A Very Bad, No Good Day

A Very Bad, No Good Day

     It’s hard to be me. I hate school. I’m a sophomore at Wardville High in the year of our Lord 1969 and it’s tough. I’m the smallest guy in my class, weighing 104lbs and standing 5’0” tall. Prime bully bait.         

    Today was one of those days I’d rather be sick at home with the flu, than to be here and go through what I have today. Mom overslept this morning and that means I was late getting up. I threw on yesterday’s clothes that were left laying on the floor last night, as the school bus was honking at the end of our drive. This morning was cold and the only jacket I could find before I ran out the front door was my ‘Future Farmers of America’ navy blue corduroy, . . . really thin corduroy. The heater on the bus wasn’t working, again, so I was hunched over and shivering all the way to school.

     First, I went to the boy’s restroom to take care of business and then, as I was leaving through the doorway, someone tripped me. I fell hard, jamming my wrists against the concrete floor. As I looked up, my arch-nemesis Duane was standing over me laughing his ass off. Not wanting to get my ass kicked, without a response, I got myself up and walked away. 

    With a bad start to a day, it just never seems to get any better. I girded my loins mentally as I entered my first class, Algebra 1. To begin the class the teacher handed out the mid-term test we had taken two days ago. I made a D. God, I hate math. I think they only teach algebra to torture teenagers. Good grief.       Lunch wasn’t any better. There was no time, so I hadn’t eaten breakfast and I was starved by lunchtime. I loaded my tray as I made my way through the line. When I got to the cashier I discovered I didn’t have any money. My school cafeteria has a firm policy of ‘no pay, no eat’. I survived the remainder of the school day, lightheaded and weak from hunger.

     I rode the bus home in a foul mood. Without thinking, I told a senior to fuck off over something he said. I was in the process of kissing my ass goodbye as he stood over me with fist clenched, drawn back and ready to launch. Thankfully he maintained his cool and didn’t pound me. There are too many times that my bulldog mouth overloads my chihuahua ass. I realized I’d just made an enemy that I’d have to avoid until he graduated in the Spring.

     As I stepped down from the bus, my mood lightened and I exhaled a sigh of relief. Home at last. I am a shy introvert so every school day is a minefield for me to navigate through until I get home. This farm is my safe place. It is the only place that I am completely comfortable and at peace, so I don’t have to be constantly on guard. Being around people is exhausting. 

    Starved, the first thing when I got in the house was to make a baloney and cheese sandwich. I scarfed that down with a glass of milk as I stood at the kitchen counter. I live on the family farm of nearly four hundred acres. My grandparents bought this place in 1950. Their house, a crown on top of the hill. My family lives in another smaller house about three hundred yards away, east of my grandparents. 

    Usually, and today is no exception, when I get home, I saddle my horse and ride around the farm for a couple of hours to unwind from the daily assaults at school. It clears my mind and enables me to put my troubles behind me. I walked up the hill from my house to the big red barn behind my grandparent’s house. I put some oats in a bucket and called up my big bay mare ‘Beauty’. She came trotting, ready for her daily treat. I fit the bridle over her head and secured it as she munched her oats. I dragged the saddle out of the barn and as I was cinching it tight, her head went up alert to something behind me.    

    I turned and saw my grandfather, Clyde, approaching with a double barrel shotgun carried in the crook of his arm. My grandad is a tough old bird. He's in his late seventies and a successful, prosperous farmer who has survived a lot of challenges over the years. He lost his mother during a yellow fever epidemic as she nursed a neighbor and contracted it herself. The Spanish Flu epidemic of 1918 didn’t get him. The Great Depression came and went. He lived through World War I and World War II. He had three sons that served. The oldest was a pilot in the Army Air Corp. His second son was in the Navy, serving in the South Pacific. His youngest, my father, was a Korean Era army veteran. 

    His real challenges took place when he was a young man. In his early teens, he and some friends were skinny dipping in a local swimming hole. The last time he jumped into the water, he hit a submerged barrel that had rusty nails sticking out of it. One of the nails pierced his knee leading to blood poisoning. He was laid up in bed for a whole year. He wasn’t expected to live, but he did. Throughout the year he was laid up his right leg continued to grow normally. His left leg did not. The left leg ended up being about six inches shorter than his right. In time, the doctor pinned his left knee so he walked with a stiff leg and a six inch cork sole on his left shoe. Since he could no longer bend that knee, he walked swinging the left leg out to the side to clear the ground. That may have slowed him down, but it did not stop him.

     He was a bit of a rounder in his late teens and early twenties. He was a motorcycle enthusiast and a horrific accident left him on death’s doorstep a second time. His injuries were extensive and he was not expected to live. He was injured badly enough that there was a newspaper article in the Fort Worth paper about his accident. He was bedridden for a year, again. A second time he disappointed the Grim Reaper, who was unable to collect until the man was ninety-two years of age. Like I said, he is a tough old bird. 

    “I want you to go with me. I’ve got something I need your help with.” 

    “What’ve you got?”

     “You’ll see. It’s out there behind the barn.”

     I didn’t ask any more questions. I was always a little intimidated by the man, and I didn’t want to aggravate him with too many questions. He wasn’t a big talker anyway, so we walked out behind the barn in silence. He spoke first, “I’ve had to do this too many times over the years, and I just can’t do it anymore.” He stopped walking. It has always been my habit on the farm to look at the ground as I walked. My reason for that is to avoid stepping on cow pies or snakes. Cow pies being the lesser of the two evils.

     I heard a whimper as I looked up. A stray cur dog was tied to a cedar fence post, laying on his side in submission, his genitals exposed, tail tucked. He knew what was coming. “I need you to shoot this dog.” He said as he extended the shotgun for me to take. I took the gun in hand. It was a double barrel sixteen gage. I broke it open to check. It was loaded, both barrels. I did not want to do this. Why, Lord, didn’t I stay at the house in front of the Dearborn heater and read a book?

    “I don’t know about this, Grandad. I don’t think I can do it either.”

     “Yeah, you’ve got to. This dog, I’ve seen him chasing calves twice. The first time I couldn’t catch him. Today I got him to come up to me and here he is. We’ve got to protect the livestock. I know it ain’t easy, I’ve had to do it too many times over the years and now that I’m old, I just can’t anymore. You hunt varmints out here don’t you?”

     He had me there, but somehow this was different. He continued his persuasion, “This is just a damn varmint. He’ll kill a calf if you don't kill him now.”

     My stomach was queasy, I swallowed hard as I raised the gun to my shoulder and took aim. “Go ahead, just do it!” The dog looked at me with those rheumy eyes imploring mercy. I wanted to throw the gun down and run away but I knew what my Grandad said was true. This dog was a real life threat to the livestock in our care. Sometimes you have to wonder, ‘can’t all us creatures live together in peace?’ But the reality is, this dog is a real threat. I took a deep breath and pulled the trigger.

 “Mmm . . .” 

“I said wake up. My alarm didn’t go off this mornin’. It’s late, the school bus will be here any moment. Now, get up! Get goin'!"