood of the Lamb Church. There was no sign of Bobby Lee and Ethyl was getting panicked until Buck finally spotted him. They stood there in disbelief staring at the absurd tragedy. Bobby Lee was  underneath the neon cross with only the tips of his fingers and the toes of his boots peeking out from beneath the cross.

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Paybacks Are Hell



Ethyl had been imagining the scenario over and over in her head. How in the world was she going to break the news to Cooter? Was he going to chase her around The Rack 'n Roll Pool Hall with a cue stick when she told him that Brother Bob, pastor of the First Baptist Church, was insisting that Cooter be baptized before he could get the support of the FBC Women's Prayer Circle? Ethyl had been praying about finding the best way to tell him the news. She knew that the longer she waited, the harder the task would be. She finally decided to back her ears and get it done when she found Cooter sitting alone at a table in the pool hall.

"Cooter, can you spare a minute for an old lady?"

"Ethyl, you are a sight for sore eyes. Sit yourself down here and have a beer with me. What's on your mind?"

"I have something I have to tell you and I don't know how to say it."

"Just say it, Ethyl."

Ethyl couldn't make eye contact with Cooter. She focused on the girly calendar from Marvin's Liq-O-Nut Donut Shop and Package Liquor Store which was hanging on the wall behind his head. She blurted it out as fast as she could.

"Brother Bob said that you can't use the prayer circle meeting room and he won't give you his political endorsement and you can't use his mimeograph machine if you don't find the Lord and get baptized. I don't think this is right, Cooter, but it is Brother Bob's church and I have been going there all my life and what am I suppose to do?"

Ethyl closed her eyes when she got through talking. She sat there with closed eyes waiting to hear the sound of a breaking bottle or the crack of a pool cue across the table.

"Open your eyes, Ethyl."

She slowly opened her eyes and was pleasantly surprised to find no anger on Cooter's face.

"Ethyl, that church doesn't belong to Brother Bob. That church belongs to everybody in this town. Do you understand that?"

"I understand that it ought to be like that, but I'm pretty sure that is his church. Why aren't you mad? I thought you would be really pissed off about Brother Bob wanting to baptize you."

"What makes you and Brother Bob so dang sure that I haven't already been baptized?"

"It's just so obvious, Cooter."

"Well, you are wrong, Ethyl. I was raised in the church and I have been baptized."

"You have?  Oh, thank you, Sweet Jesus! That solves our whole problem. I'll go over to the church and tell Brother Bob right now."

"No, Ethyl. No you won't. Let me give Brother Bob the pleasure of saving a soul. I'm not sure he has ever saved anyone. It won't hurt me to make him feel a little better about himself. It's just a little dunk in the river."

"I'm not sure it is legal to get baptized twice."

"I don't think the Baptist police are gonna arrest us, Ethyl. Now, I want you to tell me why you are so surprised that I'm a man of God and have been baptized?"

"I don't know, Cooter. Maybe it's just the people you hang out with."

"Oh, now I get it. You judge me by the company I keep. Well, Ethyl, right now I'm hanging out with you."

Cooter's words hit Ethyl like a ton of bricks. She couldn't reply. She couldn't  move. Because of the tears filling her eyes, she could no longer focus on Miss September's neon green polka-dot bikini. Cooter reached across the table and put his hand on top of he hand as she cried in her beer.

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The Brazos River flows 840 miles across the state of Texas. The Brazos is famous for it's muddy red water and numerous pockets of quicksand.  While most pools of quicksand are only knee-deep, historical records tell the stories of Brazos quicksand devouring horses, carriages and wagons never to be seen again. While the Brazos was not the top choice for baptisms, it was the only choice for Brother Bob. He was convinced that the original name of this river, Brazos de Dios, meaning Arms of God, was the perfect place to baptize Cooter. 

Member of the First Baptist Church Women's Prayer Circle had gathered on the banks with bibles in hand ready to witness the saving of another soul. They all greeted Cooter warmly as he arrived. Dressed in their cotton house dresses and summer sandals, they showered him with hugs, pats on the back, kisses on the cheek and words of encouragement. 

Cooter was no stranger to quicksand. Being a rough neck in oil fields, he often found himself wading through rivers and livestock tanks. Cooter showed up on the banks of the Brazos dressed in rubber hip waders in sharp contrast to Brother Bob who was wearing a white baptismal robe and brand new white tennis shoes from the local five and dime store.

Brother Bob started the service with a long-winded prayer about salvation and redemption. Then he took Cooter by the hand and led him into waist high water. When the water had settled around them, Brother Bob faced Cooter.

"Do you believe that Jesus Christ will forgive your sins?"

"Yes, I do."

"Do you forsake Satan and all of his ways?"

"Yes, I will."

"Do you intend to follow Jesus's teachings?"

"Yes, I certainly do."

"On the profession of your faith in Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior and in obedience to his command, I now baptize you, Brother Cooter, in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen."

When Brother Bob said amen, he instructed Cooter to grab his arm as he grabbed Cooter behind his back. He totally immersed Cooter under the muddy waters of the Brazos.  Cooter came up out of the water sputtering and gasping for air. When Brother Bob reached out and gave Cooter a big hug, Cooter whispered in the pastor's ear.

"That wasn't a very good baptism. I have been baptized by much better preachers."

Brother Bob jumped back in surprise. When he jumped, his shoes didn't come with him. The suction of the muddy quicksand held the shoes in place. The irate preacher was flailing around in the muddy water while sinking slowly in the mucky bottom of the river. Cooter couldn't help but smile as he lumbered over in his rubber hip waders and managed to kick one of the the preacher's shoes free. The shoe floated to the top of the water and Cooter grabbed it and handed it to the pastor. Everything could have ended nicely then if the reverend had just said a simple thank you. But there aren't always happy endings in the Brazos River.

"How dare you talk to me like that, Cooter! You have not repented of your sins. You better change your ways or you will end up burning in hell. Now, get over there and get the other shoe!"

Unaware of the conversation between the two men, the women on the banks of the river were already walking back to their cars. They were singing and rejoicing that Cooter had been saved. 

O, sisters, let's go down
Let's go down, come on down
O, sisters, let's go down
Down in the river to pray.

Cooter slowly labored his way back to the river bank where Ethyl was waiting for him. He had a glow about his face which amazed her. Ethyl wasn't sure if Cooter had found Jesus again or if he was just flushed from the labor of walking through the quicksand.

"Cooter, you can't leave Brother Bob out in the river. Look at him. He is up to his waist in that quicksand and can't get out by himself."

"Come on, Ethyl. Let's go have a cold beer. Brother Bob will be fine. He needed to save someone today. Let him save himself."

O, sisters, let's go down
Let's go down, come on down
O, sisters, let's go down
Down in the river to pray.






Tuesday, February 19, 2013

5, 5, 5 Days in One


Ethyl Johnson was a member in good standing of the First Baptist Church Women's Prayer Circle. In fact, she was an undercover agent for the group. The idea to infiltrate The Rack 'n Roll Pool Hall came to Ethyl in a vision on a night that ominous clouds were dropping twisting funnels and people all over town were running to the safety of storm cellars. When the tornado siren began blaring it's long woeful wail, Ethyl sat straight up in bed, opened her eyes and shouted, "I'm gonna save 'em all."  The next day, while others in the town were clearing their yards of broken tree limbs, twisted pieces of corrugated metal and the occasional bovine body part, the women of the First Baptist Church Prayer Circle were in an emergency meeting called by Ethyl Johnson.

"I want to volunteer for a covert operation for our prayer circle. I want to infiltrate that ungodly pool hall where all those heathens and lost souls hang out to smoke, drink, dance and talk that filthy talk. I am going to go in as one of them. I'm gonna save their souls. I'm gonna go all commando on those sinners. They will never know what hit them."

Thus Operation Repent Or Else was Born.

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Ethyl was surprised to find out how quickly the folks at The Rack 'n Roll Pool Hall accepted her. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought they were just nice people, but she knew that the devil had the power to show himself in different forms. She wasn't going to be fooled  by their friendliness. After all, she was on a mission and she was willing to lower her lofty standards for the cause.

The first day that Ethyl walked into the pool hall was almost the last day on Earth for the owner, Buck. Buck had gone to school with Ethyl and he was well acquainted with Ethyl's holier-than-thou attitude. She was the very last person he ever expected to walk into his place of business. He almost dropped dead when he saw her.

"Hey, Ethyl. You lost?"

"Hey, Buck. Long time no see. I was just passing by."

"Ethyl, you have been passing by this pool hall four or five times a day for the last thirty years and you have never bothered to walk in."

"Well, it took me awhile, Buck, but I'm here now."

Ethyl had forgotten how cute Buck was. He was always a looker in high school, but she had never given him the time of day. She knew Buck smoked cigarettes and she simply did not approve. Nor would her mother. So Buck was never on her list of possible suitors.  

"You're lookin' damn fine, Ethyl."

Ethyl had the urge to rip that cigarette right out of his mouth and make him apologize for cursing in front of her, but she resisted because she was on a mission. And because his blue eyes were mesmerizing her.

"Well, you don't look too bad yourself, Buck."

"Pull up a stool, Ethyl. Let me buy you a cold beer."

Ethyl almost bolted out the door at the mention of beer, but she was determined to do the Lord's work.

"Well, okay, I guess. But make it one of those light beers. A girl has got to watch her figure, you know." 

"I'm watching your figure right now, woman."

 "And bring me a glass. I am not putting my mouth on the neck of a bottle. No telling where that bottle has been."

"If I remember correctly, you never liked to put anything  in your mouth."

"You've got that right, Buck. That's just plain nasty."

In her righteous attempt to infiltrate this den of iniquity, Ethyl dutifully drank her beer. She was surprised to find it refreshing. She certainly was not a beer drinker nor did she partake of any alcoholic beverages. The last time she had tasted a beer was in high school and she had spit the beer out on the ground. 

"That beer just hit the spot, Buck. You got another one back there with my name on it?"

"Darlin', I've got a couple of  things back here with your name on them."

Ethyl was feeling mighty good.  She couldn't remember feeling this good in a long time. She decided that working undercover for religious purposes must be her calling.  After a couple  more beers, she found herself singing along with music coming from the jukebox.

"Ethyl, if I didn't know you were a Baptist, I would ask you to dance."

"Buck, get your cute ass over here and turn up the music.

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By the time Ethyl was named campaign manager for Cooter's campaign for mayor, Ethyl was well entrenched with the gang at The Rack 'n Roll Pool Hall.  They had accepted her as one of them. In fact, Ethyl had noticed that they had accepted her a lot quicker than some of her prayer circle members had accepted some newcomers to the prayer group. 

When the fiasco with the campaign signs happened, Ethyl's mind went into overdrive. Surely she could turn the sign debacle into something positive. She spotted the last sign  to tear down.  It was hung front of the Tan A Bit and Throw A Fit tanning salon and child care center.


WANT BIG HOOTERS?
VOTE FOR COOTER!

As Ethyl ripped down the sign , the idea hit her. It was time to move Cooter's campaign headquarters to the prayer circle's meeting room at the First Baptist Church. Ethyl loved it when a good plan came together.

The preacher was invited to attend the strategic conversion planning meeting with the prayer circle.  Ethyl was feeling a little emotional during the meeting. She knew that converting Cooter was part of a divine plan, but she really liked Cooter and she was feeling a little guilty about being so sneaky. She was explaining to the prayer circle about how Cooter might actually make a good mayor if only he was a saved soul when Brother Bob interrupted her.

"If Cooter is going to get the support of this church, he will have to be baptized."

The ladies of the prayer circle liked this idea and broke into applause. As they were nodding their heads in approval, Ethyl was trying to fight down the fear which was having a smackdown in the pit of her stomach. 

"Brother Bob, I think we may be pushing it a bit. We need to show Cooter the light by accepting him first and then showing him how to have a better life."

"Absolutely not. If he wants to use this office for his campaign headquarters, he must be one of us."

"But Brother Bob..."

"Whatever. Dude wants our support, we need to gather at the river. Shall we?"


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 The meeting with the prayer circle and Brother Bob had been very upsetting for Ethyl. She was torn between her allegiance to her life-long friends in the prayer circle and her  feelings for her new friends down at The Rack 'n Roll Pool Hall.  In fact, Ethyl was so upset that she decided to stop by the pool hall for a beer on her way home from the meeting.

"I need a cold one, Buck, and make it fast."

"I'm running a special on Lone Star Light tonight."

"Then make it two."

"Whatever you say, darlin'."

"And how about a shot of that bird whiskey everybody drinks around here?"

"Bird whiskey? Are you talking about Wild Turkey?"

"Yeah. Wild Turkey. Two shots. Two shots and two beers and make it fast."

"Can I join you, darlin'?"

"Yeah, you can and make it fast."

When the night of being with old friends and new friends was finally over, Ethyl was happy to be home at last. She needed to think about the things that had happened at the meeting and at the pool hall. She needed to think about her life and where it was headed. She needed to think about her friends old and new....especially the new.

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As was her nightly ritual, the last thing Ethyl did each night was to get down on her knees and pray. Praying wasn't as easy as it used to be. She didn't have trouble finding the words, but she did have trouble being on her knees. She hoped the Good Lord didn't mind the pillows she placed on the floor to pad the shock to her worn knees.

Following her eventful night at the prayer circle meeting and the pool hall, Ethyl knelt by her bed, closed her eyes and laid her head on the mattress as she knew it was going to be a long prayer. 

Ethyl listened to her heart and that little voice in her head and chose her words carefully.

She thanked the Lord for her family members who were still alive. She gave thanks for her health, for the roof over her head and for the food that was on her table each day. 

Then Ethyl had a long conversation with God about finding the goodness in men. She told God her concerns with some of the thoughts she was having about her old friends. She apologized to God about the feelings she was having for some of her new friends. 

Ethyl ended her prayers by praising the Lord for giving her pleasure with all the little things in her life.

His voice rose from the darkness of Ethyl's bedroom. "Are you saying I have a little thing, Ethyl Johnson?"

Ethyl reached across the bed and swatted him on the behind. "Hush, Buck! You know I am serious about my prayers."

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You thought I was gone, didn't you, Nicky and Mike? Ha! I fooled you. Not only am I back, I did all my make-up work and I dare you to take off 20 points for late work! 

For those of you who don't know what is going on, welcome to 30-2 Days of Writing sponsored by Nicky and Mike of We Work for Cheese. Join the rest of the participants who don't know what is going on either. Go read their stories HERE.