BEAU

chapter 5

Old Struck

The end of our adventure.

         Me and Beau didn't see each other for a while after that 'cause our mamas said they needed a break from the shenanigans we had caused.  When I did see him again, Beau was wearing his brand-new, store-bought overalls.  His paw had sold some good deer pelts for less than what they were worth so Beau could have some britches.  His Maw gave him what fer over all the trouble he had caused and warned him that them overalls had best last all his born days until he became an adult and maybe a long time after that. 

          It felt good bein' friends again, full of fun.  One day we decided to head over to the clearin' by “old struck” and just hang about.  Paw said it was good for us because we could learn to be better swampers.  “If'n you'd just go somewheres in the swamp and stand still for a while, you might get to know them critters and their habits. It'll help you trap better,” he said.  “They gonna' stay hidden long as you boys keep makin' all that racket.”  Beau said he already knew them critters and he weren't 'bout to go stand still in that old swamp waitin' for them critters to show their face, ‘cause the skeeters and chiggers would eat us alive.  “Besides,” said Beau, “some old bobcat might sneak up on us and have us for dinner.”  I said we should climb up on old struck to watch for the critters, but Beau said he would get sleepy and fall off the limb and the old buzzards would come and invite all their friends to a buzzard party over our dead bodies. Said they'd eat mine first since I was sweeter.  I said, “Wait a cotton-pickin’ minute,” and hit him up-side the head.   We wrestled for a while before sittin' on the ground, back-to-back.  “Ain't nothin' sneakin' up on us today 'ceptin' them skeeters,” Beau laughed.

          Weren't long before we heard some rustlin' about in the leaves. Beau whispered it must be a bear sneakin' up, but it weren't really nothin' but some old birds searchin' for somethin' to eat.  Just as I was about to fall asleep myself and cause the buzzard party, Beau heard a “plink” in the water.  A squirrel had dropped some of its pinecone dinner into the water.  Then we saw a snake swim over to investigate before catchin' some small frogs instead.

            'Bout the time we was learnin' somethin' 'bout the swamp we realized things got mighty quiet.  I think it sorta crept up on us.  First the wind started to blow, and it felt so cool and refreshin' after all that hot sun that we didn't pay it no mind a'tall.  Then everythin' got real still, and the birds stopped their singin'. It sure was quiet.  Kinda spooky and in these parts of the swamp things can get real spooky, if'n one set his mind to it.  Beau looked at me and I looked at him and then, “BOOM”, that first bit oflightnin' struck.  Beau's feet never touched the ground as he knocked me down while I was fixin' to run for home.  Then the rain came poundin' down hard on us.  So hard we couldn't see straight. I ran one way and Beau ran the other, chasin' each other round and round cause we couldn't see nothin'.  Everythin' looked the same. Weren't long before we ran smack dab back into “old struck”.  Sure, felt good to find somethin' familiar even if it was “old struck”.  Beau said we oughta stay there a while till the rain let up some, but I weren't too happy 'bout stayin' under this tree 'cause that lightnin' and thunder was strikin' faster'n a cornered rattlesnake.  I just knew today would be the day that “old struck” got struck again.  But Beau just crossed his arms and sat down right at the foot of that tree and said he weren't gonna budge till it was over.  I reckon we stayed there all night, the rain never lettin' up enough for us to see ten feet.  We was shiverin' so hard we almost lost our you-know-whats.

          The next mornin' we began to shoutin' and hollerin' but no one ever heard us.   We were too wet and cold to really care, anyway.   And that rain was still poundin' and the lightnin' still flashin' like old Noah was gonna show up with his boat any minute. I said I bet old Noah was glad it was rainin' so he could wash them animals.  Beau said he didn't know how Mrs. Noah could stand being on that boat with them stinkin' animals roamin' about.  He said he bet she was runnin' round like a chicken with its head cut off, what with cleanin' up after all 'em.  “If'n I was Mrs. Noah,” he said, “I wouldn't a put up with all that mess.  I’d a made him make two boats, one for the family and one for all them critters with a long rope connectin' them two and if Mr. Noah wanted to have a hissy-fit he could join the other boat.” 

          “Beau,” I shouted, “we gonna drown down here under “old struck.  This rain's a real frogwash.  The gators gonna have their own party bout us goin' away.  I ain't ready to die.”  Bout that time, before Beau could answer his sassy self, “BOOM!” That lightnin' hit so close that the whole swamp shook.  We took off like hound dog s chasin’ coons.  That next bolt hit “old struck” so hard that it split in two, right where Beau had been sittin'.  Then a fire started up.  “We better head for the barn, Beau,” I shouted, “we better start runnin'.   Beau!”  Beau didn't move.  I shouted more.  Still no movin'.  Beau had been hit by a limb and was bleedin' and I was too scared to have noticed.  His leg sure looked funny.  By now, that fire was creepin' up on us faster-n a hot knife through butter. I had to throw Beau over my shoulders, midst all his hollerin' and groanin', to not burn.  Possums and coons and deer were runnin' all around us trying to escape the fire.  “My leg, my leg!” Beau shouted.  “I can't move.”   I said, “Beau, we're in a heap of trouble if'n we don't high tail it.” 

          The fire was all around us, ceptin' a spot out in the water so I jerked Beau up again and headed out.  Water was up to our chests and gators and snakes were all around us, but they didn't never mind, 'cause they was escapin' that fire too.  So, there we sat with the fire and gators and snakes sayin' their howdy-do as they passed on by.  We were still in that water when the fire stopped and climbed on the land again and that’s where we was sittin’ when our paws found us.  Said we had been gone for two days and that fire finally hushed itself up over by the landin'.  Beau's leg was mighty swollen now, and his Paw said he reckon it were broken so we made a splint with that charred wood and hauled us out'a that swamp.  Paw said he reckoned “old struck” had finally bit the dust.

          Our maws started cryin' and huggin' and kissin' us when we got to the clearin' but when Beau's maw took one look at his overalls, she said she was gonna jerk a knot in his tail for messin' up them brand-new store-bought britches.  Said she weren't gonna fix 'em anymore and he'd just have-ta be buried in ‘em. 

          Beau didn't get us into any more trouble after that what with his broke leg and such that we just lazed around the house helpin' our paws skin the animals they trapped. Winter was comin' soon, and our paws had killed enough beaver, deer, coon, and nutria pelts to get through the winter.  Yes sir, we was simply good ole' boys livin' down in the swamp.

          My family moved not long after that so that my sisters could have a right schoolin'.  I didn't see much of Beau after that, but I do know that Beau had been savin' some pelts he had trapped and when he had gotten enough went to Mr. Higgins' store and sold them.  He had enough to buy his mama a new dress for her birthday since she had put up with enough of his shenanigans to last a lifetime. 

Bless his heart.

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