When Trouble Came(Short Story- page 2)

 

     On Friday nights I’d run across god’s creation and pick up my underprivileged buddies who were scattered from one end to the other end of the county. We were young, green, and filled with mischief, and many nights after a football game we’ve head to Joe’s for a beer. Joe loved us, and always made us pour our draft beers in a red solo-cup even though there was something magical looking at those draft beers in those cold frosty Joe mugs; and Joe watched us too, made sure we didn’t drive too impaired, he did care, and would cut you off if you got out of hand, but for a 16 year old I could out drink anyone.

     Joe had his immense stereo system turned up high on Friday and Saturday nights, especially if he went into the green room where only the cabinet members were allowed to smoke the latest herb(marijuana) which at the time was usually Columbian Gold or some homegrown, and when Joe popped out of this room he had that gleaming faraway look in his eyes that smiled at every living abled body that walked by him, he routinely clicked that stereo dial upward several notches and he really went to work washing mugs, cleaning off tables, and tapping daft beer out like a beerslanging champion. His classical portrait with his blunt-end cigar hanging out of his mouth and those massive arms tapping a mug of cold draft still hangs in the Bluegrass Tavern Museum.

     I'd usually gathered in my buddies and sobered up with a draft of mountain dew before I got into my Vega, it was a job getting these cats back safely home, one end of the county to the other end was right at 40 miles. My round trip back home was right at an hour before I entered my mom and dad’s driveway, and I slept soundly in those youthful years too. 

When Trouble Came(Short Story- page 1)

 

     I just got my drivers license and paid in cash for a 1973 Vega from a dear friend of my dad's and it was so easy on gas, I literally checked the gas and filled it up with oil because it had an aluminum block and burnt oil at a premium. I just turned 16 and now needed some money to keep my car and life moving, and my first stop was at the Bluegrass Tavern. 

     I walked in this brand new juke joint and immediately met a robust, friendly, and generous man called Joe Lawrence Thompson, and I said, ”Hello, I'm Tim Hardesty, and I'd like a job.” Joe paused for a moment, and said, ” Well, Tim, can you sweep and mop floors?” I quickly replied, ” yes sir!” He looked back at me and said, ” you're hired, come by in the morning around 10:00.” I was ecstatic, my very first job and it was too easy, there has to be some catch, but I withdrew any doubt and shook his hand and told him I'd see him in the morning. 

     I drove back home blaring out from my brand new Pioneer speakers some old Aerosmith, Toys In The Attic, and I was so happy when I got home from the two-minute trip from Joe’s Tavern to our home to tell my dad that I had employment but he seemed unmoved but I wasn't going to let it bring me down today! My very first job was one of my grandest memories of my youth looking back now, things move so quickly and if you don't stop to appreciate the moments that define our lives then why live period? 

    The morning came quickly, I was ready to work, rather eager to get my hands dirty, and drove up to the Bluegrass Tavern, that many folks still call to this very day Joe's Place. I was handed a broom and started a sweeping this massive place, the walls were painted cinder blocks, and had a partition of a half-cut out wall strewn in the middle to separate the dining room from the pool room with barstools placed all along the half wall, so I swept first the booths that lined the right wall, and cigarettes and ashes laid everywhere, then I ventured over to the staple of the place- the pool room, these were very fine pool tables too, Joe showed me how to vacuum each table off too, and then behind the bar was mats that needed mopping and laboriously I finished mopping the entire place, but had to clean the tables off with some special cleaning agent, only to arrive at the most important job, cleaning out those nasty bathrooms, I still can smell that urine splattered everywhere but in the urinal, and I'll tell ya, drunkards are pigs.

The Pitching Sigil

 

     The lasting peccadilloes of magical symbols,

 signets of luring enchantment

     fall from the walls of Jericho resound the alarms of faith, 

allusions from Al-Aqsa

     begrudgingly separate Christianity, 

and the unending echoisms from Jerusalem foul

     afoot two-thousand years of ideology from some wooden decayed cross; 

all enamored 

     within mythology, now, a bestial glimpse of wars follow and 

record Christianity’s carnage, 

     trinkets of death align with the centuries in horrifical emblems, 

war eagles descent upon the 

     helpless, flaccid, and unarmed doves, the chronology of power, 

pushing out and replacing

     ideologies and one symbol as the only decorated truth, 

and the swells of time engulf every lie to hold fast 

     this golden fairy tale,  whilst sorcery impales 

the highest perjury upon some centuries-tokened wooden cross; 

     the knelt waste of money, propaganda, and time 

whirls through the cudgeled decadence to undermine

     one’s sacred freedom to liberate truth from mendacity. 

    - John Hardesty

©️ 9/18/2020

     

     

     

     

Laughter Before Disaster

 I could be 20 light-years from earth in complete stellar drift spiraling into the abyss and still receive this message: We've been trying to reach you regarding your car’s extended warranty. 

The Race Home(short story-page 9)

 

          My dad told me once before he died that if you ever meet or encounter a Blue Racer snake that very snake will follow you all way back home. I pondered this for several weeks but the snake never threatened me or our family yet if my mom ever found out that a 14-foot snake was living in her house in the basement she would have a cardiac arrest so, I had to kill this snake, and who knows if it's a female or male, there could be thousands more, I had a major dilemma upon my worried hands. One day I was coming outside, and there it was the 14-foot racer just sunning like some rock star on a beach but on a rock, in a split second, I ran inside and reached for my trusted 12-gauge shotgun and loaded it up and ran on the back porch and the snake saw me and it took off so fast I barely got a decent shot off, just wasn't enough time, that snake was super quick, like a Black Mamba. Damn, I missed and knew I was dealing with an incredible snake. 

         The summer went by so quickly, there's never enough time in the summer for our dreams to become realities in a small town where young men grow old quickly without the luxuries and indulgences of a young boy deprived of his inspirational goals. I was a man who lived in the moment and opportunities seldom come to those who are passive and not quick to act. You see, you grab, or you live with nothing, my mantra. I finally found a job carrying bricks and mortar all day in the hot Kentucky sun, it was a back-breaking job and when I got home I was dead tired, usually went straight to the couch, with my beloved dog right beside me.

          The weekend was near, and I drove my Cutlass Salon, and it was fully loaded back then, air-conditioning, power windows, plush seats, the works, and could out run any automobile. So, I was getting off work and just got paid and wanted to have some fun, but had to come home and clean up, but as I got out of my car I noticed a movement in my left eye on the front lawn, it was that 14-foot racer and he spotted me and took off, I chased him to the corner of the house and down this little mouse hole, it almost sunk in the earth, though, I got my hand on its tail, and I yanked it completely off its bony skeleton and I was so elated, I killed it, but this saddened me too, we had zero mice for almost two years in that basement, now they come in like they own the place in the winter but I can deal with a mouse just not a night stalking serpent that watches me while I sleep.

                                                                The End

       

The Race Home(short story-page 8)

 

          This bazaar behavior from Tara went on for over 10 months, she still awoke me each night growling and barking back into the night, but when winter came Tara’s odd exploits ceased. I was relieved and I finally got some peace and quiet, I was a very light sleeper, I could literally hear a mouse urinating on cotton in the dead of night, so this extra full uninterrupted sleep was rewarding. Tara was hit by a car one morning, and I thought it broke her leg, she limped and grimaced for over three months, and you would figure after being hit by a truck previously she’d be extra careful but miraculously she came around, I loved my Tara. 

          I decided to do some Spring cleaning in the basement one day and we had a huge basement too, as I was moving everything from the walls, and you wondered how so many spiders and bugs could ever crawl in from the cold in one year, this was astounding, and I dusted and mopped up each wall and every nook and corner, then by some weird coincidence, I started in on the ceilings which had that pink irritating insulation, now, it was filled with cobwebs, spiders, and thousands of cocooned spindle of bugs, I managed to dust away the grime, dust and insects, but then removing a slab of that irritable insulation there it was, the most frightening thing I’ve ever seen for quite some time, it was a twelve-foot shedded snakeskin, I was livid with consternation, I had to find this snake and wondered if it was venomous or just a common garter, bullnose, milk, or black snake? I searched and searched that basement when a fine tooth comb and never found that snake. 

     Later on that night sleeping with Tara I finally figured out why Tara barked and carried on each night now, it was that damn snake, I just imagined that thing crawled on every quarter of that basement, it was so unsettling to think the snake was just a hairsbreadth from my bed if not wiggled inches from us while we both slept. This made my sleep uneasy, but I knew snakes are dormant or hibernate in the dead of winter, so I rested and realized if the snake wanted me it could’ve already had me, and doubt if the snake could ever get by Tara, my loving watchdog. 

The Race Home( short story-page 7)

 

          I was sound asleep when suddenly Tara started to bark towards the dark side of the basement where the bathroom was and I thought did I leave the basement door ajar? I got up half-sleep and checked the back door and reaffirmed my conscience, it was locked and safe, so I laid back down beside Tara, but she was so distressed, very edgy for some uncertain reason, so I got up again turned on the lights and Tara walked in there with me to let her see that no one was in there, and I thoroughly rechecked every corner, and we both snuggled up and fell into a deep sleep until morning. 

          I usually got up and and ran two miles before I ate breakfast, Tara usually stayed on the front porch until I came back off the hill toward our home and she greeted me with the most passive eyes of any creature on earth, she was so acutely keen on everything, very little ever got by her. I showered and ate some cereal and fed Tara. We adjourned again to the basement and watched some morning banal shows and called it a morning.

          I was bored through out the day so I decided to head to the Rolling Fork River, a short jaunt of a mile through the bramble and mire, but it was always worth hearing the river’s quiet ripple run her recourse like she’s done a billion times, the quietness alone with nature was soothing because nature wasn’t always docile and forgiving, for she can be a lover, preacher, or a butcher and she can be them all at once. I love my woods and animals, nature has always been kind to me with her limitless solitude.

          We headed back and Tara never veered away like most Beagles do, she was always faithful to me and me alone, I guess the moment when I saved her life she realized I loved her. I jumped the five-foot fences like nothing for exercise and I laughed because Tara always just slipped through the woven fence so effortlessly and managed to always lead our way back home, she knew the trail better than me but a few times I’d hide behind a tree and she would stop and come back and find me, our little game we played endlessly.