Thursday, March 9, 2017

Drive - A Memoir 62nd Installment

driving this contraption. Work and play are the same!” My philosophy.

Chapter 15
We didn’t actually work on the Whiz Gizzy the next day. I had forgotten about the first jackrabbit drive of the season. It was to start at noon, behind Barney’s place. Russ and I had nothing but mayhem on our minds, and I hurriedly scooped up a handful of scrambled eggs and smeared them onto a piece of toast.

Stop eating like a slob,” Edith scolded. “Eating with your fingers I can live with but sticking your ‘cow–milking hands’ in everyone else’s food is over the top. For your information I’ve been ‘volunteered’ to arrive early at the jackrabbit drive with ten gallons of milk, and I’ll be in charge of the hot chocolate and doughnuts. You guys can ride with me if you have your work done by 10:30.”

Our eyes boggled and I announced, “It’s a date! Russ and I’ll be taking you up on that offer.”
At 10:27 we had the chores and the assigned work for the day done. Done well? Maybe.

At 10:28 we had wolfed down a sandwich in one minute. Chewed? Maybe.

At 10:29 we had our clubs; we piled in the back of the pickup. Ready to go? Absolutely.

At 10:45 we were tired of waiting and started banging our clubs of the pickup’s tail gate and chanting, “There is an old lady who’s late – asks for five minutes, but she takes twenty eight – she should be on time – making us late is a crime – what can we do – but WAIT!” We sang it again and again more loudly each time which is why we didn’t hear the front door of the house slam and when we saw Edith striding in our direction we fell silent, mid word. “Oh, oh, we’re going to pay for this,” I groaned.
Put the milk can, in the back,” she told us in a surprisingly level voice. “Hurry we’ve got to go right now and we have to pick up Ronnie.”

Ronnie?” Russ questioned.

Yes, why?” Edith said.

Ronnie is a worthless waste of skin,” I moaned. “He hasn’t killed a jackrabbit in his life, is why!”

Stop that! Is killing all you guys care about?” Now she was getting mad.

Okay, we harvest jackrabbits for a living, you know that, and this jackrabbit drive is just a diversion; helping the farmers save some of their crops is a community service.” I said. “I thought you knew what these drives are about; and Ronnie – he’s a sad case.”

I do.” Her level voice was back. “The farmers need all the help they can get to save their farms from this infestation of a living pestilence that’s consuming practically all green material wherever they find it. And you will ask Ronnie over!” Edith sped out the lane and stopped at

500 more words tomorrow

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