COCK of the WALK

     In the spring of 1956, our family moved from my grandparents farm to the outskirts of Headland.  We rented a house from Mr. Joe Parrish.  This particular Saturday, mom was cleaning and dad was off with uncle Tex fishing.  They left it up to Wayne, who was ten, to look after me and Benny.  I guess for a while he did pretty well, but since he was all macho man, we had to head off to the Cock of the Walk fertilizer building.  It was the largest building I had ever seen.  One hundred feet high and wide and three hundred feet long.  It was made out of asbestos sheets for the roof and sides.  It had a walkway at the top that ran the length of the building, with a row of windows on each side.  Most of the panes were broken.  Not by us, we could throw rocks pretty well, but they were too far off for our young arms.  The train tracks were on the other side, and the loading dock ran the length of the building, with piles of pallets and cardboard.
    The big doors were locked, but as small children, we could slip between them and the building and go inside.  There it was, on the inside, was our personal playground.  The white powder bat guano was piled to the ceiling.  Three different piles, each just a shade different.  Wayne had been there before and knew to bring a piece of cardboard from the loading dock. Motioning for us to follow, he headed up the stairs to the cat walk.  That was the best thing we had ever done.  Our hearts were pounding from the excitement of breaking in and the height of the stairs.  We could barely contain ourselves.  The bat doo-doo was about five feet below the catwalk, and sloped to the bottom in a cone shape.  Wayne jumped with the cardboard, hit with a smack and started sliding downhill fast as lightening.  Benny and I jumped, but we did not have a cardboard sled.  We buried up to our knees in the white powder crap, and had to struggle to get to the bottom.  Wayne, however was going so fast that he could not stop.  Just as he reached the bottom, he rolled off head first, only feet away from smashing into the wall.  When we reached him, all we could see were his legs sticking out of the bat crap, and kicking like crazy, up and down.  We grabbed a leg each and pulled him out.  We were laughing at him and embarrassed as he was he bounced each of us on the side of our heads.  Smaller and younger, though we were, we bounced back.
     When we tired of blood and bat shit, Wayne showed us some dynamite that they used to break up the guano when it clumped together.  Now at this moment, fifty four years later, I know what happened to the windows.  It also explains why we could slip inside the doors.  Wonder if the building is still standing.  Wayne was smart enough to take only the blasting caps and fuses.  I think he knew that the dynamite was too dangerous.  On the loading dock was a three foot length of 2" pipe, a cinder block and an unlimited supply of rocks from the train tracks.  And every kid worth his salt, had a cigarette  lighter.  Well with all these ingredients for a fun filled Saturday afternoon, what could possibly go wrong?
     Instead of aiming the primitive mortar across the tracks to the empty field, Wayne pointed it at the White's house, a quarter mile away.   Wayne lit the fuse to the blasting cap, dropped it into the pipe, Benny dropped in a big rock and I got the hell out of the way.  No need to worry, the rock came out the end of the pipe pretty as you please.  You could see it flow through the sky and land on the tin roof of the White's house with a loud bang.  They scattered out of there like red wasps coming off the nest when you hit it with a corncob.  They heard thunder and the sky fell on them.  They were hauling ass somewhere, but where?  They never figured out what happened.  Are you going to tell them?  I sure as heck ain't.

Wild Hog

      I know that this a status, not a diary, but it is also a good place to post my stories.  This one is my entry for the September competition in writeandreview.webs.com.  The category is dreams or nightmares.  I thought some of you might like it.

     Hon, will you turn off the light when you come to bed?  Phil did not really expect an answer from Mary.  He knew that she would.  Through all the pain and suffering she was his one constant rock.  That and Joe, his best friend from grade school.  Oh, the things that they had done.  No wonder they were always in so much trouble.  Joe had married Sheila and moved in down the lane.  For Phil that was the best thing that could have ever happened.
     As he was drifting off to sleep he was giving thanks for all his many blessings. When sleep overtook him, he began to walk down the path in the field, to the woods, where Joe lived.  Rain was dripping on his face and he could feel the chill.  Wonderful!  He had never felt so alive.  His senses were on fire, almost as if he knew what was about to happen just seconds before it actually did.  A quick jump to the side, he landed nimbly on his feet as the ferrule boar rushed by.  He had heard him coming and his body, acting as a fine magnificent clockwork, moved in perfect timing to avoid the sharp tusks.  As the boar, fuming from the miss, turned around and charged again.  Phil reached up and grabbed the limb over his head.  Pulling his legs up just inches from danger, he teased that old hog until he finally tired and ran off.  Hopping, skipping and laughing, down the lane, without tiring, he eventually made it to Joe's house.
     Tapping lightly on the door, he waited patiently for an answer.  Sheila slowly made her way to the door and opened it.  Hey girl, how's Joe doing this fine morning?  Doing better Phil, he's already dressed and waiting for you, she replied.  Good, let's go get him.  Joe, you ready? I asked.  Yeah, he replied, just help me into this damn wheelchair and we will be off.
     Phil could tell that he was putting up a brave front.  That was him as he had always been, strong and brave.  As we strolled down the lane, that old hog came after us again.  With just a wave of his semi-useful hand, he just whisked that old hog away.  Thanks Joe, I am really tired of that old swine.  The light awakened Phil with a start.  What is it Mary?, he asked.  You were squealing with joy and it awakened me.  Were you having that dream again?  Yeah, Mary I did, he replied.  And the best part was when I picked you up in my arms, lay you on the bed and we made wild passionate love.  Just wait until Joe comes to help me into my wheelchair in the morning.  I'll bet that he will tell us about his nightmare.