Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Drive - A Memoir 55th Installment

heat it until it cooks off,” I said, under thinking it. We put the butt end of the tie rod against the cottonwood tree and held the other end up with a makeshift tripod. We took a ten foot long pipe and rolled the end up with a rag that we had smeared through and through with tar. After using a bunch of gas to get the tar off our hands and a small amount on the torch, we were ready to fire. I lit the tar and it flamed nicely. Then we held it under the tie rod connector end and waited. We took turns holding the heavy torch, and finally, we were both holding it. Just moments after I said, “This is taking too long.” !!!KABOOM!!! The loudest and most forceful shock I have ever heard or felt. The copse of trees in the line of fire all shook violently and branches rained down. Some of the limbs were about two inches; others were smaller, but a hundred branches cascaded down – enough to kindle fires all winter. The butt end of the rod had kicked out a large piece of bark and had buried the end into the tree a small distance. Russell’s mouth was moving, but I didn’t hear a human voice – only an incessant roar in my ears. My vision was wet and blurred, and my skin tingled with a slight sunburn feel. After a short time, my senses recovered from this outrage, and I could hear again. “We should have pointed this thing at the outhouse! It would have blown the crapper to bits,” I exclaimed, probably too loudly.

No! We’ve done enough damage already. Don’t you ever stop to think how dangerous this was?” Russell was older; therefore, he was more responsible. Then the so called more responsible co–conspirator of mayhem – Russ, of course – asked, “Where’s Bootsey Monte Everett Rudd?”

See that mound of real nice clothes lying in that bunch of weeds?” I pointed. “That’s Bootsey Monte Everett Rudd, or the canon scared the pants off him and he ran away buck naked.” It was then we heard the low moaning or maybe crying. “But look on the bright side; he could be singing,” I joked. We helped him up, although he didn’t seem to want to be touched. He backed away, slowly, eyes darting back and forth between Russ and me. Then he turned and hot footed it for Ted and Amber’s place at a full out run. We watched him go; I guess waiting to see if he would ever look back. He didn’t.

There goes our only chance to hear stories about Boston,” I said. I’m sure he would have told us about the skyline of tall buildings jutting across the horizon, but, I thought, we have the majestic Rocky Mountains spreading across our horizon. Maybe he would have told us of the highways full of traffic jams

500 more words tomorro

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