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The
wind was howling something fierce! One would think the Santa Anna winds
had moved to San Saba County in Central Texas. It had blown non-stop
for days at The High Lonesome lease and showed no signs of letting up,
not even for opening weekend of Turkey Season.
Good ole boys from every corner of the state had
packed their hunting gear, and headed to the hill country. Among the
multitude were my brother Marland, and my husband, Jerry. Great white
hunters never give up hope, and they continue with plans made months in
advance. No weather report is about to stop them.
To their dismay, there would be no “calling of the
turkeys” with the howling, blustery winds. When all else fails, hunters
can always concentrate on thinning out the wild hog population, or
taking out a few rattlesnakes, not to mention whipping up a few
artery-clogging meals and reciting tall tales while they hang out in
“the shack.” Yep, that rickety old building is home away from home, and
it is more than worthy of the nickname. Speaking of rattlesnakes,
they’ve been known to make their way inside “the shack!”
Even when hunting isn’t successful, supposedly
there is work to be done, such as repairs on deer stands and feeders.
One can only guess if there’s any truth to that, but it sounds good,
especially when those strong, male providers return home with no game.
Jerry and Marland had been waiting anxiously for
buddy number three to arrive. Oh, happy days! The more the merrier!
Besides which, Scott is known as the lease “Chef,” so he’s always given
a hearty welcome. His nickname really doesn’t seem to fit, since he is
6 ft. 6 in. tall and an X-Army Ranger. Regardless, he can cook up a
storm.
At long last, here came Scott, kicking up a plume
of dust as he drove over the rugged terrain. “Hey, Scott, we’ve been
waiting for you,” said Jerry, as Scott stepped out of his truck. They
shook hands, slapped each other on the back in typical male bonding, and
headed toward “the shack.”
Hearing voices, Marland rushed outside to help
unload. Soon they had the new supply of grub put away. Each grabbed a
Corona, kicked off their boots, and flopped down on their respective,
rickety bunks. They began catching up on the latest news, telling a
joke or two, probably a lie here and there, and then one by one drifted
off to sleep. It was “siesta time” at The High Lonesome.
When they awoke, a spectacular sunset splashed
vivid streaks of color across the big Texas sky. They decided to take
“Bubba Jeep” to the highest hill, where they could observe the changing
shades of the sunset as long as possible. And yes, even vehicles have
nicknames at The High Lonesome!
They scrambled to pull on their boots, not wanting
to miss a minute of the colorful event unfolding outside. Suddenly,
Scott froze! With a look of horror on his now very pale face, he
whispered, “Oh no, this is not good.” Reading Scott’s
mind and body language, Marland grabbed his pistol.
“Slow and easy, Scott,” Jerry advised. “Pull that
boot off slow, pal!”
Scott cautiously hobbled outside, and gently pulled
off his boot. He extended his arm as far from his body as humanly
possible, and then began shaking his boot violently! Then something hit
the ground, Scott jumped sky high, and if not for his belt he’d have
jumped right out of his britches! “What the…” he stammered.
The creature didn’t move, so Scott carefully inched
closer, only to discover an innocent gecko! “Oh my God, nothin’ but a
harmless little gecko,” he said trying to catch is breath. “Guess I
knocked it silly, as it’s not moving. Don’t think we’ll be needin’ that
pistol!”
Marland reached down, picked it up, and then he and
Jerry finally let go. They had nearly choked to death while trying to
stifle their laughter! Yep, it was just a simple rubber gecko they had
planted earlier. To think – a cheap Wal-Mart toy nearly sent the Army
Ranger to an early grave, and had the other two doubled over laughing
like boys in junior high.
Scott simply stared at them in disbelief. “All
that, and the blasted thing was rubber?” He didn’t say one more word;
he simply stared at them with a perplexed look on his face.
“Ok, fun’s over, everyone get your boots on and
let’s go. Sun’s gonna set before we get to the top of that darned
hill.” Marland was trying to hurry things along now; he had his new
camera with him and was determined to capture some priceless photos of
the remarkable sunset.
They dashed back inside, sat down, and began
“booting up.” When Scott got to his second boot, he paused, looked at
the others, and then gave it a good shake. Sure enough, out flopped
another scary critter; this time a snake!
“What the crap is wrong with you guys, anyway? Are
you nuts or just sick, very sick! I’ve about had it with
both of you.”
Jerry and Marland simply looked at each other with
their eyes twinkling. They had Scott right where they wanted him – in a
tizzy!
Scott began again, “I guess you know payback is
hell.”
There was a slight pause and no one uttered a
sound. “Oh yeah, and one other thing! Ya know the saying ‘that old dog
won’t hunt.’ Well guys, tonight this old Chef won’t cook!”
©2005 Kathleene S. Baker
Lnstrlady@aol.com
www.txyellowrose.com |
