The summer Of Luck
They sat staring at their children through the cracked door reflecting on their lives until this night, contemplating the future and which direction to take. He had been a Lumber Jack and she a Bikini Model. They had met in the Summer of Luck and she fell for him when she first saw him. He strode towards the massive tree among all of the protests and shouts, Husqavarna in hand with a look of determination she had seen on no other man's face. She leaned further out to get a better look at him, then slipped, falling from the branches of the massive tree and into the arms of the Lumber Jack. "You saved me", she said in astonishment. But she had saved him, giving his life a meaning other than satisfying his addiction to cross word puzzles and sudoku. Her heart had been broken so many times it seemed to only be held together by glue. It had been one cause after another, baby Seals, educations funds for the poor, hungry children, all leaving her heart broken and bleeding. In his arms that day, in the Summer of Luck, she felt it beating anew. He smelled clean and she flushed in shame not having bathed in over a week in the protesters perch in the massive tree. She anxiously showed him all of her portfolios, he showed her all of his chainsaws. She asked him to marry her in the pouring rain as he carved their initials into the massive tree under which they had met. "Hell, why not?", he told her. Together they ran away to the South where the sun shined for her bathing suit and he could cut pulp wood. Along the way they found their children, selling lemonade after their parents had abandoned them. They bought their lemonade and took them to the back woods of the south. They had cut most of the pulp wood and the sun had not shined in weeks. They thought that it was a good time to get away, so they got the children out of bed and left for the North Woods to show them their initials in the massive tree in the Summer Of Luck...
Just a little writing excercize.
The appalachianist
Just a little writing excercize.
The appalachianist
posted by Hill Billy Rave | Friday, August 21, 2009
9 Comments:
Interesting piece, I don't remember you writing fiction before.They say opposites attact (but I've also heard that don't often stay together).
Why no self-respecting lumber man would show anybody all his chain saws . . . . I'm so ignorant I had to look up Husqavarna. I though it was an agave based spirit, a tequila, that I had not heard of before now . . . . I think I was thinking Jose Cuerovo, but I am not sure . . . but by the time I got to the end of the story I think I was willing to drink a tequila toast and eat the worm to honor this intrepid couple. Have we really cut all, er, cut most of the pulp wood? I had great fun with the story . . . it is one each reader could add their own small paragraph as, "When they finally got to the North Woods, the young couple found that a huge bear had made its home in the lower branches of the tree. They stopped and then looked around for their favorite hound . . . ." Bill
Kudos for making this sound like an Oprah Book club book and for using the word 'Husqavarna'. A lot of people probably would have gone with the easier 'Black & Decker' choice but oh, not you. ;-)
I made a comment yesterday and the thing is not here, dang you Blogger. But, then maybe I goofed. By the look of my capitals in this post, I did.
Murf, Black and Decker doesn't have the ring to it. And do you think that B'n'D was going to cut down that tree?
Sage, I prefer fiction honestly. I've posted an abstract of some before. Some years ago, the late 05 early 06 time frame. You'd have to dig back through the blog to find it.
Bill, Husqavarna is the chain saw of choice of most Loggers I know. Followed by Stihl. Hmm...What if Husqavarna was a drink? Both are brain childs of two brothers.
They didn't see their favorite hound . . . one that could confront the bear with an indomitable courage that was equal to whatever the bear could offer. In the distance they thought they heard the baying of their old faithful Plott Hound . . . the one from the North Carolina mountains . . . the Bule Ridge . . . on he came baying and howling . . . .
The howling grew louder and louder perhaps explaining why the bear refused to come down from the tree . . . and perhaps he would come down out of the tree and eat the couple and the dog and go and find the children and eat them for good measure . . . . "Ummmmmmmmmmm," thought the bear, "Now that is a thought!" Didn't mean to hijack your story. Bill
There is an article on bears in today's Asheville Citizen-Times. I believe the Asheville paper is called this. It seems Peta (?) is upset about the way bears are exhibited in Cherokee. Anway, someone is quoted elsewhere as saying bears are everywhere . . . in the mountains. Bill
Bill, there is a fair amount of Bear here. The sanctuary program (along with other factors) is working in their favor. It's a great thing to see.
A few weeks back BOB Barker, the Price is Right guy, a big PETA person, went to Cherokee and was politely told that they are going to keep caged Bears no matter what he thinks. He had sent a letter, previously, to the Chief asking he make the Bear keepers stop and he had only heard about the Bears word of mouth. He had never seen them.
More power to Cherokee.
The picture I saw showed a crowded bear pit, but the first thing that I noticed was the healthy appearance of the bears themeselves. I myself would cut the Cherokee some slack . . . if there was a "real" problem it should have been done or solved out of public view with a mind toward helping all. Sometimes it is hard to know who is being looked at . . . the bears or the Cherokee. I don't like to make people feel uncomfortable in their culture especially as I am very proud of my grandson's being part Choctaw. PETA can be a handful at times of equal parts arrogance, the impractical, and self-righteous even if they mean well. More power to the Cherokee. Bill
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