Monday, April 20, 2009

"Saturday" (pg 6)

Instead, I landed on his back. I quickly grabbed his neck and made an attempt to bulldog him. He came to a stop when I'd suddenly popped up in his line of vision. Sitting down where he stopped, he took hold of my arms and easily pulled my grip apart.

He then picked me up in a fireman's carry and brought me over to the side of the mountain. He searched for a minute until he found a particular spot, then dropped me on my ass. Waving his finger as a warning, he then whistled three short blasts, followed by one long blast.

Within a few seconds I heard a distinct rumbling from the mountainside. Softly at first, it soon grew into a mind-numbing-drown-out-the-sound-of-your-own-voice rumble that was designed to put the fear of God into you.

Next thing I see is the bear waving goodbye to me. Then I hear a mighty roar. Then blackness.

When I came to, I once again found myself completely buried. Not just in branches and twigs, but with rocks, dirt, mud, grass, leaves, and pine sap as well. Groggy, I managed to free my right hand and stuck it out from the pile.

I felt someone pat my hand a couple of times before they said through the small opening, "Don't you worry none, somebody will be along shortly to help dig you out. Having a sparkling day and remember, it's not nice to fuck with Father Nature's extended family."

I thought to myself, Gee thanks for the reassuring hand pat, I'm sure it was the very most you could do for me.

Imagine my surprise when the unseen voice said in a tone dripping with contempt, "You betcha."

Sure enough, about fifteen minutes later, someone happened upon a huge pile of mountain debris. Imagine his surprise when the pile started to move in his direction and imagine the look on his face when he saw an arm waving at him from under all the debris.

"Holy smokes!" said the man as he started to back away from the pile of debris. I raised my hand and gave the universal gesture for 'stop'. Then I quickly turned my hand and waved him over before pointing down.

He knelt down to where my arm was sticking out and peered in. Peering back was a face covered in pine sap. He sat back for a moment, scratched his head, then peered back in to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

I cleared my throat and in my brightest possible voice, I asked, "Could you give me a hand in getting out? Just giving my arm a good yank should do the trick."

"Well..." said the man, who really didn't want to get this involved in helping me.
"It'll only take a minute of your time, and then you'll be able to go on your merry way, I promise."
(c)2009 GBMJr. All rights reserved.

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