 
### Love, Knuckles, and Melody Genesis

C.B. Smith

This book is work of fiction. Any reference to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover design by Boo McNutt

Copyright © 2010 by C.B. Smith

Published by M.H. Dartos

at Smashwords

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*****

I'ma just gettin' to wakin' up rubbin' the sleepy goobers from my eyes and such and I knows I just gotta tell you thisere story so's I better git to it. Here's how thangs is, my name is Cord. Not by birth but by choice. The way I sees it this is my life so's I'll live it my way with a name of my choosin'. Of course there ain't nobody whut sees me eye to eye on this view. Well, I got me some choice answers for them types. I'm what you might call a "misunderstood severely abused type."

By now you may be wondering what a happening hillbilly feller like me does when he's not doing other thangs that some people say are important. Well, I'll make it easy on you. I'll tell you that what this happening feller does is hang with the only other happening feller he knows. A happening feller that most folks would agree and say, "Yeah, he's a happenin feller."

Hargis Mellow.

He's a big time football star at Chillamore Central High School. Gets all the girls, invitations, special thangs that stars get. I don't know why we ended up being friends. Hell, most folks like him look at me sideways and put two fingers in their mouth like they's hurlin'. Not him though, good ole' Haggis. Yeah, you guessed it right. Only I can CALL him Haggis. Anybody else whut tries it will get a fistful of knuckles.

So, like I was sayin', most days we go to his basement and shoot the beeswax 'bout all thangs. It helps that we growed up next door to each other. We've been best friends since we were knee high to a grasshopper two year old skedaddlers.

Today we're in our own special corner of the basement-a corner that keeps getting' bigger by and by-building our soon to take over the architectural world soda can city which we've named Tin Towers. I just popped out with that name and Haggis said, "Yeah baby! Cool name."

We've been collecting soda cans from our soda drinking and sometimes we collect cans from differnt places.

Like behind old Lomack's Deli on Garnett Street. They always have their dumpsters overflowing with cans so sometimes we dive in and grab us a whole bunch. The last time we did that we got so many cans-after three trips one after the other-that we were able to add in one day a monster sized football stadium with a matching ice cream parlor for big ice cream junkies. Now we're working on hugimundo skyscrapers.

I was thankin that maybe we should name one of the skyscrapers Tin Towers instead of the city. But the more I thought about it, the less important it sounded. I mean, why can't a city be called Tin Towers? Nothin wrong with that.

'N if'n you thanks they is...well...I s'pose y'know my answer to that by now.

But I'm thankin' we's past the point of being interested in some stupid tin can city when there's bigger fish to fry in this town. Let me tell you somethin' to catch ya up 'n stuff. This girl. Melody. Sweetest little twilley y'ever did see. Now I ain't one to go hog wild callin' 'n such but I s'pose ever feller's got his weakness and all. And I'm here to tell you she be mine. Weakness that is. Other'nat she don't even know I exist. Kinder. I reckon she knows me like everybody else at Chillamore Central. Stinky Rimky: The kid who's never parted from stink enough to get lonely. The kid who smelly and him go together like a nose and boogers.

Somethin' like that.

Yeah, as a kid, a little ankle biter nose pickin' ass wipe, I was known for a certain strong smell that seemed to linger no matter what. But that was a long long time ago. I's much differnt now. Heck, I even change my underbritches once a week now. Useta could not change it for dang near one month. So opinions is laggin' the turn of thangs. And that's a cryin' shame really. To thank that all this prejudicial dumb ass thankin's standin' between me and that girl whut may be my one and only. One day. Maybe one day far aways. But I cain't get m'self all down and slumpy over that kinder thankin'. Ain't doin' no one no good nohow.

No kawhillickers.

So's I just go on like'n I don't thank about her anyways 'cause there's no other way to be. For me that is. Good ol,' greasy ol',smelly ol' Cord Rimshank. D'you believe them sombitches calls me Rimjob? Believe you me when I catch 'em tellin' that trash tawk I get a quick high tail it word round to ol' Haggis. He shows 'em what's what.

But it ain't like he's my bodyguard or nothin'. He just don't like people tawkin' bull puckey 'bout me no more'n I like it! Still it don't help me none with light of my heart, Melody. Most days I feel lower than a whale's belly and let me tell you that's mighty low.

*****

"With that huge balloon head that idiot gets tired enough having to hold on tight to it so it don't float away. Then he spends ever minute chasing his pea size brain around that hideously large Hindenburg and not only does he never catch his creepy runaway brain he gets totally tuckered out."

"That there's a good name for him. Tucker."

"Him and Rimjob make quite a pair."

"Pair of what?"

"You know this crummy city of Wa'tay is too small for both of them at once. Seems to me one of them has to leave. And look at that Shanise girl. Melody's groupie friend who's always with her. Another beauty! A city full of sucky shit wads."

This little chitty chat is too much for me to pass up. 'N I was jus goin' to history class when of a hey what I run across these never do goods so's I jus gotta ask em.

"And who's the one to make one of 'em leave? You willow bush?

The three bubbas turn their scraggly heads to me. All at once. Like monkeys.

"Um. I think he's talking to you Willoughby."

"C'mon Cord man. Wasn't saying somebody should make one of them leave. Was just saying one of them has to leave. I was just saying."

When they takes to callin' me Cord man, tryin' to cozy up to me, I knows I caught'em tongue trippin' in trash town. But they get all like, "Warn't doin' nothin' Cord man. Nothin' at all." It's jus way too much fun to pass up the chance to squeeze 'em like big ol' gooey zits.

"Yeah well you best keep it that way," I says.

"You threatening me Rimky?" says Willoughby.

"No. I'm jus sayin,'" I says, walkin' away, maybe skippin' a bit, leavin' 'em to wonder all on they ownsome. Good for the goose good for the gander.

Them fellers is on a hot tin barrel if'n they get to wonderin' why a feller like Hargis would even care to be near a feller like me, a feller who'd jus as soon kick ya as look at ya. I don't know neither. Twas a mystery to me even cuz we growed up next door to each other. Kinder died in the shed friends.

That's cow chip 'n all. But these're fellers who'll never know the blissin' joy in takin' in huge gulps of air filled with the smell of somethin' so rich, so foul, so oh-my-god-what-is-that-smell, that it makes yer heart dance a double two step in celebration. Ol' Haggis though, he knows this joy.

I s'pose he's a might tilted to one side that way.

Sometimes we'd borrow his Pa's car and drive out of the city, straight out till the suburbs became country, out till the road we was on give out, until we reached some place we'd never been and would never recognize in the daytime, listening to rock music on ROCK with the windows down if'n it was warm, smellin' the toxic plant smell of chunk marshy bottoms where the organic life is so thick it reminds ya of skunk.

We had to be in motion, on the move; it was a need like the need to breathe. I felt I was suffocatin' and waitin' to get out of Tennessee, out of the whole Southeast. To go West. Somehow. Someway. Someday. To begin a new life, like a do over. That was what we tawked about a whole bunch. Me in my fug you, excitable way and Hargis in his calm and smooth way.

A new life.

And sometimes. Only sometimes. We met girls out there. Ones whut wanted always to get inside the world of Haggis and run screaming from the world of Cord. A mucked up world of beauties and boneheads though I never did reckon who was who.

"You're kinda malcontent, Cord. You know? Nothing's never good enough for you. Girls don't like that. Catch more flies with sugar."

Don't care about no fuggin' flies. But he's forgettin' the pull. Sometimes yer hot and sometimes yer not. Trouble is the game is always fixed for his side. Him bein' always hot and me bein' always NOT. And I ain't sayin' I maybe cain't use no fixin'

I'm jus sayin.'

When you got the kinder girl attractin' juju that rolls with Hargis, luck don't come into it.

Never.

For me it was always more the odd and creepy. When you meet me the first thang you'll notice, the one thang that jumps out at you like a cornered swamp rat is them larger than small freckles above 'n below m' eyes which I do doubly swear come to me by my cousin, Sharma.

I 'member it like a sour mash dream from my innocent grade school days...

Mama's always tellin' me I should visit my Auntie Cage and m'cousin Sharma. 'Ceptin' when I shows up to see 'em in their li'l swamp house cousin Sharma starts to kissin' on me like a love stung bush snake! I'm never goin here again.

And I knows all that dang kissin' done me in with these here freckles.

Some females are ready to mate for thangs more abstract than food and trailer homes.

I s'pose I might could say Sharma's a li'l bit this way, a li'l bit that way, a li'l bit WHY?!!

*****

I didn't begin to live until I died. I mean when you sees your name in the death files, what is called them Obicharies, it's a good time to get to livin' less you's fixin' to get to dyin'. Maybe I shoulda had me that second bowl of Snap Krackle Pop!

I must be sleepwalkin' or somethin'.

What happened was what's called a "near miss" with a rampaging 12 wheeler on a freeway. My blood raced. My pulse quick stepped. My head beaded. The wind tore off the side of my truck. Luckily, it survived.

My lucky truck.

Warn't me though. 'N I don't even have no TRUCK!

Thissere was jus my real world o' crazy don't make no sense chum bucket.

So's I falled asleep at the table, woke up with thissere paper stuck to my face and when I peeled it off and looked at it I see's my name all perty like right there. In the obicharies. 'N I near shit m'self. But I'm wakin' up. All hopped up on sugar. Falling asleep and wakin' up again. Weird stuff, huh? Then I see's my name in there. Sees it and sees it and I'm knowin' I must be seein' thangs wrong like. So I look at it again real close and see my face'd smooshed on that there paper and smeared the words and warn't my name at all. Was Curtis Ramekin. Don't even know the poor dumb ass.

Guess this's what you'd call a bad beginning to a bad going day.

"What's up with that face man? You're looking like...hell, I don't even know what."

Haggis had a way of just opening up the door and walking right in. That's how friends do each other. I jus wished he'd knock ever now and again.

"Yeah. Just saw my name in them obicharies and thought I was dead and shit. Got my motor runnin' I tell ya."

I show him the paper and he starts ha-ha-ha-in'.

"Does kinda look like it. Man, does that suck or what?"

"First I gotta get this paper and ink off my face. Then...hey, whatchou wanna do?"

"I dunno. What do you want to do?"

"I don't know. How about you?"

"Me neither. I got nothing."

"Yeah. I'm dead so's I got no idears."

Well, I was kinder dead a few minutes ago, now I'm not dead no more. Idears come slow for us almost dead fellers.

"Get that shit off your face dead boy and let's roll."

With my pa working late shifts at the mill, it's almost like living alone. He's gone when I wake up or just dragging himself in and when I get back from school he's either sleeping or drinking with friends. It's a full life for him. I got kinder the same schedule only...differnt.

Ridin' out to someheres else always rings my chimes. Sets me to mental trippin', A new place. A new life. A new world. Sometimes I get to thankin' that mebbe ain't nothin' else for me here. These here parts I been hangin' around in since the beginnin' of my life's days. It's not so bad a place. This city. This town. It's jus the same old place. Old as the creeping crud of death spores stickin' to them old maples. The smokies is all good and all, but it ain't no clearer than fog no more.

Not to me nohow.

Jus big ol' mountains standin' up there all big and brown and greenish, lookin' around themselves goin' like, "Hey. We're big ol' mountains. And we gone be here no matter how long you stick around, son."

Yeah. That's cool and all. For the mountains. But for me, down here at ground level, thangs is jus too much the same ol' same ol' for me to see anything new for me comin' down thissere long and gettin' longer empty road. A road so full of dust I need me a team of John Deere tractors to haul it away. And I do so love them tractors. Now there's somethin' brings the thrill of excitement to me every time. Ever which way it does I can follow it all the way there.

And that's another thang gnawin' at me. The power in the thangs we like. Or the thangs we would like to have. To own. OR the people. Now this one slays me ever time. See, I done tole you how I 'm-a hankerin' for this Melody honey. And this sets me to wonderin' how much of my personal power I might have sacrificed already by wantin' and wantin' and wantin' and not gettin' with each passing day of gloom, gettin' me only close enough to feel further away. Like I'm rowin' like hell to get to a shore that pulls away each time I reach it. Like the devil has poured honey into her and I cain't stop m'self from going after her, only to be slapped down and kicked away. Now this ain't actually happened ''cause I ain't done nothin' but I thank on these thangs. And thankin' is eatin' at me like a plague. I s'pose it's time for action or somethin'.

Ol' Haggis says, "Name it and claim it, Big C. Name it and claim it."

Sounds easy, don't it? Yep. Easy for a feller like him. When the birds see him comin' to fetch 'em they drop from the sky right into his arms, savin' him the trouble. For me on the other hand them birds drop from the sky right in front of me dead on sight. Close enough to smash my face into how much I want 'em but not close enough to get 'em.

It feels like I'm lost in a fog. A big deep one. I've become a stranger to my dreams, recognizing nothing I see in them. Not even my own body. But I know it's me standing there.

Lost.

Having no idear which path to take. Only bein' mysteriously drawn to the haunted forest. A lovesick need to trample the unruly undergrowth. I follow my mind's wishes, unable to resist the temptation. And head down them dark and spookies.

They continue for miles, seeming endless, twisting and turning. Then a realization jumps at me like a gator. I'm not traveling forward at all. This dream is taking me in reverse. Back to the Chattanooga depths of my past.

Must be somethin' I'm doin'. According to Haggis he says it's what I AIN'T doin's where the trouble is. And he may have a point. I done tole him he could go to that there pointless forest to get that point buffed flat out. He laughs and shakes his head at me like he does, "You're a card, Cord. Mebbe should be your name: Card."

Now I know they say love and suffering go hand in hand like disjointed birds of prey, I cain't say as I know for sure 'cause it's THEY whut seem to keep all the answers locked up tight. Choking them unruly answers by giving only little bits of air. They's stingy these folks called THEY. So maybe they's right. Love and pain go together. Yet at this point it's only the suffering part of love I'm gettin'.

Don't seem worth it.

Mebbe I'll jus take to drivin' a tractor. Go out and haul that ol' love beast thissa way, drag it back by the feet after I done chained 'em up real good. Now that sounds like a screamer! I'll show that critter how we whip up some good ol' Tennessee fun out here in the shadow of the smokies.

Useta could wrangle up some of that kind of fun any old time we was bored. Which was just about always. We called it "shootin' the loop." We'd race our hopped up tractors straight down Hatcher road to the end then spin back around like whip tails racing back to the finish. Good times. I don't remember why we stopped havin' fun like that. Mebbe somethin' to do with the law dogs frownin' on it. Them dogs do a might too much frownin' if'n you ask me. Kills all the fun for a young boy on his way up.

Coulda been that time a little girl got herself scared away by all the noise and disappeared into the swamplands. A distance running girl. Little girl spent more than four days alone in a alligator-infested swamp. Musta hitched up her britches and sped away.

Her folks did get her back though. A little scraped, scared, and hungry. She was out there fearin' gators guns guards and gates. When asked how he felt, her Pa said: "I can't even describe it. Let's give the glory to God."

God bless Omerica.

*****

When times come whut seems ain't nothing much to do, leave it to Hargis to have a plan. He's tawkin' about gittin' up early to go canoeing with his cousin Vole.

"He's older, okay. Knows these rivers like no one else. He comes with us we can go places we couldn't go on our own. We pack rifles, gear, and chow and take off at sunrise. You in?"

"Sunrise? Ain't that like rooster time?"

"Yep. I love to sleep on the weekends too but this thing Vole is talking about sounds worth waking up for!"

"I reckon."

"Oh, and Vole says we should camp by the river tonight so we can get our early start right from there. I mean, we can set up a lean to for cover. Got me some extra sleeping bags so you're cool on that."

"Ahmoan bring me some paper and pencils and such to make drawin's of what we're seein' out there. Don't got me no camera so paper 'n pencil's gonna hafta do."

"Bring what you wish, man. You pack it in, you pack it out. Number one rule of wilderness adventures."

Sleep came hard and fast as I drifted off to places unknown. It seemed to me I had not been asleep more than five minutes, when I was woke by Hargis laying his heavy hand on my shoulder. On rubbing my eyes and gazing round me, I found that the first streak of dawn was visible in the eastern sky, that the canoe was already in the water, and that my companions was ready to light out.

It seems that fellers are not disposed to tawk at that early hour. I said that it was a fine morning, to which Hargis replied by a nod of his head. Nothing more was said. Hargis and Vole, taking their places in the bow and stern, dipped the paddles into the water and shot away from the shore. They looked mysterious and ghostly in the dim morning light; and the whole scene around them looked mysterious and ghostly too, for the water in the lake seemed black, and the shores and islands looked like dark shadows, and a pale thin mist rolled slowly over the surface of the water and hung overhead. No sound was heard except the light plash of the paddles as the two backwoodsmen urged the little canoe swiftly along.

By and by the light of day increased, and Hargis called to me so that I might behold the beautiful scenery we's passin through. We were now approaching the upper end of the lake, in there were a mess of islands of every shape and size-some of them not more than a few yards in length, while some were two or three hundred yards across, but all were clothed with the most beautiful green plant life and shrubbery. As the pale yellow of the eastern sky began to grow red, ducks and gulls stirred themselves. Early risers among them first began to chirp, and scream, and whistle their morning song. Some din't join in for there are lazy ones among the birds just like among men. Sometimes, when the canoe rounded a point of rocks, we found a flock of geese floating peacefully among the sedges, sound asleep, with their heads under their wings. These would leap into the air and fly off in great alarm, with much difficulty and tremendous splutter, reminding me of the proverb, "The more haste the less speed." At other times we would come upon a flock of ducks so suddenly, that they had no time to take wing, so they dived instead, and got out of the way.

Then the yellow hue of sunrise came, a good while before the sun hisself rose. The last of the bright stars were put out by the flood of light, and a whole mess of little birds on shore began to chirp their morning song; like a hymn of praise to God, where in the 150PthP Psalm of the Bible is written, "Let everything that hath breath praise the Lord."

At last the sun burst forth in all his golden glory. Water, earth, and sky glowed as if they had been set on fire. What a blessed influence the sun has upon this world! It resembles the face of a loving father beaming in upon his family, driving away clouds, and spreading warmth and joy. This I would not know but can only imagine as my pa is nothing to do with warmth and loving.

The birds were now all astir together, so much that the air seemed alive with them. There are small white gulls, with red legs and red beaks, in those large inland lakes, just as there are on the ocean. These began to utter their sweet wild cries so powerfully that they almost drowned the noise of all the rest. Yet the united chorus of the whole was not harsh. It was softened and mellowed by distance, and fell on our hunter's ears as pleasantly as the finest music does in the ears of men trained to sweet sounds from infancy.

Not until the sun had climbed a considerable way on its course through the sky, did Hargis thank it necessary to lay down his paddle. By that time the upper end of the lake had been reached, and he had run the canoe close to a ledge of flat rock and jumped ashore, saying that it was time for breakfast.

"I had almost got to believe I was in paradise," said Hargis, as he stepped ashore.

"I sometimes thank there's a good bit of the garden of Eden still left in this world," I said, as I carried the kettle up to the level part of the rock and began to kindle a fire, while Vole, as usual, hewed the wood, saying, "If we could only make use of God's gifts instead of abusin' them, I do believe we might be very happy all our days."

"See there, Hargis, is one of the birds I want so much to get hold of. I want to make a drawing of him for Melody. Would you mind spending a shot on him?"

I pointed as I spoke to a blue bird which sat on a branch close above my head. This is one of the most brazen little birds in the world! Wherever you go throughout the country, there you find Blue Jays ready to receive and welcome you, as if they were the owners of the soil. They are perfectly fearless; they will come and sit on a branch within a yard of your hand, when you are eating, and look at you in the most inquisitive manner. If they could speak, they'd be sayin, "What you got there? Give me some!" If you leave the mouth of your rucksack open they are sure to jump into it. When you are done eating they will scarcely let you six yards away before they make a dash at the crumbs; and if you throw sticks or stones at them, they will hop out of the way, but they will not take to flight!

"There are very few Blue Jays left in these forests. It maybe an unforgivable sin to shoot one," said Vole, scratching his chin.

Hargis nodded in agreement, "How bout I catch one for you?"

As he said this he took a few crumbs of jerky from the bottom of the rucksack and spread them on his right hand; then he lay down under a bush, covered his face with a few leaves, and thrust out his hand. Me and Vole retired a few paces and stood still to await the result.

In a few seconds a Blue Jay come flying towards the open hand, and alighted on a branch within a yard of it. Here he shook his feathers and looked very bold, but suspicious, for a few minutes, turning first one eye towards the hand, and then the other. After a little he hopped on a branch still nearer, and, seeing no motion in the hand, he at last hopped upon the palm and began to peck the crumbs. Instantly the fingers closed, and Hargis caught him by the toes. The Blue Jay began to scream furiously with rage and terror. But I am bound to say there was more rage than terror in his cry.

Hargis handed the passionate bird over me and I tried to make a portrait of him, but he screamed and pecked so fiercely that I was obliged to let him go after making a rough sketch.

Breakfast was a repeat of the night before and it was soon eaten up. We again set out to the canoe. This time Hargis sang one of the beautiful canoe songs peculiar to this country, and Vole and me joined in the chorus.

We soon passed from the lake into the river which fed it. At first the current of this river was sluggish; but as we went up, it became stronger, and was broken here and there by rapids.

The severe toil of traveling in the backwoods now began. To paddle on a level lake all day is easy enough, cause when you get tired, you can lay down the paddle and rest. But in the river this is impossible because of the current. The only way to get a rest is to push the bow of the canoe ashore. It was a fine sight to see the movements of Hargis and Vole when they came to the first rapid. I knew that I could be of no use, so like a wise man, I sat still and looked on.

The rapid was a very strong one, but there were no falls in it; only a furious gush of water over the broken bed of the river, where many large rocks rose up and caught the current, hurling the water back in white foam. Any one who knew not what us hunters could do, would have laughed if you had told him we were about to go up that rapid in such an egg-shell of a canoe!

We began by creeping up, in-shore, as far as we could. Then we dashed boldly out into the stream, and the current whirled us down with lightning speed, but suddenly the canoe came to a halt in the very middle of the stream! Every rock in a rapid has a long tail of still water below it; the canoe had got into one of these tails or eddies, and there it rested securely. A few yards higher up there was another rock, nearer to the opposite bank, and the eddy which tailed off from it came down a little lower than the rock behind which the canoe now lay. There was a furious gush of water between us and this eddy, but we knew what the canoe could bear, and our nerves were strong and steady. Across we went like a shot. We were swept down to the extreme point of the eddy, but a few powerful strokes of the paddle sent us into it, and next moment we were floating behind the second rock, a few yards higher up the stream.

We darted from rock to rock, gaining a few yards at each dart, until at last we swept into the smooth water at the head of the rapid.

Many times this was repeated that day, and cause rapids were numerous; our progress was slow. Sometimes we came to parts of the river where the stream was very strong and deep, but not broken by rocks, so that we had no eddies to dart into. In such places Vole and Hargis walked along the bank, and hauled the canoe up by means of a line, while I remained in it to steer. This was hard work, for the banks in places were very steep, in some parts composed of soft mud, into which we sank nearly up to our knees, and in other places covered so thickly with bushes that it was almost impossible to force a path through them. Me and Vole took turns with the steering-paddle, and when Hargis needed a rest he got into his place in the middle of the canoe; but we never halted for more than a few minutes at a time. All day we paddled and dragged the canoe slowly up against the strong current, and when night closed in we found we had advanced only three miles on our journey.

The last obstacle we came to that day was a roaring waterfall about thirty feet high. You mighta thought this would stop our journey. Nothing without wings could have gone up that waterfall, which filled the woods with the thunder of its roar; but the canoe had no wings, so what was to be done?

To one ignert of the customs of this country, going on would have seemed impossible, but Vole says, "Nothing can stop the advance of a backwoods voyager. If his canoe won't carry him, he carries his canoe!" We did exactly that. We had reached what is called a portage or carrying-place, and there are hundreds of such places all over this river.

On arriving at the foot of the fall, I set off at once to a spot so's to obtain a good view of it, and sat down to sketch, while my companions unloaded the canoe and lifted it out of the water. Then Hargis collected together as much of the baggage as he could carry, and clambered up the bank with it, until he reached the still water at the top of the fall. Here he laid it down and returned for another load. Meanwhile Vole lifted the canoe with great ease, placed it on his shoulders, and bore it to the same place. When all had been carried up, the canoe was launched into the quiet water a few hundred yards above the fall, the baggage was replaced in it, and we were ready to continue our voyage. This whole operation is called making a portage. It took about an hour to make this portage.

Portages vary in length and in numbers. In some rivers they is few and far between; in others they are so dang many that eight or twelve may have to be made in a day. Many of the portages are no more than an eighth of a mile in length, and are crossed so to avoide a waterfall. Some are four or five miles in length, many long reaches in the rivers are broken by falls and rapids. Voyagers often find it best to take canoes and baggage on their backs and cut across country for several miles to avoid rough places altogether.

Vole delayed starting for half an hour, to give me time to finish my sketch of the fall. It began to grow dark when we again embarked, so, after paddling upstream until a convenient place was found, we put ashore and camped within sight of another waterfall, the roar of which, softened by distance, fell upon our ears all that night like the sound of pleasant music.

*****

It's them eyes. Them killer wouldn't -mind-goin'-back-in-the-big-house-for-murdering-your-punk-ass eyes. Eyes on a face that has caused much weepin' and gnashing of teeth. He mighta been hanging round a long time creeping in commando style ever now and then from the kudzu patches. Sombitch seems the scary type who'd do somethin' so creepy.

Some things you cain't not see. This was mine.

"Ol' Shiv over there comin' back around to check up on his main wo-man, Melody," says gonna-get-thrown-in-a-ditch-not-so new kid. "Loves her like a puppy he wants to kill."

My heart suicided for my shoes, bounced off, rolled into the gutter, got stepped on by big feet Bleedo as it dripped off the edge. My grandmother was always learnin' me, "There's none so blind as thems whut will not see." Reckon' she was tawkin' bout me.

The sun in my world lightspeeded for the hollers and said amen. As if the universe itself simply bends and twists to monster Scrape's will, wrapping itself around his psychotic whims.

I sunk so low I was road kill. When Haggis happened by I was twice kicked and twice run down in reverse. My mouth started spilling words on its own like vomit was the only answer.

He cut me off quick.

"Not somebody I'd want to meet in a dark forest," he says quietly, almost to himself, his voice remaining steady and calm although inside, he's shaken. "You see them two flannel shirt guys that just kinder gathered when he appeared? His dogs. Maybe you're in the wrong place at the wrong time, man. It sucks I know but LOOK at that sidewinder and his attack dogs!"

He looks at Shiv and what looks like one of his toadies that just strolled up, and seeing both distracted, tries to shuffle us back into the sparse shadow that has dropped over the school yard. When Haggis gets scared I barf a lung.

He tawks and peeks around the corner of the building to check up on them. He's tawking a whole lot faster than normal. I can hardly keep up. What I DO hear comes out something like, "Bad news...stay away...lose the girl...play paddleball."

My ears gotta be shock deafened.

I'm on the ground, my vision blurring, trying to slither to an open door into another world where the sky don't open up and shit on me.

The cold air whips at my face turning my hair into a cat-o-nine-tails. I'm babbling something and I thank I'm drooling but I'm sure this must be a bad dream. When my face slams into the window the world comes screaming in.

My heads rocking back and forth like a bobble head. My Pa's got his hands locked to the wheel of his Jeep, a big man on a mission look on his face. He's mumbling a bit and saying, "Uh huh...uh huh...," and keeps on going like I'm not even there. This must be a dream 'cause my Pa never goes driving around with me and stuff. Almost feels good now. Like I'm comin' home.

Then he slaps me on the back of the head yelling, "Hey you. Waked up in there?" This is Power Paw: 911 Emergency. I must be the honorary afflicted.

Fuzzy memories are tryin' to make contact through the thick fog but the brain fog is so thick I cain't cut it with a McCullough. Pa seems happy though. Smilin' like a dumb ass whut just found out he'd married his sister.

"Yep! Your buddy ol' Hargis calls on me and says 'Your boy's out cold, Mr. Rimshank. Better come fetch him. And I thank boy howdy, what the hell has that boy got hisself into now? Dumb ass passing out at school like a panty wettin' girl. Sheeit!! What the HELL am I raisin' here??!!!"

Yeah. Good old Pa and his loving ways. Makes sense when I'm looking for warmth I go to the fire pit and jump in. In my town this is whatchou call a "functional family."

Some folks call Wa'tay a city but everything from it's kinder Indian name to it's everybody-in-your-business-so-don't-step-out-of-line ways it acts more like a town. Exactly like a town. Like a town that was bombed out but drug it's piss and vinegar self back outta the grave to cuss and spit once again. In this part of the world we go down in flames but rise right back up. We don't die we multiply!

Folks 'round here got stuck at the part of the bible that says, "go forth and multiply." It's a tradition we stick to like we stick rifles in our pickup trucks. That and the little plastic Jesus on the dashboard.

With them two thangs we's covered for all catastrophes.

Pain pain with a side helping of pain. This is on the LoveKill Café menu. The place ahmoan be doin' a whole bunch o' eatin' at. Funny how even the most pig slop tastin' swill tastes kinder good after a stretch. Life is so funny it makes me wanna barf up my liver. Instead I barf up my bleeding heart.

You're so fuggin' funny you're killing me.

*****

When I finally did come round to comin' round I saw a furrowed old man looking at me, shaking his head, clenching and unclenching his fists, for all get out looking like a man in the middle of some deep doo doo. I was gettin' to wonderin' but we was evidently on a short wonderin' leash, so's I was pulled into daylight reckoning.

"Son, I know we don't tawk much and all, what with me being off at work and such but thangs happening like you collapsing at school for reasons best known to your pansy ass self, are a might troubling for a man like me whut was raised in and worships still, simplicity. Kids collapsing ain't what I'd call simple. Now your friend Hargis done tole me you got it bad for some filly at school 'ceptin for the fact she's got a big ol monster size King Kong boyfriend who'd tear anybody whut even thanks of getting near her to pieces. From what I'm tole he'd do that just for fun. So what we got here is a failure to connect," scratchin' his chin with what almost looks like pride, and as afterthought, "Well then, maybe you ain't gay!"

I let him ramble on like I knew he would. Bein' from these parts the one thang shared by all folks is the ability to weave a long rambling story for the simplest of thangs. Now what just happened to ME was no simplest thang. But just let old Knurl Rimshank have a go and he'll make it a whompin boot stomper.

Fully deserving of a long rambling story to go with it, of course.

"It's girls then? Yep, the old devil is hard at work day and night. And I tell you son, it's like this. Just one hair on that sweet little honey pot got the pull of a twenty horse team. Once a man's in its pull, they's no escape. I do not believe I need to explain to you what I refer to when I say 'sweet little honey pot. You might be used to callin' it cooter. Got me? Like my high school friend. Evan Elpus. That ol' boy was a "Cooter Caller" from way back"

I nod glumly like a trained seal.

"Well then. Glad we could have this heart to heart. Gotta pony up to the bar then high tail it to work. But if'n you-"

"Where's momma, Pa? Ain't seen her around for like...I don't know. Like she just up and disappeared. Last time I saw her I was...I cain't even remember how old."

Old Knurl Rimshank, man of all seasons with a quick slug to the arm or spit in the eye for anybody anytime, is suddenly at a loss for words or somethin.' Sets there doin' the million mile stare out the front window. One question from me and this runaway train screeches to a halt right on my toes. Ouch!

"Like I says, gotta go. If'n I was you I'd stay away from that there girl unless you're lookin to get kilt. Stay frosty!"

And with that he whooshed away, out the door to places unknown. Much like the magician The Amazing Jack Danielsini. I'd wager he's so shaken up by my innocent question he had to race to the local to slam a few shots of My Son Ain't Gay And He's Cryin' For His Momma. He spent so much time there I felt sometimes like Chilton, the bartender, was a member of our family. I'm sure he's heard more than enough about us to feel puke personal.

So now I begin the next chapter of my story called Where's Momma or the Hunt for Runaway Molly. Pa don't thank much of me. that explains it. Though once a time long ago he was especially "expansive" after visiting old Chilton and tells me, "Turned down a job at Massey in West VA just to be here with you. Didn't right care to be sucking coal dust for a living. That's what kilt MY pa. Killed him dead. One piece at a time. Yep. So's I said Goodbye Kentucky Hello Tennessee!"

I reckon that's his way of saying I love you. Funny it don't feel that way. Feels more like a porcupine quill face slap. And the look in his eyes is pure coyote. Memaw Markens used to say, "Birds build their nests one piece at a time." She also said, "Well slap my ass and call me Sally!" That was jus her way of sayin Hey.

No pregnant oysters of wisdom or nothin.

Still there's somethin there for learning me. Ahmoan have me some Ginger Ale and thank on this whole bunches of stuff. Must be somethin in Memaw's words tryin to bore into me like a jack beetle to clear my eyes. Life out here in the Tennessee Bottoms does have it's trials I tell you.

Suddenly I'ma hearin' the world and seein' the world on Knurl time. His voice is booming inside my head.

"I guess the scare tactics work on some people, but I doubt that drinking pomegranate juice gonna make you younger- it ain't bottled at the Fountain of Youth."

Don't know what he's yappin' at but I'm tore up and wrecked to pieces right now. If his spirit is possessing my body now that would be just jimmy by me. Take over and stumble along my crummy life without me.

*****

The portal is opened; a rift slits down the fabric of space-time, its ragged hems wavering thickly in the air. Immejitly , a shakin' in my bones sense of -wrongness- floods forth, though nothing save sheer and absolute void lingers beyond. Hyperspace, infesting as it absorbs, is obscured by the presence of Something. There is a sound like the death-moan of a thousand angels crushed beneath the heel of a Minotaur.

"AAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCHHHH!!!"

The woolly beast narrows its eyes, trotting towards one of the fractured windows. The tremendous wall swells outward, lightning crackling over its skin like the fat white veins of a pulsating and distended womb; a tumor swollen within the belly of...

This is no country for young men. My dreams is invaded by demons and become nightmares of unsatisfied lust. It's a time when a young man is happy he don't have no farm animals.

Add a few moonlit flexing buttocks shots. She is distracted rather swiftly from the matter at hand; her legs hang over the side of the rafter, the better to be curled around it with little notice. A jug of Salt Water please? Suddenly she sits bolt upright, her ringed hands pressing against her temples her elbows squeezin' together those bodacious...

"Get the fug out o'my head!"

This is a GOOD day. My new world after my collapse. And y'know what? All around Wa'tay goes on without a belch of how d'ya do. Maybe farm animals ain't so bad after all.

You watch thangs happen, you make thangs happen, you wonder WHAT THE FUG HAPPENED!!!!?

World is kinder like all prickly and cold and sleet frosted till I cain't see. When I gets to thanking on the world of Melody Genesis I get a surge runnin up my legs straight to my oh yeah that's all warm and fuzzy and ooh keep me warm sugar. Now I don't know it but I'ma feelin like she might be feelin it too. 'N I knows I ought not to be thankin' on this girl who's now the kiss of death on account of Shiv Lynch, but I cain't rightly help it.

Like she's got some kinder drug she's injectin me with or she's put some kinder ju ju hex on me.

I kin even hear Memaw Markens telling me like she useta, "You ought not do that, young'un, You ought not do that."

Yet I'ma sucked in like a polecat to a lion's den. Mebbe's like Pa says, "The pull of a twenty horse team." And I'm thanking and thankin and sinkin and sinkin deeper into a cold blue funk as I slowly realize that all this pining is to nothing but doggy doo. Ain't no way that ol' Snagglepusss Shiv gone let me near her. My name's on his hit list and my face's on a target lightin' me up real nice for his big hairy Sasquatch knuckles so's he can clock me good 'n' plenty.

I'm rightly ruined. But I ain't gonna-SLAAAAAMMMMM!!!

I crumble like a paper accordion as something slams into me and wallops me to the ground. I'ma gettin' good and pissed when I look up to see the culprit is Melody Genesis. Ballerina angel from above. My insides is boiling like a Possum stew. But when I brush myelf off and stand up the feelin's of rage is poofed away in a pizzle.

"Hey it's okay. Really. Ain't no thang-"

"I didn't apologize, sleepwalker. You were in my way," says Melody. "Please?" she sighs, and brushes me away with her hand.

And with that Melody Genesis, angel of my eyes, tormenter of my loins and dreams, was skitterin' off to places deep inside the mysterious school buildin' that I just know folds out and stands aside for her dainty little self.

I don't mind tellin' you that as godawful as getting walloped was, I did hate to see her go but was jimbob LOVIN' watching her leave. I'ma goin' to Hell, this I know. But I do once again gotta tell you somehow it seems worth it for the britches wreckin' joy I am presently receivin'.

Only a few minutes ago I was steppin' into the quad when in strolled Melody Genesis, a full hive of Wanna Bees in tow. She didn't have to be fabulous she just was. But today's panty buncher was stuck in the realm of cosmetics. She'd run out of her signature color, HotPeach, and just could not cope.

"PLEASE, drooling wanna be me's. You may dismiss," she said before smackin' into me. She locked her fingernails in her sights and studied on them dispassionately before shrugging her shoulder and tossing them away.

She is the vernal equinox of Chillamore Central.

*****

Old heads never grow on young shoulders. Make the organization genuine, and show that you mean business. The teen age abhors shams, and will readily detect any weak spots in the organization. The germs of spiritual disease give way before the sunshine of the spirit, just as fast, if not faster, than the microbes before the sun. Discipline of mind or body has ceased to be a series of disagreeable, rigid postures or exercises.

"TV Head is tellin' me about us teens and how we are in case we ain't figured it out. I s'pose some folk got nothin' better to thank bout than dumb-ass shit. Anyhow, gotta go hang with Haggis today and sort thangs out. This world has pulled itself inside out and is eatin' its own skin.

Shiv is a psycho's psycho. Bad news in 31 flavors. Yet apparently this barbarian among men Shiv is like a little puppy in her hands. Music soothing the wild beast. So says Haggis.

"They've never done anything except sometimes MAYBE hold hands when she allows and now and again kiss. Well, Shiv kisses. Does the lip shimmy. Melody sits there passive, studying her fingernails and looking around like, "Yeah, okay. There's this guy like totally slobber kissing my neck." She will of course slather on the Purell afterward. Fend off any disease before it begins."

I am skittish as jack rabbit to know how he knows this. They's one thang Haggis ain't and that's, silent. He's a tawker, I tell you.

"Okay, I'm on the inside circle on account of being on the team and such and we go out after games and stuff and the girls and Wanna Bees get way too buzzed and next thang you know they're telling all this dirt, mostly about Melody and Shiv. When you thank about it, sounds kinder right like that. Him panting like a dog and her pushing his ass away."

Why she lets him do this when scary big boyfriends are not too popular at Chillamore, his need to slobber her is kinder gross, and he just plain kinder sucks is a mystery even to her I'm guessin'. Also he gives her benefit of silent terror deterrent. According to Haggis and his sources, she allows this because the thought of Shiv mangling all the guys at school would seriously limit her chances of finding anybody. She can't wait to rock college!

At least she's keepin' a positive outlook from that crow's nest.

To save the lives of the male students she agrees to have Shiv come to school every two weeks. He's too scary to bring around more than that. She keeps him on a very tight leash like the way she tells him every time they get a bit too close to the high holies, "Can't do it now, shug. Next time." And he's always satisfied to pout and turn away. She's got him bean bagged like a monkey peddler.

This last part he's goin' on about the high holies I'ma wonderin' how her friends could know this and he says, 'Girls see, girls talk, man. It's vicious."

That rhere's a scary place he's jawing 'bout. Vicious monster girls seein' and tawkin' it up. Don't know nothin' 'bout that kinder stuff. Don't wanna know.

But it is unavoidable.

Gettin' involved in that nasty muck make you stank and drip and suddenly that plague takes you over. But it is where the girls are. Disgustin' but necessary. Is this the awesome part of growin' up I was waitin' on? It ain't all that.

"Social and economic changes have moved this generation a full hundred years ahead of our fathers. The change, however, has a moral menace in it, for the slow but sure ways of the old-fashioned home with its genuinely moral atmosphere have nearly slipped us. Today boys and girls are herded together by the compulsion of the times and moral ideas are in danger of being warped and twisted. Everything about us today is more complex than formerly, and the more complex thangs become the more we herd together."

When I listen to Parker Swinebold learn us on his big Message for YOUth Talkathon show, he's usually purty good. Today though his message sounds to me like he's puttin' a smackdown on us 'cause we's not like the "old generation." I thank he don't have the benefit of studyin' on biology and evolution. Like them professor types always say, "The only constant in nature is change." Tic toc tic toc.

Parker Swinebold. A short fat sweaty man whut stretches his arms in victory V's doin' his hoppin' 'n' boppin' lookin' like that ol' "I'm not a crook" Nixon feller and always givin' you the feelin' he ain't tellin' the whole story. Like he brought the apple pie missin' the apples.

You know that just ain't right.

"With the growing assumption of week-day activities on the part of the church, the moral peril increases. To offset this increasing social danger sex instruction is an insistent necessity. Boys and girls must be taught to see themselves as members of society with all that that implies. To do so means a knowledge of self and sex and their functions and responsibilities. The sources and processes of life must be intelligently understood and thus respected. Ignorance of life does not beget purity, respect and honor. A boy's regard for a girl cannot proceed from lack of knowledge, although this lack may be termed innocence. A girl's love for the best for self and others is impossible unless she has knowledge tinged with the awe of God's purposes. Too often have our boys and girls been merely innocent, such innocence causing their fall. The tree of knowledge sometimes demands a high price for its fruit. To safeguard lives unblighted, the purity and processes of life's mystery must be imparted through instruction to our growing youth."

Cuttin' off Swinebold now. He's out of control and gettin' a smidge agravatin'.

*****

Adolescence: The Physiology and Anatomy of the Sex Organs and Methods of Sex Instruction. This is what we's bein' teached at school. Do you believe it? Always we's thankin' on it but you don't go 'round encouragin' us. It's gonna do nothin' but make us obsess more. It's like they don't know nothin' about the young'ns.

'N they show us these videos about nature and sayin' it's all about breedin' and feedin' and animals is all we are what the fug are they sayin'? The street reeks with the smut and filth of wrong sex knowledge, and our boys and girls are getting experience in the laboratory of the immoral. Seems so me some o that "wrong sex knowledge" comes by way of you'uns showin' us these wild animal pornographies an' expect us to be dead as naked mannequins. And I knows they won't like it much if'n we say, "Animals is all we are."

They'll go Hellwiggins on us. Exactly like Shiv will go on ME if'n I keep Melody in my mind and do somethin' stupid. Not the way I saw my high school day's workin' out. Like they say in California, "Mucho no bueno."

For me, I'm on the watch your life roll by train and we's comin' to your town. On this trip I watch my world go about its whatnots.

UAt the restaurant.

Melody, "Just take his order, look him in the eye and if he says anything remotely funny, laugh a lot." She pushes her friend out the door.

Skipp, "So you working hard or hardly working?"

Chastity thanks it over, decides it's a joke and laughs (a little too late). Skipp looks at her

Soulfully

UIn the Girls room.

Melody Genesis, a beautiful sophomore, stands facing the mirror, applying lipstick. Her less extraordinary, but still cute friend, Chastity stands next to her.

Melody, "So?"

Chastity, "Nothing."

Melody, "Shut up!"

Chastity, "Yeah, happened just like that."

Melody, "Did you change your hair?"

Chastity , "No."

Melody, "You might wanna think about it."

UAt school.

Cletus James, a clean-cut, easy-going senior with an open, farm-boy face, sits facing Miss Pointy, an impossibly cheery guidance counselor.

Miss Pointy, "I'm sure you won't find Chillamore any different than your old school. Same little asswipe mother-fuckers everywhere."

Her plastic smile never leaves her face. Cletus fidgets in his chair uncomfortably.

This gets me thankin'. Been a week since ol' muscle head Shiv's been around these parts so's I'ma gonna make a most likely "dumb ass" move on Melody Genesis. Ahmoan invite her to a party at I don't know where and then we'll see. My knees is shaking just thankin' on it.

There she is, her Shanise, and Chastity. Now's my chance.

"Hey Melody. I was just wonderin-"

She walks on like I'm not there. Maybe she didn't hear me. I catch up and jump in front of her."

"Like I was sayin-"

Now she stops and looks at me dead on. Not exactly in a "happy glad to see you way," but more in a "what the fug is that thang in front of me?" way.

"Hm. Seems I can't move suddenly. Shanise? Why is that?"

The caramel skin hangdog face girl boldly steps right up.

"It's because of this boy person here, Melody."

"Oh," she says, studyin' her fingernails. "Kindly remove him."

Shanise walks up to me like she means to push me away or tawk me away but I bore my eyes into her to send her the message NO!

"He won't go, Melody."

Melody squinches her nose and makes a smelled something foul face.

"D'you smell that stench, Shanise?"

"U hm. I think it's-," she says, rolling her eyes toward me.

"Charming. I think I know you," she says with a smile. "NOT! Now git."

"Now hold up. I was just wantin' to invite yunes to a party, But seein's you ain't interested I'll just-"

"Party? You didn't say anything about a party. Wassup with that, silent Sam."

"My name's Cord-"

"Whatever."

"So you's interested then?"

"My my, some boys do take me for granted. I only said you didn't SAY anything about a party. Now that you have...well...I will consider."

I'm sure it was just a few seconds, maybe a minute that passed, but the time dragged like a dead leg through the swamp. It was like waiting for Momma to decide if'n I had earned the right to stay up a little later than usual. But this was much much huger than stayin' up late or nothin'.

"And this party is where?" counting off on her fingers, "And who's coming? It's a three day weekend so I gotta be selective."

"Well, lots of folk. Mostly from Chillamore and some from," I backpedal fast tryin' to come up with somethin' compellin', "some from Ratchfield."

"No way! You know kids at Ratchfield, sleeper? That's only like the mot WOW school around. Like I remember one time..."

And off she went, ramblin' and reminiscin' a blue streak from here to Chattanooga.

"Isn't that right, Shanise?"

"Uh, yeah. In fact, if I recall it was-""

"So you'll come then?"

"Particulars. Particulars," she says, reaching into her purse to grab a pen. "Write the details on Shanise's hand. Shanise?"

Shanise comes to me like an obedient puppy and offers me her hand. I quickly scrawl my address and throw in my phone number just in case.

"My calendar is getting kinda full lately," she drawls with a quick glance to her fingernails, "and you say this party is when?"

Caught me off guard. Didn't thank on that. I panic.

"Uhm, Sah-ur-dee. Two days from now. That'll be-"

"Just fine by my calendar. Unless you can make it like Sunday. That would be -"

"Uhm,...maybe..."

"You know what? I think Saturday. Okay, we're done. Buh bye!"

And off she flew, flippin' her hair, instructin' her tribe, floating like a jeweled butterfly in a strong breeze of extremely sensual perfume.

An enchanted moment.

I was walking on air and tumbling into walls when Hargis caught up with me and tole me with an excitement in his voice that'd make electricity, "I don't know if you'll live to find out that Shiv Lynch's real "Ma and Pa give it to him" name is Lynne Wagenknecht. Now that there's a name to bring on the whoopin'.

What he said registered but it was like a foggy dream. I heard him but only through a living fog. And then. And then. A rush of emotion unfamiliar. I kinder felt bad for the feller. Not real bad. More "better you than me" bad. Lynne?

Still I had bigger troubles at the present involving parties and where they's gonna be and all and sundry party fixins'.

"You did WHAT?!! I don't...Oh man. I am talking to a dead bonehead."

"I panicked. Took a path and run it hard."

"Kudos for the steppin' out there sfuff, big C. Cool. But you might as well put your neck under the axe blade like that dang ol' Thanksgiving turkey. You' is one death wish mother tucker."

"I'd be much obliged if you help me put 'er together."

"Why did I just KNOW you was gonna ask that. You dumb ass, I wouldn't miss it for nothing!

The sky flipped over spun back around and slammed to the ground in one death dive swoop. Suddenly in one extremely stupendously ridiculously dumb ass move, I had become The Party Feller. I have never had a party though I've been to a few but most probly less than I'll admit to.

The Party Feller has to have a certain look so's everybody KNOWS he's the party feller. So, I just had to snag that cool KamoKommando cap to make me look the part. A party git-r-done feller.

People was lookin' at me weird but I don't give a Farquhar.

*****

I wanted to wear my new party feller cap to school but Haggis took one look at me and started laughin', callin' me the feller wearin' his death hat to his funeral. He's right though. Don't want no advance advertisements or nothing. This thang could explode out of control.

By lunch bell thangs went hog wild.

Vice Principal Blimpover was on the PA system, "Uniformed and armed security forces will be sent to secure the area to prevent the "third hand," from launching attacks."

The flannel shirts said they would counter with their own people. The girls were giggly scared, chattering like a styroid henhouse and most other kids were just loping along trying to stay hid.

The waves of stress and fear kept on rollin' in like a tsunami.

"Let's say that we are left with no choice but to enforce the law," Blimpover tole ChillMore-Radio, our school station. "Those who do wrong will get their punishment. Taking back the area along with other measures are all included in enforcing the law. All this must be done.

Thangs was rollin' right along like a square wheeled wagon. They's nothin' in the Party Feller instructions that tawks about puttin' down riot stampedes. I thank that one's in the AD-vanced course. Course, it's not till the major monster truck sized AD-vanced AD-vanced course they teach you how to deal with balloon head VPs whut cain't get over thankin' they's like the Terminator.

Patience is a cardinal virtue.

Now I'm hearin' some fellers is rowin' across the swamp to get to a big ol' hootenanny hoedown and I'm gettin' all high on the idear but then I find out it's MY party they's tawkin' about and sayin' they's gonna be Hooters girls and git nekkid dancers and I'ma seein' how thangs get outta control quick and all whut I tole about this was Melody and her tribe.

This ain't good.

It hits me that mebbe this warn't no good idear nohow. And I'm thankin' if'n there's a way to back out of this but I thank I've screwed the pooch big time and I'm just gonna have to eat doo doo on this. But I cain't even see clear anymore. I don't thank this is the kind of horrible mess a sixteen year old's supposed to get himself into. Or maybe it is. I s'pose it could be worse.

Trouble is, thangs'll probly get worse from here out.

"Hey Cord. I hear you're having a big party with dancers and I was wondering if I could be one of them. I do a purty good boom chicka bow bow."

I've seen this girl around, thank her name is something like Milky but she's never tawked to me before.

"Uhm, yes'n no. Yes I'm sure you's a good dancer and NO I ain't havin' no party with no dancers. People's jus tawkin' trash."

She makes a pouty face and says, "Well, I don't know about that. I heard it from Melody. You do know her, right?"

Oh god on a biscuit! This was s'posed to be a small kinder private party and such and then it started growin' and growin' and it's startin' to look like it's Melody who's spreadin' the word. She's playin' me for a fool. And she's invitin' swamp hillbillies and such and I don't know what else. I'm trapped like a swamp rat.

"Oh, that's right. Slipped my mind with all the parties I'm attendin'. Yes, a party with dancers. So I s'pose there's no harm in you comin' to do your boom chicka bow bow and-"

"Want me to come by and show you...in advance like?"

"Huh?"

"You know. A little pinch and tickle test drive?"

The sky smashed to the ground. The world flipped upside down again. And next I knew I was once more havin' my head slam against Pa's Jeep while he slapped me upside the head more'n once. I was startin' to thank he got some kind a kick outta doin' it.

"You dumb ass, dumb stupid ass, dumb hitched hisself to a twenty horse team what's draggin' him through cactus. Passin' out like a pussy. I damn well know sure as I'm sittin' here this ain't from MY side of the family. That dang demon from hell woman whut birthed you is long gone and laughing good an' hard at us. WHAT THE HELL'S WRONG WITH YOU BOY??!!!"

I surely don't know what's wrong with me. A girl gets fuzzy wuzzy on me and I pass out like a...well, boy howdy, like a pussy! Cain't I just wet myself or somethin' instead? And I thank I have a snowball's chance in hell with Melody Genesis? Only if'n she likes her fellers flat out and silent.

With ever' step I take this is one never ending nightmare that just keeps gettin' worse.

According to the Tao of Knurl, "You show me a man who's afraid of PUSSY, and I'll show you a closet 'mo."

Reckon that's WHY he's so danged concerned about blood on the tracks bullpucky. My life is kinder broke into two itty bitty worlds: (1) Step onto campus, I'm caught in a whirlwind of party tawkers party walkers and party "what you gonna do" folk." And all this enquirin's gratin on my grub. It's eatin' strong at my Cordness. (2) Then I go home: UNWANTED. Before first gettin' my head near caved in. Like a das boot camp begins with each hello.

Seems Pa is a real Old Man of the Sea.

Don't recall him ever recounting no SAILOR stories or nothin'. I'm jus sayin.

I am seriously confused of most everything but the one geewhillicky one is this whole party mess that's brewing and exploding out the kegs. Among my final list of all lists this party mess I jumped into headfirst like a prize dumbass, will be a high number on that list. Now I ain't sayin' it could be worse. I'm sayin', HUH!.

*****

It was one of those sultry, Tennessee evenings when not a breath of air is stirring; the sewers exhale poisonous gases and the restaurants wheezing them Offensive odors of cooking and kindred smells. Porters in their shirt-sleeves, settin' their chairs, smoke their pipes at the carriage gates, and folks stroll leisurely along, kinder cozy like.

If you're fixin' to run the Kentucky Derby you don't leave your best horse in the stable.

If'n you cut out to Chillamore campus, you might hear Vice Principal Blimpover sayin', "After living a dozen years in Wolcott County, I don't pretend to comprehend their politics. It is a labyrinth of wheels within wheels, and it is understood only by the managers."

He's a fancy tawker.

In a world of conflicting desires reality loses its hold.

When the alarm rings and I have to get to it and get on to school, ain't something I look forward ta. But today, it abso-what-the-hey-lutely makes my day plenty.

Absolutely

I'm happy to dive into the belly of the beast of Party and turn it inside out all pin it and skin it style. Now that there's a one my Uncle Charlie learned me. Charlie Doggett the ramblin' man. There's somebody I miss seein' ever' now and again. Course, him steppin'off a cliff and busting his hip tends to slow thangs some. Maybe next spring or summer. If'n he avoids cliffs.

Way later: Hangin' by the sedge reels in some skunk birds.

"I know as sure as I'm settin here it was that Klammer girl. Never did like me that uppity snipe."

"Dang, Merl. You cain't go after her like no junkyard dog."

"I tell you what, Toad. She'd have a better chance with a junkyard dog. With me she'll be singin and swingin by high noon."

These boys definitely got it in for this girl Klammer and do I feel sorry for her. Mebbe one of them Ratchfield types.

They's farn.

Them types are top of the hill types. We down here are bottom hill types. A Tennessee Bottoms specialty. Sometimes, on them rare occasion when something real real awesome happens, somebody'll go right out and buy a double wide. Livin' the high life. Now we ain't never had no trailer. Trailers is for folks who're easy movers. Ramblin' folk. Hitch up one place for a spell then move on. Kinder life with no roots. Lotsa leaves. Me and Pa's the roots kinder folk. Barky and nekkid n no leaves. All shiverin' like. We's livin' in Memaw's old spread, sure is cold, and it's always been "one step ahead of demolition" as Pa says. He's a Not A High Opinion Of Much feller.

Cold as a thundermug in January.

When he ain't cussin' like a San Diego sailor, he's grinnin' like a possum eatin' sour persimmons. Nothing like Ma. You ask her what time it is & she'll tell you how to build a clock. I sure do miss her. I thank she up and run away. A woman on the run from Knurl Rimshank. Thatere's a whole heap o trouble enough for two folk.

Then me and her's kinder the same presently. She on the run from Knurl and me on the run from Shiv. Like mother like son?

Somehow, that dog don't hunt.

I would surely like to get back to that warm cozy place where I was as happy as a baby in a barrel of tits. Was a time I was there. A whole bunch. Or maybe I'm just havin' breastfeedin' flashbacks.

*****

I was grabbed and pulled into the kitchen for a quick run down as Knurl likes to call it, of the happenings around here at home base. He goes on to tell me that due to matters beyond his control (yeah, right) and this bein' a three day weekend, he's steppin' out with a friend-I know he means lady friend-steppin' out to places not far from but not so near to home base so's he's gonna be gone a day, maybe two, I'm hopin' all three.

"I'm just tellin' you, boy, so's when I ask you what's what you don't look at me all blank faced dumbass and tell me a whole mess o nothin'. Got it?"

"Yessir."

"Good. See you on the flip side."

And that was that. Off in a flash Knurl. Throwin' in his newly figgered slang of the moment like he's some Nashville recordin' Star, "catch you on the flip side." "Course thatere's from them days of vinyl records and shit. That ain't no digital megabyte CD talk. .

I would not bother to tell him that bein' gone on his part is a godsend on my part 'cause when this party gets to rockin' don't want no Knurl to come a knockin'. So it's a purty cool turnaround.

Gettin' on with the rest of my day is like floatin' on a smellin' thick breeze. Somehow with Pa gone and such I feel renewed or somethin'. Like I was kinder weighed down and now I've been turned loose. Day went purty quick more like days I can hardly near remember no more.

And that's a good thang.

A really good thang as I settle down finally after school to put my mind to this "Party" business.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCKNOCKNOCKNOCKNOCK!!!!!

What the hey's goin on around here? Somebody bammin' on my door like to tear it down. I know it ain't ol' Haggis whut enters all silent like on accounta he's at football practice today. Whoever this dumbass is I'ma give 'em a piece of my mind and it ain't gone be purty! I grab the doorknob, swing it back and I'm ready for... "Hey...uh, Melody, uh...Melody Genesis. I knows you warn't just in the neighborhood," mister smooth, "And-"

"Zip it sleeper. I've decided this party has to happen NOW. Too much noise going about the "Saturday" gig and I say we jump into Tic Toc on this. So, where's the booze and stuff?"

"Uh...I-"

"Just testing you," she says, gracing me with a solar smile to warm me from here to December.

"Yeah 'cause I-"

"Shanise!!! Bring in the Jaeger and Jack from my car. And you, uh-" waving her fingers at me like swatting vermin.

"Cord."

"Whatever. You get the music rockin' and no heavy metal crap?" Cooed with a sound so sweet I cain't refuse.

I'm rippin' through my CD collection lookin' for somethin' girl appropriate and I notice I have a real lack in that department. Like if'n I put all my CD's in differnt shoe boxes, sorted by category and such, I'd have me two shoeboxes full of the kind of music Melody would not like on accounta it bein' Heavy Metal, half a shoebox of maybe okay stuff, and absolutely no dance music which is what I'm figgerin' she's into.

But I don't know from nothin' what she likes.

Startin' to get real aggravatin' here and I' feel all alone in a dark mine shaft when out the blue here comes ol' Shanise, Miss helper for all thangs, especially thangs concernin' Melody Genesis. I reckon she's like her gopher girl.

"These here, totally weak. No way," tossing away the Heavy Metal. "But these..." she says, sorting through my "maybes" box like flippin' through a deck of cards, "these have some potential.

I manage a sheepish smile.

"You may have some potential after all, Cord Rimshank."

She knows my name. Amazing! And the way she says it all soft and sweet like makes me see her in a differnt light. A calm amber light where angels fly. Suddenly I feel all at peace with this crazy shit that's happenin'.

Then a picture of Melody races in and obliterates it. I feel so weird. Like I'm cheatin' on her or somethin'.

"Thank you so much, Shanise. I's just-"

A screech across the boomy rooms, "Shanise!!! Drink's on."

"Sorry. Gotta go."

And off she goes, droppin' this enchanted moment in the dust.

Meanderin' through your house ain't meanderin' when you on your way to a Party. It's pump time. It's juicin' time. The blood is racing.

The Earth is wheezing.

There's Clay? What that putty head tater boy is doin' here I aim to find out.

Ol' Clay. Big ol' Clay. Dumbass explodin' Clay.

"Check out them big ol' tater heads. Dang that's some weird shit! Huh huh, huh huh."

Slim Gator ain't been 'round 'ere lately so's I'ma doubtin' he's doing somethin' somewheres or standing right next to me puttin' the moves on this girl whose face is familiar, but no. Another old timer' from the Bottoms, in the day. Did I turn that last wily corner and fall off into fourth dimension or somethin'? Some sharp smells comin' from out there and I am feelin' like a farner in m'own house.

I'm gettin' a fierce impression that Melody fixed up this whole party, folks and treats included. A traveling party. And from the smells reachin' me everywhere somebody in this crowd is holdin' bigtime and bein' mighty generous. She was jawin' 'bout "word getting' out too far" or some such pigeon squat then she shows up with a convoy in tow. I believe this is partyin' Melody Genesis Style. Fast, loose, and dangerous.

She is most definitely a Star.

Not my type at all. I like the more deadly beautiful and calm. And thatere's a word, "calm," that don't make it into her world much. Still, I am impeccably drawn in.

Something's most definitely wrong with me. I'd bet sure as Shyan. But I got no interest to set on it. I'm like a traveler in my own life enjoying the ride and most definitely the views.

Got no call to be all Aldous Glumly about this crazy business. "Be careful what you ask for, Stavey," says Memaw, slappin' me upside the head with her little sayins. I never did figger if'n Ma and Pa meant to name me Stavey or just the way Memaw tawks in her deep hillbilly drawl, she's really sayin' Stevie. And Pa ain't never been no help atall on that count.

"Stevie Stayvie, what's it to ya, boy? Learn it. Live it. Love it. Don't go fag on me."

So the way I seen it when I decided to give it a good hard look was whatever name I got is one that'll be with me forever an' I just don't like the Stavey thang mostly 'cause I cain't tell if I like it, hate it, or wanna stomp it into the ground and KILL IT DEAD! Reckon it's a swine plop o all three. The triple threat of naming.

The turkey with the longest neck will be the one everybody will be shooting at. Miss Nirdam expounded the rules of proper punctuation.

"Use it sparingly but accurately, the period is your friend. Fear not the period."

I tell you what, I'm glad to be thankin' and rememberin' on that 'stead of livin' it right now. It was bad enough in the past. I'm fixin' to learn from my mistake and move on this time. No pleasure to be had in the Punctuation Pit. "Ceptin maybe if I slithered to desk third from back right side of the room and get up close and personal with ol' you know who. But we ain't on them terms just yet. Hope springs out me ever' time I linger on it.

Lately it seems hope comes 'round posin' as chigger to go by unnoticed. But that ain't possible. They's only the most vilest aggravatin' crazy makin' little suckers you never wanna meet. They show up as annoyin' red bumps as they draw first blood then fierce itchin' begins. It grows and spreads. Nothin' like it ain't no argyin' it. Surface of parts go hard red welted. From your feet and ankles upwards, and 'specially at them tender places your momma tole you never dare to scratch in public, a fierce deadly itch takes hold.

Lingerin' for days and even weeks.

Kinder like hope's been 'round here. See it lingers in the shadows comin' out only if'n you woo it, then it grows real huge and takes you over like a cruel jester. If I felt I really had a chance with Melody, I got my paddles and I'm jumpin' in the speedboat.'. But I know for me and her to get hitched is like Rimshank Bizarro Network stuff. I like baskin' in her glow. I'm goin' totally and entirely on luck hopin' it's my lucky time. If I'm right, Halle-fuggin-lujah. If I'm wrong, life goes back to it's misery on Monday wizzery on Sunday run leavin' me right where I began. Almost. If I come back around to the same ol' same ol' "post" Melody, I'ma gonna be a shrill sliver of my former self. Jumped for the gold ring, tumbled off his horse, got mangled in the wheels. Now that kinder pain's got a lot in common with chigger pain. Keeps bitin' and never stops.

Chiggers dine at their local you and me only in their childhood. Later they become vegetarians whut live on the soil. Like that Andromeda Strain stuff.

Thang's hottin' up along with the weather. Jiggery pokery. Good times

This party'll be behind me soon so's I'm already sudyin' on trucks. Around here there's bunches. The best ones fly by on the dusty, pot-holed road at a hundred miles per hour. I'm going to buy a van and convert it to camper by weekend, work van by week. It's gone be bangin'. Cain't git no girls without no ride. It's a gotta have.

So I'm driftin' into the background here at the party, MY party, and I'm wonderin' why. Why the fug I let this girl whup me into this like my own personal typhoon. Can you believe it?. Then Melody sweeps in. Grabs me by the arm. Lugs me out to her car. Throws me in the front seat and as I fly in I see Shanise and Chastity in the back. These friends of hers are like twin angels or devils I don't rightly know. You got Shanise, large, dark eyes, black, silky ringlet-like hair, petite, graceful figure, and island girl face, and Chastity, all girl and woman smashed into one moonshine brew and kinder dizzy but you cain't be so sure on it 'cause of her fineness.

And off we go with Lead Foot Girl.

'N I'm s'pose to wake up soon and find this is a good idear? This wild jungle love party I don't recall doin' so much as bein' dragged into it. Seems I was the one goin' about tawkin' party real big time mover like, but I reckon I had a differnt picture in my mind of how it would all turn out. I've been taken on a wild ride by Melody Genesis and she ain't let go of the wheel long enough-'ceptin when she lets go the wheel for effect-and I cain't see any way out 'ceptin' through the windows goin' around the widest ass turn I ever seen and I swear we just caught air on the upswing. The car comes crashin' down and we's left alive, or somethin' much worse. I'm huddled up like a baby in the front seat and lookin' at Melody who is absolutely radiant.

The girls are gigglin' nervously in the back which I notice is somethin' girls tend to do when they's jittery. Jittery and nervous seem to go together. Same as Jiggly and Wiggly. Birds of a feather. We sweep around a turn and I see a squad of squirrels scatter but maybe I'm hallucinatin' what with all that green genie floating through my house. And now in this car. Chastity was wavin' her little "gotta smoke this joint" around the back seat and it looks like she sparked it.

"Hey girls. Got some kick-it-up with me," waving it over her head, "Wanna fly?"

No escapin' hallucinatin' in this crowd. Looks like I'm the only occasional puffer in the group. These girls are like seriously bigtime tokers. Do I know how to pick 'em or what? Most popular, most wasted. A strange mix that. But maybe it ain't so strange after all. Maybe it makes all the sense, the "only " sense, in more than one universe. It ain't the first thang that settles on you when you get to studyin' it. Yet there's a niggling somethin' that says it's the way thangs is supposed to be. All tore up and thrown slip slop back together. A twisty limbed scarecrow searching for lost cornfields.

*****

A whole bunch of time musta passed and lots of scared critters must've run away from our renegade car of death. The black was still pitch and all but frogs could be heard. That and Shanise and Chastity snorin' to wake the dead. And me, face down in Melody's lap. And did I happen to mention that she's wearin' her trademark "you gonna go out in THAT?" short skirt for which my face and tender nose are much obliged?. Musta done a face plant or somethin'. I'm catchin' a strong scent of sweet mixed with a faint tang of citrus. A mystifyin' blend!

The essence of Melody Genesis. Feel like I've died and gone to heaven.

If this is what dyin's all about I'm feelin' like I bought the wrong ticket back somewheres. I could take to dyin' like this on a regular basis. Long as I wake up in the same spot. Comin' home to a place I never been before.

The back seat girls are stirrin' and chatter's on us.

"Oh, my my Cord Riimshank. Are you stickin' your nose in Melody's hoo ha? That's mighty forward of you don't you think?"

I snap upward and hit my head agin Chastity's face.

"God love it! What the hell's wrong with you, Rimky?" She takes to using Jergens Healing Hands lotion on her face. "Good for wrinkles to be. Damn that hurts, clod ball!"

Suddenly I'm public enemy, or should I say "pubic" enemy, number one.

"And I'll bet you knew I wasn't wearin' no panties, didn't you, stink muffin? Landin' your face right on the magic spot. That's just coincidence, right?"

I race to my defense. "We was bouncin' around, you was racin', critters were scatterin', dark was cloakin', and I must've went out cold or somethin'. I did not could've known where I was fallin'. Though I must say it was nice 'n' soft."

"I knew he planned, it Melody. The smirk on his face told all.'

Thanks Shanise. Quiet as a nun then you pop up with incriminatin' bullshit. And I thought we was like friends. You are an odd girl and hard to read. First I thanks you's comin' onto me or somethin' then you turn cold and start launchin' bombs at me. Thissere's a dangerous crowd I'm travelin' with. Like Bonnie times three and Clyde. Only I'm surrounded.

"Okay, like for punishment for crimes committed against Melody and all concerned girl parties, I say we tie him up to a tree and let the forest critters have at him. Fitting in a creepy kind of way."

Melody flips her hair. "Must the punishment be so cruel, Judge Chastity? Can't we just tickle him to death with prickly pear branches?"

"Draw blood?"

"Yeah. Sounds splenderificous, right? The night, the people, the sounds, the horror!"

"I'm gettin' kinda excited back here," huffs Shanise, mussin' up her hair and grabbin'at herself in a way that makes no mistake about it.

"Agreed! Let's bag 'im girls!!"

Now Miss NoUnderbritches and her tribe fall upon me like hungry momma bears and I'm feelin' for the first time afraid for my life. And that's sayin' somethin' considerin' the fine job of crash up NASCAR drivin' she did on the way in here. This place that is likely to be my burial grounds. This place somewhere southwest of Tennessee Bottoms. And I know damn well there's gators lurkin' about purt near here.

After scrapin'and tusslin' they finally overpower me, stuff Melody's panties into my mouth-they was lyin' like dogs the whole time-and now I'm stretched across a tree stripped down to my skivvies while the tribe of Miss Might-Could-Be-NoUnderbritches set round a little fire they've started tradin' stories about boys and parties and drugs and danger. It didn't matter me fallin' into Melody's lap, they was fixin' to bag me all along. They ignore me like I'm not there, even tawkin' about me and stuff. The uncomfortable feelin' grabs me by the throat that I'm watchin' three meat packers on break.

"So what do you think of this Rimshank? I thought he had potential but now when I look at him, he seems almost naked!"

"Oh, I know. Don't you just hate it when that happens? Like you didn't wanna even see somebody and suddenly they turn up nekkid on ya. How rude!"

'This is a most heinous crime. I think we should cut-"

"His goodies off! I've got my Buck knife with me like a good little Girl Scout."

Melody was droolin' and lookin' at me with a glazed animal look in her eyes. I'd never seen her look so savage. So unbound. Once more I wondered what the hell I was thankin' about when I took up with her and her vicious man part hungry tribe.

My face was hangin' all, "Huh?"

Musta been I figgered 'cause Chastity got on me.

"Lemme see if I can put it in 'Cord speak', "We done carried your ass to Fire Island, son. Your finely selected Piggly Wiggly boxers are quaintly appropriate, by the way. So it's like this; You wanna roll with the Melonator, this is how we roll."

"Hey now, I ain't ignert!"

"Didn't say you was, just sayin'."

Chastity sure picked up the Tennessee drawl and stuff real natural like. Makes me wonder if'n she's like one of them closet hillbillies. All the way from Jersey.

"If there is a place called Hell, the hottest place is reserved for you savage cannibal girls. You'uns lack souls."

"That is probly the most intelligent words I've heard you speak. Thank you."

"Uh huh."

"Would you like your parts regular or crunchy?"

Chastity you are pure evil! Looks like I done stepped in it now. Real good like with no Muck Boots. And I'm not even sure how I ended up here in this perdicament but I can honestly say it ain't happenin'. Now where is ol' Haggis when I need him? He done tole me, "Anywhere you are C just thank on me real hard and I'll connect to you through the universal grapevine and take off for and you comin' in hot!"

Don't see that it's workin'. I mean, whilst bein' all tied up to thissere tree like some dumbass tree huggin' hippie, feeling the wind chill through me as it runs up my skivvies, I must tell you this is mebbe the most uncomfortable I been in a long dang time. And why? "Cause I wanted what ever' young feller wants only I got it in a way I could not have seen comin' with a 20,000 power field scope.

*****

Who'd a thunk it. Melody Genesis. Darlin' of Chillamore Central, babe amongst babes, sweet tater pie, so beautiful you look in the dictionary under beautiful you sees her picture. With all these amazin' thangs who'da thunk she'd be some savage cannibal type. I still don't know what she and her tribe is fixin' to do with me. But ever' time they gets near that fire ring and start to gettin' drooly and glazed hungry eyes lookin' I must declare I'm fit to piss myself.

'Ceptin' I won't sink to this humiliatin' turn.

I'm also gettin' the distinctly uncomfortable feelin' that wearing thesere Piggly Wiggly Special Limited Edition skivvies is helpin' to steer the present company toward hungry thoughts.

"I prefer crunchy. Something about that just makes me happy," says Shanise, doing a pirouette.

Glad my misery brings you such divine pleasure you possum greasy cannibal girl. I have a very vivid imagination that conjures up horrible thangs. If I'da known I'd be goin' about in my skivvies I'da worn somethin' not so hunger leadin'. But you cain't plan for this kinder thang.

"And don't forget I'm very very VERY good at carving. Took first at the County Fair three years running."

"So I should feel honored by your-"

"Damn straight, bubba. It IS a special treat, only for the most discriminating gourmet palate."

"You tellin' me all you'uns're plate haters? Gonna discriminate agin plates?

"Yes. That is exactly what I'm telling you."

"Don't that beat all..."

There are times, times, where I must confess I wish to be elsewhere in a purely desperate way somewheres so far the present present cain't no longer touch me 'cause I believe I'v bowed my last note in the life fiddlin' contest.

I'm off thankin' of me, telling Haggis-when I finally catch up with him that is-telling him about this uncharacteristic deadly turn thangs have dropped me into. A bubblin' stew pot with me the main ingredient. Bubble buble toil and trouble.

"I'm tellin' you it's the most brutality you want to see at one time," I says, "They's goin' at each other, clawin' and kickin' and rippin' out their feelings to stomp 'em, shred 'em, and kill 'em dead. These are ruthless competitors!"

"Kinda like BuF Bobbard and Chunky Larry, 'ceptin' wit girls instead?"

"Or like Go Boy and Chestnut on accounta they're cooler names."

"What in wiggins is Chestnut? That ain't no fierce name."

"No, not like BuFF Bobbard. He go catawampus and shit."

"Yep."

"Or Chunky Monkey Larry. That's where Ben & Jerry got the name."

"That ice cream is gooood!"

Don't last near as long as I would prefer. But the effects linger. I can even taste the ice cream. Or is that stomach bile.

"Hey Chastity. I knows where they is a serious and I mean SERIOUS big stash of weed round here. Me and Hargis been all through here and we come on a big ol shitload growin' out here. Kinder like a stompin' grounds kinder thang."

"Big whoop."

"Okay. But if'n you cut me loose for a spell I can fetch it and you can have the whole dang thang. Hargis, and he knows all thangs about weed, says it is probly the best dang weed he's ever and he should know, I tell you.

She stared at the ground, the fire, her fingernails, and tussled her hair. Deep thankin' goin' on here. Then she shook her head like she was disagreein' with whatever she was thankin'.

"No. I think no. Guys always talkin' me into things, 'Hold this Chastity. Take this Chastity. Get over here Chastity.' And everything they're promisin' me don't happen for me, only for them. Guys are just evil. It's-"

"I ain't one of them kinder guys. And in case you forgot, you got me all tied up. Seems no one but Y-O-U is in charge now. The other gals've left you at camp while they's off doin' thangs."

"I don't-"

"Thank on it."

It didn't take long I would love to report. But she had a whole bunch of thankin' to do on this topic and went into deep brain search for a long ass time. The mind is a terrible thang to waste and right now she was fixin' to waste not a spit of it. Too bad she chose NOW to make her stand. Sun was already beginnin' its downward spiral.

"Those two always ditchin' me. I hate it! They doin' me like guys! Sometimes it's just...," driftin' off deep in thought, a word bubble over her head, smoke pourin' out her ears..

"FETCH ME THAT WEED BUBBA!!"

Out here deep in the thickets of the swamplands, there are many strange uncommon critters, some not so uncommon but still strange, and other ones more dangerous than all. These would be gators. Easy enough to avoid if'n you stay away from their turf and I don't plan on goin too near the water's edge.

But as you go further out you may see a unique breed of old time loner folk whut build their houses from stones and logs and live entirely off the land around them. Real free spirit types. There's one feller in particular comes to mind, Hamish Wheatley.

Few knew him by his given name. To folks whut come to his jumble of cave-like homes scrabbled from a rocky shoulder of the Mississippi River, he was Crazy Clem.

Accordin' to some, "It was his wish to die there in the caves. He was the epitome of a free spirit."

His change into Crazy Clem began when he crossed a wooden bridge over the Mississippi River in 1957 and built a ramshackle home on the side of a hill. He spent the rest of his life here, fashionin' one cavelike dwellin' after another, furnishin' them with castoff doors, car windows, old tires and other leavin's.

He was born here and grew up the son of a moonshiner with a mean streak. He rebelled against his heavy handed father and ran away at a young age, doin' all manner of 'travelin' around the world before settlin' here. He was married once, for a time, to a pen-pal bride from Mexico. She, left him for a job as a potato sorter and was murdered by her roommate. He claimed to see her spirit in the flickering light of a kerosene lamp on the cave walls.

I'd seen him once before and I was wonderin' if I'd see him out here. Hopin' I wouldn't on accounta I was just in my skivvies. Chastity would not give me my britches, "Hell no! Then you're gonna try to run away."

I was thankin' of doin' it anyhow. I mean that was kinder like my plan. But with the sun a sinkin' and the night critters bein' too hungry for a feller to be wanderin' around in skivvies, I was sure fixin' to get back to camp quickly. "Ceptin' I gotta find me somethin' to pass off as weed and had to get real clever or real lucky right quick. The skeeters was already nibblin' at me. Dusk IS their time.

Finding a clump of somethin' that might have been Jimson weed or I don't know what, I figgered it would do. I mean if this was like "the best ever" as I had tole it, it might just be very differnt from the regular weed 'cause it's "super weed."

Then it smacked me upside the head. If'n I go back there ain't nothin' gonna improve for me so's I best hit the trail and put a fur piece between me and them cannibal girls. I don't need to thank on bringin' some killer weed from wonderland back to Chastity. I need to ESCAPE!

Yes Chastity, I s'pose I'm another feller who's doin' you wrong and runnin' out on you. But when a girl's got you tied to a tree in nothing but your skivvies and keeps making fires and tawkin' 'bout eatin' parts, I gotta tell you it is not a place you wish to stick around.

*****

"Time for a pint innit?" Why this ol' boy's tawkin' to me about pints and such when I'm a dang stranger runnin' through the swamplands in his dang ol' skivvies makes me feel downright farn. He's settin' on a rocker in front of a broken down old shack with rusted out cars and moonshine bottles and shippin' crates out front like a pass through package store. Only he's got a bunch o t'shirts with pictures of Piggly Wiggly, Sunoco, and Co-Cola strung out on a line like he'd been sellin' 'em only now he's closin' up shop. Some of them companies is so old (Sunoco?) ain't seen 'em for like ever.

"Uhm, thanks but no. I ain't a drinkin' feller."

"Well slap my ass and call me Sally! I thought for sure seein' you runnin' about in nothin' but your skivvies you lost a bar bet. Real bad too."

"No it's just...how much for one o them shirts?"

"Oh uh, 10 dolla. I don't reckon you got some cash tucked into yer underbritches."

"No sir, they's all I got."

"Well now, this is a perdicament. Tell you what. Might could make a trade."

"What?"

"Your underbritches for a shirt. I reckon I can turn 'em 'round in no time."

Suddenly I was sure as Shinola I was beamed to another planet lookin' remarkably like ours but with some obvious differences. Glowin' squid-like creatures, herds of herbivores that hang onto a cliff face and bright yellow predators that kill their prey with stingin' tails, are a few of the critters I expect to see in the fantastical cosmos. Instead I see a man whut looks almost lifelike and regular 'ceptin he wants to trade me the only clothes I have on for a stupid ratty old t'shirt he could rightly just out and give me as a charitable act. I'm figurin' he's actually the bright yellow predator with a stingin' tail in disguise and if'n I get nekkid it's kinder like invitin' a vampire in. Then I'm askin' for it.

"Mebbe I'll just find the highway or somethin' and-"

Fuzzy, sweaty, black black black, strange buzzing in my ears, in my brain, loud colorful images, alien creatures, glowin' squid like creatures named Lem, fellers sellin' beads and t-shirts, a feller holdin' a cup of somethin' hot up to my lips shoutin', "Hey kid. You awright innere?"

Me comin' too under a lit up carnival tent or a bedroom on fire, or next to an old rusted out truck with the lights on. Evidently the everything was more than I could bear. I done passed out, AGAIN! This is gettin' very very annoyin' and incredibly inconvenient. This feller was tryin' to get me nekkid last I remember and now he's savin' my life. Do I owe him now?

I'm in a deep fog and feel like I'm seein' this on the TV. "Uhm...I..."

"Mebbe you ought not to be talkin' just yet. And hey, I apologize for the shirt thang. It was wrong of me to ask you for a trade and God passed judgment on me right quick, praise Jesus You can have the shirt. Least I can do."

"No, it's okay, you's-"

"If'n you's gonna say I'm a businessman and by rights I could be sellin' you the shirt, you're right. But I'm also human with a divine obligation to help the less fortunate. In this instance, that'd be you. So take your pick."

Amazing! For once this passin' out business worked in my favor. Maybe I could capitalize on this and get some cool stuff. 'Ceptin next time I won't be comin dressed only in my skivvies.

"Much obliged, uhm-"

"Lemuel Johnson. Most folks call me Lem the Shem, Old Man of the Swamp. Been in business here, countin' my Pa and his Pa, near 125 years. Yep, thissere fortune in rare and amazin' stuff was passed down to me lock stock and barrel. 'Ceptin of course them t-shirts. Them's my own invention 'cause I figgered some folks just wanted a neat shirt instead of a big hunka antique somethin' or other."

"I thank I like the yellow Sunoco one 'cause it's the most unusual one. You got one in like and extra extra extra large? Got some yardage to cover."

Lem the Shem looks at me real hard, tilts his head, then leans back and busts out in a big ass laughter like to raise the dead. "Oh, oh, ha ha ha, you's a f-f-funny one kid! Gotta cover some yardage. Yep, I reckon you do. But it's just about sunup now. Somewhere's I can take you?"

So I got on my extra extra extra large yellow Sunoco t-shirt courtesy of Lem the Shem, sittin' in the jump seat of his broke down jalopy, racing through the muggy night and the living swamplands dodging gators and duckin' skeeters breakin' out for the highway.

Along the way I tole him a bit of what had happened to me and he said that he's heard that kind of thang before from some of the young'ns and he's not sure where fact and fiction separate. There is no Fire Island 'cept there's a isolated part of the Delta region that kids sometimes hang around and get into mischief. He's guessin' this is where I was taken though I don't let on it was girls whut stole me. I tell him it was just friends of mine funnin'. He said he had friends like that too. One got to be so much fun he shot him to make a point. No one ever did find the body. Now I don't know where fact and fiction separate neither. I DO know he's startin' to scare me good.

"So where you live then?"

"Right up the street," I say, a good five blocks from my house. Cain't say I trust him enough to let him into my neighborhood.

The sun is high uppere now sayin' "good morning dumb ass."

He drops me, we say goodbye, I thank him for everything, and he tells me if'n I ever am in the vicinity of Lem's Antiques and Oddities Emporium stop in to pass the time of day. I tell him no offense but I hope not to be down that way again. He nods, starts to laughin' hard and puts pedal to the metal and peels out. I gotta say he was givin' me the creeps and I 'm glad to see him go.

*****

Walkn' home in a big ass t-shirt fits me like a skirt would maybe be a bit more'n odd most places. But here in the Bottoms we got little girls runnin' wild with no bottoms and boys in tigthy whities ridin' skateboards so I'm kinder overdressed. 'Course no one knows that unnerneath my shirt I'm totally commando. That alone makes me the odd man out.

As I reach my front lawn, a little wild girl races up, sticks her head under my shirt and yells out, "I see his pee pee! I see his pee pee!"

I shush her away, tuck up and run in the front door which is unlocked I don't know why. Thank God for small miracles. But I breathed an easy breath too soon. As my eyes adjust to the dim inside light I see a disaster of epic proportions. Armageddon proportions. This is my house that two days ago was definitely not Better Homes & Gardens but was also NOT as it is now: Demolition Digest.

These people that Melody and her tribe brought to descend on my house like ravenous vultures have made a ginormous mess for me that will bring Knurl down on me like a swing hammer. But he won't be home till...THIS EVENING!!!

Oh shit shit shit a bazillion times SHEEEEIIIIT!! Maybe I can move somewheres more'n a hoot 'na holler way where he can never find me. Maybe I can change my name and nationality. Maybe, I can curl up and die so's he can find my dead witherin' body and feel like a total loser for drivin' me to it. Or maybe, I can just suck it up, get busy, and quit fussin' like a baby when it's only me whut caused this mess anyways.

So it's clear I got lots o options but all of them result in me gettin' my ass whooped somehow. Rimshank you are in kudzu deep doo doo.

I set down on my sunken tumbledown couch to reflect on what's happened to me over the last two days and I ain't happy to say I don't like what I see but I don't. Rewind video to day one. I slide up to Melody Genesis as she's patrollin' the campus and invite her to a party. A party I have no idear of nothin' 'ceptin' I want her to be there. Preferably alone but that ain't gonna happen. So I invite her and her tribe, Shanise and Chastity. Maybe that's a good thang I thought for a few minutes. Until they all showed up at my house, Friday night instead of Saturday 'cause Melody decided she wanted the party right then. She said to me it was because word was spreadin' like news of a Monster Truck Rally and she wished to cut off the rumor mill and have the party one day early. I could not hep but agree. Although once the party began I noticed streams of people comin' through the door, people I don't even know, and I realized right then and there like a pummeling kidney shot that Melody had got word 'round herself so as to pick her own "designer" crowd.

This would be called The First Strike.

Shock was settin' in and I was just startin' to get smooth rollin' with it when she grabbed me by the arm, threw me into her car, and sped off like we was on the run from something or other. She never did say. Just kept goin' full bore into the fading light. This is The Second Strike.

Now here's where I get right fuzzy on the details.

See, them girls, at Chastity's insistence, was tokin' up some strong weed and chatterin' away, me just settin' there observin', not wanting or needing to toke as I was prisoner in the vacuum sealed car so I was suckin' in the wild fumes. They kept the windows rolled up on purpose. "Increases the buzz bigtime," said Chastity. No one disagreed. Wasn't too long after this that everybody got downright agreeable on something or other that resulted in me being whisked away to Fire Island where they gagged me with Melody's panties- even though they'd tole me she was "commando"- stripped me to my skivvies, strapped me to a tree, and built a fire ring where they set around it tawkin' 'bout parts, regular and crispy, and how they was gettin' drooly hungry.

This was Strike Three.

Now it seems to me that this "commando" or not is a key point here. When through whatever means we wound up all slouched over asleep and I woke with my face buried deep in Melody's lap, so near to her high holies I scented 'em callin', this was not a choice I had made to end up there like that in those circumstances. It was a natural occurrence. When the girls got to yapping 'bout how I MUST have knowed Melody was commando and so planted my face there on purpose they at that point took me prisoner and off to Fire Island penitentiary I went. By the time they stuffed Melody's panties into my mouth, I was too stunned to protest "Hey, she warn't commando," and weakly surrendered to my fate at the hands of these -I was shocked to find-cannibal girls. Then they trussed me up to keep me fresh as I was the main course.

Yep, that sums up the capture and imprisonment part.

The other part after that got even weirder. I'm trippin' and sloshing through the swamplands, barefoot, tired, hungry and covered from head to toe with bug bites. and when I see the sun startin' its downward slide into devil run free black-night I figger this is my last few moments and I'm prayin' for a miracle. And wouldncha know it I come upon a old boy closin' down shop: Lem's Antiques and Oddities Emporium. I see a whole bunch of t-shirts strung on a ropeline and I'm thankin' one of them would do me nicely 'ceptin' I ain't go no money, still I, near nekkid bug bit boy, ask him how much, "10 dolla" he says, and before I can thank on what to say next he says, "I'll make a trade of a shirt for your underbritches" and the stress of what I'd been through and the thought that mebbe this ol' boy was tryin' to perv me was so much I done passed out in my new enemy's territory.

Well, I did come 'round by and by, a long ass time later, and he had a change of heart tellin' me it's only right he should just up and give me a shirt which I was okay with but after slippin' on the shirt I said to myself, "He's still a businessman" and I got thankin' I didn't want to owe him anything so I stripped off my Piggly Wiggly Special Limited Edition skivvies and give them to him in trade anyways. So I ended up semi-commando after all. The way his eyes lit up when I stripped down should've tole me somethin' was weirder here than I would care to know. Then he says, "You wanna pawn 'em or sell 'em?" I said "sell 'em," So I sold them for the shirt I already had on which was a kinder backasswards way of makin' a trade. But my trials was not yet over. Unfortunately one of my nosy neighbor girl young'ns musta seen me back lit comin' down the street so she stuck her head under my shirt and announced to the world what she had just spied.

Don't these little ones sleep past sunrise no more?

And I thought I couldn't feel worse than I already did. Until I walked into my house and saw the demolition crew had visited and done a fair job of puttin' everything all catawampus. I sunk so low I melted to the floor like a sun baked slug.

Bein' an explosive demolition engineer must be lots of pressure. Use too little explosive and you'll leave the building standin' and laughin' at you; use too much and you'll be slammed with bills and lawsuits from neighborin' property owners whut don't have windows no more.

These ol' boys whut done my house up didn't do so good a job for demolitions engineers 'cause the house is still standin' and laughin', but they did a larger than life job for a bunch of drunk and stoned party punks. This is my payment for givin' Melody a party. "No good deed shall go unpunished," Memaw always said with a toothless snicker.

I sure do hate how often she is right, "Course, she also smoked on her corncob pipe and hurled lobs of brown spit at anybody whut got on her bad side. That was most people. She nailed me once "on accident" she said but I was never sure on that one. In school I'm bettin' she was sent home with lots of report cards whut said', "Does not play well with others."

She was an ornery old cuss. Accordin' to her, it was her right.

It was best for you if you just agreed.

*****

When you put your mind to somethin' it's amazin' how fast things come together. Been goin' at this house cleanup and in two hours looks purty good if'n I says so m'self. Almost looks like no party happened at all. 'Ceptin for the giveaway weed and beer stench that's a devil to get rid of, not too bad.

I've earned myself a Co-Cola.

Thisere's still my favorite drink of all. I mean, there's others that fill the emptiness ever now and again, but Co-Cola is always first place in my selection.

BAAAANNNNNGGGG!!!

Door slams open and Melody comes runnin' in screamin' bloody hell. Cain't unnerstand a word she's sayin 'cause she rippin' fast as the Mississippi. But don't matter nohow. Once again she's got me by the arm, draggin' me outside, tellin' me now I can finally unnerstand her that Shiv's on his way to kill me, tear my balls off, chop off my head, not necessarily in that order 'cause he got wind of me runnin' 'round in my skivvies in Melody's presence and sure as a million fire ants don't take kindly to it, no sir. I am innocent, yet again. INNOCENT!! But no one whut matters is listenin'. Just me and three cannibal girls here and I'm startin' to believe thissere's a nightmare that's fixin' to keep repeatin'.

I gotta say somethin' here as she's stuffin' me into her car.

"But Melody. I wasn't runnin' around in my skivvies. It was all you'uns stripped me and trussed me up and-"

"Don't mean dog shit no play by play accounting. In Shiv's mind you're guilty as hell and he aims to get revenge."

"But how...who..."

"Uhm...," Chastity pipes in. "Mighta been me who said something about wild savages running around in their skivvies. I don't know. Or was I jus dreaming it? I can never tell."

"That's just dandy, girl. You're a real peach!"

Some sounds are so ingrained into you that when you hear them they trigger certain responses entirely beyond your control. Like if you hear a dog bark, you look. If you hear a snake hiss you move away slowly. And if'n you hear a engine revvin' loud and angry, growling and spittin' fire, your heart starts to racin', your legs start to shakin' like you're shittin' a peach, your mind gets to thankin' "run away, run away." All these things at once. And when that particular truck is makin' all those terrifyin' noises and bearin' down on you fast as a locomotive with a red eyed lunatic behind the wheel, it's time to get: OUT OF THERE QUICK!!

Shiv wheels his jeep in close to Melody's car, almost takin' off the passenger door as I jump in then slams into it puttin' a monster size dent in Melody's door. He knocks us sideways skids off and slides past us and is workin' on doublin' back when Melody slams the pedal to the metal and peels out in reverse. As terrified to piss as I am I have to say she has a rather impressive command of her vehicle. I don't believe I ever seen ANYBODY high tail it in reverse like that.

She goes straight back full out then fishtails some on purpose tryin' to make it harder for Shiv to bear down on her. This was a girl very familiar with evasive maneuverin'. The forest was right ahead which in our case meant right behind and I gotta tell you I thought for sure we was sunk. The trees in this forest left very little gap between them at points and the particular point we were headed for directly looked like we needed to be thread to move through that skinny needle head. Smoke was spewing, stones were scattering, birds were squawkin' and divin' and flappin' away and when we hit the "oh you're never gonna make it" opening, she floored it, fishtailed once again, and slipped through pretty as you please.

Shiv slammed on his brakes and screeched to a near miss with the trees before jumping out to stomp, cuss, throw stones and threaten me from a distance. I tried not to listen, but he had a psycho demon voice that carried. "I'll get you Nature Boy! I know where you LIVE!!!"

So for the moment I was safe from Shiv. But I was back in the clutches of the cannibal girls and I cain't see my situation had improved much.

*****

There's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip. Another one of Memaw's wisdoms. She had so many I lost track. There were her favorites though. One she used a whole mess when Knurl would come a hollerin' was "Sounds like a breedin' jackass in a tin barn." He hated that one and responded by acting out one of her other favorites as he, "Blew up like a jackass on a 10-acre lot." There was a chafing kinder hillbilly love between mother and son but it sure was hard to see it.

Similar to what seemed to be happenin' between me and Melody. After we'd escaped and she had settled into a more leisurely drivin' pace through the forest land, when I ask her What's up with Shiv, anyway? she says to me A buzzard shit on a log, and the sun hatched him. Now I don't care who you are that there's funny shit! It's a moment like this reinforces in my mind the notion: I would drag my bare balls over forty miles of ground glass just to hump her shadow. Not near anythin' really like the Memaw / Knurl thing. I'm just sayin'.

About Chastity, Melody is soft as sandpaper, "If she was any dumber, we'd have to water her.." Ouch! This she says to me. To Chastity eyeball to eyeball she says, "You're so stupid you think you can drown fish!" To which Chastity responds, "But you can, right?" Melody leans in close to me to whisper, "Take her and a bottle of Jaeger and you got a friend for the night."

Used to run wild in thisere forest when I's a young'n but I don't recall it lookin' so gosh danged creepy as it does now. I reckon that there's the force of "terror on your heels." Even got me pictures of me as a young'n, Momma in tow behind the camera, me rollin' through here with my safari hat on lookin' like the all around well seasoned adventurer. A hunter of things wild, huge, and dangerous. And that there's somebody I ain't seen in so long I'm startin' to forget how she looks, and sounds, but I'll never forget her smell. She always had that fresh lemon smell, 'cause she so loved her lemon crop. Something crisp and full of life. Those days of my youth when we spent lots of "quality time" without even knowin' what the hey that was. We was just bein' mother and son. Them days seem so far back in the past now it's hard to connect them as bein' me. Seems as time moves us along we lose some parts of ourselves, add others, and finally become the new improved-we hope-people we is today.

'Ceptin' I ain't so sure about this last part.

With Melody behind the wheel we's high tailin' it supersonic style and I know we are breakin' land speed records for whoever is watchin'.

This time, I'm makin' sure to sit as far squished against the broken in door away from her as I can so's not to get accused of sniffin' her biscuits again or face planting in her lap 'cause I knows she's commando. Already found out that warn't true but by then it didn't mean much.

'Course, thankin' on this commando business does get my mind a churnin' up fantastical things I am almost gosh darned certain ain't gonna happen. Not for me anyways. But a feller can dream.

Once again the girls is in the back seat doin' whatever but seems now mostly sleepin'. At least Chastity is. How she can do this considerin' what we's doin' slays me like Excalibur. But she is out solid.

Shanise on the other hand, has plenty of time to quiz me on my intentions concerin' Melody. Like she's her momma or guard dog. Seems to me one Shiv is good enough for all them things on his own.

"So, Cord Rimshank. What do you see happening with you and Melody?"

"Uhm, don't know."

"Oh come on. I'm sure you've got some itty bitty ideas in that itty bitty brain of yours."

She takes out to whomp on me with her words and I rightly don't know what her damage is but I reckon I am "in her radar" as they say.

"I'd tell her if I were you, sleeper. She's a pit bull with lipstick!" chimes Melody, droppin' in on this interrogation whose subject is herself.

"First off, my name's Cord, thank you very much. And if'n you want to know what my plans is with you and me as to boyfriend girlfriend I don't see there is any chance of that especially with your psycho guard dog boyfriend Shiv on the loose."

"He's just a big puppy dog,' says Melody, studyin' her fingernails and coppin' a quick glance in the rearview. I'm thankin' she's checkin' to see if ol' Shiv is on us, but maybe she's just lookin' at herself, cain't say I blame her for that. She is exceedingly lookable.

"Yeah Rimshank," grumps Shanise, "A big puppy dog with big teeth for itty bitty you."

"Thank you for clearin' that up. My sleepless nights will be far more secure."

"No problem, Rimky. You know, you don't have to sit up there all squashed into the corner. I mean, you can be back here and be sociable. Unless you don't like Chastity and me."

Now thatere's a sur-fuggin-prise. Don't LIKE you and Chastity? Why would that be, seein's you only mugged me, strapped me to a pole, and tried to barbeque me. My mind is thankin' but my mouth got its own mind 'cause it's sayin' shit I don't necessarily agree with.

"I like you well enough. It's just-"

"You're not still sore about what happened on Fire Island I hope. I mean, we were all wasted, okay? So things got a bit CRAZY! People have a right to go crazy sometimes," Shanise says, smilin' real purty like and battin' her eyelashes at me. She does SEEM sincere but I don't know if I can believe her. She's hard to read."

"I promise Cord Rimshank we won't bite. Maybe nibble a bit," she says with a girlish giggle.

Now that little cutesy won't bite thang and her gigglin' gives me the green light.

"Sure, I'll jump in the back with you'uns."

Well I must say divin' from the front seat had its potential for destruction of the Cord kind. But it went easy enough. Now I'm back here with the girls and we's all snuggly cuddly smashed up agin each other like peas in a pod.

Chastity ain't sleepin' no more. Perked right up when she heard her name. I really do thank somethin' ain't right with her in the head.

Just sittin', rockin', watchin' the forest go by at lightspeed, listenin' to the radio station Melody has put on, wonderin' and feelin' weird, weirder by the moment. Settlin' into this new "arrangement" when suddenly I feel a hand on my left knee givin' me a shiver. Then another hand joins it on my right knee. These two girls are layin' claim to me or just restin' their hands I don't know.

I don't say a thang but seems something bein' said is only appropriate. I do neither. I put my hands one on each knee over theirs. And let me tell you Pandora's box explodes!

"Just what do you think you're doing, Rimshank? Puttin' your hand on mine."

"Don't forget ME over here, he's doin' me too."

Melody is not tuned out just listenin' from afar.

"I think he's makin' a play for you girls. Both of you. But I don't know if he's man enough for one, let alone two of the Cyclone Sisters."

"Now just hold on there!"

"What?! We ain't good enough for you Rimshank? Is that it?"

"You's puttin' words in my mouth. I din't say-"

"Then it's settled."

"Settled?"

"Hey Chastity," yells Melody, crankin' the wheel hard right to avoid a skunk crossing in front of us. "Doesn't your father have a cabin out here somewhere?"

*****

Going deep deep deep into the forest is a tricky enough thang and you dang well better have some keen boy scout skills about you or you's gonna be in a heap of trouble. We bumped and skidded through leaves and twigs afore rollin' up to a Lincoln Log style cabin looked like it ain't seen better days in a long ass time.

Busted down old rockin' chair out front, an empty keg, a pockmarked Welcome mat lookin' like its days of welcome are long gone. The steps all creaky and dippin' at spots get you to thankin' you's gonna fall through if'n you dare step on 'em. Evidently these obvious signs was wasted on Chastity whut bounced out of the car, up the stairs, stompin' like a clumsy baby bear the whole way. This maybe bein' her childhood place it makes sense she'd be dumb ass fearless around this broken down shack.

"This is GREAT right?!" A solar smile to light the day, a lit joint in her hand, a cloud of smoke gracin' her entrance.

I watched her skippin' around steppin' and puffiin' and grinnin', saw Melody floating toward me like she was afraid of land mines, and Shanise smirkin' and stuffin' her fists deep in her front pockets like to look all little girl cutesy. I must say with honesty it kinder worked.

On the massive thick front door was signs sayin', "If you's farn, GO AWAY!" and a long instructive sign givin' some deep forest survival tips:

Chiggers: Small, Fugly, Deadly!

1. The best rule: Avoid chiggers if at all possible.

2. Apply a strong insect repellent to your clothes. Apply around the cuffs, the belt line, up and down your legs. DO NOT apply to your skin and dang well do apply to your children.

3. Brush off your clothes ever' now n again. Chiggers can penetrate clothing but usually are lazy. They look for the easy way in.

4. Wear light colored, loose fittin' clothing when in chigger land. Chiggers like dark colors.

5. Wear boots with your pants tucked inside if'n you don't mind lookin' girly.

6. If you can find fresh mint, crush it and rub it around your pants and shirt openings and on your hands and neck.

7. Do not be pettin' and holdin' your pets when they've been out in the woods. Chiggers like 'em better'n they like you.

8. Avoid them wive's tales about curing chigger bites like swine flue. They's not only worthless, they's downright dangerous.

9. After you'uns been exposed wash yer clothes in HOT HOT water not like you do when momma asks you but with soap. Then wash yourself in HOT HOT HOT water. Be sure to scrub down with a rough wash rag to cut loose any free loaders. The sooner you do all this, the better.

10. Follow these simple chigger treatment steps and go get drunk!

Kinder strange to have one sign sayin' "Go Away" and another sayin' "If'n you stick around here's some helpful tips" right next to each other. I reckon it's a differnt type of folks live out here in the wild.

Chastity's Pa is evidently a big ol' strappin' bubba who's not agin takin' the strap to his young'ns as he ain't afraid of takin' a fist to anybody stupid enough to oppose him. Sounds like a right agreeable kind. If'n you's contented bein' silent and agreeable. Otherwise...well, I reckon you know the score on that count.

Laid all over the inside of his cabin is the kind of man toys ol' boys love to set around jawin' 'bout to the oohs and aahhs or yeps and uh huhs, of the bubba crowd. It's a way of bein' lotsa fellers is happy to take up. Like my Pa, ol' Knurl. Yep, he gets hisself to the local where ol' Chilton and the boys are and gets to jawin' up a windstorm of things that get bigger and better with each tellin'. I reckon you might say he's embelleshin' the story. Some might be so bold as to say he's flat out LYIN', but to them we say, "you will be missed" as he takes 'em out of action, meaning livin'. I'm figgerin' he's buried more than one, but he ain't tellin'.

That's his story and he's stickin' to it.

But as to Carter, thatere's Chastity's Pa, don't rightly know much about him exceptin' what I can gather from the stuff around his cabin. Rifles, nets, fishin' poles, moose heads, deer heads, bear heads, stuffed squirrels, possums, a whole dang zoo of critters. It's like Discovery Channel after the discovery, hunt, and kill. Like I say, don't know about him past these things. But Chastity...Well, I'm findin' she's not one to stay silent very long, when she's not fallen off to sleep as she seems to do at the oddest times.

"She's narcoleptic, Rimshank. You know?"

"She's a narc? But I thought she was big on stonin' and stuff."

"No no no. Narcoleptic means sleeping for no apparent reason during the day when most people are typically awake. It's a chronic sleep disorder characterized by excessive daytime sleepiness in which a person experiences extreme fatigue and possibly falls asleep at inappropriate times, such as while at work or at school. You saw evidence of this today in the car when we were racing through the forest. When a narcoleptic falls asleep they generally experience the REM stage of sleep within 10 minutes; whereas most people do not experience REM sleep until after 30 minutes. That means she drops off into dreamland extremely fast."

"Oh. Sorry. I didn't know she's illin'."

"It's not like that," says Chastity, jumping into the conversation Shanise and I are having about her. "It's just I'm a bit sleepy, more so than most. No big."

"She also tends to fall asleep and into bed with whomever she's with causing some PRETTY interesting situations."

Chastity turns red and smiles like she's hidin' some kinder big nasty ass secret in there.

"That is not true, Shanise. Now you take that back. I DO fall asleep sometimes, but I KNOW what I like and I know how to get it!"

"If every time Chastity fell into someone's bed and made nay nay a light bulb burst you'd have to be a bat to fly through Las Vegas at night."

"Trading secrets here girls?"

Melody slips in from a side room she was evidently investigatin' but decided to join in for the Chastity-thon.

"I have never met a girl so inappropriately named," says Melody.

"But you gotta admit, I wear it well."

"So right, so true. You redefine the very MEANING of the word," says Shanise, steppin' back to a drop down bed and pattin' her hand on it. "I say we redefine it a bit more."

Shanise and Chastity link arms with me and start walkin' me toward the "field of redefinition." I'm excited and scared and I'm dang sure my skivvies is once again gonna see the light of day.

"Have fun, children!"

Melody disappears out the door mysterious as always as she leaves her friends to entertain me. More likely, to entertain themselves at my expense.

Shanise plants me down on the bed as Chastity stands in front of us, like we're guests at a titty bar performance, and starts to liftin' her skirt up a bit in front, bendin' over and flashin' her backside, givin' us a very clear view of her thong panties in all their glory. I must say she's nicely put together. Then she gets frizzly and to poppin' out one titty at a time actin' all surprised and stuff and soon enough she's swinigin' her bra over her head finally letting go of it so it launches toward me and hits me in the face. The scent of her bra is excitin' powdery and childlike and somehow this seems so wrong.

"Hmmm," whispers Shanise, runnin' her hand up my leg. "Excited, young man?" She feels around a bit more. "Mmm...looks like Chastity's done her job."

I 'm stunned and my tongue is tied in you're-goin'-to-hell-in-a-flamin'-basket knots.

"Uhm...I-"

"I think I see something growing over there..." says Chastity. "Ummm...did I do THAT?"

What happens next defies my limited understandin' so for sake of all things human and divine I will say only this: WHOA!!

*****

"I'm thinking I like these Piggly Wiggly Special Limited Edition skivvies you seem so fond of sporting. Good things come inside. So what'dya think", says Shanise, pullin' 'em tight around herself and stickin' her butt out at me. "See something you like?"

At this point I can only manage a wore out smile. I'm feelin' like a fox in the hen house. It seems clear to me Melody had at least a small hand, or maybe a BIG hand, in settin' these two girls on me like prize bloodhounds. And you know what? Cain't say's I mind so much. Still, it's a might confusin' to a boy of my limited female things understandin' how they could so shamelessly take up after me and seize me as if doin' nothin' differnt than changin' light bulbs.

It has also hit me that Melody has no interest whatsoever in lettin' me pursue her for reasons best known to herself so instead she's given me her two friends as some kinder consolation prize. Though I do find that a might insultin' to the girls. They have just given their all for god and country on my behalf and maybe this was Melody's master plan. Distract the wolf with sweet tater pie to put him off the prize hen. Now that there's a purty brilliant plan if in fact that is her plan. But I don't reckon ahmoan be satisfied for long with this arrangement when Melody keeps herself close enough to see and smell. Cain't touch her though. Evidently this is not allowed. Still, I feel cheated.

"Well aren't you lookin' like the cat that gobbled my little birdies," says Melody, poppin' back into the cabin like it was planned the whole time. "Good eatin' I trust?"

Now this is uncomfortable. What am I to say to THAT? No Melody, as a matter of fact twarn't good eatin' atall in fact it was downright spoilt. Girls seem to like the power they feel from puttin' a feller on the spot. Especially once they've given up their goodies. 'Ceptin' Melody ain't given up nothin' but her friends meanin' it's them that done the givin'.

"What do YOU think of my new look, Mel? Cool, huh?"

"Gee Shanise, I don't know what to say. You took a guy down and all that's left is his skivvies?"

They start to crackin' up like that there's the greatest joke ever told. For me, settin' unner thesere blankets totally nekkid, it don't sound like nothin' but passin' time to avoid tawkin' 'bout stuff that means somethin'.

I decide to boldly go where no Cord has gone before.

"I was thankin', maybe you'd like to join in for another go round. Mebbe I could-"

"Hold your horses there hillbilly! I am happy you have found something in common with Shanise and Chastity. But the Melody is not in play. She is out of your league."

"What? Who is the Melody?"

"Me, dim wit. Any more questions?"

"Uh, actually lots of them. But I cain't thank to say 'em right yet."

"Well, it doesn't matter anyhow. It's like this, Rimky. We are a serious mismatch, plus the fact that my alleged beau Shiv wants to tear your head off, crush your privates and kill you, not necessarily in that order, is every reason for you to disappear quietly into the world you came from. Got it?"

"If'n you feel THAT way then why...," tears are startin' to well but I won't let 'em roll, "I mean WHY you been draggin' me around wit you'uns? this is what I'm thankin' but I got my mouth duktaped. '.

She smiles pretty as you please in her possum way as if that answers my question. Then, she turns and walks away, leaving a trail of orange scent and daggers stuck in my heart.

This was not at ALL the way I saw this workin' out with me and Melody Genesis, goddess among goddesses. Maybe there just is no place for itty bitty critters like me in her big high falutin' world. I s'pose now I can vanish like smoke and go back to MY world like she says.

Low has never felt as dark and lonely as this. It's all over but the cryin'.

*****

"You in there little stink ball? Daddy's come to KILL YOU!!!!"

My god, my god my god! I'll say a thousand hail Mary's if'n you make this monster go away or send down a big ol' jolt of lightnin' and smite him. Shanise's gone dancin' off wit my skivvies so' s I got nothin' but nothin' 'ceptin thesere sheets. And I don't thank they's gonna hep me. I'm scannin' my eyes left and right in the fading light but I see no one, nowhere, I only hear the loud voice of Shiv booming through and shakin' the walls. Or maybe it's just my knees knockin'.

All this rattlin' goin' on I cain't anymore tell what's what 'ceptin I thank he's rattlin' the door handle and the way it sounds it's about to give and let in a flood of Shiv. Maybe if I burrow down unner the blankets he won't see me and I can not only shiver in fear but snuggle in comfort before I get kilt by Shiv. I must be getting desperate stupid now. This hidin' trick didn't work as a kid I reckon it ain't gonna work now.
The door's startin' to splinter and crack so's I got no choice. I leap into the pile of blankets, sheets and pillows, pull 'em on top of me and squeeze down on my side unnerneath 'em. I know it's desperate stupid but it's all I got. I'm squishin' myself in a tight little ball playin' possum figurin' I'll be harder to grab if it comes to it. Quietly, ever so quietly, I begin whisperin' my last rites and final words 'cause I know this hidin' unner the blankets plan is gonna fail in a big ugly way. I know it. I know-"

CRRRRAAAAAACCCCKKKKK!!!!

"OWWWW!!! FUCK FUCK FUCK! Godammit girl, what the fuck you think you're doin? You fuckin' crazy?"

"Crazy enough. Back off Shiv. Back off. Don't make me whack you with this bat again, dumb ass. I might like it!!"

"Hey, hey now. Calm down. Ain't no need-"

"GET OUTTA HERE NOW OR I'M GONNA BREAK THIS BAT ON YOUR FAT HEAD!!!"

"Okay. Okay. I'm gone...Where's Mel?"

"GIT!!"

The door slams shut, hard, sendin' a cracking and shivering through the cabin. I hear Shanise breathin' hard, fast and hard. Then I hear her drop to the floor and start to whimperin'. She's actually cryin' after standin' down that animal.

Seein' it's safe now that she's finished openin' up a big ol' can of whoop-ass, I sit up and look at her. Yep, she's slumped over on the floor tearin' up like a onion cutter and I feel so grateful and sorry all at once I'm tore up inside just because. I had no idear Shanise had such toughness in her but I mean, here's a girl tough and sweet whut loved me like a wildcat, stole my skivvies, and now just saved my life. I am so gosh darned confused I might join the cryin'.

I'm stuck like in quicksand unable to move. Just lookin' at her on the floor. When she sees me lookin' at her her eyes light up real bright and she starts to chuckle, "Good hiding place you got there. You thought that was gonna work?"

She breaks into a full laughter filled with humor and relief and the thought of lookin' through her eyes and seein' me all wrapped up nekkid in thesere blankets and things like I'm well hid and lookin' for all get out like a dumb ass kid I gotta be the sorriest lookin' moron ever. I start to laughin' too and soon we're laughin' like we've just heard the funniest joke ever. Laughin' at yourself sometimes is a good thing.

My savior, the girl in Special Limited Edition Piggly Wiggly skivvies and Tank Girl t-shirt. I must say I've never seen a more beautiful sight. Sorry Melody.

"So,' she says, wiping her hand across her nose to wipe away the sniffles, "Whaddya wanna do for fun now?"

I look at the serious expression on her face as she asks me this absolutely normal question in this absolutely abnormal situation and I cain't hep but strart to laughin' again. She gets it and starts laughin' too. And soon we're laughin' and cryin' and huggin' and kissin' and I sure as hell don't know nothin' from nothin'.

This has got to be the strangest, coolest, scariest, happiest day of my so far life. Well Cord ol' boy, you've done it this time.

When everybody got 'round to discussin' the Skiv incident the main question was "How the fuck did he know we were here?" To which Chastity said, "HELLOOO! He's like been here before, okay? I mean like where else we gonna go when we go racin' off into the woods. It's a no brainer."

Everybody agreed no brainer had a lot to do with everything that happened. Funny no one even mentioned how Shanise had stood him down. They just went on like this was natural kinder stuff. All made better by slammy girl Shanise McGee. Like Shanise steppin' in to save the day was the same ol' same ol'. Good ol' Knuckles McGee. That there's a big fightin' kinder name to carry.

"You did look kinda cute in them skivs slingin' that bat around. It was like, I don't know, Little Orphan Annie goes rogue," says Chastity.

"Don't forget that, Rimshank," Melody pipes in. "Mess with Shanise and she'll bat slug you!"

"Uh huh."

Trust me on this. I don't plan on messin' with her or anybody. Specially anybody name of Shiv. But Shanise and that there bat is quite a pair. A Dynamic Duo you might say. Without the cool wingback car. She can be on my team anytime!

*****

Mornin' comes blastin' in along with the blastin' that's happenin' all around us. Seems we's here during the Forest Regeneration period and swamp loggers are movin' in in big numbers. Lots of rumblin' bouncin' and slammin' goin' on and not all of it comin' from inside the cabin if'n you catch my meanin'. A big ol' poster had been left on the door alertin' us to this potential happenin' but no one was interested. At the time. Now we's interested as hen hawks on the prowl. But don't matter none. We's stuck here until the crews finish up their work.

Melody says "this is unacceptable" and decides to strut on up to the crew boss and tell him what's what. I don't thank this is goin' as she planned.

"Hey, Boss guy. Listen, I...WE need to get out of here like right now and your trucks and equipment are blocking the roads. Now what I recommend here is-"

"Now hold your giddy up, Girl. Ima gonna tell you where the rubber meets the road here," the foreman says with his grimy sweaty face a itty bit closer to Melody that she'd like. "We's gonna be workin' from dawn to dusk so if'n you folks wanna move out thatere's the time to get the giddy up on. Until then get a load off and set yourselves down a spell to somethin' 'constructive'."

Oh, we was tryin' to leave but was pushed back 'cause the work crews was dominatin' the land and Melody din't like it one iota. Whole place roped off and all so no passage allowed. Melody was flyin' high on her broom droppin' razor pellets on the crew. But it din't matter none. The machines was a runnin' and there was no stoppin' 'em till dusk.

The bad news was delivered quick, but some things lingered a bit longer.

"All I have to say to this is damn it all and EEUW! I hope to tell you you didn't want to see and SMELL what I did when that crew boss's face was up in mine. One of those things you can't unsee. Teeth should be white or some close variation, not BROWN! I swear his ripe as sewer sludge breath was green!"

"Can't we just go North," says Shanise. "I mean, it seems the logging is happening down here so maybe it's not happening further into the forest."

"Brilliant idea! Let's check it out."

Once again the bodacious trio and me is screamin' through the swamplands with Melody floorin' it big time. I don't know if this is the right way to tear through here and I'm fairly certain tearin' through here ain't right atall. But this is her way. Especially when she don't GET her way. Seems to me not givin' Melody her way is an act of war, maybe treason.

So we're scootin', critters are dodgin', all the forest's alive with fear with Melody Genesis turned loose. She's kinder like her own one woman stampede. The animals scatterin' is like them Discovery Channel episodes where they's all fleein' predators. I reckon in a way we's like the biggest most feared predators of all. Drivin' a big ol' wreckin' machine that I am dang certain is reducin' the ground life in record amounts. Not so many fire ants as their used to be now. I thank we may be responsible for extinctin' them.

The windows is open and smoke is streamin' out 'cause Chastity must have her smoke on. Like it's a religious devotion she follows religiously. And of course inside the car is still becomin' more animated as the effects of her chosen weed take hold. Even Melody, normally on the quiet side, is gettin' all yakkety like all get out.

"So what have we learned here, girls? Life deals you funny cards and how you play them's critical to survival. For instance, how 'bout you Shanise, now dubbed Knuckles McGee? You've had your hands full of "stuff" even pulling an impressive smackdown on Shiv with a Louisville Slugger. I think you got HIS attention."

"I just did what needed doing."

"Not just. You also gave you know who here a bit more "FUN" than he counted on. Isn't that right you know who?"

I reckon now she's addressin' me directly instead of tawkin' about me right in front of me so maybe she's expectin' some kinder answer. But this is sensitive subjects here. We's treadin' where even angels fear to tread. And I' ain't so sure Shanise is all up on makin' a big deal of it. Really. The heat of the moment, the passions flared (twice), it's all over but the cryin' on that count and I dang well know it ain't me doin' the cryin'.

Like Melody says, how you play the cards is critical. Well, in my book Shanise is a dang good card player.

I got nothin' to say. "I reckon."

"That's all? Oh come on. I've never seen you so smiley. Seems Shanise gave you a real mood enhancer. And where were you this whole time Chastity?"

"Um...I was doin'...things," says Chastity, turnin' a shade of red I don't thank I ever seen.

"Hey! Lookit that there deer scatterin'," I gotta turn this tawk around. "They are such beautiful critters, ain't they?"

"I think that's a compliment to you Shanise. Chastity I'm not sure."

"Let it go Mel, huh? What's happened's happened. No need to drag it out."

"That's not what you said LAST night, is it?"

Now Shanise settles into a slump seein as her friend's refusin' to let embarassin' matters go by the creek side. Cain't say it's all that comfortable for me neither tawkin' about this. I mean, it's not like I'm 'Haggis full on experience' or nothin'. Up till yesterday I was more the solo flyer.

Yep my world sure tipped upside down and back and now I don't know nothin' from nothin'. Like a nightmare turned dream turned nightmare and back again. So this has been a strange two days no doubt. But there is more than moonshine brewin' here.

Rangers flew over the heavily forested marshlands last year to try to "have a look" at the big ol' beaver damn they say you can see from space. Done found significant vegetation growing on the dam itself suggestin' it's very old. "A new dam would have a lot of fresh sticks," Sheriff Crummers explained. "This one has grasses growing on it and it's very green. Part of the dam may have been created by naturally felled trees, and the beavers filled in the gaps."

So we got tons of forest, tons of marshland, a whole shebingbang o beavers. Now that there's a party waitin' to explode.

I get a feelin' on readin' the signage they got draped around here we may not have any luck gettin' outta here any sooner by "headin' North."

Research and experience have shown that bottomland hardwood stands with less than 20, 40 and 60 square feet per acre of basal area of wood, at ages 20, 30 and 40 years respectively, are potential candidates for a regeneration-type harvest. The information needed for regeneration for each stand includes: 1) condition and size - distribution of the overstory trees for each species, 2) quantity of all understory tree species, 3) amount and type of competing vegetation, and 4) seed crop and seed bed conditions.

Scarification caused by normal logging operations in openings is usually helpful in bottomland hardwood regeneration. As seedlings develop in the openings, they must be released by removing trees in other areas.

I'm thankin' this operation will extend through the whole of Chittle Chattle so our chances of getin' out before dusk ain't lookin' good. But I ain't even THANKIN' of sayin' this to Melody. That girl's a firecracker. Still my heart skips a beat when she's near me. I can hear her sweet honeysuckle voice whisperin' my name through the breeze. So things is purty warm and fuzzy for me now. I'm surrounded by three good lookin' girls and am happy as a pig in slop.

"Hey Rimshank, whatchou smilin' about?" Chastity is suddenly all hopped up. She ain't even puffin'.

"Nothin'. Jus thankin'."

"Now don't be thinking no nasty thoughts," she coos, like she wants me to even though she's sayin' don't.

"Hell no. Wouldn't thank on it."

This is what passes for conversation with these girls. I reckon that means I've been brought into the inner circle of trust.

*****

Memaw din't care much for edumucation as she called it, "I sent one son to war he come back unscathed. Sent another son to that there "college" doohickey he come home in a box. Now I ask ya. Is edumucation a GOOD thing?"

Her argument's purty dang well clear as a Tennessee mornin'. Now I ne'r did meet my uncle Schmell. Reckon that's 'cause he was dead by the time I come 'round. Way I hear it tole he was walkin' in a part of town where hillbilly folk was not much liked. He got into a scuffle, somebody knifed him. That was that. Not for Memaw though. Accordin' to her, McHenry's started a full on war she continued till she passed.

"Never did care a spit for them McHenry's nohow. McHenry, you throw down on my kin you take all us on!!´ You's agin one you's agin ALL!!! Won't so much as look at 'em less'n the good Lord Jesus come down here'n tell me hisself! "

This stuff all happened in Kentucky homestead. Reckon thatere's another reason why Knurl pull up stakes and come futher south. 'Course probly was Memaw pull up stakes and drug his ass futher south. Never can tell with his stories where fact and fiction separate. That makes him a long windin' storyteller in the grand southern tradition. Don't know if'n I got that skill m'self.

But what do I know.

Settin' on the porch atellin' tales is somethin' we done so much in the long ago I plum forgot we useta could do the long and winding never ending road of story.

If'n anybody met Memaw in her "later years" she would appear to have a tough exterior but was still sensitive. That's what I been tole anyhows. I cain't says I agree. She's tough as claw hammers, hell yeah. But she scared the willies outta most dyed in the rum sailors.

Here's a classic Memawism from when I was a young'n and she gave most of the baby rearin', "I know the baby will wake up, somebody will start snoring, the alarm will begin blaring as soon as I finally, finally, finally get to sleep."

Yep, that there's a sensitive sensitive woman, I tell you.

We're all hangin' around the forest now waitin' for a break in the loggin' action so's we can break outta here but so far no chance. As we set about we get to jawin' and seems Melody's got honey bunches of trouble on her mind.

"I wish I'd known how psycho he was. When we met he was all charm and good behavior. The minute he thought he had some kind of claim on me he went bat shit. He's been a nightmare ever since. I'd have somebody beat his ass and send him packing, but nobody around here can do that. So, I'm stuck with him haunting me for now. Everything will change when I scoot off to college."

This is Melody's explanation or maybe exusenation of her relationship with Shiv. Now if'n I believe her friends, she ain't n'er done so much as say hey to him and lead him on to a place they n'er arrive at. Her goody box. So in that way I s'pose you could call him a super huge dumb ass. Girl playin' you for a fool and you come crawlin' 'round for more whoopin'. I cain't say's I feel sorry for him or nothin'. I mean Melody is so fine he'd probly crawl nekkid over ground glass just to see her shadow. Or maybe he already has. Either way, he's a walking tawking death sentence to me so's I steer clear when I can. 'Course, lately, lettin' myself get dragged around by Melody and her tribe I've been lettin' myself be put in harms way by and by so's I reckon thatere makes me a super huge dumb ass too.

Looks like Melody brings out the dumb ass in a feller.

A beautiful drop dead gorgeous girl surrounded by dumb ass fellers. Now that there's a picture for ya. Melody surrounded by a bunch of stank dogs. Reckon I know whut I am in that picture.

I remember back to when ol' Haggis done tole me about my choice of potential girlfriend.

"So whatcha gonna do, big C. I mean, you ain't like gonna go after her or nothing, right? 'cause you KNOW what hurt that'll bring you."

"Well, I tell you, I was kinder hopin' you'd help. But you say he's too much even for you. So that leaves me...yeah, sunk with no paddles."

"Hey now, C. Don't get me wrong on this. Scrappin' with these other problem kids around here who've irked you is small potatoes stuff. Nothin' to it. But Shiv Lynch? He's ex Special Ops Marine and recent guest of the Big House. You know that, right? Prison. A sidewinder like none I've come against before."

"Prison? Are you serious?"

"Hell yeah I'm serious! Before he came back from the service and went down he was just a big dumb ass named Milo with a bad attitude. Since then he's adopted the name Shiv to commemorate his prison time I guess and to get the word out: FEAR ME."

"Milo?"

"Uh huh, Milo."

"Dang Hag. Thatere name'd do it to me. Turn me bad like a sour grape."

So Melody met this feller Milo whut turned into Shiv whut turned into the killer ghost of Chillamore Central. Thatere's a whole lotta sayin'. May as well be named Chip Sensalsa.

Stories like this one remind me of my cousin, Mira. When she was 12, she was forced to marry her 30-year-old cousin, Cletus, and her own Pa threatened to kill her when she fought back and ran away. She said, "While my hair was bein' gussied up for the ceremony, I thought of ways to set fire to my weddin' dress. When I cussed him out and said there was no way I was goin' through with it, my Pa gagged me and tied me up. After the weddin', I tried to kill myself twice." She couldn't get a divorce so she went rogue wild and went on a rampagin' killin' spree. I did get to tawk to her just after she was sent up. She was so shriveled and lonely lookin' I barely recognized her.

"I was aware of what I was doing, and I could not stop myself," she said. "I was in a major rage and pissed off at my whole life and everybody whut had hurt me and blew up and hurt the wrong people."

I'll never forget her story and the way she said "blew up" with such sorrow in her voice.

Memaw of course had her few corn kernels to get in there as she read a sentimental devotional card she liked to quote ever' now n again, "Vice is a monster of such frightful women, that to be hated, needs but to be seen. But seen too oft, familiar with its face, we first endure, then pity, then embrace. I ain't embracin' nothin'! That girl ain't no more kin o mine than dog turd."

*****

I have noticed that Melody has some strange out of time notions about Southern history and experience. While digging through the glove box to find some tissues for her, I find this odd little pamphlet, Raiders and Rebels, that don't make no sense her havin' atall.

Throughout the Southern States, there is a class of slaves who, in most of the towns, are permitted to hire their time from their owners, and who are always expected to pay a high price. This class is the mulatto women, distinguished for their fascinating beauty. The handsomest of these usually pay the greatest amount for their time. Many of these women are the favorites of men of property and standing, who furnish them with the means of compensating their owners, and not a few are dressed in the most extravagant manner.

When we take into consideration the fact that no safeguard is thrown around virtue, and no inducement held out to slave-women to be pure and chaste, we will not be surprised when told that immorality and vice pervade the cities and towns of the South to an extent unknown in the Northern States. Indeed, many of the slave-women have no higher aspiration than that of becoming the finely-dressed mistress of some white man.

Like I said, strange. Looks like we's stuck here for a stretch 'cause forest's all blocked off. Melody gets to tawkin'about spooky things and ghosts and stuff and says they's an old cottage out in the hollers that s posed to have witches and trolls and haunted and what not. I don't know if I like this new direction, this journey into who knows where it's goin'.

"Hey. D'you thank it's a good idear to stir up whatever creepy things is layin' still? It's a let sleepin' dogs lay kinder thang."

"Looks like somebody's scared chicken shit. Maybe we shouldn't go there, Mel."

But Shanise had no sooner spoke the words than Melody began driftin' out futher into the forest depths and got to gunnin' it when haunted houses was mentioned. Don't much matter if'n I want to go or not. I'ma goin'.

"Visitors to Tiggum Drive have always said the house looks haunted. The gutters have fallen down, and the fascia board is rotten and black with mold. Junk crowds the front porch: like a discarded air-conditioning unit, rolls of stained carpet, a mail carton left to rot in the weather. Sounds left alone by humans anyway. "But ghosts don't care much for neat and clean," says Chastity, proud of herself for possessing such knowledge of the afterlife world.

"Maybe we should just let 'em be. I mean-"

"Don't worry, Cord. We'll cuddle close to ya."

They's babyin' me and I cain't rightly say I mind it much. Still, haunted places give me the heebie jeebies.

I thank where this place is it's called "off the grid." It's stuffed so far back and down in the deep and dark it don't look like it's seen light in centuries. Way back here in this holler at the forest edge it's hard to imagine that somebody ain't come across it. Besides us I mean. I'm just hopin' whatever creepy things mighta been here is gone now 'cause somebody done carted 'em away.

It's the only two-story house in the thickets, and it's the only one with knee-high grass and the shorn trunk of a dead tree in front. The air clings and tugs of dyin' things.

The door creaks open to a chaotic scene. A pile of debris is clumped in the middle of the room, and boxes stand stacked against the walls. Paintings done in various styles are scattered everywhere. Shanise reaches for something on top of the pile. It is a large drawing of a frighteningly familiar scene. Crumpled men crowd a shadowy area under an overpass. Some look insane; others hold liquor bottles. Under a sign that says White Tower Hamburger stands a woman, the only one in the picture. She is wearing a dress, a pillbox hat, and high heels. The drawing is signed Luther Cummings 1962 in the lower right corner.

"You think his ghost is still here, haunting his old house and guarding his paintings?"

"You're creepin' me out, Shanise."

"It's just so cool. Like we walked back in time through a time portal."

"I thank we should walk forward in time and out through that front door," I say to no one.

"Oh come on now. You guys tellin' me-"

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

A wailin' screech tears through the house, the walls crumble, the floor quakes, and we's all runnin' for the front door like we got firecrackers on our tails. Didn't need no second warnin'.

We're movin' like a mass of chickens and racin' for the car and as we dive into the car fast as we can, I feel strong ghost hands grabbin' at my shirt and pullin' me back toward the house. My eyes go wide in terror and I begin to scream. But the girls start to screamin' too. Only somethin' differnt.

"You let go of him Shiv!"

"Your ghost thingy was very funny."

"But this chasin' us shit's gotta stop!"

"Oh it'll stop just fine after I whoop ol' skivvy boy good and proper."

My ears go plugged up deaf, my face gets to crackin', all things at once as his fist slams into my face. I fall to the ground and roll around holding my face. Moaning like a trapped wolf. My hands come away with oozy sticky stuff that I know is my blood.

"You back off, Shiv. Don't MAKE me come over there!"

Shiv gets to shiverin' and laughin' so hard I thank we's all just havin' a whompin' good party after the smackdown whoopin'. If we was in Australia it would be the sound of the Kookaburra laughing. But that ain't what's happenin'. He's laughin' at Shanise.

"Don't got no bat now, do ya girl? Ain't so tough. Yeah well, that's too damn-"

CCCCCRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCKKKK!!!!

"#@*&^%^$ Shanise, you skank ho-"

Them's the only words I hear as I'm hoisted away into the car and we speed off. Seems Shanise did not have a bat, this is true. But the girl's got an arm for throwin' rocks like you cain't believe and she's got a deadly aim!

Reckon Shiv shoulda paid more attention to Knuckles McGee.

Nurse Shanise is right on top of gettin' me some wet compresses for my nose and mouth. No tellin' WHAT she'll pull outta that back seat. Like a magician's bag full of wonderments. I'm bleeedin' purty good and hurts like I took a hail Mary pass to the face. The face of Cord Rimshank is permanently changed from this sichyation. I'll carry my war wounds proudly. As if I have so many other appealing choices.

There are many things out here in this forest you wouldn't see most anywheres else. Unusual wildlife, insects, plants. There's a whole shitload of tree varieties out here in this swampland forest. Cottonwood, sycamore, sweetgum, sweet pecan, green ash, cherrybark oak, Nuttall oak, willow oak, white oak, cow oak, black walnut, yellow-poplar and bald cypress. Also the odd appearance of a general store as if it's the most natural thang in the world out in the middle of nowhere close to home.

An old boy is settin' out by the door on a deformed bucket, whittlin' away on a skinny piece of cottonwood branch.

Shanise sees this and gets all excited.

"I gotta see if he knows about this Luther Cummings guy."

Cain't stop Shanise, cain't stop Shanise, cain't stop her most always but specially now since she done whomped Shiv on the forehead with a monster stone and she's all pumped up like a water rocket.

Her questions are slow and easy as if going at it in this way assures her success. But the old man is slow to answer. "I knew Luther Cummings when I done lived near his cottage," he says. "I used to see him sketching by the stream, and I visited him at his studio and watched him work. He was a weird guy, but we got on well."

"Ooh. Was he famous?"

"Famous? He was the greatest thang in these parts since sliced bread!"

Shanise thanks him and strolls smoothly away, hands tucked deep in pockets, kickin' at stones as she scoots. The old boy bleary eyeballs her and says, "You ain't from around here, are ya?"

"What the what?""

"And what's wrong with that slumpy boy's face? Looks all hammered on."

I hang my head and turn away as a long drop of blood swings from my mouth and falls into the dust. Didn't make no points with that feller so it was time to cut out quick afore he sicked his mangy hound dogs on us. Probly worried about catching some kinder nasty disease from us too.

Remember what Yoda says to Luke Skywalker in Star Wars: "Do or do not-there is no try."

Leave it to Melody to find a way out of tight weave net. She does, we's on the move, and soon enough we're screamin' down the highway headin' for who knows where. Seems like I've been in thisere car forever. First I'ma settin' at home. Then I'm roped and wrangled. Then tossed into the car (minutes away from Shiv's killin' hands). And now after a most momentous evenin' almost become my LAST evenin', we scooted, visited a haunted cottage, and we've escaped the clutches of the evil swamp loggers whut was holdin' us prisoner in the deep dark forest.

Sums it up. Still, don't know where we's headed. Reckon Melody has at least some idear.

"I have no idea where we're going but I'm happy to go there. Beats hanging around waiting for mister happy Shiv to drop in for another ghostly visit. Besides, I don't think your bleeding nose could use any more fist action."

"Tfvue...," I manage through my tore up mouth that feels hangin' all loose.

"Teeth too. Don't bleed on my seats, puggly wuggly."

"Hmm, time for some bam bam," says Chastity, ever eager to jump into the stone zone.

I've taken a gator hard hit to the face and I'm feelin' so tore up I'm thankin' a little bam bam might suit me fine. Chastity, aware of my newfound limitations, suggests she cup her hands and blow smoke into my mouth to save me puffing. I thank she just don't want my blood on her hand rolled baby j.

Her choice is right on the top shelf and I'm takin' in clouds of tingling sensations. In no time atall I'm way past could nine and sailing to cloud fifteen. It's warm and cozy and dreamy and green. It'sere I find lingering memories of grandpa Lim.

...heart skipped a beat as I heard grandpa open the creaky wooden door at the crack of dawn, two fishing poles geared up in one weathered hand.

Things is all fuzzy and soft around the edges. I'm surrounded by girls whut is the same, 'ceptin they's all squishy and giggly too. Grandpa Lim's slippin' into the background. Lights are flashin' and racin' at me like lightnin' bugs. My world is crawfish layerd. Chastity's touchin' my leg givin' me the tinglies. If god took me right now I'd die a happy boy.

Kids do not try this at home.

AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH

*****

Sunday 10:25 am

And the TV's blarin' in the background. Sometimes the things you like take on a evil sound. Hissin' and gruntin'. Kinder hurtin' my ears.

Laid out like landed Cod is no happy place for happy folks. It's recoverin' plain and simple. House smells old and dyin' after bein' away. I thank I'm maybe addin' to that stank.

Or maybe I AM that stank.

Glad to be alone. Soundless finally but for the wind and rustlin' leaves. In silence the air feels heavy and sincere. It's a lovin' feeling. And peace comes with it. My best thankin' done in the sounds of silence. Today that's an added bonus. My time is tick tockin' and soon tomorrow will be upon me startin' a new day in the field of fear as the campus calls us in. Cain't say I'ma likin' these thoughts. I'm floatin' away in a stream of...

Co-Cola??!! My head snaps backward and I slap my head against the headrest panickin' 'cause the soda Chastity gave me evidently exploded in my lap so now I'm sopped and drippin' and look the trash drunk.

"You cheese ball, you cheese ball, you gumly cheese ball!!!!!"

Melody's helping me by callin' me curdled milk products and if she means to crush me it's workin'. There's so little left of me what's the point anyways. Go right on ahead if'n it suits you. I'm your idiot Quasimodo. Puggly Wuggly.

Shanise's over the seat dumpin' wads of paper towels and sorry state clothes shreds on me. I'm drownin' in stuff and clompin' it up one sponge at a time. Melody drives and glares at me lettin' me know I'm in her crosshairs. Everybody in the car's lookin' at me and Melody and no one's lookin' at the road. Life never stops bein' wild.

"THE TRUCK!!! WATCH OUT FOR THE TR-AAAIIIIIIEEEEE"

SSSCCCCCCCCCCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCHHHHH

We pitch right fishtail and narrowly miss the fist shakin' clearly cussin' us to hell trucker as he zooms past. We's in HIS crosshairs now. I'm thankin' that mebbe it's time for somebody else to take the drivin' chores and give Melody a rest for our continued health. Mostly, I'm just wishin' somebody will take the wild girl away from the wheel.

I decide to do it myself and lunge at the wheel and grab it like a drownin' man and steer us off the highway while Melody is cussin' and whompin' on me and workin' the peddles like a NASCAR pro.

That's what I'd be doin' if I warn't tore up and pigeon livered. I'm crunched against the door screwed in for the swamp man's rodeo. The backseat is chatterin' away but we're probably too wore out and fear shocked for our feet to leave the ground in joy that we missed the truck. Missed our death. I'm happy and all but jumpin' ain't on my list of things to do. I'm content to stay squished against the door with one hand on the ceiling strap and away from wild girl.

I do sometimes thank she means to kill us all.

She gets to yammerin' how "Gumly Gumly is a suburb of the city of Wagga Wagga in New South Wales, Australia and is somewheres near the Sturt Highway." She likes knowin' odd and barely known things, Melody. 'N I thought she was makin' fun of my new mouth/gum arrangement. Probly still is anyhow.

I s'pose I rates life unique. What I don't know I don't wanna know 'cause it ain't worth knowin'. There's thems don't agree wit this. Fug em.

Glad thisere's a three day weekend 'cause I cain't bear to see folk in my new unimproved condition with my lips all bleedin' and swole and my nose takin' a hard left to places unknown.. Reckon I look like a boxer now. One whut lost real bad. Don't thank I'll be goin' into boxin' or any other contact sport real soon. I can rightly say it don't suit me.

If I was cut out for it I'd be a gingerbread boy cookie with a broke nose. I'll bet even them cookie critters have their problems with broke parts. Never even seen one squabblin'. 'Course I usually see them on the way into somebody's mouth. Man I could use me a gingerbread cookie or three right about now if'n my mouth was workin' proper. Alls I can do is thank on 'em and keep them in my good eatin' dream box.

"So, where we headed, Mel? It's a beautiful day to be outside. Except when it involves running into Shiv. That's never good."

"I was thinking we go back to where this party began."

When she pulls up to my house by and by it is then, and only then, that I catch up with her on this "where this party began" stuff. She was meanin' MY house. And I ain't sure I like the sound of this.

"Haey yufn wlkh prdum..."

I'm wavin' my hands away from the house trying to get the message across seein' as my mouth ain't cooperatin'. But not a one of 'em is listenin' to me. The good old tribe is only good ol' for themselves and Melody. Not me. I'm the intruder. Ain't that a dang shame.

Once more Rimshank is chewed up spit out and stomped into the dust. Thisere's gettin' to be a bad bad really bad habit. I stand in front of the door to block the way but Melody just strolls right through me as if I ain't there. Maybe I ain't and I'm the last one to know it. Wouldn't surprise me none. Kinder feels like bidnis as usual.

The insides is at least in good order just like I left them. Seems Pa is taking an extended time away with his "friend" so the place is empty. For now. I cain't help feelin' it ain't gonna last.

Shanise and Chastity are already scavenging the kitchen lookin' for liquor as if they need it. And sure enough they find Pa's special Kentucky bourbon stash that's sure to put big hand marks on my hide if'n word gets out. I reach into their midst grab the bottle and shake my head no, no, no, but Chastity don't like this answer.

"Cmon, Cord. You KNOW I gotta have the good stuff to DO stuff. It's like-"

"Chastity you'll DO stuff with plain old water. Not even Perrier I'm talkin'," says Shanise in her moment of glory.

Melody and Shanise high five over that one 'cause they know Chastity maybe better than she knows herself. I don't right care about knowin' or not knowin' anybody anyway. I just care big time about keepin' what's property of Knurl Rimshank out the hands of thieves, no matter how cute those thieves may be.

"Can't get no more today being Sunday. It's like this or nothing!" whines Chastity, puttin' the baby bass lip and golden retriever eyes on me.

"I feew yer tane fut I cain doit coza my Ta."

"I think he's saying NO Chastity."

"Well I don't care. We must have the juice if we gonna bust loose."

Out voted and ruled out in my own house. This is definitely a tragic turn of things.

Yet again I find myself thrown into the front row of my life as my life is lived for me by the tribe tribe, draggin' me behind for the ride. You dang well know it. I'ma feelin like ol' Huckleberry Hound 'cuza my tragic luck with girls. In general. ONE in particular. A chorus of Clementine anybody?

Melody hunts down and seizes the stereo and soon the room explodes in crackly staticky sound. Full of news:

Two peacocks strutting their stuff have motorists on alert in Fairfield Township Ohio. Attempts at catching them have been unsuccessful. Police Chief. Johnston says that if motorists come across a peacock in the road, it's better to hit the bird than swerve into another car or a pedestrian.

Sounds like a good ol' boy to me. You cain't catch 'em, shoot 'em!

"Music! Music! Need music here."

Shanise rushes to her rescue and in a kiss and a spit the smooth girl sounds of music that ain't rock or heavy metal crowd the air space. Sitting in the front row of my life I can see the feller playin' ME is doin' nothin' but reportin' to you'uns on what he's not doin'. Sounds right long way round to me.

Better to bring you'uns into the front row.

SSSSSSSSSMMMMMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKK!!!!

There's your hello kiss. Back to the story.

The girls get right to the party and first start movin' then start groovin' to the "oh I just LOVE these guys!" sounds of Cinnamon Biscuit. Last week they were high on Jelly Moon. But this week, no more jelly, time for biscuits. They just like these fellers 'cause they's locals. If'n they make the BIG TIME the girls can have stories growing larger minute by minute about how they knew the guys way back before they was famous. In small places you gotta look for larger than life things to give you purpose. Sounds all bigheaded but it ain't. You find that somethin' that locks you in, you're a far sight better off than you was before. Not so much slippin' off the rails.

And wouldn't you know it slippin' off comes live and in your face on the center stage as the girls start huggin', grindin', and peelin' off clothes. Not nekkid gettin'. Just playin' and dancin'. My own private titty bar performance. The action here is more about the grindin' and touchy touchin'. I'm sure I'm settin' there with my mouth hangin' open and limp with maybe a string of blood beginnin' to gather lip side. Disgustin' but most likely true.

So I'm the local dumb ass actin' true to form settin' starin' with my mouth hangin' open wonderin' not about much 'cause I reckon I'm stunned stupid. They are captivatin'.

Suddenly I go flashing back to two days ago when I was pulled into the party I was supposed to have the next night, and I realize that what I'm witnessin' now, what is happenin' before my virgin eyes is the very picture perfect exact thang I wanted to happen. Me, Her, Them, all alonelike for whatever may come. Yep. I'm livin' in the past while livin' in the present. Must be the drugs, I tell you. Thisere very unusual flashback stuff I ain't sure I much care for. But it ain't my call nohow. I'm just a visitor here.

"I'm a bit stickly. Hey, Puggly. Where's the shower?"

I hear voices. Sweet shrill voices in the far far far background. I'm lost in the dreamzone of three girls dancin' and grindin' and bobbin' and plungin' and I'm just so-"

"HEY RIMSHANK!!!"

SNAAAP! I'm back. Melody's in my face demadin' something. Demandin'-"

"Showers? The showers?? You DO have some, right?"

Thank she's confusin' my house with the school. We don't have "showers" we have one which mostly works less'n it's all brownish runnin'. Then it's workin' differnt. Not so helpful as always. Gooey and sticky and gross. So sometimes the hygiene parts of life ain't what they could should would be. It's them times we dodge.

But I ain't gonna share these details with her.

"Ry ussares n tudl ef."

She crinkles her nose at me like "What?" then sees my hand wavin' and gets the picture. Right now I got some pictures of my own. Melody Genesis. Gettin' nekkid and showerin' at ol' Cord Rimshank's babe magnet shack. Maybe I got some kinder magic after all.

*****

"Towels. Need some towels up here, towel boy."

"Uh, YEAAH. Bring three. Three big ones."

"Oh my God. BIG ONES?"

Gigglin', gigglin', giglin's all I hear 'cause it seems all three girls are communin' in the shower and wouldncha know it they's gone innere without first GETTIN' towels. Was Melody asked me for the showers and I took it she was goin' solo. Now I learn it's a dang nekkid party and I'm the only one not invited. 'Ceptin' as Towel Boy that is.

I go about my duties with extreme lovin' care knowin' full well that the towels I'ma touchin' right now will soon be touchin' parts I ain't never seen but in my dreams. Shanise and Chastity, well I reckon they've been seen by me in all their god given glory in a haze of drug stupor and dim lightin'. I remember but only like it was a dream. And in a way it was. But now, at the doorstep of greatness, my knees get to shakin' like a willow tree as I thank on what I'm about to witness. Melody Genesis. THE Melody Genesis. In nothin' but nothin' and I'm ashamed to admit I'm scared.

This is the point where bein' dragged around by my nethers by that twenty horse team is about to pay off HUGE! I'm scared and kinder sad too. Once I've seen ain't no mystery to chasin' no more. Okay, it's only just seein'. But thisere's been a dream of mine for so long I cain't see its beginnin'. Seems it's always been part of me. And here I am chatterin' and chitterin' and losin' my grip on all things real 'cause I've crossed into an alternate universe where Cord Rimshank actually GETS what he wants. Well hot biscuits and a nanner puddin' I thank ahmoan explode in joy like a dang ol' HhangernadeH.

Time to get me some Co-Cola afore I sweat myself outta breath. Them giggly wigglies is gonna hafta allow themselves a short set still while I get myself ready for the big moment.

"We're still WAITING Towel Boy!! I"D GET MOVING IF I WERE YOU!!!"

Barn door's busted open and the fillies is turned loose. Gotta roll.

Upstairs they's all huddled together in the corner of the shower hidin' behind the curtains. Melody is furthest back peekin' out over Shanise's head. Chastity is doin' somethin' to Melody that's got her hoppin' and jigglin' so's I'm guessin' she's bein' goosed by Chastity. How these girls get on I've no earthly clue.

Got the towels all stacked in my hands and I'm standin' there in the front row with a dumb ass mouth hangin' open thang happenin' cuz three sets of eyes is starin' at me with visible questions floatin' overhead sayin', "You just gonna stand there and drool?"

That's what I'm thankin'. Meanwhile, things is progressin' on they own.

"You gonna just stand there and drool, towel boy? Give up the towels please."

Well, she said please. Got that goin' for me. Shanise reaches out from the nestle of curtains and swipes the stack of towels handin' 'em back to Melody and Chastity. This is where things take an unexpected turn.

Chastity strolls out, towel in hand, shimmyin' and shakin' and performin' her bonafide titty bar dance once more for me alone. Shanise watches her from the curtain bundle, rollin' her eyes, then steps on out herself, towel in hand at first, afore she whips it around herself real purty like coverin' up all her goodies.

"Too many sweets spoils the appetite," she cautions, smilin' sweet as you please.

Finally, the star appearance as Melody steps from the curtains in reverse, whippin' the towel around her goodies afore she turns around. Alls I get for my troubles is her legs and shoulders with a brief shot of her backside. Reckon that's gonna hafta do.

"Don't look so disappointed, towel boy. You didn't think I was gonna come at you all full on, didja?"

My head shakes no but my eyes are glowin' yes, yes, yes!

"I thought so. Bein' near me's brought enough trouble your way. Don't need to be adding fuel to this fire."

"Bu ay wuwvo gud far."

"Whatever. You get what you get and it ain't gonna be much."

Shut down once again. So beautiful, so cruel, so right. And right then, at exactly that moment when the train of redemption is leavin' the station, I find I have a friend in Shanise as she grabs Melody's towel and whisks it away leavin' her in all her god given.

I am abso-fuggin-lutely filled to the brim. My cup runneth over. My britches spring a leak.

Melody screams, turns around and slaps Shanise's hand, and takes back her towel which she drapes around herself directly. She turns back toward me pretty as you please, fully covered up. Three sets of eyeballs immejitly is trained on the growin' spot on my britches and the smiles that come along for this ride are devilishly dangerous.

"Looks like he gave at the door, Mel. You're clear."

"Oh...like what were YOU thinking was happening here, Shanise?"

"Nothing. I'm just sayin' he's done for fun."

"Well, anymore FUN is Chastity's department. I'm closed for business."

Chastity starts to gigglin' and blushin' so deep red it's almost eggplant.

Melody's crinklin' her nose makin' a 'what's that smell" face.

"Uhm...fun is done for ALL. Say hello to the Minute Man."

"You mean he didn't just wet his...I mean I THOUGHT he might be packin' when he came in," says Shanise, shakin' her head. "That answers the question."

"Yep, the one shot wonder. A short but wilting career."

"For one minute at least," adds Melody, turnin' tail and headin' for the door. "You might want to get that...uh, problem looked at," she whispers to me, loud enough so everybody can hear. "I mean really!"

And off she struts pretty as you please, outta my dream world forever.

"Should I be insulted?" quips Shanise. "For me it takes a strip show and lots of touchy feely. For her Old Faithful can't wait to roar!"

"I'm forry. Didwean nofense. I -"

"Didn't, wouldn't, couldn't, but did. I thought there mighta been..." she murmurs and drifts off to another place where these unsightly things don't happen. "Forget it. What can come of us now, C?"

"I...I..."

"Me too." And off she struts to join the other hen. Chastity stands firm with her...uh, with her amazin' firmness, smiles shyly and says, "It's all good. We're still friends, right?"

Din't expect that. I manage a teeny weeny smile and shrug my shoulders as if this answers everything. Chastity starts to battin' her eyelashes at me like she's fixin' to take flight then gets a huge solar smile goin' to light up this dark and gloomy world.

"Tell you what. You go take car of your...uh...clothing needs, and meet me downstairs so we can roll a stonie and chat the chat, kay?"

She is so effortless and smooth like she's the universal feel-good ship. There's something in her way that makes it difficult to say no.

"Uh, kay-o."

"Cool. See ya!"

And off she jiggles, happy as a clam at high tide, bringin' joy and peace wherever it may be needed. I could say I thank I love her but I'm confused enough already so I won't.

Yet.

Puffin' and jawin' and schemin' and dreamin'. My time with Chastity is an experience where she learns me good 'bout the mysteries of the female species. Tellin' me thangs to whip my eyelids wide open like drawin' shades that ain't been drawn in a coon's age.

"Now, Shanise, she's a funny one. Acts all untouchable and unattainable, Miss Cool Cannoli, but she's human like the rest of us girls. She told me she liked you and I said sure, I like him too, and she said no, I like him like him. Caught me totally by surprise and that kind of stuff I'm usually the first one to know. Guess you learn something new every day."

The first sound is just a creepin' outta of my mouth and Chastity puts her hand up, tellin' me "stop" then hands me a pad and pen. "I know it's difficult what with your face all busted up to talk. So I recommend you write whatever you wanna say right here and show me. kay? Cool idea, huh?"

What I want to say right now might not be considered neighborly so I take her kindly given advice and take to scriptin' my words.

Scribble, Scrawl. Scribble Scribble

"Likes me likes me?"

"Yep."

Scribble.

"Whoa."

"My words exactly. And Melody? Something wrong with her. She's like a zoological experiment. We're not locked out of her world, she's caged in. It sucks to be her. Everything has to happen for her best of the best or she gets hell from her 'rents. And all the worst guys with the worst habits and personality profiles are drawn to her like hornets to humans. It's really sick. She's had to develop a super tough hide to put up with it."

Scrible, Scrawl. Pen slips pick it up keep goin'

"The.. curse of beauty?"

"You said it, bubba."

We are connectin' on so many levels feels like I never done spoke to no one never. I mean she's tellin' me thangs that unlock so many mysteries I'm about to explode from learnin'. D'ja ever feel like that? Like you's gonna explode from too much information overload? Well, then you catch my meanin'. And I s'pose I'm one of those worst guys with the worst habits and personality profiles. Suddenly I got a clearer picture of whut I am than I ever had before.

Stayin' away from Melody's probly the best thang I could do for her. If'n I was a selfless kinder sort. But that ain't me. I want what I want and I aim to get it. Even if it kills me. That's where Shiv comes in.

He'll gladly do the killin' part. With a big ol' goofy smile on his face.

And I do gotta say that seein' Melody in her nekkid naturalness hit me square in the gut like a gorilla size fist, knockin' the wind out me and sendin' me up to cloud nine. Still up there now. Her beauty in her radiant nekkidness was unlike anything I'd ever seen. If I didn't know what perfection in the female form was I'd know that I had just seen a top shelf example with the unveiling of Melody.

We are given so few moments where we know we just KNOW we've touched greatness. And I cain't say as I touched it but I was kissin' close and breathin' it in. Then she strutted out of the room and it felt like she walked out of my world forever. This I cain't accept. Maybe I'm turnin' all Shiv gotta-have-you-gotta-have-you-no-matter-what on her. I can see how that kinder feelin' can just come on you and next thang you know you're neck deep in the swamp and the gators is circlin'. No chance of escape. And nobody, I mean NOBODY nowhere tuggin' around a spare rope to pitch in. In fact, if anybody had a rope that would be Melody and she'd be the last one thankin' on throwin' it in to the persons who's aggravatin' her grief. I reckon in that case she's sidin' with the gators. Maybe even placin' side bets agin me. Love is an ugly, ugly, ugly bidnis in the wrong hands.

Kids do not try this at home.

*****

I reckon you might say Melody's a killer tomato but she's' MY killer tomato. It is a sickness I learn to endure by and by. Just by bein' whut she is naturally and with no special effects, she is the enabler while I am the addict. An enabler whut is the source of my addiction. It's a vicious circle.

I have found in my short years one simple truth; love first sucks then it blows.

Now Haggis tells me that at a certain point love sucks and blows at the same time. He'd be the one to know. Ceptin' I'm never sure if he's tawkin' or jawkin'.

Getting' to thankin' on the forest scene and comin' to some kinder unnerstannin'. We was down swamp Shiv was on us, we was mid swamp Shiv was on us. We cut out for up swamp and suddenly I ain't feelin so safe. Creepin' up all sidewinder style, it hits me that dumb ass is on the move. I earned the right to call him dumb ass acause of him drawin' first blood. So I am advised to take cover.

Knurl ain't showed yet from his weekend with a friend so's for a time I'm still man of the house with a truckload of girls. I could get used to thisere bidnis. Hangin' out gettin' a buzz on and takin' breaks by and by for a quick shower scene with the girls. Now thateres a party!

I still shake my head at Melody's dangerous habit of thanking she's invincible, a habit that by and by keeps getting her into trouble. She's a child playin' house and havin' dangerous tea parties with her crazy doll friends.

But I got bigger fish to fry. Life was gettin' right uncool on its own without no hep from no one, no way, nohow. Then you throw ol' Knurl Rimshank into the mix and a whole new order of whoopin' comes down.

"House smells funky, son. Why is that?"

"Uhm...I-"

"I know I done tole you once, when I ask you what's goin' on you's to tell me straight away with no fidgetin' for facts. I know the smell of wacky backy when I smells it and I'ma smellin' it now. Why is that?"

"Reckon they was some of that goin' on out the porch way. Musta drifted in. Had me some friends over and-"

"You let 'em run ripshod over ya. Disappointin' to say the least. Any damages around here you wanna fess up to now? If'n you don't and I come across 'em on my ownsome I ain't gonna be no happy hunter."

My mind is reelin' up like 40 lb test line and I cain't thank of nothin' broke or tore up or anything but I'm so confused with Pa sneakin' in like he done I'm thankin' gonna mess up huge!

"No, sir. Nothin' come to mind."

"Hmm. So then thesere wet towels I found all wadded up in the corner of the crapper ain't no thang atall, right? Either you had a whole mess of dirty sombitches here or you're becomin' a boy with strange hygiene habits."

"Just me I guess."

"Hmm. Interestin'. Do like your choice of perfume I'm scentin' on thesere towels. Goin' fag on me boy?"

"Uh...uh..."

"What we have here is failure to communicate. If you brought a woman here praise Jesus hallelujah! If'n you gone fag, well you's goin' to Hell in your own leaky boat."

"Sorry, sir. Slipped my mind. Yes, I had a woman here. Three women in fact and they was all-"

"Fine, I hope. Dang boy! I mighta misjudged you. Three women at once! Reckon you got more than a small slice of the old man in ya.

He's gettin' so hopped up excited I ain't even gonna thank of sharin' the details of how them "women" was bein' in here. Ain't gonna tell him they was roamin' nekkid through the house though I'm guessin' he's figgered that for himself what with the wet towels and such. Knowin' Knurl like I do, me tellin' him details like that will have him skulking around me lookin' for woman sign, seein' as he got their scent. Yep, he's a hunter awight. A real good ol' boy from way back. Good beer. Good lookin' women. Good rifle. Good hound dog. Still needs the hound dog to join the club. Don't got one, won't get one.

The whole time he's settlin' in after coming home, his new "friend," Maylene, is tappin' her feet all nervous like and studyin' her fingernails. Must be related to Melody. And the most strangest part of this whole "new friend" bidnis, she don't look no older than girls at Chillamore. Does he know how creepy that is? My family tree might be goin' straight up from Bammer!

I'ma thankin' ol' Knurl is travelin' the deep deep funky parts of town where the booger man hides. I don't know so's I cain't right say but Maylene don't look street legal if'n you catch my meanin' and I'm hopin' he's just carryin' her somewheres as a favor or somethin'. Anything else I don't wanna thank about.

Three day hallelujah weekend behind me I get back to the weird weird and getting' weirder school bidnis as I walk around pretendin' to not be interested in Melody, Chastity and Shanise, and just goin' bout my day to day. Cept seems I don't know what my day to day is anymore. Three days off in a wild Melody and Friends universe and the topsy turvy world done bounced me on my head and spun me like a crazy top. Thangs is spinnin' and don't know where they's gonna stop. Though it seems my eyes is seein' weird thangs I cain't tell if they's really happenin' or happenin' only in my spinnin' top head.

By the lockers I see Hargis tawkin' with his football crew when Melody walks by, waves, then stops. All conversation suddenly turns to flirting with Melody-cain't say as I blame them-and she's hangin' around longer than I ever seen her do ceptin when it's with her tribe. I feel like I'm at home on my sunken couch watchin' this on the TV. Cept the version I'm watchin' seems more like a gooey love story-which I hate-and I must say it's getttin' a might uncomfortable in here and it ain't just my skivs bein' too tight. I'm stuck watchin' with my mouth hangin' open catchin' horseflies probly droolin' for all I know when Shanise comes right up to me, breakin' social protocol, and says, "Hey, southern man. How's things in Cord world?"

I snap to and close my mouth. "Uh, I uh..."

"The questions get tougher as we go along. See ya later?"

"I s'pose, but where-"

"I'll let you know. Bye!"

And off she goes into the marshlands of upside down world Chillamore Central. Now I'm sure I ain't never waked up today.

And this ain't gone do me a dang bit of nuthin' when I'm locked into Mr. Penskee's Geography class. Ain't he the peach. The wild kingdom of Chillamore knows him as Penis.

cause of his bald head. Does kinder fit.

Kids is lookin' weird at me like I'm a porcupine whut just come in. Taylor Cosgrove's tawkin' with Milly Larkin and that ain't never happened since that time three year ago. But that's another story. Seems everbody's chatterin on somethin' and every now and again lookin' or gigglin' or eyeball rollin' toward. I done landed on another planet whut looks like my planet but is a FAKE my planet as my top head spins round.

Now Marly Stevens is makin' eyes at me and I gotta duck out for sick and command the restroom. Maybe I never did leave Fire Island and bits of me are floating around in three girl's stomachs and those bit are havin' nightmares which is where I bein' in this FAKE my school comes in.

Mr. Penis waves me off as I raise hands to make a case for cuttin' out, "In a moment, please!" so's I reckon it's mine to tough it out. Look at the desk as much as possible. Try to stop the voice in my head sayin', "Hey bud. Lets party!" I look at the floor and notice my shoelace is untied. They's somethin to put me to. I can DO this and focus on the real.

A different world from the bottom up, I tell you. Looks like Chicken Leg Swamp. While I'm down here I notice some funny knee jive goin' on toward my left and I'm tyin' my shoelace in knots. Ain't goin' well here so I'm gonna quit it.

RRRRRRRRRRINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGG!!!

Lunch bell chimes not a minute too soon and it's fine by me 'cause this morning has been way too weird for the first day back after three days in Wild Kingdom. Gotta cut out to the lunchroom grab some chow and find a corner. Best way yet. I'm shufflin' along with the kids streaming through the halls and ever now and then somebody says, "Hey Cord!" or "Yo Rimshank" and I smile nice and sometimes wave but I'm feelin' like a camera must be followin' me around 'cause these people would not be sayin' nothin' to me, NEVER. Yet they do and keep right up doin'it. For cryin' out loud, are you serious?

I tear off into the lunchroom slide into line and check out one two three. Heading quick for my favorite corner which seems to be "EMPTY!" so's I'm rushin' right over to claim it when I slam into Shanise who done stepped right in front of me.

"Hey, C. We eat here. Sit."

My eyes are scared wide open 'cause this is not the way thangs is done round here. But somethin' has changed in a big way and it hits me this may not be to my best interests. I have found that gettin' noticed cain't help but bring somethin' bad along with it. It's that somethin' BAD whut I'm sweatin' on.

Soon the table is a chattering, screaming, girl time mini party and it ain't long afore I'm tired of fake smilin' and get to eatin'. Company' nice n all but I jus wanna eat and cut outside. I don't thank this'll happen without a fight.

"Okay. If you had to choose between Sheila and Stacy, who would you choose?" Eyes go round and round the table spinning the FingerWheel of Death toward me. "Cord. Who would you choose?"

Phfluahaurh...Answers my mouth as it spits up my roast beef. The eyes lookin' my way now sayin' somethin' not purty.

"Uhm," stop wipe mouth, swipe new napkin wipe mouth again, answer, "Cain't choose. I'm chokin'."

Kayley Clement is ganderin' me like a mother whut just heard her little boy's first word. Like she's gonna cry. "Awww...isn't that sweet? He's so full of emotion he's all choked up!"

I'm starin' down at the table waitin' for the mocking laughing and food throwing that usually follows when I'm made the butt of a joke. Instead I hear more, "Awwws," and cooing, and giggles and see smiles and signs of admirin' me for somethin' I don't know whut. If this comes with the Fire Island tour package it seems I got the bonus plan.

Yep, I'm the man of the moment. Don't feel right.

*****

"No one has ever seen a hole like this!" I'm havin' weird dreams now where Hargis is floatin' around a space station layin' back and wavin' at me just sayin' hey from outer space. Strangest thang whut don't make no sense. Have no idear why such a dream would come to me. 'ceptin maybe 'cause I seen him doin' a fair amount of hangin' around where Melody is and it seems so strange and new like I'm once again just wakin' up to somethin' whut mighta been happenin' all along. Like I'm in outer space. Don't know.

I mean, Hargis IS a football star receiver so's I reckon makes sense he and Melody might could see each other out and about the campus. Still, cain't say's I recall ever seein' so many accidentally-on purpose?-catchin' up wit Melody in the locker central hallways. Gotta be some new team get together thang bein' as the Chillamore Coons is goin' up against their bitter rivals the Ratchfield Rhinos. Thatere's a game worth watchin'. Last time we met we "almost" whomped 'em till they snuck in a last minute desperation Hail Mary whut come off in their favor. Man was Chillamore PO'd after that! Reckon we been waitin' ever since to put it right. GO COONS!!!

Walkin' round these parts is not whut it used to be. Useta could walk around without so much as an eye or two turnin' my way. Now it's like I got a big ol' sign flashin' over my head announcin' me to the whole dang school. A might unnervin'. So I try to slip away and-

"Hey, Rimshank. Soooo? Tell us how you whooped him.?

"YEAH! And how it felt and all?"

Two "freshmen girls?" are moony eyein' me and smilin' at me like I'm their hero and I have no fuggin' idear why.

"Uhm, I don't know whut you's tawkin' bout. Really."

"Awww, he's all modest, Sara. Ain't that sweet?"

"C'mon," says Sara, evidently not happy with my shower of "modesty." "Tell us just once, just one little time, how you hoisted that bat, hit him upside the head, and sent him screamin' away like a little diaper baby. Please?"

"Yeah. It'll make a great lead story in the monthly Scraper."

The Chillamore Scraper, school newspaper un-supreme. Even the paparazzi reporter types are on me.

The only "bat" episode comes to mind is the one where ol' Shiv got whomped on the head by Shanise. That's all I got. But this ain't got nothin' to do wit me "ceptin' I was there as a spectator. Bein' saved from certain destruction of the Shiv kind by Shanise. How can these two girls possibly...?

"Cain't. Sorry," I say, steppin' away. "Cain't do it."

"Awww."

And I skedaddle afore they can catch up wit me. Now I'm sure somethin' strange swirlin' through thisere school and I'ma wonderin' if'n maybe some of Chastity's kick-it-up weed ain't pumpin' through the air vents. Just when I get to thankin' that Fire Island thingy was strange, I shows up to school to somethin' stranger still.

Maybe Fire Island ain't so bad after all.

I can set out here behind the school at a itty bitty hideaway knowed by very few. One a them few would be me. And I am happy as a Georgia peach.

A voice sails in over the swamp air currents whut sounds like Chastity n I ignore's it and stay silent. "If he just goes with the flow it'll all work out right? I mean he's just gotta-.Hey Cord. What are you doing here?"

Ooops. She's on me.

"Settin'."

She's already movin' away, busy busy busy girl on her phone bidnis, but first hits me with her famous solar smile.

"Oh...cool. So like I was saying..." she's waving me away.

Silence descends like a big ol' death cloak.

Thankin' thankin' thankin'. Seems word on campus is that Cord Rimshank done whooped ass on Shiv so that makes him a local hero. Great. A whole bunch of Shiv whoopin' ass on Cord Rimshank comin' round on accounta of that. Pints of blood anyone?

If you can please help my cause I'm much obliged. Home is no hideout. School never was but dang well sure ain't now. And deep swamp? If the time arrives when I wish to throw in the towel and donate myself as gator chow. More like chum.

At the end of the week now thangs is likely to explode. Or way or another. I'm sure of it. Question is: What is my best move?

Too late. "Hey, Rimshank. Hangin' or swangin it's Rimshank."

Now why in the name of all whut's holy is Shiv Lynch standin' but a hoot 'na holler in front of me nice tawkin' me like we's buds. If that don't beat all!

This is for certain sure another planet.

I'm maintainin' and all, but I barely look up and there he is, starin' down at me.

"Just so we're clear, suck head. Stay the fug AWAY from my girl and I got no business with you. Don't and I got lots of...PAINFUL business with you. Capish?"

All I can manage is a weak nod cuz I ain't sure he if'n he's gone jump me. If this don't end quick I'm gone shit a brick where I'm settin'.

He grunts, brushes a paw through his bristly psycho killer hair cut, and struts off whistlin' Dixie.

Another wonderful moment brought to you'uns by life the joker.

The next mornin' comes with a thud and the shrill whistle of the Trexmore freight train, runnin' again after a dang long layoff. Figures it'd start runnin' today. And here it is chug chug chuggin' through, tossing pebbles twigs and soda cans, flyin' by on its mission of doom. Man I swear that train's in my room when it wheels through. The sound goes right through my bones.

On today's school menu we have Miss Dullible, Stacy to her friends, fixin' to drive us through the magical world of Lord of the Flies and then pop quiz us. She does this just to see who's been payin' any attention atall to her long long longer jawin' spells on the "deeper implications" of the book under study. I mean, it's a cool story and all, but class don't much care about "deeper implications," just wanna get through it an move on. Unless you're the kiss 'n sniff crew lookin' to gain favor. Too much work for me.

"So then, winding into the middle of the book. What is the major message here or at the very least, what is Golding trying to stress above all?"

"He's kinda stressing me OUT."

Class erupts into grunts and nervous giggles and Miss Stacy lookin' around tryin' to see who dunnit but give up and winds up her mouth once more.

"Well? Anybody?"

Silence so deep and full descends you can hear the floor creak and the walls breath. Her windup yammer session hit a brick wall but she's undaunted.

"How about THIS one then, how was his Oxford friend, the anthroposophist Adam Bittleston, instrumental in Golding writing a series of pieces that in time became the masterpiece we know today as Lord of the Flies?"

I done got real good at sleepin' with my eyes open, just like a fish, so's I'll set here and "check out" for a spell while this train wreck keeps reassemblin' and disassemblin' itself as it squeaks and screeches along. Wheels grindin' on rails make the most bone chillin' sound they is. Ceptin of course ghost howlin'. Both spooky.

Or Miss Dullible, grindin' her teacher wheels on us till we whine for mercy. But them ears is deaf to mercy whiners. They's on a mission to learn ya or burn ya.

"The living matter of the planet Earth functions like a single organism, people. Be aware."

Thank she's goin' for a second career as televangelist ceptin' without the TV. Finds a way each session to work in somethin' whut sounds like "you's goin' to hell for your sins" but don't actually say it. Just tippy toes around the edges of it. She's a sly one Miss Stacy. A real sly one.

What did ol' Hargis tell me? "The way she twirls her squirrelly mystery surprise thingy on you at the end? That's why come Miss Stacy is so awesome. But I sent her off to twirl on other poles."

Reckon he's tawkin' bout someone, that's for dang sure, but I don't believe it's Miss Stacy he's referrin' to with his "twirlin' on poles" bidnis. That sounds more like the Cyclone Sisters. When the Sisters get to rockin' the boys come a knockin'

"Why come he's so fat.?"

"Clearly, without his corpulence the name Piggy would be ridiculous."

"Oh."

Like it ain't ridiculous anyhow. Never met me a boy named Piggy. Though did meet me my distant cousin, Boo. Weirdest white face shave head kid I ever seen. Kinder gibbered like a chipmunk when he tawked. Eyes rolled round all crazy like too. Like them Looney Tunes eyes. Matter of fact, seem to recall that was Uncle Craven's name for him.

"You'uns watch your p's 'n q's else you'll end up like ol' Looney Tunes here. Ain't no joy there, I tell you."

If you was a kid wit any thang atall set you apart from the others, he'd pick at that thang like a fiery bubble blister, pickin' and pickin' and pickin' and finally just reachin' over and rippin' off the skin. Pa says he does like at 'cause he was one of them Navy Seals and that's how they do ya there. That's what HE says. I thank it's just cause he's a ornery old cuss don't care about no little kids and their "gotta feel good about ME" bidnis.

"A little starch in their britches won't do 'em wrong, I tell you."

He is a man committed to his viewpoint. Whether you agree or not. Kinder like Memaw. Reckon that's why it makes sense they's brother and sister. Thatere's a coupla folk who's big on the pot likker.

Was readin' somethin' with Miss Stacy last semester about humankind's evolutionary ancestors, "the new people," who is generally identified with homo sapiens sapiens, and how they triumphed over a gentler race whut is generally identified with Neanderthals, mostly by violence and deceit. They was wily and deadly. Seems Uncle Craven, Knurl, Shiv, Memaw, many unnamed others, have a lot in common with these "new people" meanin' wily and vicious types. If'n I was around in the day of them tribal battles for dominance, I'da probly been kilt dead by one of them stone fisted bucket heads. Big ears, thick noses, jagged razor teeth, don't leave no room for mercy.

There is something in this tragedy that touches most people.

*****

"I'm tellin' ya man. She's throwing a huge Swimming With the Melonator party and anyone who's anyone is going. You in?"

How many days have passed? I done lost track right about the time I noticed I was back to a school that was like mine but different. Ever since I been stayin' low profile. Tryin' anyhow. But folk just cain't git themselves to let me be. Like I'm lone prey and the predators is on me nonstop. Gotta git me to a deep dark cave somwheres and put this right. For some reason I get the feelin' this ain't gonna happen the way I'd like it to. Just a pattern of thangs happenin' to me like that. Like whatever way I'd LIKE something to go it goes the exact opposite way usually puttin' me in harm's way in grand style. I'm lost on the set of a B horror movie.

Cept now I'm lost on the set of Humanoids From the Deep whut means the party ol' Haggis is yappin' to me about. It's fixin' to be the mother of all horror shows. If'n I can figger a way out of this I'd take it in a hop and a spit. Nothing comes to mind.

Now there are some ways this could work in my favor. All of them unlikely. But if I had my druthers, here's my fantasy party scene with Melody. I meet her in the master bathroom in the back of the house and she gets all hot and steamy tellin' me how she's always wanted me but was afeared of sayin' it and we get busy right quick in a blaze of fiery passion afore anybody's the wiser. That's what I'm thankin' anyhow. Nothin' like that is gonna happen in my life time. And if I want my lifetime to come to a walloping good finish I can pursue my Melody obsession till Shiv is happy to oblige my wish of total obliteration.

Well, I can dream cain't I? What else do I got but dreams?

Pool parties are somethin' odd and not happenin' very often out here in the Bottoms. Reckon that's why Melody's havin' thisere pool party at her house up in northeastern Clegg County. Nowhere's near the Bottoms but still in the Chillamore Central school district. Whoever does these lines separatin' one county from another and the lines they cross doin' it should be shot. By rights Melody should be goin' to Ratchfield on accounta she lives just a hoot 'na holler away.

Cool by me she ain't at Ratchfield. Not cool is the fact that Shiv is on the prowl which tells me that bein' anywhere near her pool party is a death sentence for all eyeball wanderin' fellers. Since I ain't the only eyeball wanderin' feller there I reckon they's safety in numbers.

Even standin' by the trash cans they's people hoverin' about. Already I'm hearin' some kinder tension goin' on between three folks don't know who they is.

"She's my baby sister. She's MY baby doll. Any boy who gets near her I push him away."

"Are you cool with that, Najib?"

"No I am not COOL wit dat. But what CAN I do? Dis is da ting of my people."

"But don't you have girls, Palau?"

"Yes, I do. But dis ting is not for my baby doll."

Reckon he's fixin' up a lonely life for his baby doll keepin' her from playin' with other baby dolls. I can unnerstand why she ain't "cool with that." I'm thankin' she's fixin' to run away to freedom.

Other folks here are racin' for freedom around the pool as they rev up for a Frozen T-Shirt Contest.

Our host, Melody, stands on the diving board 'splainin the rules:

"These t- shirts have been soaked in water, then frozen for the last 2-3 days so you can only imagine how cold and HARD they are," she says to a sea of sniggers. "You form teams, take the shirts out and divide your peeps into 2 groups. Each group is racing to thaw and put on the shirt. You can use anything in the yard to thaw it: hose, pool, slam it on the pavement, use your hands, breathe on it, etc. Have someone shout out "switch" every 15 seconds and switch the person thawing the shirt. The first team to thaw it and put it on one of their teammates wins."

"What if the person doesn't wanna wear it? Can we make 'em?"

The big ol' football type sayin' this is starin' right at Melody's bodacious tatas while he tawks. I'd be watchin' my words if'n I was her.

"In the spirit of friendly, I repeat "friendly," competition, let's please keep it safe and sane. Though a little gentle persuasion is welcome, we don't want to mangle our friends."

"I won't mangle ya, honey. I'll just squeeze them juicy peaches a little bit when I jam the t-shirt on you. HOOAAA!!"

"Okay, keep this guy off the liquor!" Melody flashes a smile and makes a pained expression before stepping off the diving board. I reckon she cain't be too scared of Mr. squeeze your peaches with Shiv on the loose. Then again, a whole mess of squeezin' can happen afore he swoops in to pummel the offender. Sounds to me like a bit of "sweet pain."

Seems I'm in some kinder receivin' line wit folks comin' up to "chit the chat" n I just listen to them gabber.

This one girl, Ruth, is tellin' me about her sister, Sheila Staunch, who just got divorced 4 days ago and immediately married a feller named Silo Stiggins. It seems she got a weird thang for 'S' names. Ruth worries herself on it but it don't change much. Ceptin for Ruth. She looks tuckered out as a ten year old hound dog.

Can you believe I just met most of these folk in the last week? I still cain't. Does make it difficult to cut out alone. But then this is a new world for me still. The world where everybody is "cut on" all the time.

The warm tones and beautiful state. The native language of Southern folk. These are the things I love about thisere place. 'Ceptin' I'm hearin' less and less Southern folk tawk and more Northern folk tawk that's right peculiar. The north moved south so long ago it's becomin' a whole new mutation. Cain't say's I much care for it. As they say, "Whaddya gonna do?"

'Course, studyin' on it just a quick bit, seems to me the tawk I'm hearin' around is northern/southern mix-it-up but I'm also hearin' some western soundin' tawk. Like California. An everybody knows California's weird.

Ever dang body's movin' in mebbe's time to move out. In fact, just today was hearin' bout a graybeard from Philadelphia was a carryin' on a inappropriate sexual relationship with a 16-year-old student while he was teachin' her how to drive. Then he get her to lie to her

Pa so's the two soiled birds could spend nights rollin' in motel rooms. Now that there's a northern influence southern parents are in no rush to meet. And right then gets me to thankin' about ol' Knurl and his new "friend" Maylene who don't look a day over 15 and I'm thankin' , well, I reckon you know what. "Course with no Momma around I got nothin' to say. I believe she probly run off. Cain't say as I blame her or nothin'. Just wish she woulda not punished the innocent with the guilty. Reckon that makes me a boy unchained. Like a Free Bird sorta kinder.

Skynyrd is kickass!

"You can avoid evil, but you cannot avoid the consequences of avoidin' evil." Memaw said that more'n once. I'm danged sure on it. Standing at a safe distance from the frozen t-shirt competitors ain't bringin' enough play by play my way so by and by I make my way in closer. Now I'm bein' run over, watered, Co-Cola'd, ever thing in plain sight of wanderin' hands. And let me tell you them hands is a wanderin'. Shirts is bein' tugged on, smashed on, forced on, and in the case right before my blessed eyes a fornicacious case of shirt bein' tore off bringin' bronze titties front and center. Seems I got me front row seats.

From this place I can see it all. Lookin' sideways I see some of the more adventurous athletes are rompin' in the livin' room tryin' to find how many folks can squeeze into a XXL shirt and how many is squeezed out. I thank they's callin' this the Zit Popper technique. On and on this goes. And on.

Then as if on cue to some greater unnerstandin', Melody struts out with a thawed t-shirt in hand evidently lookin' for a teammate. She's lookin'. No doubt about it. But others are lookin' too and soon they's beginnin' to collide slide and suicide as crashin' and fallin' is the new game.

But it's just warmin' up. Mr. Squeeze Your Peaches is on the move in a big ginormous way makin' a bold move head on toward Melody who he takes up in his arms, rips her top off and pulls the wet t-shirt slowly but insistently down her luscious body. He keeps pausin' to paw her landscape but thisere's a girl whose hands is used to swattin' nasty aggravatin' flies. She slaps him twice then starts to aim for more southerly targets when Mr. Peaches raises his hands up, says, "I surrender!" and backs away like a good little boy.

I cain't believe I just saw what I saw. He went after her. She pushed him off. But never like I would expect somebody to push somebody away they didn't want near them. Almost like she was "play" pushin' away. For a girl guarded by monster gorillas she sure plays her cards wide open and visible to all. This may be Mr. Peaches' last day with all his teeth. That's worth stickn' around some.

Maybe that's her sport if'n I study it a itty bit. She leads em on, they come like little puppies, then she SMAAACKS! them away without crackin' a smile. Reckon it's a good sport for a girl who got no lack of willin' company. Like fishin' with dynamite.

Whut she don't take care of Shiv will. They got that market cornered.

Anyhow, seems Melody and Peaches won on that round though I've lost track of how since they was on separate teams. Maybe they warn't winnin' nothin' just water playin'. Don't make no sense. You mix girl titties and wet t-shirts together you got yourself the makin's of a heavy drinkin', heavy darin', heavy DOIN' party where bunches of somebody's gonna be getting' their dog on and howlin' at the moon even if it ain't risin'. If'n I was Melody after her scuffle with Peach Pit I'd be keepin' girlfriends close while she and he are at thissere party. No way to trust a big ol' bubba when his motor is revved. That sombitch even shiftin' gears.

The thang whut got folks up lopsided when it hit 'em, is the fracas with Mr. Peaches. Yeah, call him that 'cause don't know his name so peaches'll do. Tawk was goin' round of parties and people and thangs that happen or don't and how can a party train stay on track when folks don't. And how, and how, and how, but it hit nobody whut was the answer starin' 'em right in the face: The train didn't go off the tracks. The people did.

"He tossed her like a toy," Polly redhead says, "Nothing but a kid's toy."

Most whut these folks do when they ain't pickin' up each other and treatin' em as "kid's toys" is tawk and tawk and tawk. Right borin' to me. But then thesere folks is mostly not from around here from childhood so as transplants they got a strange way of partyin'.

But for the most itty bitty of moments, I was a-walkin' down Paradise Street.

"The social critter is a massive blue octopus with far reachin' tentacles," I mumble to myself, louder than I thought.

"Aw, cut your blubberin', Rimshank. Can't you see there's a wild party going? With lots of impressive babes? C'mon and get with it."

Don't know who this person is but he thanks he knows me. Crazy as a loon. I know it ain't him, but his voice sounds like this singer named Smoky J. He been my favorite singer since I discovered his music two years ago.

His songs speak to me, like no other songs ever. I could relate to these lyrics. I unnerstood em. They were bout my life and my struggles. These were songs about tryin' to find a place independent of society and apart from the mindless crowds who needed community and belongin' for its own sake. Smoky J. learns you that independence and self-reliance are the greatest virtues. The world can be a cruel and lonely place, the only person whut I can depend on is myself, and friendship is a fast disappeared thang like a lightin' bug and mostly illusion anyhow-my recent experience with Hargis proved that. And as for love...well, that seemed too farn to even consider.

Melody obsession is somethin' of its own kind, true only to its own reasons, its own way. The obsessed live in a misty world where the cloudiness they see is the misted fog descendin' all around them blockin' details from sight. This is my world. Reckon why folks like ol' Shiv can sneak up on me scarin' the bejeemus outta me.

I'm more familiar with movin' slower, shufflin' around, goin' about like they's nowheres to go cause they ain't none. Useta could take my time about everthang. Not no more though. Now it's high speed this, high speed that, do tomorrow's thankin' today so to stay ahead on yur thankin'. Livin' five days at a time to save time. Crazy. Nothin' like the hillbilly world Pa and Memaw come from. And nothin' like the mostly hillbilly world I come from. But everwheres around me I see nary a reflection of folk like me ceptin for Pa and he ain't 16 no mo.

Put me in a place like thisere party, and my "world is a cruel and lonely place" survival strategy kicks in. The loneliest I feel is when I'm surrounded by folk. 'Specially when them folks is strange and farn.

*****

Come and listen to a story 'bout a man named Jed

Purr mountaineer burrly kept his fam-lee fed

Thatere's my Grampappy Miller Stein, old hillbilly from deep Ozark way. Ceptin this next part:

Then one day he was shootin' at some food,

And up through the ground come a-bubblin' crude

(Oil that is, black gold, Texas tea)

Grampappy ne'er did have no luck wit no oil or nothin'. Shot him plenty of possum. Useta whip up a possum stew to shame ya. 'N I been learned by so called learned folk: Being called a 'hillbilly' or 'redneck' generally carries negative connotations, there are those who are quite proud of that distinction. That'd be me and my kin. We is what we is and ain't ashamed of it. Ain't no reason to be. But this is not the view of most "edumucated" folk. They's not educated like they thank.

We figgers thems don't know their p's and q's is more'n a might confused.

This then is Momma's family, the Ozark Steins, not to be confused with the Ozark Liptenschteins. A battle my grandparents fought like the Hatfield's and McCoy's. Never did settle what was up with the feud. Some say was Grampappy run off with the Litpteschtein's youngest daughter but we knows that ain't true cause he got hitched with Memaw Terlene when they was 15. If'n Grampappy was steppin' out on Memaw she wouldna stood fer it and whooped him proper or outright filled him full of 12 gauge lead. So the family don't believe them lyin Liptenschteins. But thatere's just the one battle. The main battle no matter what anybody says is that the Liptenschteins went up and down the mountain trails causin all manner of mischief and thievery and blamin' the Steins for the trouble. Why the law dogs believed them and not my family I never knowed bein just a young'n and all but seems my family never could figger it out neither. War seemed the only honorable hillbilly alternative. So I reckon my family on Momma's side is a warrin' type of hillbilly folk. Finally we pulled up stakes and moved out to the swamplands, as far away from mountain country as we could without leavin Tennessee.

That din't work out so good neither cause Momma run off and I ain't seen her in a long long time. I reckon she mighta went back to Ozark country to throw down on the Liptenschtein's bein' a warrin' hillbilly type. Would be great if'n she did cause then she may yet come back around.

Wild grass grows on the hillsides of Linden Holler. Deer stop to munch before galloping away. To the north spread the mountains of the Appalachian Mountains. The days of my itty bitty youth were often witness to these simple natural movements. Since comin to the Bottoms nothin natural a stirrin cept gators and scatterin rodents. Can barely remember these times now in the long distant tomorrow caught in the dreary darkness of Wa'tay.

Why these memories come flashin back today I have no earthly idear. It ain't on my mind or nothin but yet there it is bright as day.

On days like this my uncle Jasper would round up his old hound dogs, gear up a fishin' pole, and make his way to water's edge where he'd set himself down for a long smoke and thank while dangling that ol' line in the water just waitin' on a nibble. Could sometimes set a whole day with not so much as nothin'. Din't seem to make no mind to him. He was just satisfied a bein' all alone at peace with his dogs, his backer pipe, and his fishin' pole. Now that there sounds like a winnin' combination to me.

The hillbilly way.

What would he say if'n you asked him any old thang about him settin' by the water like he do? "Ain't none a yore dad-burned bidnis!" He was a man of few but important words.

Reckon you'd call him "a straight shooter, a shoot from the hip feller, a call 'em as he sees 'em feller," any number of thangs all doin' wit a feller who don't pull no punches and gets right down to where the rubber meets the road. The kind of feller you'd want on yer side and not agin ya. The kind of feller who Memaw said was, "jes as likely to spit at ya as shoot ya." Stories tell of both thangs happenin' with astoundin' regularity. Uncle Jasper. Reckon he was one part hillbilly two parts killbilly.

There is the story that tells of a young buck who was houndin' Lula Belle, his favoritest niece, causin' all manner of ruckus and ill feelin' till Jasper could no longer bear it so he went ragin' through town chasin' the tally whacker and shot him in the face to change his viewpoint on the world of hillbilly vengeance. That boy ne'er did come round again. Much to the discomfort of Lula Belle who din't so much mind the boy as did her uncle, but also knew this now made her the girl who came packin' a loaded shotgun named Jasper. You might say she warn't bothered by love struck boys much after that. Though from what I been tole, she was quite the looker. She left school at sixteen and never come back to the mountains again.

Word is she got knocked up and hitched to a mean drunk who beat her and cheated on her but bein' far away from uncle Jasper, it was all over but the cryin'. In ever dang story from branches of the Rimshank family tree there's the makin's of a movie or TV show. I get the itchin' feelin' that our family tree goes straight up like it's a one from Bammer.

Is this called a funkshinul, dis-funkshinul or non-funkshinul family? Sounds to me more like a pack o wild critters. Momma said we's the most "sigogglin" critters ever! I din't know what she was sayin' so she learned me that sigogglin means crooked. Like we's twisty kinder folk. That's the way I seen it anyhow. I knows she warn't sayin we's criminals. Was she?

But at them times I was to the school most often so's I done spent only but little bits of time with Momma absorbin' her learnin'. Now I sure do miss it. Them times. Seein' as she's long gone. No more fillin' a poke with samiches and packin' me off to school. No more playin' meehonkey and fallin' into a big kissy huggy time. I'm thankin' I'm a endangered species. Sure KNOWS Momma is!

So we's settin' around after football practice and tawkin' bout all manner of thangs do to with school, boring, when suddenly Hargis whips into a long long long tawk about Chastity, and Shanise, and Melody and the thangs they do places they go and how it's all so like the greatest thang since sliced bread and I cain't follow his thankin'. Why is these particular girls so dang interestin' to him now? He's knowed them much longer than me and suddenly it's like they just popped outta the rotten woodwork of his porch and he's jus now seein' em.

"And Melody goes, "See him? I wouldn't wanna BE him!" and everyone starts cracking up big time. She's a funny one."

"I reckon."

"Have you seen her new dog? A cute little Yorkie named Boots. She loves that dog like nothing else. I think she can put off having kids and just have the dog."

"No Ain't seen it."

"Well...you should."

"I hear that she's plannin' a -"

"Party! Yeah, a party. A costume party I think I heard her say. I mean, come as you are NOT!"

"Costume party? Are you kidding?"

"No. Don't thank so. Unless she changes her mind and Melody is nothing if she's not a mind changing kinda girl."

"Sounds like you know her purty well or something."

"Not really. I just pay attention to her ways."

"If'n you ever go drivin' with her you'll get to know her even better. When I went-"

"Yeah she told me when she took me for a ride out to see Chastity's forest cabin. Now that there is a cool old cabin."

"Full of stuffed critters."

"Yeah, that was kinda weird. But the inside was sure cozy. Like the fireplace was kickin'!'

Suddenly it seems ol' Hargis is become powerful interested in Melody and I cain't figure it knowin' as he does my feelings for this hootchie mama. I know she's fine and all and I jes figgered-mebbe not rightly so-that a friend, a true FRIEND, would do his best to do right by his friend and would not take after any act whut would harm him. So was my thankin'. Yet today once again Hargis comes to me all excited like with news of some new Melody what not and I'm supposed to be quiet on this? I reckon not.

"Jes to be sure on my part. Why are you stickin' to Melody like burdock when you know she's is none other than the only apple of my eye? Please learn me on this cause I cain't figger it."

"'Whoa now, C. Nothing happening here but same ol same ol school business. That's all. When someone comes to me asking a favor I do my best to help. Is that wrong?"

"What you's sayin' is not whut I got from your first tellin' of this latest thang. Din't you say she was askin' for directions and advice for the quarry which I knows you know and you said it ain't so hard to find that you need to lead her there? Din't you? Now you's tellin' me a different tale paintin' you as the hero in her tale of woe. I know I ain't just fishin' here."

"No, you're not just fishing here. Just wrong. I am only trying to help someone who's asking for help. That's all. I mean, c'mon C, it's not like you OWN her or anything. You're starting to sound a lot like Shiv, "Don't touch her or I'll kill ya!" Is that what you want?"

"Okay. So you ain't gone lead her by the hand and take her there."

"Now I didn't say THAT."

"Reckon we have a failure to communicate. You set still rychere while I fetch my shotgun."

And that's whut begun the breakdown of a friendship that has endured since young'ns. I know it's a strange and dangerous bidnis to have girls come between ya and such. And I knows that there 20 horse team bidnis is always in play. But I cain't put together how this feller I thought I knowed long enough to trust with personal bidnis is suddenly to me a farner and I am stunned stupid like I been slapped upside the head with a Louisville slugger. It is a shame he don't remember the good old days when we was young'ns and we used to dig for worms in the dirt and watch them go down the slide and when he used to wake up everyone during teacher tawkin' borin' time and did something crazy and he had to be moved to a different corner of the room in kinnygardin, and the time Wheeler's sister kicked him in the ****.

Good times.

But he done forgetted em like they never was. Done mommucked the whole thang.

Life sucks then it blows.

*****

"Hey big C. C'mon in here with Melody and me. We're thinking this is a pretty good hide away from Shivhead.

Haggis is callin' me from his basement window. He's downair wit...Melody? Come why? Downstars thangs is cozy as coon 'n cooter. Ol' Haggis settin' on a old warshin' machine in the spiderweb corner and Melody settin' on the Dryer right next. And I notice she's smilin', laughin', seemin' like at every word he says. Now we's tawkin' Haggis. He's my best bud but he ain't THAT funny. Less you's hopped up on crack cocaine.

Lookin' at this from where I'm at it's like looking down the wrong end of bynoculars. All I see is THEM with nobody else in the picture. Not even sure if Chastity and Shanise is there. I reckon I'm blind to them. Just Melody side frame and Haggis dead center of my frame stuck like a big ol' greedy black cloud whut best not be pissin' on my back and tell me it's rainin.'

And suddenly, from out the cold and distant time, where everything that was IS and where everything that is is NOT as it appears, comes a thunderous roar of deaf makin' primal scream that's spittin' and cussin' and raigin' tornado. It seizes my throat and flaps my tongue makin' it say the craziest thangs.

"Why come I don't get any updates?"

"Huh? Whutchou at, C?"

Suddenly I don't know this likeable loyal friend who is startin' to look like alpha wolf in the hen house. I feel a smack down comin' on but it don't make no sense. This guy is my bud. It's the drug. That evil drug. Makin' me into some Golem lookin' for his precious. I am a desperate addict.

"Just hit me I never knowed you and Melody was friends or nothin.' I knowed you seen her about and all. But, well..." I cut it there but I know my face is sayin' 'this don't feel right' and I'm hopin' he gets it."

"Oh come on now, C. Nothing going on here. I was headed out, they were drivin' by. Waves were exchanged cars were stopped and when we got to talking about the Shiv situation-that's all Mel's thinkin' about-,"we realized it was best we teamed up, that's all. You know, power in numbers?"

"Oh."

Melody's studyin' me real deep and I dang well wish I could read her thoughts. Her face is sayin' either, "I don't know you," or worse, "I don't wanna know you." But I don't read faces real good.

I'm gettin' sucked into the Melody tractor beam and all is fuzzy. Sharp edges are missing. Walls are flattened. And suddenly it hits me that hours must've passed. The silence is aggravatin' me. He called her Mel.

"Okay. So whut are we doin.'?" And why you tawkin' so funny I'm thankin'.

Haggis spins toward me like he didn't expect that. Blank faces me. Shrugs and says.

"Don't know. We're just talking ideas."

"And laughing like crazy! He's so funny!"

Yes he's hilarious. And you who done called her Mel. You don't know? You don't KNOW?? Just tawking ideas. I KNOW! I don't like this whole thang you got goin' on and while your strategy confuses me I don't like it and I got some serious ponderin' to do and I know I ain't gonna like it. I ain't no fool on knowin' the Melody Genesis game. Every guy notices her and wants to claim her. Like coyotes hunting their prey. But they's all at a distance ceptin' Shiv. Heck, the only reason I been closer is cause she dragged me there herself. But Haggis is closer, much closer than I've EVER been, and he's tawkin' and smiling and tawking and smiling and laughing and Melody is laughin' so hard I'm afeared she gonna cough up a lung. There is just something so WRONG with this. I sure as hell know it and I cain't shake it. Love sucks and blows at the same time. Yes, Haggis my useta could be friend. You were right on it. And now you're tryin' to get right on the UoneU the UonlyU the Uforever girl of my dreamsU and while I know we's all coyotes, I didn't thank a coyote would slide in for the kill so close to home. Blindsided me.

Scuse me. Private Number One Dumb Ass reportin' for duty!

Love is blind and so are you when your friend's stealin' your girl. I swears I'm phasin' in and out of this tawk and feel like I'm almost not there but still connected. Strong thangs ragin' through me.

"She's just not into you, C. She come after me and whatchou want me to do? Say no? That ain't the way."

"Feels like you sucker punched me."

"Sorry, man. Really. But you know, when things go your way you gotta roll with it."

And when things go agin your way you get rolled over. What I'm feelin' right now. I knew I knew, did I know or what, that somethin' warn't right when Haggis call me into his basement whut had Melody and him in it. Later I found out that Shanise and Chastity were also there but I din't see them though mighta heard 'em. 'Splains it when you unnerstand I was in blind rage.

So just like that my star crossed lover's story comes to a crashin' into a brick wall ending, one I could not have seen comin'. Who would thank that the girl you's hankerin' for would fall for your best bud? And who would thank that your bud would take her on? Reckon I shoulda expected it. This seems like some upside down world bidnis. But I'm getting' a right uncomfortable feelin' this may be a right side up world bidnis whut I'm just now comin' to see. Reckon I been so blind to anything but Melody, Melody, Melody that the right side up world was mebbe whompin' me on the head but I warn't listenin'. Lights was on but no one was home.

"Hey C. let's go into the city room and talk this out."

He leads me to the city room, the big corner of the basement where we once built our city of cans. It's like the high holies of the gone away Cord and Hargis world.

Now when I look up at those grimy windows that useta could look like windows to our dreams, they look like prison windows locking me out of a place I never got to, never will.

"Listen, on the positive side. That Shanise babe is totally into you, C. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth I say."

He's tawkin' soft tryin' to keep it private.

"Uh huh. But-"

"C'mon C. With all due respect you gotta try at least half as hard for Shanise as you did for Melody. And while I know it ain't your preferred way it could be worse. I mean Shanise with that island girl thing goin' on ain't half bad. I'm just sayin'. If she were into me I wouldn't feel cheated. But that's just me. "

"Yeah, that's just YOU, the Mick Jagger of Chillamore. You get 'em comin' and goin' and I only wanted this one. Don't seem right."

I slink away to a corner for a long ponderin' and sulkin' session where I might find a reason to continue breathin'. Don't much care if'n I quit breathin' directly. Breath gone, sight gone, sound gone, taste gone, feelin' gone. All the pain disappearin' like down the toilet. Bout sums up my view presently.

TIME

TIME

TIME

TIME

"Tell you what. When I'm through with her you can have her."

CCRRRAAAAAAAACCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!

My fist goes flyin' before I knows it and Haggis pulls away bleedin' and spittin' while I rub my hand. Hittin' somebody in the face hurts like hell!

The girls get to squawkin' with some itty bitty 'oohs and aahs." But when Haggis got to tawkin' about her like she was just some other groupie type he's had more'n enough of already, I blew a gasket and busted loose. This is Melody Genesis we's tawkin' about. Not your typical high school girl. She's a honey to put all honeys to shame. And I'll be damned if I let even Haggis tawk about her like she's trash.

"Damn C. Quite a slug you got goin'," he says, feelin' round his face and comin' away with blood. "Guess we're even then."

"No, Hag. We ain't even. Not even close. You got her, I don't, I'm pissed and nothin' cept her comin' to me's gonna make it right."

"Can't force a girl to do what she don't want to."

"Not what you say about other girls, Hag. Warn't it you done told me that when it comes to girls even a no is a maybe?"

He raises his eyebrows and shrugs it off. "Mighta been. Nothin' new with that philosophy. World couldn't spin round without it."

"I reckon that's one MORE thing we don't agree on. Girls are-"

"Soft and pure and god's divine gift to men. Yeah, tell the news, C. But there's one more thing they are. Dangerous. If Melody wasn't Danger Girl we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Gotta agree with him there. Melody IS Danger Girl. Don't I know it. Reckon thatere's the kinda tendency that carries over into all parts of your world. Would make sense why she's wild behind the wheel and wild with love. Maybe 'splains it but don't make me feel no better. Sombitch done stole my almost girl and means to chew her up and spit her out. From what I see that is the Haggis way. Also it's the scumbag rock star football star way who's given more girls to chew than he deserves. Like the sombitch who goes into the buffet line fixin' to clear out all the victuals in one sweep. Sounds like sinful greed to me. Memaw would agree.

Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife. Don't fit but close enough for love work.

Filtering in through the thick fog of confusion I faintly hear girl voices tawkin' somethin' sounds like argyin'.

"Why you do him like that?"

"HELOOO...You said he was a fun guy and I figured a fun guy would roll with it."

"Ha ha ha ha. Talk about communication breakdown. I said "fungi" not "fun guy." At the time...well...that's what I felt. But that was..."

"Just something I love about that laid back southern talking boy."

"...a new understanding that..."

I"His style gets my motor running."

Need me a radio receiver to tune out the noise so's I can hear what they's tawkin' about. Sounds like it's gettin' interestin'.

"Well that's cool and all but..."

Melody don't say nothin', just sets there lookin' around her and smilin' like a beautiful fool.

So I'm just hangin' about mindin' my own bidnis doin' nothin' atall when Shanise comes over and begins tellin' me some hogwash bout how she's worried about Melody cause'n she is so so used to every feller far as she can see trippin' over their stupid selves and hanging from the trees by their suspenders to get next to her, with her, IN her that it entirely tweaks her little "oh look at me" mind to find out there is one, ONE who has not, is not, maybe WILL not drool and fall over himself to get to her and it drives her up the Cover Girl wall!

So who is this impetuous arrogant foolish feller who dares to offend her so? OMG: Hargis!

And this explains why she cain't keep herself from him cause he's one notch she won't be carvin' in her Givenchy purse and it's got her PO'd from here to Timbuktu.

"But you still got me, C. Don't forget that part."

*****

I'ma readin' thisere letter section in The Wa'tay Horn called Why Your Good Friend Would Steal Your Girl and I see interestin' thangs that seem to be a mirror image of my present sichyashun.

"Melvin Dooner,

Why is it that a woman you truly like and love would hit on your good friend and actually go out with your good friend? You try your best to impress her and make her happy. But she leaves you for your best friend. Why is this?"

"The Horn,

Well, one of the first things you may want to do is step back and look at how you view a best friend. Most times people meet others , have a laugh or two, spend a very short time with one another and in 48 hours, they become your best friend. Being a best friend requires time, patience, trust and loyalty. As far as your girlfriend goes... again, trust, loyalty, time and patience play a major role in any relationship. It truly defines what you stand for and believe in.

Unfortunately, not everyone can be trusted. Our hearts tend to shift at the slightest wave of just saying "hi" to one another..."

"When people shift from one person to another in a short span of time it's usually not love, just an attraction that lasts for a moment. I really wouldn't take that so personal, because she probably wasn't serious from the beginning. And that should teach you how others view your theory of love."

"Take time out to understand what it is that you really want from a relationship and look for that when you start a relationship. Because that is the only way you're ever going to be satisfied and happy with whom you're with. You can't change or control what others do but you certainly can control and change the way you do things. And always know that when someone walks away from a relationship to be with someone else, it's their loss and lack of understanding what it means to be loyal and trustworthy."

"Todd Blakely,

My girl hit on my best friend and he went out with her. Can I ever trust my best friend again? I mean, we've been friends for like ever."

On this he preaches vengeance:

"The Horn,

He's not just going to walk up to your house and say he's sorry; he's going to try to sneak his way in. He's going to say, 'Hey, let me bring back that bottle of Jack I borrowed.' You tell him, 'Throw that likker in the front yard and keep rolling because you ain't coming in here.'"

I coulda wrote these letters myself. Funny how thangs work like that sometimes. One minute you's all alone with your misery and the next you find that somebody else in the world is goin' through the same grief. Might could form some kinder club or somethin'. The Friends Against Former Friends club.

Now I cain't see as I'm bein unreasonable. I only done wanted this one girl, a real WHOPPER of a beautiful girl I knows, but still it's the kinder thang that should be unnerstood between friends that you don't go after the girl your best friend is goin after. It jes ain't right. And I thought Hargis was with me on this. Then I find that the dang ol' twenty horse team has been hard at work draggin' him around by his doo hickey and he's beat up and whooped on by the trail stones. Well that's too dang bad for him and should learn him what happens when you go agin all that's right. The big hand of God drops down from the clouds and squashes your slimy butt back into the swamp it come from. Yeah, God would do that. He's jes that way with thangs that's right.

Still, I cain't hep but remember the good times. Like them times we was hunting and canoeing and digging through the forest adventurin'....

We had jes finished huntin' for the day and were settin' down for the night.

"Let's get a fire roaring and make smoke signals," said Hargis, putting away his rifle. "Gather some wood while I kindle the leaves."

Hargis picked up a wad of twigs; carried it out to the open ground, raked together a pile of dry leaves and grass, and ignited it. Meanwhile I collected an armful of sticks and placed them on top of the pile. We commenced to throw others on top, with green leaves and boughs broke from the trees, and over the whole bunch several armfuls of Spanish moss which hung in sheets from the oaks. A thick blue smoke soon soared high into the heavens; and we stood with searching eyes that picked apart the forest in all directions. We had made a monster column of smoke we were sure was visible all over the forest. If'n we were signaling somebody we was sure they would see it.

So While Hargis is bein' dragged around by his doo hickey, I'm layin' back and readin' whut seems to be the only peaceful joy I'm gettin' lately. Then there are other times when-

"Hey, dude. You're coming, right? To the quarry gig. It's gonna be WHOOOEEEEE!"

"Um. I reckon. The one Hargis was tawkin' about?"

"Maybe. It' s the only quarry gig I know about, so yeah, probly. You in?"

"Was also tawkin' bout a costoome-"

"Yeah, bring your costume suit or whatever. Meet the group here at three. See ya!"

And off skipped Chastity to another stop on her mission of lunacy, bringin' random acts of confusion one hair pull at a time.

The day went from bad to worse at ol' Chillamore and I ain't gone go into it so's when the let go bell rang I was outta there on spitfire sneakers as I raced back to home base for a quiet down time I was sorely in need of. Clicked on the TV and laid back to watch Deadliest Catch which I just love with the treacherous weather conditions and crew conflicts. Yep sure do love the wild and crazy world of these crab fisherman though I miss Captain Phil Harris who died recently and was really gettin' into it but my high spirits din't last long. Next I knew I must've fallen asleep or somethin' as I was suddenly dropped into a party whut was the weirdest party I'd ever seen. All manner of folk in the most godawful getups so's I couldn't make heads or tails of it.

A spiky redhead feller in a bright green one-piece Riddler costume but unfortunately the aging spandex was stretched miiiigggghhttyy thin...In this costume, his private parts was not an E. Nigma.

A boobacious girl in a giant red lobster suit hoppin' and jigglin' her way across the crowded dance floor.

One lady wearin' fruit up top her head like a farn dancin' girl.

A girl with open sores and runny make up on her face was cryin' up a hurricane babblin', "I'm not a zombie you idiots. I'm a kitty!"

A girl dressed up as a camera fixed up in a cardboard box painted black, with holes cut for her head and arms. She even stuck a small box up on top for the flash with the inside lined in foil and a flashlight shoved in there so's she could click it on and off.

A girl who put dark purple gel in her hair, and made her skin really pale and put on way too much eyeliner. She wore fairy wings and carried around a wand and told people she was a Fairy Gothmother.

A feller dressed as a Cereal Killer who walked about stabbing the hell outta a poor helpless box of Cheerios stomping on the pieces that fell and mumblin', "I told you, effers!"

A dopey lookin' feller dressed as a giraffe complete with tail and camo shorts. That was kinda cool.

A girl dressed as a Cheerleader Witch complete with hat, wand, and mismatched pom- poms.

One feller who looked like he had put on his most wrecked t-shirt and sweatpants, rolled in the dirt, smeared greasepaint on his face and fake blood and come as a Zombie. Mebbe the "blood" was real.

A couple who thought they was cute I reckon dressed as a fork and spoon. I was lookin' for the cow that'd run away with them like the nursery rhyme but 'ceptin for a herd of blimpy girls no cow costumes were seen.

This one girl dressed in short black skirt, Day-Glo stockings and wearin' headphones dancin' around bein' I don't know what. Maybe just a plugged in girl bein' a legend in her own mind.

And of course a Gary Coleman costumed feller who just walked about sayin', "Whatchu talkin' 'bout?"

And me? When I found a mirror to look into I found I was dressed as me, no costume, and no makeup, just me with a smoking joint in my hand. Made no sense atall. I thought for sure things was weird as things could get till I dropped the smoking joint into the toilet and was pulled in in in in to the toilet headfirst and I knew I was sure gone drown if'n I din't get mangled on the way down. Water whirling everywhere like I was caught in eddies whut been swirlin' since the beginnin' of time. Whirlpool eddies whut existed to suck crap from the surface and pull it down to the ocean bottom where it would remain. I was flushin' through some kinda underground city or somethin' cause I saw folk settin' about on rockin' chairs on porches, passin' around large jugs with XXX on the side which I knew right away was home brew stuff and they was jawin' and laughin' and knee slappin' and carryin' on like no tomorrow. But I just kept on sailin' by, a big ol' turd slab on its way out to the bottom of the sea. And wouldncha know it but Melody's face come to mind all smiley and sparkly and makin' goo-goo eyes at Hargis and it was then I knew for sure I was headin' to the bottom of the ocean cause I was crap needed to be tossed.

Flash! Baang! Scene change. Walkin' with Chastity and Shanise whut was completely trashed in a parkin' garage whut din't have stairs so we had to walk up the ramp to get to Knurl's car which he had evidently let me drive...but the girls walked up the middle of the ramp! I saw car headlights coming down the ramp and screamed, "HEY!!" I grabbed them girls and led them to the edge of the ramp cause the driver warn't slowing down for nobody.

We reach Knurl's car and I help the girls get inside and immediately Chastity passes out in the passenger seat, so I'm thanking everything's gonna to be alright. As I start driving home, I hear Chastity mumble "I need to throw up." OH GOD...So I'm like: "Okay, let me roll down the window for you." As I say this vomit just starts streaming out all over the inside of the car. I then say "Try to stick your head out the window..." She don't respond and continues to drown the car in puke. We finally arrive to my house and I help the girls in, and suddenly it's weeks later and Knurl's car still has a funny smell to it. Knurl is loadin' his rifle. Chastity's settin' on the hood laughin', "The gift that keeps on giving!"

That's the last sound I hear. When I wake up drenched in sweat I am so happy to be through this dream torture episode. All familiar faces, some familiar places, all weirder than I'd ever want them to be. It's enough to make me wish to never go to sleep again. But I ain't gone do that cause I like my sleepin' times. When they's all normal and stuff and don't involve me getting' sucked down toilet bowls.

*****

To the quarry. The place we go for all thangs fun swimmin' and partyin' to have a set down on neutral ground. Shanise and Chastity went big on the idea so I was outvoted once more. Once in the tribe always in the tribe. I figger I got that goin' for me.

Sun is out hot and hotter and I'm dressed right for this adventure. Got my towel, my flip flops, my eyes ahead for gutter creatures and a thought in my head that says maybe thangs ain't as bad as they seem.

Yesterday is like a long ways back there now and this is a new day. Coming closer to our preferred picnic/party place and I can already hear the Voice of Haggis, Chastity and Melody. They's laughin' and ha ha-in' and thangs sound light n easy.

Until I turn around a cluster of big ol' boulders.

"This is a fine apple tree," says Hargis, "Apple trees are objects of beauty. They look so well in the spring all in white bloom, and then they look just as well in the fall, when the red or yellow apples hang among the leaves. And this is one of the finest I've ever seen."

He did not dream then that he should remember an apple tree his whole life, that an apple tree, and one apple tree in particular, should always call to his mind a tremendous event, losing nothing of its intensity and vividness with the passing years. But all that was in the future, and when he joined the others he made good work with the biggest and finest apple he could find.

Nestled in the rocks is a two-story wooden house painted white with green shutters, all closed now. The doors are also locked and sealed but on the portico facing south are two benches which the three girls sit on and look again over the great expanse of rolling country, dotted at intervals by puffs of smoke from the long lines of tailgate partiers. Where they sit it is so still they could hear the faint crunch of distant beer cans, and now and then the heavier crash of a person jumpin' on a truck bed. Thangs was goin' right wild.

I was enjoyin' watchin' this bubbling party setting when Melody yells to me, "Hey, Cord. Need some ice for the drinks and stuff. Would you be a doll and fetch some? Store's just down the road."

When love calls I am not slow so it's hip hip hip and away I go.

It was more than a hoot n' a holler to the road but I kept trudgin' along doin' my duty for Melody. Time kept tickin' slowly by till I thought for sure night would come and go leavin' me still on the hunt for ice.. But the more I thought on it the more ticked I was gettin'. Why should I, Cord the Slave, be goin' to get ice when I ain't the one doin' the drinkin'? And it was aggravatin' me somethin' awful. I swear steam was pourin' from my ears.

I was just thanking of turning back when I heard a rustling in a thicket to my right, and paused, thanking that it might be a deer. Instead, a gigantic figure with thick black hair and beard rose up in the bush. I let rip a startled "Sheeit." It was a crazy eyed feller, and beside him stood a little man with an evil face, hidden partly by an enormous flap-brimmed hat. Both carried rifles, and before I could say a word ol' crazy eyes fired and a searing, burning pain shot through my left shoulder. Dizzy and weak I heard another shot, and again felt the ripple of pain, this time in the head, heard a shrill whistle repeated over and over, and did not remember anything definite until a while after.

I sat down on the ground with my back against a tree, and put my right hand to my head. The wound there had quit bleeding, clogged up with its own blood. I was experienced enough to know that it was merely a flesh wound, and that any scar would be hidden by my hair or at least give me some great braggin' rights stories. And I wondered if Melody would like it, would thank it made me more desirable to her. I knew I was desperately reachin' for straws here but nothing ventured nothing gained.

But the wound in my left shoulder was more serious. The bullet had gone entirely through, but the injury was still bleeding. I made to bandage it with strips torn from my underclothing, and after a long rest I decided to walk back to the group. Ol' crazy eyes and evil face feller done up and disappeared. I reckon they figgered their work-whatever THAT was-was done. But I was not sure of the way and after two or three hundred yards I grew dizzy and sat down again. I shouted for help, but my voice sounded so weak I give it up.

I was never sure, but I thought another period of unconsciousness followed, because when I come to myself the sun seemed to be much farther down in the west though I knew it couldn't be. My head was still aching, though not quite so badly as before, and I made a new effort to walk. I din't know where I was going, but I must go somewheres. If I remained there in the wilderness and my friends could not find me, I would die of weakness and starvation. I shuddered. It would be the very irony of fate that one who had braved Chillamore, Knurl, the Mississippi, and Shiv Lynch should be slain on his way back from the package store by a rogue hunter.

I rested again and summoned all my strength and courage, and I was able to go several hundred yards farther. As I went on the forest seemed to thin and I was quite sure I saw through it a valley and open fields. The effect upon me was that of a great stimulant, and I found increased strength. I tottered on, but stopped soon and leaned against a tree. I dimly saw the valley, the fields, and a distant roof, and then came something that gave me new strength. It was a man's voice singing, a voice clear, powerful and wonderfully mellow:

They bore him away when the day had fled,

And the storm was rolling high,

And they laid him down in his lonely bed

By the light of an angry sky.

The lightning flashed and the wild sea lashed

The shore with its foaming wave,

And the thunder passed on the rushing blast

As it howled o'er the rover's grave.

I knew that voice. I had heard it years ago, a century it seemed. It was the voice of a friend, the voice of Harlo Bender, the singer of the mountains. I rushed forward, but overtaxing my strength, fell. I pulled myself up by a bush and stood, trembling with weakness and anxiety. Still came the voice, but the song had changed:

Soft o'er the fountain, lingering falls the Southern moon,

Far o'er the mountain breaks the day too soon,

In thy dark eyes' splendor, where the warm light loves to dwell,

Weary looks yet tender speak their fond farewell, Nita! Juanita!

Ask thy soul if we should part, Nita! Juanita! Lean thou on my heart!

It was an old song of sorrow and longing, but I remembered well that mellow, golden voice. If I could reach Harlo Bender he would secure help, and there was the happy valley in which he lived. As I steadied myself anew fresh strength and courage poured into my veins, and leaving the fringe of forest I entered a field, at the far end of which Bender was ploughing.

The singer was happy. He drove a stout bay horse, and as he walked along in the furrow he watched the rich black earth turn up before the ploughshare. He hated no man, and no man hated him. The war had never invaded his valley, and he sang from the sheer pleasure of living. The world about him was green and growing, and the season was good. His nephew, Silo Collins, was ploughing in another field, and whenever he chose he could see the smoke rising from the chimney of the strong log house in which he lived.

I thought at first I would go down the end of the long field to Bender, but the ploughed land pulled at my feet, and made me very weak again. So I walked straight across it, staggered, and approached the house. The doors stood wide open.

I was not thanking very clearly now, but I knew that rest and help were at hand. I opened the gate that led to the little lawn, went up the walk and, scarcely conscious of what I was doing, stood in the doorway, and stared into the dim interior. As my eyes grew used to the dusk the figure of an old, old woman, lean and wrinkled, past a hundred, suddenly rose from a chair, stood erect, and regarded me with startled, burning eyes.

"Ah, it's the great Stave Rimshank!" she exclaimed. "Didn't I say to you long ago: 'You will come again, and you will be thin and pale and in rags, and you will fall at the door.' I see you coming with these two eyes of mine!"

As she spoke, I reeled and fell unconscious in the doorway.

When I came back to the world I was lying in a very comfortable bed, and all the pain had gone from my head. A comfortable, motherly woman, whom I recognized as Mrs. Clemens, was sitting beside me, and Talbot Wheatley, looking very tall, very spare and very precise, was standing at a window.

"The couple shared extreme highs and lows over the years but couldn't stay together," said Talbot, stopping only to puff his pipe. "It's nothing short of shameful that folks cain't see to hang on tough when the going gets roughshod."

Mrs. Clemens rubbed my head and softly nodded. "Yep, reckon it's just the way of this wretched world. Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. God provides succor to thems who ask."

She looked over at me with a sorrowful tenderness that told me instantly they was tawkin' about my ma and pa. And I had to agree. It was a dang shame they couldn't see fit to hang on.

Talbot Wheatley was another old feller I hadn't caught sight or scent of in a whole mess of time. Reckon he stays hid in thesere hills. I was thankin' and thankin'. About him, about me, about my family and the crooked paths we'd come. Memories old and deep as the Mississippi. And immediately, a great sorrow passed through me. A sorrow that spoke of things lost and things forgot. A sorrow that cried to the heavens for God's help in my moment of need. A sorrow that could not for one solitary moment forget that I was a babe cast into the woods alone much like ol' Moses cept without the raft part. In two blinks I was cryin' like a newborn and hugging myself tightly as if I would explode if'n I didn't. I s'pose you could say my sins was gettin' purged right on the spot. I gotta tell you it felt dang good.

Mrs. Clemens set me up real good with some poultices and one itty bitty whiskey shot to help my healing. I thanked her, hugged her, and promised I'd make time to come visit again but we both knew I wouldn't. Then Mr. Wheatley offered to carry me wherever I needed to go so I telled him about the quarry where the group was waiting not bothering to mention any more about them fellers who plugged me. I reckon it's enough I ain't kilt or nothing so why go on tellin' the ugly tale.

He carried me out into the wild in his horse drawn wagon and it felt like I had stepped off the page of time and flipped back a few chapters to the last century or something. Just clompin' along hearin' the horse whinny and snort with the reins risin' and slappin' was enough to get me time travelin' to a place I never been before but sure as heck felt like home. The pure joy of simple thangs like ridin' in a buggy breathing the powerful scents of leather and horses. I could say I miss it but that ain't true cause it was still new to me. But for some reason it felt like my own. Kept on feelin' that way too until it was time to whip out the bucket and shovel. I had forgot that horses do tend to unload oftentimes on the trail. Cause I was illin' Mr. Wheatley took up the task hisself I'm happy to say.

"Hey, C. There you are already. Drinks are getting warm. C'mon on down!"

Haggis is wavin' at me and sittin' next to Melody whose under a towel layin' across both their legs. Chastity's a lookin' at me with an odd kinda expression that looks like she's bitin' her tongue. Once more the feelin' of somethin' ain't right whomps me.

Shanise pops out of the background and yells to me.

"You may not want to come up here, C. They're naked under the towel. Seems we interrupted something?"

So that's it. The smackdown. She blows kisses, he nets her and takes her. Pretty as you please. I s'pose now'd be the wrong time to yell, "Does that make it MY turn now Hag?" But I so so want to. With everything inside me. But cain't do it lookin' at her sweet face that no matter what looks as innocent as rain. She's not that way and I won't do her like that. I join Chastity and become the next person biting their tongue.

Then it hits me. She kinda IS that way. Ain't she like Shiv's girl? And wouldn't this act of war bring vengeance from Lynch World? Somebody's gonna get smited. This time it ain't me. Got that goin' for me too.

I hear motorbikes racin' in the distance and I'm thakin' it's weird they's out here racin' cause this ain't no racin' place. Then I hear it getting louder, and louder, and hotter, and spittin' wild pebbles at me.

SCRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEECCCCCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHHH!!

VAROOOM, VAROOOM. PUFF, PUFF, PUFF. BULIBULIBULBUL....

A big bike with a bigger Shiv slams to a stop right at my feet and for the first time my legs ain't shakin.'

"Well if it ain't old Skivvies Boy and his partners in crime. And who'd a thunk it'd be ol' Hag the Fag. Now what we got here is failure to communicate. And I gotta tell ya. SAY HELLO TO MY LEETTLE FRIEND!!!"

Shots rain down upon everybody who's duckin' divin' runnin' for cover as Shiv unleashes a firestorm of raging bullets into the once peaceful quarry of fornication. It's like Discovery Channel during commercial breaks. The untold story. Between feedin' and breedin' we have bleedin.' Don't know if anybody's hit but I cain't see much with my face to the ground. Shiv's standin' next to me firing everywheres and I'm thankin' he's fixin' to kill but as it don't sound like he hit anybody, he's either a peaceful psycho or a lousy shot. Then I look closer and see he's firing a paint ball gun, hitting everything in sight and bringing a psychedelic glow to the rocky landscape. He evidently prefers yellow and red ammo.

He slows down and sets to reloading. That's when Hargis jumps on him and drags him to the ground. There's punching and snarling and cussing and cracking and this front row seat is as good as it gets. I am surprised to see Hargis holdin' his own against Shiv and I gotta say that aside from maybe a solid punch, Shiv don't seen all so equipped as a all around fighter. Hargis is an athlete so he's kinda trained. But Shiv? He's a total street fighter which ain't all bad it just don't seem so good now.

They's slowin' and circlin' and trash tawkin' gettin' to the part where they stop or slow down set down calm down. But that don't happen. They's circlin' slowly stayin' in the Thunderdome.

"Stop, Shiv. Please? This is so unnecessary."

Melody's in tears and looking ragged as a rag wife. Her face is the sadness of all time and her hands are flailin' and pleadin' right along with her words. But ain't havin' no effect. The fight rages on.

Reckon it don't help matters much when the one who done you wrong is beggin' for mercy. In fact it seems Shiv has doubled up his attack.

"This one's for you, Welcome Wagon!" screams Shiv staring right at Melody, then wallops Hargis with a left hook straight from the pits of hell. Hargis flies backward into a boulder and lays there like a crumpled paper doll. Shiv is cussin' and spittin' and stompin' like a bull in rut. Hargis is rustling and startin' to moaning. But he ain't gettin' up just layin' there coughin' and spittin' blood.

"Stay down Romeo afore I decide you're too young to die but too stupid to live."

*****

Chastity, her back against the window frame, her fingers sunk in her big loose bosom, stared petrified at the TV screen.. A Waffle House employee survived without serious injury after three teens took off without paying and he clung to the hood of their car. The incident occurred in Murfreesboro and Ennis Evanston Waverly said he wasn't trying to be a hero, but climbed onto the hood when the driver tried to run over him in his escape.

During the five-minute ordeal the car reached speeds up to 60 miles per hour. Waverly managed to fish his cell phone from his pocket and call 911.

"Wow! That is like soooo awesome!!"

Reckon I don't know whut's goin' on anymore. Mebbe never did. Seems the whole Cord universe has gone topsy turvy so's I don't know which way is up. Had to check twice this mornin' to make sure my britches was on right side up and outside out. Me and Melody...well...we never got no further than a one way chase with me always fallin' behind and gettin' lost then SHOT in the wilderness. Still don't know what the hey was up with them two hillbillies. Reckon they's out to shoot a new version of Deliverance. As for me, I'm jes floatin' free and clear with no worries on my mind 'bout Shiv no more. Seems he got his behind sent up to the big house for some crap that had nothin' to do with normal school stuff and girl stawking so it sounds like he was in with a real real real bad crowd of stoolies who done him wrong seven ways from Sunday.

So for me the end is clear; Shanise is into me and I'm learnin' that I ain't got such a bad deal here. Like ol' Hargis-when he was my friend-said, "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, man. Shanise ain't half bad!" Yep, he was right on that one. Too bad he decided to jump into the "oh what a hottie" pool of Melody only to come out a whole mess worse off for his efforts and losin' a couplea teeth in the smackdown. When Shiv roundhouse punched him Hargis took it straight up in the mouth and lived to tell the tale of extreme survival after a Shiv attack.

Not exactly how he wanted thangs to end. Sure as heck ain't how I wanted 'em neither. But Melody...well, I reckon she ain't really girlfriend material for maybe any feller cause of her "gotta land every male fish in the sea" viewpoint which don't leave much room for security in the way of bein' her boyfriend. So if YOU have her today, you may NOT have her tonight and on and on it goes. Sounds horrible to me. Who would want that? Evidently lotsa fellers don't much care long as they get her attentions SOMETIMES. Ain't for me though. And I don't see as I'm askin' anything unusual or unrealistic. Thank about it. Gettin' up to the altar with this girl wonderin' the whole time if'n she's really gonna stick with the "forsakin' all others" part of the wedding vows. I tell you the stress would break me into a whole mess of pieces. Still, she is the most gorgeous looking of all the girls I know at least. But that ain't all there is to a girl anyways. In these matters it's Shanise who learns me good.

"A cat can't be anything but a cat. A dog can't be anything but a dog. And Melody can't be anything but Melody. Seems that's one melody that's always looking for harmony with another guy. Maybe ANY guy who's not on her "guys who want me" list."

"But that sounds kinda like-"

"A slut? Yeah, I told her that, as if she doesn't already know, but all I can say about that is she cares less about being a slut than about bagging any guy who doesn't fall at her feet. That there is one girl with a major problem."

"I reckon so."

"Hey, anyway it turned out kinda cool for you, right? I mean you got yourself two babes at the same time with one of those babes becoming your main squeeze. Seems like a win win to me."

I'd need to thank on that one but she's probly right. Like she is about everything. Shanise is one girl who's got her head on straight you might say. And Melody? Well she's one girl who's got her head ridin' between her legs, if you catch my meanin'. I fell into a social swamp I never knew existed. And I tell you whut, it's the dang hardest swamp to come unstuck from. Wears you down more'n any swarm of crocodiles. Good lookin' sights and such but they take no prisoners. Meetin' up with these girls you dang well KNOW you's lookin' for love in all the wrong places. Cept for one mebbe. The place whut has Shanise. Yep, I reckon ain't turned out so bad for me after all. Considerin' all that COULDA happened.

Just gotta whoop myself into believin' it. It's my time to be. There's no chance unless you take one. Nothing ventured nothing gained.

If'n I get to wonderin' too much on what happened with me and Melody, I have Shanise to learn me proper, "While today honeymoon has a positive meaning, the word was originally a reference to the inevitable waning of love like a phase of the moon."

Yep, the phasin' moon knocked our chance of love outta the park you could say. Course Shanise would remind me that whut was between me and Melody was not love but lust. I reckon she's right again. Lust often parades as "love." Shanise is sure on it. And I gotta listen seein' she's rightly earned the name Knuckles McGee. But that's another story.
