Eye of the Reindeer

     When my sister Courtney and I play ping pong, it gets intense. A Christmastime game led to this parody of  "Eye Of The Tiger" being created

(Intro, bells for two measures, then the electric guitar jumps in.)
Verse One -
Risin' up, back to the sky
It's my team, on the team
Went the distance, now I'm back on my hooves
Just a buck, living out his dream...

Verse Two -
So many times, it happens so fast
You trade your passion for glory
Don't lose your grip on the dreams of your past
You must fight just to keep that joy alive...

Chorus One -
It's the eye of the reindeer, it's the thrill of the flight
Risin' up to the challenge of the elves
There's that one set of presents that needs to get out tonight
And he's watching us all with the eye of the reindeer...
.
Verse Three -
Face-to-face, out in the cold
Hangin' tough, flyin' hungry
They stack the odds, still we take to the sky
For the thrill of the squeals of delight...
(Chorus)

Verse Four -
Risin' up, straight tot the top
Had the guts, got the glory
Went the distance, now I'm not gonna quit
Just a buck and his will to please kids....

Chorus Two -
It's the eye of the reindeer, it's the thrill of the flight
Risin' up to the challenge of the elves
There's that last set of the presents that needs to get out tonight
Santa's watching us all with the eye of the reindeer....

The eye of the reindeer...
The eye of the reindeer...
The eye of the reindeer...
The eye of the reindeer....

Horsin' Around - Part Two

     Part two of this story.

Tussle was looking for somebody to talk to. She found Slinger in the corral behind the barn.

“Hey Sling, what’s up?”

“Nothin’ much, what’s up with you?” he returned the greeting. “Somethin’s on your mind, what is it?”

Tussle frowned. “How do you do that?”

He switched a fly away. “You’ve got a certain look.”

“Oh. What’d you think about Cyclone?” Tussle launched into her lead-in question.

“Huh?” He knew what she was driving at, but wanted to make sure.

“Well, doesn’t it seem like she likes messing with me and Misty? Like, humiliate us or something. And that deal with Rex, what'd you think of that, kind of weird, right?”

“Well,” he started. “I’m not sure. Seems to me like she’s just trying to fit in, find her place here. It’s hard when you get inserted into a new herd, and have to readjust your position and everything. And she hasn’t exactly had too much help in breaking in, ya know.”

Patriot entered the doorway, facing Sling.

“With Rex…no, I don’t think that’s weird. Seems like a bad idea, but perfectly normal. I also think you might be just the tiniest bit jealous.” continued Gunslinger.

“What - ! I am not!”

“You’re talking about my sister.”

Tussle spun around. “Uh…well….yeah.” she admitted, ner nerves too jangled to come up with an alibi.

“Cy’s just trying to fit in. She’s lonely.”

“Yeah?” This was a new idea.

Patriot looked at Gunslinger, questioning. He nodded.

“Yeah. Well, ya see, we’re part paint, part quarter horses, broke to herd cattle. We were both pretty good at it. But Cy…she loved something else. Can’t all be workaholics, I guess. She fell head over hooves for racing. I kind of did, too, but not as much, mostly just along for the ride. She was pretty good, best racer of all our girl’s friends’ horses, even won some real races. And she was likable, and sort of pretty, I guess. Hard to tell when it’s your twin you’ve seen every day of your life. Anyway, she was popular, had lots of friends. But then one day – one day she was on her way into the barn, and somehow the door swung shut, trapping her tail. The vet had to amputate it. She got a fake tail, but…it’s like the people who seems the happiest are those hurting the most. She’s always been kind of sensitive, kind of….fell into a depression, I think the people call it.  Didn’t help that some of the fillies she knew laughed at her prosthetic, or that Emily had to be doing something called studying constantly.

“She felt like someone had placed her inside the body of some filly named Cyclone; she’d known the other horses, cows and stuff, but now it was like a different world. And nobody knew, cause they just saw the same Cyclone as ever, she felt like an outsider, watching her life go by without actually living it. Emily went somewhere called college, and if we got ridden at all, it was to work. It wasn’t challenging anymore, all the fun seemed drained out of it. We were finally sold to a horse trader, and after about three weeks we came here. You’re Tussle, right?” he broke off abruptly. She nodded.

“Thought so. You and Misty’ve been acting like we have some kind of disease or something, West Nile.”

“We have? Um, well…yeah.” she ended lamely. “Yeah, we have.”

“She’s been through a lot. We both have, really. Hope you feel proud of yourself.”

“Well, I gotta go, Tussle,” Gunslinger excused himself, going with Patriot to scare turtles down by the fishing pond. They walked off.

Racing…thought Tussle. Racing. Yeah….it might work… “Guys! Wait up! I have an idea!”

They strolled over. “A good one?” Patriot jabbed dryly, impatient to get going.

“Shut up. Okay, here’s what I was thinking…”

…

“You want to do WHAT?!” Misty exploded. Tussle quickly sketched out Cyclone’s story as best she could. “Hmm…I don’t like it…” grumbled Misty. “Please?” Tussle begged. It was that tone she used, that just has to be agreed with. Quiet, urgent, serious. Misty sighed. “I guess we could try it…”

…

Meanwhile, Patriot was having an equally hard time convincing Cyclone to race, although he was trying a different angle. “It’s called the Rusty Barn Derby, it’s held every – three months, I think,’ he improvised rapidly. “It’d be fun, why don’t you enter?”

His sister’s eyes had an empty look to them, where you’ve let out all the tears that you have. If horses wore makeup, they’d need some dark eyeshadow. “I don’t feel like it anymore.”

“Cause of your tail?”

She whirled around, eyes laid back. “Yes, because of my stupid tail! And, and – Well, I don’t know anybody, and they despise me, and I’m just – Scared!” she sobbed.

Patriot just looked at her. “Just think about it, all right?”

Cyclone rolled her eyes and gave a non-committal snort.

“I’m trying to help you here.” He walked over under a tree to take a nap. “Move it, Ferdinand, will you? Thanks, dude.” As an afterthought, he added, “Rex is sort of hoping you’ll enter.”

Her ears pricked up. “…Really?”

“…But I don’t know why he’d want that or anything. Probably just invited us to be polite. I mean, it’s not like we’ll win or anything. We aren’t fast enough.”

A dirt clod lifted itself out of the ground, helped by Cyclone’s hoof. “Did you just use that word about me?”

“Which word?” he asked unconcernedly, used to her frequent mood changes.

“The S-word.”

“Not that I know of,” he replied innocently.

“Are you calling me ‘slow’?” she asked, right up in his face.

“It got your attention, didn’t it?”

She shook her head. “You know me too well, bro. What’s the track?”

“Not sure…I think it’s starting at the blackberry bushes, turn at the fishing pond and ends at the south field gate.”

She smiled. “All right. I’m in.”

Luckily for Patriot, there had been a Rusty Barn Derby before, although nobody could remember exactly how many editions had taken place. Rex and Tussle estimated between nine and seventeen.

All nine horses gathered around by the bushes Puppy Cat sat off to the side on Penelope’s back, waiting for the seven racers to get set. “Ready….set….go!” she meowed.

Cyclone, Gunslinger, Misty, Tussle and Patriot all burst out of the starting line, bunched up together in a tight pack. Tanner cantered along, content to finish the race, and Rex, who had gotten sidetracked watching Cyclone and missed Puppy Cat’s command, hurriedly barreled to a gallop, hoping to at least pass Tanner. Penelope and Milky Way ambled along, observing the scene.   

“’Lord, what fools these mortals be!’” Penelope quoted Puck’s line from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, watching Rex sail by. “It makes a good show for us old girls to watch,” Milky Way reminded. “It does, yes.” Puppy Cat yawned. “You guys still aren’t cats, so why try to be?”

The lead pack had just passed the pond, trampling flat the hay stalks that were trying to grow. Cyclone led by a head, Tussle in second, Gunslinger in third at Cyclone’s left flank, Patriot a half-length behind in fourth, Misty about a quarter of a length behind him. Slinger slowed to a trot. “Ow…side stitch.” Patriot grinned.

Stay with Patriot, and you’ll have a chance…Misty told herself as they gained on the two leaders, who were scowling at each other from time to time. This is insane! How can she keep this up? Tussle wondered as they tore toward the finish line fence. They’re weakening, Cyclone’s competitive sense told her. All systems go. To Tussle’s dismay and Misty’s amazement, she actually increased her pace, her mane streaming and black-and-white tail flapping in her self-made breeze as she rocketed toward the target. “My turn, sis.” Patriot closed the gap to a reasonable distance by the end, a gasping Tussle and Misty eight lengths behind them.

“How’d they do that?” Tussle panted.

“Practice!” Patriot laughed, only breathing a little harder than normal.

“Can you teach us how to race like that?” Misty asked shyly.

“Sure, I can do that. When d’you wanna start?
            “When would be a good time for you?”

“Why not now? C’mon, Tussle,” Cyclone smiled. The three of them trotted off to practice. “Congrats,” Slinger said. “It worked,” Patriot sighed, with the relieved grin of someone who wasn’t sure whether a risky plan would turn out.

Cyclone was entered into the race at the fair, winning it after overcoming a bad start and then pulling away. She not only won that; but the suspicious glances and tension gradually disappeared as the old enemies became friends.

One spring day, later in the future, Cy gave birth to twins, named Pistol and Pete, another Cowboy entered the world with Tussle’s help, and Misty’s new foal blinked up at the big new world.

“Kinda wobbly, aren’t they?” asked Patriot, eyes dancing.

“Dirty, too,” replied Misty, licking Aggie all over.

“The Filly Gang rides again!” Penelope exclaimed, sending the assembled crowd in the waiting room of the barn into sheets of laughter.

“I wonder if they’ll set the barn on fire,” Milky Way teased.

“That wasn’t my fault!” Tussle complained from her stall.

“They might let the cows out,” grinned Tanner. Cyclone glared at her.

“Or maybe they’ll pour water on somebody who’s taking a nap, eh, Penelope?” Rex lobbed his way into the conversation.

“Sorry, Mom…” Misty muttered.

“They’re kind of like double twins…’ mused Gunslinger.

“Quadruplets, you mean?”

He nodded.

“Not really….just born on the same day, all of ‘em.” Milky Way pointed out.

“Yeah, that’s what I meant.”

“Look out world, here comes the Quad Squad!” Tanner hollered, throwing the place into hysterics again.

‘That. Is. Awesome.” Patriot choked out when he could finally regained some of his breath. “We’re gonna have to use that.”

The Quad Squad grew, and they, being rambunctious, fun-lovign adolescents, cause quite a few frustrations and headaches with their mischief, much like their mothers’ antics before them. It made for a lot of interesting Critter Stories that Linda would jot down to tell the boy. Like the time they decided to mess with the truck, for example.

 Linda was busy shoting water moccasins down at the pond, and the fishing truck was istting there on the bank, waiting patiently.

“I’ve got a GREAT idea!” Cowboy said gleefully. “What?” “I wanna hear!” He told the others. “Awesome.” Aggie grinned. “Sounds good to me!” Pistol agreed. “I don’t know…” Pete hesitated. He usually acted as the group’s conscience, and as he was smaller than the others, he was actually cautious when it came to hijinks and mischief. He was usually ignored.

“It’ll be fun,” Aggie protested. “Well, okay….” 

The four of them meandered over to get a drink of water, then they shoved against the tailgate, rolling the pickup into the mud, where it soon stuck. And besides, Linda was marching towards them yelling things that sounded unpleasant. “I think we’re in trouble.” said Pistol.

They were.

“…So, since you’ve shown that you can’t be trusted to act responsibly…” Cyclone wrapped up their lecture, trying hard not to look at Misty and Tussle, who were cracking up. “She used that word,” Pete whispered. Cowboy rolled his eyes. “Told you.” “Shut up.” “…You’ll have to stay by us for a few days.” Cyclone finished. “Aww!” Pistol muttered. “I knew that wasn’t a good idea…” said Pete. “I’ll say,” Aggie agreed gloomily. The mares went off to discuss grown-up topics, like punishment, or schooling methods, or something equally boring. “Wouldn’t that have been FUN?” whispered Tussle, eyes gleaming. “I wish we didn’t have to grow up,” Cyclone said wistfully.

Eight years went by.

Linda and Floyd both passed away, Betty rarely came to the farm any longer, except to feed the remnant of the feline tribe that still hung on. There were only four or five left.

No dog ran through the fields, and the pastures were being steadily overgrown by thistles. The truck just sat there in the driveway, no one drove it any more.

Cows no longer drank form the pond; there weren’t any cows left.

Somebody painted the barn white to cover up the rust stains, it looked awful.

The garden was bare of any growing vegetables or fruit in the trees, the weeds were waist-high.

And Misty was the only horse left. The others had died, or were sold at the sale barn, or given away to horse-crazed 4H kids.

Everything was in disrepair, threatening to fall apart any second. A state of gloom asd sadness hung over the entire farm. Brush piles were arranged in crazy collections from where the ice storms had left them, the fences were in indescribably bad shape.

But memories still were in good condition, and Misty often spent the days recalling the good times she’d had there. The boy did, too.

And that made it okay. Not perfect, by any means, but it was a little easier.

They were sad, but okay. 

Horsin' Around - Part One

            These horses were always running around in the back pastures of my mind; they came to life when I was about eleven, and several drafts of this story later this story came to be. This is the first part. 

            Once upon a time, near a town called Westville, there lived a small herd of horses. They stayed in the pasture during good weather, and in a sheet-metal barn with rusty places in it when it rained. They lived on a farm inhabited by stupid cows, a bad-tempered dog, blackberry bushes, broken-down tractors, a large community of white and calico cats, and three nice people.

            Sometimes a lady people would come and visit for a few days, or other times another lady people would visit for a few days, and bring a little boy people with her. The little boy would ride the horses or fish, or read books and play something where he tried to put a ball into a round thing attached to a tree. Since the people seemed to enjoy these visits, the horses did, too, and these times were pleasant ones. They enjoyed living where they did, on the farm.

After turning onto Morris Road off Highway 62, you drove by the auto body shop and past Jerry Carter’s chicken farm about half a mile, where you’d see the driveway on the right, bordered by persimmon trees. It was a slightly curved gravel driveway, but it somehow gave the impression of being straight. On the right, you’d see a small white and pink house where the man and the older lady lived(their names were Floyd and Betty). Otie, who lived in the backyard, was his usual irritable self, there was also an empty fifth-wheel trailer he shared the yard with, and a porch swing. Just outside the gate, you’d find the burn barrel, a patch of waist-high wild onions, the little house where Betty kept the things she’d found over the years, and the shop, generally inhabited by two or three lounging felines. 

On the left, you’d see a brown and yellow singlewide trailer, which is where the younger lady(her name was Linda, she was Floyd and Betty’s daughter) stayed when she wasn’t working at the library. Just behind that was the garden, where corn, onions, lettuce and cucumbers grew, shaded by the apple and peach trees along one side. Farther along, past the two working tractors and five parts tractors sitting around, and past the fishing car, a 1982 Chevy used to drive down to the pond, you would come to the barn.

It was impressive, in all its large width and height, coated in bluish-gray armor streaked with orange-red; it contained stalls, a floor coated with hay, there was the saddle room, and the loft, full of no telling what all interesting surprises. A corral of weather-beaten old boards enclosed the back end, which led you to the field gate, where the first thing of the 160 acres you’d notice(besides the cows, cow pies and trees) would be a trail well worn by truck tires, which if followed would take you to the blackberry bushes and the good fishing pond.

This front pond was full of catfish, and on the banks were good skipping rocks and sticker bushes. There were also snapping turtles and water moccasins in the muddy water, which Linda shot with her .22 every chance she got.

This was the world the horses knew; now to describe them. Penelope was a middle-aged palomino known for her gentle ways; Milky Way, who had a natural gift for telling stories; her sire was Moby, the most legendary non-human resident that ever lived on the farm. Rex was a crazy one, but he had his good points as well. He was loyal, and he’d try to help his friends out if he could and any of them found themselves in a tough spot. Gunslinger was an ex-rodeo bronc, he was good pals with Rex. Tanner was odd. Her coloring was different, bay markings interspersed with egg nog. She was always a little skittish, and overall a hard personality to figure out. And, of course, we can’t forget Tussle and Misty. At that awkward stage where no longer fillies any more, yet not quite mares, either, they usually got on each other’s nerves and caused headaches, thought they had some undefinable likable qualities in them.

One story, which might give insight into the characters of both Tussle and Misty, should appear here.

It was a typical October day, of the beautiful type just before it gets cold. Tanner was grazing, looking for some especially tasty alfalfa blades. She looked up at the frantic sound of quick hoofbeats.

It was Misty, her eyes wide, mane thrown back in disarray, and her grammar even more mangled than usual. She had a habit of speaking in half sentences when nervous or excited or thoughtful, or in long paragraphs that would have made Charles Dickens proud, only without the commas. “The barn’s on fire! She started it!”

“Who?” Tanner asked anxiously.

“Tussle did. Blame her.”

Tanner shook her head. “Why can’t you two ever get along?”  

Misty paused for breath. “I don’t know, we just don’t. Anyway, we were racing, Tussle and me, and her shoe hit a quartz rock and it made some sparks that caught on some old newspapers and moldy hay and stuff on the floor, and it made a fire and now she’s stuck and it’s all Tussle’s fault!”

The words poured out in a rush. Cody, a neighbor stallion debating something with a bull, overheard the last bit and decided to go rescue her. A wiser observer than Misty might have guessed his reason, as Tanner was extremely worried.

“Be careful,” she whispered.

“I will,”

With that, he and Misty dashed off to the rescue. It wasn’t really needed. Floyd, the hired man Zeke, and the fire department got the flames extinguished and extricated Tussle, it was in reality only a small grass fire.

In his hurry, Cody stepped in a snake-hole and went down, and as humans call merciful in such cases, a shotgun blast signaled the end of his agony.

“I can’t believe it,” Tanner said hollowly as the horses gathered together a few hours later.

“It’s not your fault. He just tripped, is all.” Tussle said awkwardly, trying to comfort her. “Yeah, if it’s anybody’s fault it’s ours,” Misty chimed in. “That’s not helping,” Gunslinger hissed at the pair.

“It almost seems like part of me is missing…” Tanner mumbled, tears in her eyes.

“There is,” Penelope agreed in a calming sympathetic tone. “It will take time, a long time, but eventually the wound will mostly heal.” The others nodded in agreement.

“Maybe I’ll be okay at some point, but that’s not right now.”

After a few minutes of silence, Misty spoke up. “Mom? You know how people go somewhere really nice called heaven? Do us horses go there, too?” Penelope shook her mane to keep a fly away. “I don’t know, I’ve never thought about it. We could, I suppose. What’d you guys think?” “Beats me.” “I’ve never heard of the place.” “I heard I might have sent some people there…” Rex snorted at ‘Slinger’s comment. “You sure that’s where you sent ‘em?” “Well, it was people talk, so I didn’t understand it all that well. They sound so much alike. Anyway, I wasn’t paying all that much attention.”

Milky Way came out of one of her deep thoughts. “Well, I don’t really know if we do or not. My cousin belonged to a Sunday School teacher, he heard bits and pieces of what’s called ‘theology’, and passed them on to us. Not everyone goes there…and there’s eagles and lions, I know. And I think there’s some horses…I’m not very sure, it’s all so confusing. It’ll mostly be people, I know that.”

“Be quiet, will you?!” Tanner pleaded, eyes streaming. “I….I just can’t handle it right now.” With that, she galloped away, leaving a crowd of curious equines, some more confused than others.

“What’d we do wrong?” Rex wondered. “Nothin’, really. It’s just a tough time for her right now. Things happen sometimes…Give her some time, she’ll be all right.” Penelope said.

She did more or less come to terms with it after a time – at least, as much you ever can.

The winter passed, it was early spring. Penelope was enjoying a roll in the warm soft mud and trying to keep up a conversation on parenting with a dull-witted cow mother.

Her mind wandered; she spotted something in the next field over. “Oh my goodness!” she muttered. “I’m sorry, Bessie, but I’ve got to go.” The next instant, she was off to spread the good news, doing her best imitation of a racehorse. (This is a very hard accomplishment for middle-aged mares to perform, and it must be noted that if gossip weren’t involved, she probably couldn’t have pulled it off.)

“Misty! Misty! Where are you?” she whinnied. “Yeah, Mom?” “It’s here!” Penelope yelled as she tried to slow her momentum. She couldn’t, and skidded into the pond, taking an unintended bath.

From there, things just got even more chaotic than usual. A cow was being milked in the barn, Misty managed to get a hoof on the milk bucket in her haste, spilling it. The cats were grateful for this mistake, as far as that virtue goes in their species. Tussle lost her sense of direction even more than normal, winding up trampling lettuces in the garden, and Rex knocked over the rabbit cage, which used to house Linda’s pet rabbit Mr. Whiskers.

It would be hard to describe the joy that the herd experienced when Tanner approached with her new foal wobbling unsteadily on his spindly legs, saying “This is C.J.” So we’ll just have to imagine it.

It was a very hard day for Floyd and Betty.

A few weeks afterwards, there had been three new litters of kittens, and a healthy proportion of cows had given birth, when a dusty dually pickup with a horse trailed attached crawled up the driveway. Rex and Gunslinger, who were being saddled by Linda and her grown daughter Jo, watched carefully as Floyd and another man backed the occupants of the trailer into the side pasture. Two piebalds, male and female, stood there, glancing around uncertainly.

Rex nudged ‘Slinger. “She’s not bad looking.”

‘Slinger looked at his pal. “I don’t know…I suppose she is,” he agreed doubtfully. “I try to stay away from things like that, much as I can,” he added.

They walked on a ways. “Yeah? Why come?”

“It’s easier,” he snorted in thought.

“Bay?” Rex asked after a pause.

“No, sorrel. Her name was Bonnie. Barrel racer. Things….kind of went bad. Trying to forget about it.”

They weren’t the only ones spying.

Tussle and Misty were also watching the newcomers.

“Look at them,” Misty whispered.

“Kind of stuck up, looks like,” Tussle agreed.

“And that two-tone tail!”

“It’s pretty awful, all right.”

“Well, what do ya think?” Patriot asked.

“”I don’t think I’ll like it here…”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“Yes, it can!” Cyclone’s answer to her twin came out harsher than she intended. “See those horses out there?”

He looked, and after a bit of searching, found two mostly gray fillies staring at them, one dappled lightly, the other dotted with a rusty red color. They seemed to be whispering conspiratorially.

“I bet they’re talking about us.”

“By ‘us’, meaning ‘you’?”

“No…Ye – Oh, I don’t know!” she wailed. “I just want Emily back, and things to go back to normal.”

Patriot shook his head. “I’d like that, too. But we’re here now, and still together, so I guess we’ll just have to make the best of it we can.”  

Things were pretty tense around the farm for the next couple weeks.

Misty and Tussle, feeling themselves threatened by Cyclone’s presence, did everything they could to antagonize her at every available chance they got, gradually forcing everyone else to take sides. Rex took the twins’ part, Gunslinger reluctantly allied himself with Tussle and Misty. Penelope looked disapprovingly at the newcomers, Tanner, understanding somewhat how they felt, tried to help them. Milky Way grew more concerned each day. Poor Patriot was stuck. He enjoyed talking to some of them, especially Gunslinger and Tussle, but he also had to protect his sister. It was a mess.

In the large scheme of things, nothing major, but when you consider that these kinds of situations sometimes break friendships that have held together for years, you can start to see why it was important.

And unsettling.

Things finally came to a head when they challenged those twin paints to a race. Cyclone got into an insult-hurling screaming match with Misty that very nearly came to flying hooves, Tussle helping occasionally. Patriot stood by, wishing fervently that he was anywhere else, and the rest stood there awkwardly.

“I smell the second Civil War,” Milky Way remarked to nobody in particular.

“What was that?” Tanner asked, hoping desperately to distract the combatants.

“Well, it was a war, of course. The Union, as one group was called, was fighting a group called the Confederacy. It was pretty complicated, but the whole country was fighting against itself, basically.”

“When was this?” Rex wondered.

“Milky Way looked over her audience, a small gleam in her eye and smile on her lips. “It took place about 150 years ago –“

“That’s befwoe I was borned,” C.J. said in his squeaky little voice, throwing most everyone into laughter.

“That’s right, Junior. None of us were born yet, not even me or Miss Penelope.”

The colt’s jaw dropped. “Wow…you’re old, Miss Milky. I thought you’d seen everything.”

“Not quite everything, but she’s seen a lot,” Penelope answered for her friend.

“So…why were they fighting?” Gunslinger asked.

“There was a lot of reasons, but the main difference was over slavery.” She had all of their attention now. “Now, that’s where some people owned other people and forced them to work for them, and the slaves had to whatever they said.”

“So…kinda like the people own us?” asked Tanner.

“Something like that, yeah. Except they even treated us horses better than the slaves.”

This brought snorts of amazement from everyone, since it so clearly defied the known order of  the world that humans were in charge of all animals. “That’s awful!” Misty commented, almost crying. “No way!” Patriot yelled.

“The people in the North, the Union, didn’t like that, so the South split off into their own country, called the Confederacy, and eventually they were at war,” Milky Way continued. “It lasted nearly five years, a huge number of horses and people died on both sides. Each side made their share of mistakes, and both had their heroes. The North won, so the Confederacy had to disband and rejoin the country. Also, the President – he’s the one in charge of the country, kind of like the top horse in the pecking order – his name was Abraham Lincoln, and he gave a speech called the Emancipation Proclamation, which set all the slaves free. True story.”

As Milky Way had hoped, this made them all think(as all truly great stories should do), and they resolved to be more civil to their enemies, although pride kept them from calling off the race entirely.

  It was – finally – race day, after being postponed twice due to bad weather, and although the incident causing it was somewhat embarrassing, things were still unsettled. And the weather wasn’t acting quite normal….almost like it was upset, too; and not just the horses.

Penelope was going to be the starter, most of the others were watching. “Okay, you’re going from the gate to the trees and back, got it?” she instructed.

Patriot and Tussle made their way over to the starting line, where Cyclone and Misty were glaring at each other. “On your make, get –“ A loud, colorful explosion interrupted the starting command. “What is it?” Tanner wondered.

Nobody really knew what it was, exactly, or why it was there, or what it did or anything. Even Milky Way didn’t know the reason, and she was too distracted to invent an on-the-spot explanation. Whatever it was, it was horrifyingly scary, coming out of nowhere, and almost pretty. The herd stared as the night sky filed with new stars that vanished immediately in a rainbow of colors. The people were watching the sky fall, too.

“See those fireworks?” Floyd asked the boy.

“Yeah, they’re cool,” he said.

“I’m glad your mom let you come visit,” Linda commented happily.

The boy nodded. “Me too, Grandma.”

“Would you like to go ride the horses tomorrow?” Floyd asked because he wanted to and needed an excuse.

The boy’s face lit up. “Oh, boy! That’d be fun! Could I drive the truck, too? Or can we go fishing? Do you need to get anything at the store? Oh, maybe we could go to the library…”  

A small knot of equines gathered in the chilly rain, giving last-minute advice to CJ. Most of the others had already said their goodbyes, and the rest were staying until the trailer came.

“Hey, don’t get into any trouble, all right?” Gunslinger told the little colt. “I’ll try not to,” he said with a grin.   

“And don’t over-eat,” Penelope added. Why is it that the advice we give others is the advice we almost never follow ourselves?

“Bye,” Tanner said, smiling through her tears. “Bye, Mom,” CJ said, his resolve weakening a little. “Good luck,” she said softly.

The sound of a motor came through the raindrops with a glow of pickup headlights, and the other horses retreated out of the way as CJ was loaded into the trailer that Cyclone and Patriot had arrived in.

“It’s tough, isn’t it?” Gunslinger reflected that night. “Yep. It is. But he’ll be fine. It’s just part of this world that we live in,” Milky Way finished the thought on most everyone’s mind.

“Still sad….gonna miss the little guy.” was all Rex said about it. 

Don't Ask Me to Watch Baseball

     This isn't very good, and I'm not sure whether it's supposed to be a song or a poem, but anyway, I wrote it during the 2011 World Series, which the St. Louis Cardinals won over the Texas Rangers in six games. This phrase just came to me while enduring an inning somewhere in the middle of one of the games, and the story, simple as it is, was there without much digging. I like it; it's a funny story. (FYI - I really don't much care for America's pastime in general; but I do follow the Cardinals semi-closely.)

"She played basketball and was in the band,
Cheer and volleyball, 'til she broke her hand
Or was that track, or maybe softball?
I can't remember, something where the crowds are pretty small.
We met one day in college,
We both fell pretty hard
Our relationship went deeper, I went down on one knee
But the answer that she gave was quite surprising...

She said, "I'll cook, I'll clean,
I'll do my best to do it all,
I'll marry you if you're serious, just have one stipulation -
If you really love me, don't ask me to watch baseball."

I laughed at first, or said something witty which fell flat,
We stayed in that coffee shop until they told us to scat
Walking her home I gave my reply:

I said, "We'll learn, we'll try,
We'll do our best, sometimes we'll fall.
I wouldn't ask if I wasn't serious, there's just one string attached -
If you really love me, don't ask me to watch baseball."

That was two years ago, our furniture's come from garage sales
We kept my bookshelves, and she had her Grandma's quilts
So complain all you want about your team's batting average
Their ERA and other ills
And keep those big green diamonds; our interests lie in other fields.
We try to be hospitable, to all but Yankees fans
Stay with us any time, you've just got to read the sign in the den:

It says, "We'll cook, we'll clean,
We'll do our best to do it all.
We're glad to have you stay here, summer, spring or fall
If you're under our roof, just remember, y'all:
If you really love us, don't ask us to watch baseball."

I Love This Barn

     A more rural parody of Toby Keith's "I Love This Bar".

Verse One -
We got caprines, we got rust stains
We've got a slick floor when it rains
And we got cute chicks, we got dog ticks
Food sacks, discarded guitar picks
And the dogs sing about their broken hearts...oh, I love this barn...

Chorus -
I love this barn
It's my kind of place
Just walking through the front door
Puts a big smile on my face
It ain't too far, come as you are
Oh, I love this barn...

Verse Two -
We've got security guards, we got plenty of hay
We got roosters that'll crow any time of day
And I've seen layers, I've seen fighters,
I've even seen crazy zip-liners
There's that pile of broken mower parts....oh, I love this barn...
(Chorus)

Bridge -
Well, I liked my job, I like to see the Cowboys win
I like eating out for dinner, I like a movie now and then....

Chorus Two -
But I love this barn
It's so peaceful in here
None of that stressful atmosphere
It's free of charge, so come as you are
Oh, I love this barn....

Welcome To The Future - Youth Tour Edition

     The summer between my junior and senior years of high school, I was lucky enough to get to be a part of Oklahoma's 2011 Youth Tour group, and so got to take an all-expenses-paid trip for a week to Baltimore and Washington, D.C. It was awesome. And so as soon as I got back I immediately wrote up a musical recap to the tune of Brad Paisley's "Welcome To The Future".

Verse One -
When this thing started,
We didn't know anybody
We just knew that we could write
And that led us to D.C.
By the time that we got home
Due to such close proximity,
Spike Mama and the rest
Had turned us into a family....

Chorus One -
Hey........
Glory glory, hallelujah
Welcome to the future...

Verse Two -
We got griped at
By that guy in the hotel
But hey, at least we got
Some great stories we can tell
And yeah, there were those two who got lost
But they got back, it ended well
We saw Arlington
Walked around Mount Vernon
Saw a ton of things at the Newseum
We even went to the Smithsonians...

Chorus Two -
Hey........
Every day there's something new
Welcome to the future

Verse Three -
If you think about it
If you could, would you trade
All the crazy and the weird things
Like escaping gay parades?
Despite sky-high prices
And escalators galore
I'd sign up in a heartbeat
If I could go back for more...

Chorus Three -
Hey......
We need to plan us a reunion
Somewhere in the future
Hey....
Thank you, OAEC
For all the memories....
Hey.....
Go ahead, bring on the future....

I'm Already There - Rewrite

I really like Lonestar's "I'm Already There", but after hearing a guy named Aaron Kelly sing it on American Idol, it seemed like the verses didn't quite work for that sort of show; it's too much of a story song. So I set about trying to find something that might could work a bit better.

Verse One -
He called her on the phone
From his lonely cold hotel room
She said, "Don't worry about me, I'll be all right.
I know you're on the road, and that you need to be out there
Still, I wish you were home..."

Chorus One -
He said, "I'm already there
Take a look around
I'm the picture on the wall
In our things, both big and small
Can you feel the love that we share?
I'm already there..."

Verse Two -
This only made him more depressed
And as he let out a sigh
He hung up the phone and his heart gave a cry
And then it seemed like to him
In the darkness he was in
It was like he could hear this reply:

Chorus Two -
"I'm already there,
Take a look around
In your wife and your friends
Your Bible, the CDs in your car
You're never alone, I died for your sins
And I'm allowing these things
So that you will grow
And know that  I care
I'm already there..."

Verse Three -
She was feeling sad and lonely, and yes, depressed, too
As she typed out an email to her boyfriend
She said, "I'm not feeling good, and I need to know that you care
I just can't wait til you can transfer here next year
Then I'll gently kiss your lips, touch you with my fingertips
....Please, JUST GET HERE FAST!"

Chorus Three -
In reply, he sent the first thing that came to his mind:
"I'm already there,
Don't cry, calm down
I'm with you when you sleep, or when you walk across town
Try to hang on, I'll be there soon
I really care, it's like I'm already there...

Bridge -
We may be a thousand miles apart
But I'll be with you, wherever you are...

Chorus Four -
I'm already there, I'm all around
In the sunshine in your hair, in the shadow on the ground
I'm the text on your phone, I love you, my friend
You're always in my prayers
I've got to go now, but believe me, I swear
With all of my heart
I'm already there."

Homeless Guys

     This parody was written with help a friend of mine named Amanda; her dad started singing Owl City's "Fireflies" wrongly, and she thought it was funny enough to post on Facebook. I commented on her post, and she dared me to finish the new song. So, here's what happened.

Verse One -
You would not believe your eyes if ten million homeless guys
Appeared and showed you how to live
What would you learn from the things they'd tell
Of the things they didn't do well?
How could that apply to you
And the circumstances where you're stuck like glue?...

Chorus One -
I'd like to make myself believe
That planet Earth turns slowly
But that I could not say
Cause it would not be true
And being so it's sort of, kind of like a lie....

Verse Two -
You would not believe your ears
If the guy selling beers
At the baseball game had good advice
Yes, that's pictures is kind of weird
So you don't notice a mustard smear
In your  hair behind your left ear
While thinking over his words once or twice...

Chorus Two -
I'd like to make myself believe
That planet Earth turns slowly
But that would be a lie
And it would not be true
And girls just don't like that in a guy...

Bridge -
Our lives are like a track
(Please, won't you get here soon?)
They go straight, then out of whack
(Please, won't you get here soon?)
Whether it's raining, snow or sleet
(Please, won't you get here soon?)
I'll be so glad when our paths meet...

Verse Three -
To all those homeless guys:
Sorry, but I had to say goodbye
Because I had to leave and go find you
But hey, I'll know where my friends are
If things ever go real bizarre
They'll be a short ride away in my car...

Chorus One
Chorus Two
Chorus Three -
I'd like to make myself believe
That planet Earth turns slowly
But after all, I can't say that
Cause it would not be true
And I don't want to have to lie to you...

Sniffing Around the Place

     This was the first gossip column my dog Sunny wrote for the fictional Fenceville Weekly News. It was good practice for writing in another's voice; it was fun, and I was sick and bored at the time. Originally posted as a Facebook note on May 11, 2011; posted on here September 4, 2015.

   Can you believe this weather? We had two days of spring. Basically straight from winter to summer. It's annoying.

     Two new goats and about eighteen chickens have moved to Weed Valley recenty, or that's what I read in the paper.

     Sport Bossdog hasn't felt that well lately...he says it's his arthritis acting up again and getting worse. I was playing the other day when some tall galoot - who I shall not name - the one with dancing eyes, slapping tail and likes to chew on things, STEPPED ON MY PAW. It HURTS. Why can't he just find a job, like the rest of us?

     Copper Caynine's been on a trip the last couple days, she says she was at the feed store, but I bet she was buying birthday presents.

    That flood a few weeks ago would have really been bad for those around the Houseton area, if it wasn't for volunteers from all over the county stopped it. Thanks, volunteers!

     There was a  Shakespeare play read at the house on Monday, they had a girl be the king...not sure how I feel about that. Women should have important roles, but still....My goodness, did they ever have long speeches...and some people have to work on playing angry, drunk commoners- LOL!

     If Swiftdust Cavy and Nibbles Rabbit didn't have Facebook, I'd never know what was going on with them. Sure seems like a lot of people are graduating these days.

     Haven't been feeling that great, running a fever, have a slight headache, and been throwing up. Not fun. I have heard some good new songs on the radio, though, there's one called "Raymond" by Brett Eldredge, and that new Brad Paisley song with Alabama. Is he a genius songwriter or what?

   Caleb's birthday is Wednesday, Sport's is Thursday, Amy's is Monday, and Wesley's is in two weeks. Time goes by so quickly this time of year...it makes me feel old. I guess that's about right, though...I"m almost 63.

     Interesting topic was began in Sunday School this week..pity I missed it.

     It's about time for Wesley to take his summer break off work...he seems a little distracted by college planning. A bit tired, too. He's a good Person, but hey, a dog can only do so much in the way of encouragement. (In my opinion, he needs to find himself a Person, but he doesn't think much of this idea.)

    Jatina's having company over on Thursday, her aunt and uncle are coming over to see her and the family.

     The Thunder sure are tiaking their own time about beating Memphis...if you ask me, the Grizzlies never should have moved from Vancouver. Of course, I'm the basketball fan who makes educated comments like "Those boys sure are tall" and "They aren't going to score if they don't make more baskets". Part of being so short, I think.

     Patty Angora got a new haircut at the clipper's the other day after Stormy and Lucy talked her into it...it looks real good on her.

     The teenagers going to the capitol next month sure seem excited about it...they'll need to take tons of pictures.

     Apparently there's been country music that cusses again....or so Caleb and Trevor say. Since when, may I ask, is "love" a cuss word? And there was a Keith Urban song called "Kiss A Girl" being practiced on a guitar...they were scandalized, let me tell you!!

     Heard there was some kind of mix-up at the newspaper office last week...

     The roads along the highway near Yard City and Fenceville look good, the maintainance guys must have thier mowers up and running pretty well.

    That's about all for now, and I'm as tired of typing as I always am, so until next week, "In case I don't see ya, good morning, good afternoon, and goodnight!"

Christmas Lights - Part Two

      The second part of this story, based on a house fire we went through on December 12, 2008.

"Out on I-44, the girl checked her fuel gauge. It read one-eighth a gallon until it hit empty, that pretty much fit her emotional tank as well. “Well, Kandy…you’ve sure done it by now,” she snapped at the rearview mirror for about the twenty-first time on this trip. Or she would have snapped, if she’d had the energy to. “Denver kicked you out, can’t get a job anyplace. Next to no cash, and all you’ve got is packed in this car.” She checked on Tiffany in the backseat, still sleeping soundly in her car seat. 

Hmm. We’re in Missouri now, somewhere past Joplin and I don’t think quite to Springfield…wonder how much longer to Cincinnati? Will Mom and Dad even want me back, or will they kill me? And…everybody else?

Replaying the journey of the long, hard nineteen months kept her distracted, and the little red Kia shot off an icy patch of asphalt, sending them into what was once a ditch, now mostly covered in snowdrift, except for the part trampled on by the wayward vehicle. They now had a very badly crumpled front end, a crushed front quarter panel, and who knows what wrong under the hood. She checked again to make sure she was still alive and unhurt, then looked at Tiffany. The baby was still asleep, with no idea how close they might have come to dying. Seeing that, the shock finally overcame the pent-up anxiety and frustration, and the young mother broke down, bowing her head on the steering wheel, her frame shaking with sobs as the salty tears coursed down her cheeks.

Colton and Tim set down a couple armfuls of wet, cold firewood on the floor to dry off near the woodstove, then sat down to listen to the others talking. Amanda, Hailey, Tony and Sunny were conversing about something; Grace was wandering in and out of the living room, Nate was in the kitchen, working on a batch of his famous brownies, and Becky and Lizzie were upstairs somewhere.

“So, what should we sing next?” Hailey asked the group. “How about ‘Silent Night?” somebody suggested.

“That sounds good,” Sunny agreed.

“Do you guys know the story behind it?” Tony asked curiously.

“Yes, honey.” Amanda stated in a tone of restrained warning.

“Yeah.” “We know it, Dad.” Colton noticed Tim frowned and Hailey winced on Tony’s question.

“I don’t, would you mind telling it?” Sunny asked politely. That didn’t help the Snows’ pained expressions.

“Of course!” Tony said happily, ignoring the hopeless looks of his wife and offspring.

“It was December 23 in the small village of Obendorf, Austria, in 1818,” he began. “and a very hungry little grayish-brown mouse started chewing anything edible, including the old worn-out leather bellows of the organ. He chewed a hole right through it, and it wasn’t discovered until the next morning, when the organist, Franz Gruber, and the temporary priest, Joseph Mohr, discovered a problem. They unhappily found the hole, rendering the organ useless, and right before Christmas Mass, too.

“‘What do we do now?’ Gruber asked hopelessly. ‘Well, um…I wrote some words for a song awhile back…’

“’A song acceptable for church?’ Franz asked his friend, smiling. Joseph liked to occasionally listen to the so-called “sinful” secular music of the taverns and folk festivals, which some people in his congregation didn’t like too much,” Tony pause to rekindle the fire.

“Anyway, Franz looked at the scribblings the priest had written, and he felt an odd excitement running through him. ‘I just thought, since the organ won’t play, maybe you could write some sort of tune for this that we could play on our guitars, so that the children will have something to sing for the service?” Joseph asked his friend apologetically. ‘Yes, I think I can do something with this…”

“Franz worked on it all night, and magically the tune locked into place with the lyrics. He and Mohr taught it to the kids the next afternoon. They sang to the accompaniment of the two guitars, much to the annoyance of certain people, who didn’t think it holy enough.”

“So then what happened after that?” asked Colton.

“Well, it caused a big ruckus for about a month, because of the small-town gossip, but eventually everybody forgot about it, and it would have been lost forever if the organ repairman hadn’t heard about it when he came the next spring. He asked Gruber what they’d done for music at Christmas, since Mohr had already moved on somewhere else, and Franz told him about the improvised song.

“‘It wasn’t much, I don’t even know where it is now. Wait –‘ They hunted through some old papers on a little-used shelf and eventually found it. ‘Can I keep this?’ the repairman asked after reading it over. ‘Sure, I don’t need it.’

“And so it spread from the tiny village to the small city, and from there it spread across the country, and then made its way all over the globe. All because of a mouse.” Tony finished.

They’d just gotten into the third verse, Tony playing mandolin, Hailey guitar and Sunny piano, when the doorbell interrupted. Tony went to answer it.

“Jim, Gail! Good to see ya. Power out at your-all’s place?”

“Yep,” Jim nodded.

“Could we maybe stay here for a bit until it comes back on?”

“’Course you can, Gail. You’re family, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know, thanks to Amanda. But with the holidays coming up, and then you all helping out that poor family who’s house burned out, we weren’t sure.” They stepped inside, setting their coats on the large pile that was sprawled all over the entryway.

“Hollidays, these are our neighbors Jim and Gail Bell. Snows, looks like we’ll be having some more company for a couple days,” Tony announced to everyone within earshot.

They could have been the model for ideal grandparents. Jim was balding, slightly Santa-like in the stomach, and looked good to talk to. Gail was shorter, with happy laugh wrinkles all over her face. Tim and Jim immediately picked up where they left off a previous conversation on photography, and Gail soon found a fellow dog lover in Becky.

Slightly crazy, yet good days followed.

Not but about two hours later, the doorbell rang yet again. “Never rains but it pours,” Tony muttered, opening the door. Whoever he was expecting, this wasn’t it. A young lady in her early twenties stood there almost frostbitten, covered with snow and holding a car seat with a baby inside it in one hand.  

“Can I – I’m sorry. My car broke down. Can I use y’all’s phone?” she asked.

Tony looked at her. “Just a second, please.” Quick glance-conversation with Amanda. “Sure…uh, won’t you come in? Phone gets better reception in here.”

“He means, ‘Come on in from that cold weather!” his wife called loudly from inside.

The girl bit her lip, then nodded reluctantly.

Curious stares from around corners, though everyone of too polite to ask. She took the phone, dialed a number, then after a minute almost slammed it into the wall, things were just too much to deal with. And it was busy.

“Damn it!” she whisper/cried in despondency, tears welling up - again unwillingly – in her eyes.

“Cute baby you’ve got there,” Jim commented, getting a glass of eggnog.

“Thanks, her name’s Tiffany.” the girl responded.

“Jim Bell,” he introduced himself.

The girl snorted, something like a laugh. “My name’s Kandy, Kandy Kane. Gets old, but this time of year, it’s kinda fun.”

“Isn’t that something? This house belongs to the Snows, my wife and I live next door, and their friends the Hollidays are visiting.”

“Get out of here…seriously?”

“That’s right, kiddo.”

Tony walked back into the dining room. “Um…sir?”

“Yes?”

“My folks didn’t answer…would it be all right if I stayed here just until I could get a hold of them?”

“Don’t see why not. I’m Tony.” he said, offering his hand to shake.

“Call me Kandy.”

“Another potato, Kandy?” Amanda asked at dinner the next night.

“No, thanks, Mrs. Snow, I’m stuffed.”

“I’ve told you already, it’s Amanda!”

:”Okay…Amanda.”

“It was strange for us to get used to, too.” Colton said.

“It’d be weird for us…” Tim picked up the train of thought.

His mom just gave him that “You are so grounded” look.

“You’re not too full for brownies, are you?” Jim asked.

“I don’t think so, that sounds really good.”

“They are. Thanks for makin’ ‘em, Nate!” Hailey hollered from the living room. She walked back into the kitchen to refill her cup of water. “So, um…what exactly happened? If you don’t mind my asking,” she added quickly.

“Have you got a hold of your folks yet?” Gail asked.

”One question at a time! Let her finish chewing!” Nate hushed them.

Kandy swallowed, then said, “No, not yet, and no; I don’t mind telling. I was driving to my parents’ in Cincinnati, like I’ve said before, since it was so close to Christmastime. Tiffany was in her car seat in the back, we’d been going nonstop since about Sand Springs. I was a little tired. And I’ve had…a lot to think about. It hasn’t exactly been the easiest year for me.” She took a drink of her Pepsi. “Anyway, I wasn’t paying close enough attention, didn’t see a patch of ice in the road. We slid off into the ditch, car’s pretty much totaled, and my cell phone was dead. So I walked over to the nearest friendly-looking house, which was your-all’s. And that’s pretty much it.” Her tone said clearly there was much more, but this wasn’t the time to let everything go just yet.

Grace started tapping her fork against the counter, causing a loud clatter. “Grace, stop that,” Amanda admonished. “OK, Mom, just a minute.” She tapped several more times, then quit. “Well…okay, thank you.”

    Later, Becky, Colton, Lizzie and Tim were playing rummy. Tim wanted to take a break, having lost three times in a row by one card, and Becky went to get a snack. Their siblings began a game of Speed until they returned.

“So why was Grace making all that noise?” Colton asked.

Lizzie laughed. “Morse code. She tapped STAY, like ‘Mom, Kandy can stay here for a while, right?”

“Oh, I see…that’s pretty cool.

“Yup. I win!”

“How-? HEY! No telling stories during games of Speed!”

“Well, you shouldn’t ask questions if you don’t want to lose,” Lizzie shot back. Although it was said with a smile, it was true that she played anything to win, a trait that she and most of her siblings inherited from their dad. It drove Amanda nuts.

“True,” Tim acknowledged, coming back into the room.

“Yeah…I guess you’re right,” Colton conceded grouchily.

“I brought some Doritos, anybody up for some five-card poker?” Becky surveyed the others.

“For what?” Gail asked suspiciously from the doorway, overhearing the last part of the previous sentence.

“Doritos, Spicy Nacho and Cool Ranch.” answered Tim placidly.

“Well, then…deal me in!” Gail said happily.

Lizzie shrugged and shuffled the cards.

Christmas dawned, and with it, joyful snippets of conversation.

“Wow. You really shouldn’t have done that.”

“Well! Thanks, Tony!”

“Awesome, a new Mizzou hat!”

“Course, I had to get ya a Tigers hat.” Nate grinned. “And here’s a box of Frosted Flakes.” Sunny added. Tony just laughed and gave Nate a high five.

Hailey motioned Colton over. “Hey, follow me a sec.”

“Uh, okay…” he replied, unsure of why.

They went to her room, where one of her guitars, the flaming orange one, lay on the bed. Hailey sat down and picked it up, Colton found himself a chair at the desk.

“Thanks for staying here,” she began. “I know it probably wasn’t easy, with…losing your house and everything. And then having to stay in a house full of girls.” “You got that right.” There was a pause.

“Seriously, though, you aren’t a bad musician.”

“You think?”

“Yep. You should sing at the talent share at camp next summer. You are coming, right?”

“Probably. Becky’s talked about it a lot, and now that I know some people, I think I might, yeah.”

“Glad to hear it. Might be easier to play something, though, if you had something to play.”

Colton sighed. “Yeah…I’ll get a new guitar sometime.”

“Here.” She held the guitar out to him, only to be met with a blank stare.

“You don’t take a hint easy, do you?” she smiled.

“I don’t think I quite follow…”

“I’m saying, try out your new guitar.”

Tim raised his camera in the doorway, making sure the settings were right, the flash was off. He got Colton’s confused expression.

“No, that’s yours. Mine burned, remember? Wait…Did you say -?” Tim snapped more as Hailey nodded. “Hailey, I can’t take that. It was your grandpa’s.”

“Please, do. I want you to have it.”

He was silent a minute.

“…Why?”

It was a small, insignificant word, carrying an extremely wide range of questions, from “Why are you giving me this?” to “Why did you all help us when the only one you knew was Becky?” Hailey understood.

“Well…we’ve been thinking a lot about those verses in Hebrews, 13:1-2, I think it is. You know the ones, ‘Keep on loving each other as brothers, and do not forget to entertain strangers, for by doing so some people have entertained angels unawares.’? It’s sorta like that. And also like in Matthew, ‘Whatever you did to the least of these, you did it for Me.’ It’s just…well, you guys needed help. So…” she shrugged.

“And besides…he would’ve liked you, I think. He wanted me to play, and so I do. It…it’s not always easy. There’s been spells when I can’t play at all. But he’s the reason why I play, to honor his memory, I guess. An’ so…just…” Her thoughts trailed off, too much going on for words to express themselves. She hugged her pillow tightly. Tim came in and hugged his big sister a little awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

“Thanks, bro.”

“Well, hmm…Hey, Hailey?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you,” Colton whispered, trying not to cry.

            It took several years and moves, including a rebuild and a tornado later, but the Snows and Hollidays are now much closer geographically, as well as good friends. Jim and Gail are still terrific neighbors, and they added Becky and Colton to their list of adopted grandkids, to which the Snow clan belonged. Things still aren’t easy for Kandy, but she’s fighting her way through. They’re slowly getting better. She’s still staying in touch with everybody. The orange guitar was brought along to camp multiple times, and those times in the Ozarks were filled with good preaching, wonderful songs, bad weather, injuries of all types and the times and friendships formed were great, providing many good memories."

Christmas Lights - Part One

         This story's different. Nothing else has ever quite come together quite like this one did; fully grown in the middle of a torrential August thunderstorm. I scribbled down the outline on the inside of an old Town House cracker box.  And this is unusually based on history; more so than usual.

            “Let it be Christmas, everywhere/In the hearts of all people, both near and far/Christmas everywhere…”           

            “Colton, can’t you please practice your guitar somewhere else?” Becky complained from where she sat at the computer desk.

            He stopped in mid-strum. “Why come?”
            “It’s distracting, I’m trying to chat with Lizzie, that’s why.”

            “Oh,” her brother thought this over. “I guess I can quit for a while.”
            “Thanks.”

            “As soon as I finish this one song.” Colton finished.

            “Fine…” Becky rolled her eyes, then frowned. “What’s that smell?”

            “Seems sorta familiar…”

            “Y’all.” Their mom’s voice contained an odd quality, a note of fearfulness and uncertainty. “Guys…the house is on fire.” Her composure snapped. “Get out now!!!”

            Colton set his guitar down and dashed out the front door, Becky typed out a hasty goodbye and then followed.

            A state of disbelieving shock filled the hotel room several hours later, punctuated by phone calls from people checking to see how they were doing. The outside sky was gray and threatening, the temperature was hanging just below forty degrees. The cell buzzed again, it was answered by Becky in a perplexed tone. “Hi, this is Becky.” (Pause, she frowned in puzzlement.) “Yeah, she’s here…what? Uh, okay…” (To Sunny) “Mom, it’s for you.”

She took the phone from her daughter wearily. “Hello, this is Sunny Holliday, who’s this? ... You’re who?” (Pause) “Amanda Snow…? Yes, I’ve heard a lot about Hailey and Lizzie Snow – Oh! Okay, they’re your daughters? Got it.” (Pause) “Yes, we’re fine. Most of our stuff is trashed… Not yet, no…we’re just staying at a hotel at the moment. (Long pause) “Uh, wow. You guys would do that? Really? I mean, it’s almost Christmas and all… We-ll, I’ll talk to my husband, and then we’ll let you know, all right? Okay, thank you, bye.”

“What’d Hailey’s mom call you for?” Becky wanted to know. “Who’s Hailey?” her dad, Nate, wondered. “Girl I met at church camp, Dad, she’s from Missouri.” “Oh, I see,’ his tone showed that he didn’t.

“Yeah, well, anyway, that was her mom, and she was calling to ask if we wanted to spend Christmas with their family,” Sunny said.

“With strangers?” Colton asked.

“They’re good people, and besides, they have a brother,” his older sister countered.

“I don’t know…” Nate thought about it, there was about twenty minutes’ worth of discussion.

“Well…I hate the idea of spoiling somebody else’s Christmas, but we do need somewhere to go…I guess if they really don’t mind, tell ‘em we’ll take it.’

Becky was already gleefully dialing the phone. “Here ya go, Mom!”

At the Snow’s house, things were slightly a mess, to say the least, but it was a happy disarray. Hailey and Tim were decorating the tree while their younger sister Grace looked on, and Lizzie was in the kitchen, her domain, baking cookies.

“You know what we need?” Tim asked while untangling a particularly knotted string of lights.

“Music?” Lizzie hollered back. The kitchen was right next to the living room, and high ceilings make good acoustics.

“How -?’

Hailey laughed. “We know you, little bro.” She inserted the official Snow family Christmas album, Alan Jackson’s “Let It Be Christmas”, into the CD player and hit “PLAY”.

“You woulda played music even if nobody asked, Hailey,” Grace pointed out.

“True…and thanks for the reminder, I need to tune my guitar…’

The doorbell rang, Tim went to answer it.

“Hi Mr. Bell, what’re you doing today?”

“Hello, Tim! Just wanted to make sure you all are ready for the ice storm the weather people say’s coming.”

“Thanks, I think we’re gonna be okay. Mom’s at the store right now, and we have plenty of wood stored up. Drop by if you need to.”

“All right, tell your sisters we said hi.”

“Will do.”

Jim Bell walked back toward the road.

“Tony, be careful up there,” he called, remembering a painting accident that broke several ribs and tore apart his shoulder.

Tony, stringing Christmas lights on the roof-line, looked down. “Okay, Jim, I’ll try, not planning anything too fancy. Think Gail’s waitin’ on ya…”

Jim rolled his eyes. “She’s in a hurry to bake those fudge pecan pies…we gotta run to Wal-Mart for more of that baking chocolate. Why can’t that stuff taste good just by itself? But those squares are some of the bitterest things…”

Lizzie poked her head out the window. “Cookies are ready!”

A small stampede headed towards the kichen. “Now, just one, you guys!” (Groans and complaints.) “Well, we’ll need some for Becky’s family, ya know.”

“You tell ‘em, Liz!” Amanda cheered as she dropped some grocery sacks on the counter.

“Did you just get here, Mom?”

“Yep. You all ready for our guests coming tomorrow?” Her mother helped herself to a sugar cookie, yelping from the heat. “Youch!”

“Yeah, Mom.” Lizzie winced. “I literally just took those out of the oven…”

“Heck yes, I’m ready!” Hailey excitedly answered.

Tim and Tony both looked a little nervous. “They’re coming tomorrow?” “As in, like, the day after today?”

“Yep! So let’s get the house presentable, okay?”

A crazy afternoon followed, but the house was much cleaner.

An airy blanket of whiteness was settling onto the Ozarks as they pulled into the driveway.

“You sure this is the right place?” Nate asked.

“Yup, this is it. I’ve been here before, remember?” Becky replied somewhat flippantly.

“Well, all right, then.”

They grabbed their backpacks out of the trunk and uneasily made their way to the front door, where Sunny rang the doorbell. In a minute, a lady in her late thirties or early forties answered it.

“Um, hello, is this the Snow’s residence?”

“Yep! You must be the Hollidays, right? Becky! Good to see you again!” They nodded. “Well, hey, I’m Amanda. Come on in.”

Inside, Hailey was trying to play chess, but neither she nor Tim could concentrate. Her black knight was captured by a pawn, and the white bishop was beheaded after a rook un-checkmated Hailey’s king. Lizzie was looking through a cookbook found at a garage sale, Tony was reading a story to Grace, and Amanda was idly flipping through a six-year-old copy of Reader’s Digest. Snow began to fall, forming the first layer of a slick ground covering not fit to walk on. After what seemed like forever, a silver Ford pulled slowly in. The people sat there a minute, then climbed out and grabbed backpacks and headed towards the door.

There were four of them, the man was kind of thin, which made him look taller than he was. He had black hair and carried a Mountain Dew in one hand. His wife looked anxious, and stressed showed plainly on her face from beneath a Thunder baseball cap. They recognized Becky instantly, the girls from camp, the rest from pictures and her visiting. Her hair was somewhere between blonde and brown, with a hint of red. Colton(that’s who it must be) had a worried expression, like they all did, and was muttering to himself. They rang the doorbell, and the Reader’s Digest skidded across the coffee table as Amanda hurried to answer it.

The dad spoke up nervously. “Um, hello, is this the Snow’s residence?” Amanda smiled. “Yep! You must be the Hollidays, right? Becky! Good to see you again!” (Pause, probably giving Becky a hug.) “Well, hey, I’m Amanda. Come on in.”

They did. The Hollidays looked uncertainly around the room, wondering if this was a good idea. Except for Becky, who was getting massive bear-hugs and “How are you?”s from Hailey and Lizzie. Colton rolled his eyes. “Girl stuff…all the same, it would be kinda nice to have friends like that, though.”

“Oh, I almost forgot the cookies!” Lizzie exclaimed. “Yeah, but I didn’t,” Tim grinned at his older sister. “Anybody want one? There’s sugar and chocolate chip.” “I was gonna make peanut butter, but I couldn’t remember if any of y’all were allergic or anything…” “Nah, we’re good, thanks for baking them,” Becky assured her friend.

Munching cookies, the two families got acquainted as the hours ticked by. The next few days slipped past, things went reasonably smoothly and a routine of chores of activities began to flow. Nate spent most of his time working on insurance details in the aftermath, everyone else took part in fierce Monopoly battles and caroling expeditions. 

“I read a note my grandma wrote/Back in 1923…”

Colton looked around to find out where the music was coming from, wandering down the hallway.

“Grandpa kept it in his coat/And he showed it once to me…”

He poked his head into the open doorway of Haley’s room, listening. After she got through the chorus, he spoke up quietly. “Nice song.”

“Huh -? Oh, yeah. It is.” Hailey said, startled.

“It’s by Colin Raye?”

“Yup, ‘The Letter.”

“Could I play for a bit?” Colton asked.

“Sure, go ahead.” She handed him the Fender, picking up almost without noticing the bright orange acoustic leaned up by the bed.

“Need a pick?”

“Naw, thanks, though. I usually just play with my thumb.”

After naturally forming a G chord as soon his fingers touched the fretboard, he dropped down into a D. “Run your car off the side of the road/Get stuck in a ditch way out in the middle of nowhere…”

“Tracy Lawrence, ‘You Find Out Who Your Friends Are.”

He nodded. “Seems true. Sure had a chance to find out over these last couple weeks.”

“So, how long you been playing?” Hailey asked after a pause.

“About a year, I guess. Had a black Takamine acoustic-electric, but it, ah, got scorched.” Colton answered.

“Well, that kinda sucks.”

“Yep.” (Pause) “How about you, how long you been playing?”

“Ever since my grandpa died,” Hailey bit her lip. “When I’d go out to his farm, we’d read books, or go fishing, riding the horses, things like that. He started to teach me how to play, but then…well, his cancer got really bad. It was his,” she gestured at the guitar she was cradling.

“Oh,” was all Colton said, trying to figure out what the proper way to react to this information was. “I, uh…sorry if that brought up unhappy memories, I didn’t know. Thanks for letting me play.”

Colton handed the honey-colored Fender back to her, walking quickly out of the room.

            Hailey stared at nothing in the general area of her closet door, sighing. She set the pick down on the desk, among several others lying on top of mail from Mountain College, Midwest Missouri State and several other colleges."