HD novella

[SassyFrass]

Sassy sipped the Muckalee creek water and let it trickle down his throat. It started getting a little warm just about his chest and then warmed its way down to his belly. A sign of real good likker, like he'd been taught as a kid. No mouth burn from too much sugar and not rough like shine run too fast. This likker was made by someone who cared about the product, more than he cared about profit.
"Mr. Bob, that is some good likker. I appreciate it. But now you just point me at what you need done, so I can get to it."
Mr. Bob said he reckoned firewood always needed chopped, so Sassy went out behind the barn into the woodlot. Interesting, all seasoned oak, hickory, and ash. And a smaller pile of seasoned dogwood off to the side. Sassy split enough of the hardwood to last Bob quite awhile and split enough of the dogwood to run a couple hundred gallons off.
Seasoned dogwood gives off less smoke than even the hardwoods, especially if it's split right, but the very small amount of smoke was why folks have used dogwood for their stills at home. Sassy split the wood just like he'd been taught as a kid by his pa.
Sassy then went ahead and fed and watered the stock and ricked up a few bales of hay so it'd be easier for an older fella with a sore back to get to.
By this time it was getting on to dusk, so Sassy cleaned up in a water trough.
Mr. Bob, who'd been watching him work, recognized that Sassy wasn't a stranger to hard work and seemed to enjoy it, but when Sassy took his shirt off to clean up, Mr. bob couldn't help but notice the scars.
Setting back on the porch, taking another snort or two, Bob looked over at Sassy and said, "Those scars of yours show me you done seen the elephant." Sassy looked somewhere a 1000 miles away and said, "yes sir, I seen it, then I got on it's back and rode awhile," "Although I think it may have rode me a time or two."
"Mr. Bob, would you mind if I bed down in the barn loft?" "I do appreciate the fine dinner and I'd like to get your morning feeding done before I head out."
Mr. Bob allowed that would be fine, but they might as well have another snort or two before turning in.
Sassy was up before can see and already had all the stock fed and watered, more firewood brought in, and a bit more hay and feed set up, easy gotten to.
Sassy was strapping on his bedroll when Mr. Bob came out to say goodbye. Sassy said, "I appreciate everything Mr. Bob, but I need to head on down the road a ways." "I appreciate the good food, great company, and the sleep."
Sassy stuck out his hand and shook with Mr. Bob, Kicked the old girl over, then headed down the gravel road.
Mr. Bob walked back to the porch and noticed a full quart jar of likker sitting by his chair. Hand written in marker on the lid was two words, pain medicine.

[HDNB]

I am conjuring up a free spirited college runaway hippy backpacker to wander into this story. I guess we are still sorta in the mountains of Southern Colorado near the infamous Pagosa Springs. I couldnt get a location from above.

still finding the legs of the next chapter, can be whatever you want. it would be awesome if you could get a runaway hippy backpacker wedged in here somewhere.
the idea of an actual story line or a "goal" is counter intuitive to the creative process. just like "ending" the first book...it was not an ending, just a turn of the page.

no one can control the story; it spoils it. I loved sassy's add, it gave me a paragraph. maybe i'll get more. if you see in your mind's eye. let it go and write! if not...read!

currently i see jesse and the boys next door to Bob and Sassy. maybe that Camaro goes racing by or maybe Disa rides through on her way to TB's to get a riding lesson or help with calving season. I can't tell you how many times i modified my view to the "first" chapter.

Your story can be written alongside, interwoven, prior to or in the future of. it can stand alone or be a crossover to someone elses thread. personally i like the idea of picking up on the previous entry, but thats just me. write what moves you, and maybe it will move someone else to greatness.(you did catch SC bringing Pogo to life right?)

let's quit talking about what it should be, could be, what i want it to be, what you want, where it's going or where it's been. just write a line, or a paragraph, or three.

posting while sassy was writing....great work! keep it coming!

[goinbroke2]

GB , this isn't all gearhead fantasy /movie bullshit . Many of us have been writing realtime about what we or our families have done instead of fantasy .
i'm not sure , at this point , whether I will continue to contribute here or dust off some of my old manuscripts and submit some for publication for my own benefit .
>I will definitely back HDNB to help him to fill the first 'Novella' to completion .
>If you want to turn book 2 into a hot rod novel I suggest that you read some of William Campbell Gault's novels .
>Those of us that were involved with REAL shining didn't play all these Hollywood games .
>My uncle Marvin Collier's farm was one of the pasture field race tracks where NASCAR was born .
>Muscle car and driving skill were handy if you got noticed ....... Not getting noticed was a MUCH better option .
>One hell of a lot more likker got delivered by the drivers that didn't get noticed than the ones that made the papers in some spectacular chase .
>(Patoo : terbakker spit from 'The Bench') Boy , you got to have just a smigin of truth in the lie you are fixin to tell to give it some credibility .

Actually these names I came up with are kids from where I grew up and the heavy chevy was paul wormels car, the vitamin c gtx and Boo's demon(or duster I forget now) were also cars we raced. Gail Ramsey was my girlfriend that I left when I graduated and moved 200miles away to work in a lumber mill. While I did have a still at 14 and did get my cousin to haul hockey bags of pints to school to sell, (pints cost $8.00 and we sold ours for $5.00) we never delivered any likker anywhere by car so that's all made up. I agree, better to be slow and quiet (like in a non-descript wagon) but I just thought a car chase here and there would be interesting. Other than Mel (Mel Moir was my automotive teacher in 11 and 12) who just blew past a cop, there hasn't been any chases yet. Others will even out the story, my side was all cars that's all. We raced stockcars until the track got shut down, then raced on the street, then finally drove 7hr's to the nearest dragstrip to race. If there were snowmobiles in Pagosa Springs I could throw in lots there too, racing and cruising. (and drinking) On my mother's side four of her 6 brothers died from being alcoholic's and to this day My one aunt makes wines and shine. (and has been since the early 60's) They (and me too I guess) make likker to drink, I don't think anybody ever sold any, there might of been bartering, and a home beside one of my uncles was busted for having a still/shine/etc but I forget what happened now as I was only about 10-12 when that happened. But you or some others on here do have roots to moonshiners and delivering large loads in cars etc etc, but up here that was never the thing, you made your own and shared it at the kitchen table. Everybody brought there own. Actually there was a lot more homemade beer and wine than shine....and guitars...lots of guitars/fiddles etc at the kitchen table. (which was covered with beer bottles and wine/shine bottles)

Hope you do contribute, you have a way with words.

[corene1]

Little Sarah was born from that one quick night with Jed so many years ago, He turned out to be a decent man after the fact but he was a wanderer and couldn't set roots with anyone or anywhere for that matter. He lived in town for awhile and Corene lived in her old cabin just out of town by the river, she felt it would be best for little Sarah to be close to town and help if need be. Sarah was a spittin image of her namesake and was a quick learner. When she was 7 Jed moved on and Corene had made the decision to move the both of them back up to the old cabin in the Skodies. Little Sarah was a feisty but gentle hearted soul that loved the mountains and the earth like it was her second mother. Most all the kids made fun of her because of her nature , but that didn't bother her at all , she had her mountains and rivers to keep her company. Time passes as it always does and Corene was sitting on the porch watching Sarah out in the garden , she couldn't help but notice the beauty that radiated from her daughter not to mention the quiet confidence that was so evident. She was so proud of her daughter , Sarah was so talented with the bow, more so than Corene herself, she could move through the forest without a sound , she just seemed to effortlessly blend in, this was her home and her love. Sarah , come sit with me for a while , She waked up and sat down on the porch with her mother . I saw that big buck up on the high ridge this morning early. I worked up to within 20 yards of him without him even getting a scent from me. Sarah, have you ever thought of leaving the mountain ? No Ma was the instant reply , this is my home and this is where I will stay , I just don't like all the hustle that is going on down in the valley now, everyone seems to be pushing and shoving to have more and they don't see what they have right under their noses. I guess time does change things but it hasn't changed up here and I hope it never will. When we need something nature provides it for us and in return we care for the Earth to keep it healthy, It is a balance we have up here that only few know about and can appreciate. Corene could see that she was wise beyond her 19 years and this made her a shining jewel in her mothers eye. Yes Sarah we are wealthy beyond measure up here. In the distance she saw 2 horses coming up the trail. Sarah ran to great them , Hi Flatwood's , good to see you TB , Come on up to the house and I will get you something to drink. Your momma got any of that special 5 grain hid away ? Yes sir she does come on in and rest yourself for awhile . The two men went and sat on the porch with Corene, and Sarah brought out the bottle and 4 clean glasses . They spent the afternoon talking and reminiscing about the past ,Sarah loved these stories it somehow connected her back to her heritage and where she had come from. She started a little fire in the fire pit as it was getting close to sundown and a chill was coming on. The 4 of them sat there in silence as the sun slowly slid down under the ridgeline . No words needed to be spoken, it would have ruined the moment. After the sun went down Sarah jumped up, I will get some dinner cooking, I bet you both are starving. I got some fresh blackberry pie for desert . Sounds mighty good young lady . You have done real good raising that one, you should be proud of her. I am my friends, she is my love, and god forbid anyone from doing harm to her.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2TQ0CSw5j6E" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;" rel="nofollow

[HDNB]

A plume of dust rolled off the back tire as Sassy enjoyed the freshening of the day. He made his way to the Highway and had turned east into the rising sun. The pavement was a joy after many mile on the gravel secondary and he rolled on power around a long curving bridge that had a sign "Muckalee Creek" posted on it's edge.
Clearing the far side of the bridge he was startled by a quick movement at the side. Rolling at over 60 MPH he only caught a quick glance of the hippy throwing his backback over the guardrail. Long ringlettes of blonde hair hung loosely from under his red dew rag. The man was unshaven and hard to recognize but their eyes connected for just a moment. Sassy had a flash of recognition but it faded fast as the road switched back to a left and large truck was bearing down.
The image of the hippy evapourated as quick as the glance and Sassy focussed on keeping the bike on the straight. It would be a few days before the memory of the young man's eyes popped back into his mind.

[rnw349]

One lazy afternoon FS was setting on his front porch, thinking about how he came to be at Pagosa. He had made friends with the local folks but he never really felt like they trusted him. He regretted Corene, and the pain and misery he had brought her. He was happy for her to be able to live back in the skodies, with her daughter Sara. The winnings from the horse race had helped her to be able to live a nice life without having to worry about getting a job and leaving Sara at home alone.

He had always thought that someday he might meet someone and have his own family. He kept to himself and didn't get out much to meet new people. The town folk knew him and what he did before, they were polite, but never had forgot.

He was lost in his thoughts and then noticed someone coming up the drive. He didn't recognize the stranger. FS wasn't a man to frighten easy, he touched the .45 in his pocket. He had a double barreled shot gun hanging on the porch that was easy to get to when he stood up, he put his hands on it like he was stretching and rested there. When the young feller came up he had long curly hair, a red rag around his head, and a back pack. FS told him to stop there, who are you, and what are you doing in my yard son?
The young guy said just passing through Mr. I don't want no trouble. FS had one hand in his pocket clutching his.45, and the other still hanging on the shotgun, he always expected that Chicago would come back for him someday. Maybe this is the day.

[goinbroke2]

"Well" Jesse started "I think your right Mel, I'm gonna have to just use this one as a spirit still and built a bigger stripper if we want to get the volume we need" Mel laughed "Haw,haw that's the first time I've ever heard you say you wanted a bigger stripper!" grinning Jesse put pencil to paper and tried to figure out the size he would need. Going backwards he figgered 40 gallons a week going to Dulce and Chama, and 40 or more to Durango....so carry the 3...add that to the top..."You doin special sipherin or somethin?" Mel said in a down south accent "don't forget your "goesinta's". "Ahh shaddup you" Jesse said in his best Archie Bunker voice. They both laughed, then Jesse sat back "ok, so here's what I got, this still is 100 gallons that I'm using now, if we built a 200 gallon stripper that would leave us about 100 gallons of low wines per run the way it's goin now. We need to double our fermenters and with a still twice as big as a stripper to feed it we should..." Mel cut him off "That's what I said before all your writing, just double everything and we can feed both places, stop making it so complicated." "All right, we'll take the truck and go pick up material, let me figure what we'll need" and Jesse started scribbling again on the paper.

The sheriff was hiding behind his billboard watching traffic when he saw an unfamiliar black car. Lights on, tires spinning, IT WAS GO TIME! "Son of a bitch ain't gettin away this time" the sheriff snarled. As soon as he hit the pavement with the lights on the black car pulled over and stopped. The sheriff swung wide to miss the stopped car and overshot it by 4 car lengths. He rammed it into reverse and smoked the tire as he went back behind the car again and pulled in. Pulling out his service revolver he walked up to the single occupant. "Hands where I can see them dirtbag!" The woman was in her late 60's and shaking like a leaf. "Officer, I swear that was the first time I've ever tried it, I have glycoma and it helps, I'm terribly sorry please don't throw me in jail, I promise..." The sheriff holstered his gun "Lady, is this your car?" She nodded yes and he walked to the front of the black four door comet and popped the hood...six cylinder...no way it was her or this car...he closed the hood and walked past her saying "get moving lady, your free to go."

Jesse decided to send the boys on the errand so Loki and Bro jumped in the 62 cabover Ford 2 ton they used for hauling hay and all the other things that had to get done on their farm. On their way home they had just come to the muckalee bridge when they saw a guy thumbing a ride. Loki stopped and asked the blonde hippy where he was going and got a "anywhere's is groovy man" Bro looked at Loki with a "you know we can't take him to close to home, right?" kind of look. Loki called out the window, jump in the back, we only got two seats up here. "That's cool man, thanks" Bro looked at Loki "what are you doing? where are you going to drop him off, you sure as hell ain't taking him home!" Loki just smiled "never hurts to help someone out now does it?" They drove to the intersection where they had to turn onto their road and Loki pulled over. "This is it, you'll never get a ride if you go on this road so you better jump out here. "sure man, that's cool" the hippy said as he jumped down from the flatbed "Peace man" he said as he turned and started walking. "Hey, he's 20 miles closer than he was before" Loki said "Not neccesarily, he don't even know where he's going!" Bro said laughing.

They got back to the farm and unloaded everything into the barn. Jesse started drawing circles and marking up the copper sheets. 200 gallons was going to have to be a submarine type still heated by wood. When finished they'd put it just up stream of the spirit still so everything could flow by gravity. Jesse had an old trailer with logs on it, or so it appeared. The centre of the logs were all cut out so it just made an closed box, Jesse would "drop the box sides" and drive the tractor and trailer into the woods, then when he came out, it was a load of logs, all sides up and the top on it looking exactly like a load of logs..unless you knew what to look for and was close enough I suppose. But for 20 years nobody ever saw or even cared what Jesse was doing. When he was voted out of office because of the town getting all shot up so long ago, he went back to the 400 acres that was his daddy's before he passed on.

It took a few days of round-the-clock work but finally they had it done, now to get it to the stream. Since the flatbed had a hoist on it, they loaded the sub onto it and drove it back into the woods. With the flatbed lifted and the winch in the back slowly wound out, the sub on it's skids was lowered into place on the cinderblock base. Once that was done Bro used the bucket on the tractor to bury the whole thing with just a spot for the lyne arm to attach. Underneath was all cleared out and a flue was built in clay as well. Once it was all done, unless you knew what you were looking for you wouldn't see it. The stream dropped through the trees here at a rate of 10-15ft every 50ft or so, so, Jesse ran some ABS pipe into the stream quite high up the hill and buried it all the way to the stripper where it came up out of the ground with a tap on it. They had a long piece of copper that ran from the lyne arm into the water and down to the spirit still. With buried drains draining back into the stream, the whole thing was a work of engineering art. "Well boys, let's get the sacrificial run done and get this puppy up and running!" Loki drove the flatbed back to the barn and loaded a couple 45 gal drums of wash then drove it back into the woods again. Things were looking up...

[ranger_ric]

Banking up his cooking fire with the dry dirt Ric rolled his sleeping bag out under the glistening evening stars. As he stretched out the hunger in his belly reminded him of the long difficult path he had chosen to "find himself" Although quite handy in the woods and of knowing the direction to go, Ric had been horribly unlucky in securing the calories he needed to stay the vagabond he wanted to be. If you are gonna walk 5 miles a day that takes energy. If you are going to hunt that takes time.
Ric looked up at the stars and thought about why he was here. Six months ago he had finished his Junior year at Colorado School of Mines. His marks were exemplary and he was well on his way to being the engineer his parents knew he could be. However deep inside he could not see engineering to be the adventure and challenge he so desperately needed. He went back to Boulder to start the semester with $7000 in his account from good ole dad. It was for books and tuition and rent and life. That moment when he decided that books and tuition and rent and life werent worth the $7000 he headed down to Pearl street to the little outdoors shop. Ric found a top notch Kelty backpack and a decent stove and the rest of the gear he might need for "Doing Something Else".
He was sure they had found his car by now, and the note he left in it. A part of him wanted to call his Dad and thank him for the opportunity to set out on this adventure. The sights he had seen. The wildlife that he had experienced. Those two Cougar males lashing out at each other to stake their claim, all within 50 feet of Ric as he rested on the trail. The Lightning on the ridge that night which turned a two foot thick Ponderosa into 2x4 splinters, steaming in the moonlight. The Persius meteor showers he viewed from the rock outcropping. Streaks of light across the night sky every 20-30 seconds, it took his breath away.
Oh it had been hard at times. Topping out on Grand Mesa shortly after the afternoon rain to find the trail had been turned to slick sticky mud. It had stuck to his boots until they weighed ten pounds a piece. He could scrape the mud off but within 3 steps it was all back like weights tied to his feet, and just as he thought he could go no further he saw an eagle soaring overhead and his spirits were lifted reminding him that this was EXACTLY where he wanted to be.
The cold night air was drifting in and Ric tightened the sleeping bag around himself as sleep overcame him.
As the birds started their chirps and songs and the light started to push away the darkness Ric awoke ready to see the sun rise for yet another day. He threw his pack together ready to roll and prepared his sling to try and get at least a squirrel or a bird before he set out on the trail to today's adventure. As he was watching the trees for movement he heard movement behind him. Slowly,purposely he turned to face the movement. A rabbit was pushing through the pine needles nibbling on the grass shoots that had pushed through. With small moves of his wrists Ric got the sling turning and delivered his projectile accurately enough to drop the rabbit. Ahhh this morning we eat.
After that fine breakfast Ric headed out. Down the hill a little ways to the creek that his map called Muckalee. Strange name he thought but the drink the creek offered up was truly refreshing and like nothing he had tried before. Ric decided to follow the creek down to wherever it went. Sadly the creek came upon a little blacktop road and the culvert was not big enough to get through. Ric climbed the bank up to the road as the sun really began to share its warmth. At the top of the hill Ric dropped his backpack and dug around in the top pocket for his bandanna. Well worn and basically red with streaks of grey salt through it, the bandanna was like his name tag. An old farm truck wandered by a the driver seemed to glare at Ric. Ric smiled and wondered how the fella could judge him in that 5 seconds of eye contact. Taking a long pull from the canteen of Muckalee creek H2o that washed his palate the steady roar of an open pipe motorcycle grew in his ears. As Ric sat on the guardrail an old Harley came lumbering around the curve to cross the bridge. By now Ric knew that spirit of freedom he saw in the bearded guys eyes and Ric threw him a peace sign as he lumbered by on the mechanical horse.

[rnw349]

After the boys dropped him off, Ric walked on down the road. It was late afternoon and he was tired, and hungry. He came to a long driveway and saw a man setting on the front porch of the house. Ric walked up the drive to see if he might be able to work for his dinner. The man on the porch stood up and stretched, placed his right hand in his overalls front pocket, and left his left hand on the header beam of the front porch. He was tall and slender wore a sweat stained fedora hat. The man told Ric to stop there. He was close enough, asked him what he was doing in his yard. Ric knew this was a hard man, and told the man he didn't want any trouble. He said he was passing through and was hungry and tired but was wondering if there might be something he could do to earn a meal.

FS stood on the porch looking down at the kid, kind of felt some pitty for him but not much. There was a war going on over seas, and boys dying, and this one is out yondering around. What's your name son, where you from? Why are you out yondering around?
Ric, recognized that the man was former military because he reminded him of his own father. He said sir, my name is Ric, I was a college student up in Boulder, my dad is retired from the Air Force and I have a brother in the marines, my family wanted me to go to college. I wanted an adventure so here I am.
FS satisfied with the kids story, took his hand down from the shotgun and pulled his right hand out of his pocket and said I'm FS, take your backpack off, and that rag and come inside. I was just getting ready to start dinner for myself. You like backstrap, son?
FS told Ric a little about himself while fixing dinner, told him about hunting in these parts and was surprised to learn that Ric was a outdoorsman. In truth FS was glad to have the company. He had plenty to eat, between hunting and a raising a calf to butcher every year there was enough meat, and then he gardened with and for widow Johnson, she had better ground and he took his chicken and cow manure and tilled it, planted and worked it, they both had more vegetables than they could eat.
After dinner FS brought out a mason jar, poured Ric a shot and handed it to him. They sat in living room by the stove as the nights were cool, and had a couple drinks and talked. FS asked Ric where he was going, how long he was going to be around. Ric told him he didn't know, he was just passing through and offered to chop wood or something for his meal. FS told him no, he had enjoyed the company and if he passed back this way again he was welcomed to stop by. FS told him he could sleep on the floor by the stove, only had one bed and he was damn sure not sharing it with Ric. Morning came and FS drove Ric to town and dropped him off.

[goinbroke2]

They had a dilema, if they put the lighter springs in that Mel gave them, it would work better on the strip, but wouldn't be able to carry anything, if they left the heavy springs in it could carry, but wouldn't work at the strip...what to do, what to do. "We've been using the wagon and that's been working ok, do we really need to haul shine in Betty? Loki asked "It was needed before Jesse got the wagon fixed up, but now?" Bro was thinking too "You know, we've been chased in Betty many times, both hauling likker and not, but we've never been chased in the wagon have we? Something to think about right there huh?" They talked to Jesse about retiring Betty from hauling likker, he was fine with it as he knew Betty would be the kind of car cops would stop regardless, two young guys in a hopped up Camaro...yeah he agreed the wagon would be a better cover.
"So Betty'll just run you two to school?" he asked "And wherever else we decide to go" Bro threw in with a grin. That settled they left the camaro on the jackstands in the garage and Loki pulled the wagon into the barn to be loaded.

Mel had been gone a few days, he pulled in and parked. He knocked twice as he stepped into the house "Hello, anyone home?" Getting no response he wandered over to the barn where he heard Jesse call him "Mel, go put a pot on I'll be in, in a minute. Mel swung back around and went and put a pot of tea on. "Sales are great!" Mel said as Jesse came through the door, "Durango is a bigger town with a bit more money so I upped the price a bit" Jesse stopped and looked at him "hold on now Mel, don't be doin stuff like that without talking to me first ok?" Mel was taken back a bit "Jesse, there's money to be made, let's make it, you know, what the market will bear will set the price right?" Jesse poured some canned milk in his tea "No, we're not getting greedy, right now I have all the market share I can handle, if I arbitrarily raise my prices, that leaves a spot for somebody to sneak in under me and I ain't having no war over likker. No, we'll keep the prices what I said, we're making good money, no need to be greedy." Mel was kind of put out "Never thought I'd hear you say that Jesse, I thought you'd be happy I got a bit more for your shine. Heck, my pension from the school is pretty small and this extra scratch I'm making is really appreciated. Jesse sat down across the table from him and waited a second "Mel, you know how much money I have saved up for Loki and Bro to go to college or university? 15 grand, EACH! You know how much I give to the shelter every year? 5 grand! I got lots of money, that ain't it for me. I'm trying to make amends in my own way for what I did to the town when I was running the show. I was mayor here and let things get outa hand, I'm doing more for the community now than I ever did back then. It ain't all about the benjamin's Mel." Just then they heard the wagon idle out the driveway and turn towards Dulce. "Them boys is learning not only responsibility, but courage and how to think on their feet. No way in hell do I want to lose them over a bit of money in a war." Jesse finished his tea and rinsed the cup out " All the money in the world won't another second buy" Mel nodded his head, "alright, you've convinced me Jesse" He finished his tea then said "well, let's go load my car up alright?" They were almost finished loading the car when Mel asked "how come we take liquor all the way to Durango, Chama and Dulce, but you don't sell any in Pagosa Springs?" Jesse sat the last gallon jugs down and pulled the tarp over them. Turning he looked at Mel "Same thing as I said before, I dealt enough trouble to that town, they don't need my likker, sides, Jimbo supplies the town and I'll respect that."

[ga flatwoods]

The briefing was quite extensive. We had the villa under observation for quite some time now but the facts were solid. For some reason my little voice kept telling me something g was different about this one. I tried to ignore it. We had known for days where we were going and why. Of the necessity for the mission I had no doubt. I MUST go. It is what I do. The others look to me to be there for them. We are a team. In fact we are THE team. For what we do there are none better. There was no doubt that this is what must be done. Everything is mission critical, as always. But this time there was the check, recheck, check again, and a last time. Leave something meaningful, have your peace with God, check your gear again, and your brother's as well. Did he have everything, was he ready, had he prepared as well as he should have? All these things had to be solid before we departed. Check it all again during the blackness of the flight. I was ready but the voice was screaming at me. Paranoia now? After so many times of doing this same thing? There was no time. I was ready and the team was as well. I knew the objective but the target was a valuable asset known only to two.
We boarded at 0230 hrs. As had been my practice once airborne, I took the door and rode the tops of the hills and trees with the door gun between my legs. After all I came off the door for my current job. It was as old school to me as throwing a beer bottle out of the truck window back home attempting to hit he road signs. I was damn good and didn't miss, back then or now. I had scattered whole villages and left my assault across half of the territory. Sometimes I could see the look on their face and know if the were or weren't. Sometimes I saw the second of impact in their eyes, other times I did not. I didn't care, I was there to do a job. Sometimes the surgeon, sometimes the butcher, but always a part of the machine bending and swaying with every crisp turn pitch or roll- a cowboy that couldn't get off on an eight second ride. I smoked. Camels mostly, non filtered, or, whatever else was appropriate for the occasion. Funny how a cigarette glow can be seen so far at night. I quickly learned how to cover it and hide it from the night spying eyes always gazing upward as well as the turbine wash. There would be only the ride tonight no sparkers from the port.
We let down without a landing, as normal. The bird was quiet among the tree tops once over the hill. Damnable place here. Reminded me of I-10 Louisiana. Flat, flat land for miles. The Marshes of Glynn by Sidney Lanier came to mind. Stalks of rice, dikes, and water for miles. Except for our destination. As the sun cracked we were upon it, looking like everything evil that could have been provoked by the devil himself rising up out of the marshes. The compound was heavily guarded. A nice villa not to be expected in the middle of this marsh wasteland. Palms trees and lush green grass around the perimeter walls containing the villias and our target. This was a recovery mission. Kill what we had to and return with the target. Simple in and out. As it was still more dark than light the entry was easy. Two on the wall and one in the compound. It is when we broke into the facility that the target became known to all. WE WERE THERE FOR ONE Of THEM! He was bound to a chair, beaten near dead but still alive. WTF! With all the training I knew better but broke silence. How many of his brothers and sisters had I killed, we killed, killed us? Now we risking an entire team for one man, one of them! Seems he was a high value target and sympathetic to our side. The uppers needed him home and alive and we were there to do just that.
He had to be toted between two of us. Uneasy going and difficult for such a small man. I had flank. One, two, then another before we cleared the compound. The third let a muffled gurggle as he died. The team was well across the villa now point being at the patties. Run. Damn you run! About thirty yards out the first shouts from the villa and bullets. Stop, aim squeeze squire next target do it again. Shit too many now. Run you fuckers run! Chopper in bound. Right assistant toting took a hit. Damn! Get up! Get up or die, they're coming for us! He is up here we go. Some on board one runs out to relieve me. Jack manages to get to a grabber and on board. They are pouring out like ants now. Cover fire is needed for those closest. I run up against a palm and add a new clip. Spin out, turn, shoot, spin, reload. The chopper is getting pelted. I turn and shoot some more. Clip expired. Running for the bay door. It is only eight feet off the dirt but flanking hard left. A hand reaches out. The cabin pitches hard. J U M P!!! I jump. The grounds are full of 7.62x39. Where did they all come from?
I hope he was worth it!

[HDNB]

Chris read and reread the letter from his brother. It was crazy shit he was up to in those jungles. burning rice paddies and watching the cockroaches run. His monologues read like a killer adrenaline rush on blow.
Chris was geared up, jacked up and ready roll. He smashed his fisted hands into the table and cursed the chair he was in. Tears ran from his eyes as he thought of his younger brother out there, kickin ass and takin numbers for uncle Sam and he was here, tethered to chair that offered limited mobility in his small world. A shitty decision two summers ago...turning the key after getting heavy into the moonshine after Suzy had dumped him.
"Fuck!!!" he yelled at the world and beat the big oak table some more. The regrets ran deep and when his brother's letters came in the post, his heart broke. It broke for the guys he could be out there helping, it broke for the freedom lost. The adventures he had dreamt of as a young boy would remain just that...fantasies beyond his reach. All the good he wanted to do was reduced to....to THIS!!!

Poppa Bob entered the kitchen and saw the anguish on Chris' face. It hurt him badly to see the boy like this, then suddenly an idea came upon him...
"Chris" he said "I met a young fella yesterday, he came 'round last afternoon runnin' late into the day on one of them old war Harley's the army had me patchin up for the boys back WWII. He was a decent young fella, I think you would have liked him, chopped some wood for me and chored up all the critters this morning. Anyway, when I saw what he had done to that bike...modified and and cleaned up...it made me think of you... and how much I'd like to get to buildin' on a bike. I was wondering if you'd like to hep me. Maybe we could fix one up for you too?"
"What the fuck would i do with a bike poppa?" Chris looked down at his legs and slammed his fists into his thighs.
"not a bike, son...a trike!" Bob said. "we could make a landing platform for your chair! It would give you an easy way off this old farm. Whaddya say, gimme a hand? one for you and one to drag my old bones around?"
"I Think we'll have to put bigger springs on it if we're gonna make one for you pops" Chris replied with a smile.
Bob was relieved to shift the boys mood. it would be good to get the kid out of the farm house and get him using his hands.Give him a purpose, and frankly give him a purpose too. He had been sitting around too long and his old back was paying the price, he needed to get out and move it!
"I'm gonna give Jimbo a call. See what he can round us up for some raw material. I think he's got some good connections back in the city."
"now, you gonna offer an ole fella a drink? Or do i gotta walk out to the truck to get us one? Bob said.
"Sure pops. sit down, I'll get you a whiskey." Chris gave him a conspiratorial wink.

[goinbroke2]

Disa and Gail were riding the horses from Jesse’s, up the powerline to the highway then had planned on crossing the road and carrying on to Karen’s. That was the plan, but when they got to the highway they saw the sheriff’s car backed into the trees. “Howdy sheriff” Gail called. Not getting an answer they walked over to the car and looked in, there was the sheriff “sawing logs” as Jesse would put it. “You ok sheriff?” Disa said which made the sheriff jump and turn on the lights and siren, causing the horses to bolt before settling down. Turning the lights and siren back off again the sheriff barked at them “what do you think your doing? You want me to run you kids in? Get out of here!” The girls looked at each other and giggled “GET OUT OF HERE!” he shouted again. The girls checked for cars then sauntered across the road. “What the heck was that all about I wonder?” Gail said “Don’t know” replied Disa “but it sure looks like he’s after something bad.
Just then Mel drove on by about 5 under the speed limit. They heard the roar of the car and the siren as he tore out of his “hiding spot”. The car was still fishtailing and throwing rocks as he went by the girls, a rock getting Gail in the shin and peppering the horse as well. Screaming she grabbed her leg and then got off the horse, blood running down her shin. It was a nasty gash, a big rock had got her. They rode back to Gail’s house in the dirt on the side of the highway at a gallop. They were both screaming as they turned into the long driveway so by the time they got by the barn everyone was coming out of the house. Gail’s father loaded her into the car to head for the hospital, she would need stitches, that was for sure.

Mel had a full load and was cruising along just below the speed limit. He saw the girls on the horses on the side of the road and slowed a bit more and pulled to the other side to give lots of room. Just as he started to wave he heard the siren. “Where the heck were you hiding?” he said aloud. He went from idling along in fourth to second gear and he mashed the throttle. The car shuddered and the front end lifted from the force, bottles clinking together. Taking it to 6000rpm in 2nd and 3rd he was well past 100 by the time he shifted back to fourth. He only had about 3 miles of relative straight highway before he’d have to slow for the turns, which were quickly coming up. The gumball was getting smaller and smaller in the mirror when his scanner came alive. “dispatch, 3 Adam 6 in pursuit of black sedan heading south on highway 160, at highway marker 217 over”. There was an immediate response “3 Adam 6, dispatch, continue pursuit, 3 Adam 4 what is your location?” there was a moment of silence as the squelch was turned up quite high on his radio, then “Dispatch, 3 Adam 4, on 160 at marker 300, will set up road block, over.” “3 Adam 4, dispatch, roger that out to you, 3 Adam 6 did you copy that?” “Dispatch, 3 Adam 6, affirmative, continuing pursuit, out”. Mel grinned, “well, well, setting up a roadblock are we? I think maybe I’ll avoid that then, lets see, 300, that’s just this side of Bayfield so perhaps I’ll take a drive on Bayfield Parkway and miss that little stretch of road boys.” He had slowed for the turns and had lost sight of the sheriff following him, luckily the roads were fairly deserted and traffic was easy to manouver around. Coming up to the turn off, he dropped a gear and was on the brakes without breaking traction, he didn’t want fresh black marks giving him away. He travelled along the road marked 35 doing 70mph. After the houses it went to 55 as it was also a parallel highway marked 160 as well. Clear of traffic he again watched the needle nudge 110mph until he joined on to the original 160. “Haha, route marker 314, you missed me boys” he laughed as he slowed to 75 for safeties sake as the road was getting more congested the closer he got to Durango. He wondered to himself where the sheriff was hiding and why did he come after him, he was driving below the limit at the time, somebody tip him off?
Mel started to think, who would do that… He drove straight home and loaded some into his wife’s Valiant. “Well this is as inconspicuous as it goes I’d think” he laughed and headed for the first bar to make some money.

“Dispatch, 3 Adam 6, unable to locate black sedan, he’s gone, over” “3 Adam 6, dispatch, roger that, continue patrolling, out”

[S-Cackalacky]

A shithouse rat lives in filth because that's what it's accustomed to. It simply adapts to its environment. And so it is that if a man is plunged into an unfavorable environment, he will adapt and survive – that is, if survival is in his nature. There was a sayin' in Vietnam, “don't mean nothin'”. I'm guessin' that THAT sayin' came from coping with survival in an unfavorable environment. A man who wants to live will cope with the most unsavory of circumstances if he's determined to live to the next moment, and then another, and then another … The comfort of the past is a dangerous trap to pull you deeper down and away from seeking the next moment. And, pining for anything beyond the next moment will most assuredly rob you of it.

Jeff Bernbaum had landed at Anzio and fought his way up the boot of Italy. When his unit made it to Monte Casino where they were hopelessly pinned down by the Germans hold up in the rubble of the bombed out monastery, he lay in a muddy hole behind a rock for the better part of a week – pissin' himself because exposure to relieve himself would have gotten him killed. Thoughts of those moments and hundreds of others like it raced through his head as he sat in his 1950 GMC truck in the parking lot of the Pagosa Springs bus depot. He saw the bus turn into the far end of the lot and pull up to the depot door. People began filing out of the bus. A young man stepped out dressed in a khaki Army uniform with a big red one on one sleeve and the spec five rank on both sleeves. He walked almost casually across the parking lot taking in his surroundings. He tossed his duffel bag into the back of the truck, opened the passenger side door, slid onto the worn brown leather seat, closed the door, and said, “Good to see you Daddy.”. The old man returned, “Glad you made it home.”.

Two years earlier Jeff had pulled into the same parking space at the bus depot to see his son, John, off to his induction into the U.S. Army. At that time, few words were exchanged between them. Jeff just told his son, “Boy, you take care of yeself.”. As his son opened the door and slid off the seat onto the parking lot, he said, “See ye later Daddy.”, and sauntered off toward the waiting bus. Jeff and his son loved each other dearly, but expressed it quietly.

As the truck pulled out of the parking lot onto the road out of town, John took a glance over at his dad. He was smiling and tears were rolling down both cheeks. John nodded his head with contentment and turned his head to look out the window at familiar sights that he remembered from what seemed like a lifetime ago. It was all familiar, but somehow didn't seem to be real. His hand moved to the seat beside him expecting to grasp the M16 that had come to feel like a part of him. A feeling of discomfort and uneasiness came upon him.

During the Vietnam conflict, the government, in its ignorance, or its stupidity, or both, pulled young men and women from a commonplace environment of fear and anxiety and plunged them into an unfamiliar environment of what they perceived to be normalcy. Kinda like moving the shithouse rat from the shithouse to a five star hotel. It might like it's new digs, but it's still gonna act like a shithouse rat. Not more than two weeks ago John was crawling into a tunnel with a 45 pistol in his hand moving on his belly, one arm pulling him along and then the other – not knowing what to expect from one moment to the next and thinking, “don't mean nothin'”.

[Truckinbutch]

Don't Mean Nothin' , Don't Mean a Damn Thing ! Didn't mean nothin to flying sargent Delmas Townsend when some runty assed little dink popped out of a rice paddy and stuffed a RPG through the belly of his UH1B into his ass . Bad luck on the next best day to die for Delmas . We buried him beneath the willows alongside Gordon Dean Perry and Dave Kovak . Nobody came back unscathed from the South East Asia War Games that was our senior trip . Politicians made us second place winners . Embarcation on another aircraft , for me , will be at gunpoint . Unless I choose to die rather than fly .

[goinbroke2]

Drinks poured Jesse and Mel were sitting in the shade of the barn and Disa had left a plate of sandwiches beside them. "so what's with the wifes valiant..not gonna make a run in that I hope?" Mel laughed "no, been driving that for two days now, got the wife to drive the torino and twice she was stopped and the car searched." Jesse sat up a bit straighter "what the hell?" "Dunno" Mel continued "somehow the car was tagged as a shine runner and now it can't move around Durango or anywhere this way without being stopped and searched." "Paint it?" Jesse offered "Naw, gotta figure out what happened so I don't make the same mistake twice."

An older pick up pulled in the lane and they sat there with their drinks as it got closer. the truck turned so the driver could talk out the window. "How you doing" Bob call to Mel and Jesse "Pretty good Bob, haven't seen you in a spell, you in a rush?jump out and have a drink" Bob looked at the passenger then got out. Jesse pulled a bail of hay over to sit on, offering his seat to Bob. "Chris, got one for you too" he said as he walked around the truck. "c'mon, sit in the shade, get out of this truck for a minute." Jesse knew not only the story but helped pull the wreck out of the woods with his tractor the next morning. Seeing a young guy cut down like that, even if it was of his own doing was hard to watch. Jesse didn't feel any pity for him though, that was wasted energy. He pulled the chair out of the back of the truck and opened his door. "C'mon, I ain't carrying you to my whisky" he said with a smile. "Thanks Jesse" After wheeling him into the shade he grabbed his drink and sat on the bale. Bob had poured himself and Chris each a drink. "So what are you guys up to?" Jesse asked
Chris answered "gonna build a bike, a sidecar like rig for me, wondering if you have anything over the hill?" Jesse thought for a moment "you know, Loki and Bro and half their friends are always going down over the hill so I hardly know what's down there anymore, but whatever's there you're welcome to it." Then turning towards the house he yelled "DISA!"
He continued, "there was some hogs and an indian or two down there, the indians are pretty well raped by now, I think there was a couple of them brit bikes in the back of the schoolbus all tore apart, I don't know....DISA!" he yelled again. "Damn girl with her music blasting" Jesse got up and walked to the house "I'll find out where Loki and Bro are, if there is anything around here behind anyones barn or over a hill, they'll know it".

After talking to Bro on the CB and finding they were just up the road the four of them got in the pick up (Jesse and Mel in the back) and drove around the barn. Jesse noticed Bob took the long way around, purposely to avoid driving by what was left of Chris's 67 Cougar. They were only there a few minutes when Betty came roaring down the hill sideways sliding around and throwing dust, Loki and Bro having a ball. A quick look turned into more and more questions and then more talk..finally Jesse said to Bob, c'mon, let these kids figure out what their doing, my mouth is getting dry. Jesse and Bob wedged into Betty for the drive up over the hill, "see you boys later" Jesse said "good to see Chris out and about Bob, he needs that." Bob frowned "don't I know it, it kills me to see him like that, but it is what it is, Lord givith and the Lord taketh away" As Jesse turned the key off and they struggled to get out around the rollbars, he looked over at Bob "hows the other one making out over there?" Bob shook his head "damn, he's in the middle of it. He writes different letters to me and his brother, for me he's pretty casual about things, but I've read some of the stuff he's sent to Chris...holy hell Jesse, he's really in the middle of it."

When the truck came up the hill Mel was driving and Bro and Loki had a couple forks and a pile of junk so high you couldn't see the wheelchair. "What do you want for all that" Bob asked "A handshake and I want to see a smile on that kids face when he's driving it" Jesse replied. Bob smiled, "you're a good man Jesse" Jesse laughed "easy now, you'll ruin my reputation as an asshole!" "No chance there" Mel piped up. Jesse walked over to the window of the truck as they were leaving "don't be strangers, I got lots more junk you can haul away for me" he said smiling "See ya Chris, good to see you again."
Just then Jesse noticed Bro coming around the end of the barn in the 2 ton with an smashed up VW bug in the back "where is he going with that?" he asked aloud. Bob called out the window as he drove away "we're building a three wheeler instead"