General Fiction posted January 13, 2013 Chapters: 1 2 -3- 4... 


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Ongoing story of a young boy's summer

A chapter in the book Rabbit

The Truth Sometimes Hurts

by bhogg



Background
Rabbit discovers he is to spend the entire summer with his grandparents. He seems to get in one predicament after another.
Saturday mornings were always special. My grandma and grandpa  would go to town where they would take chicken, eggs, or sometimes milk to the farmers market. Sometimes I would tag along, but they preferred me going to the movies.  Since they didn't like me going by myself, they would pick up my cousin Wesley to go as well.  Wesley was ten years old. I should be kind since he's my cousin, but there's no way around it. Wesley was weird. He was short, fat and had a crew-cut. Not just any kind of crew-cut, but one where his hair, right in front, was combed up and set with Brylcreem. If a little dab would do it, he used a bucketful. His two front teeth were large and slightly gapped. Like my friend Virge, I liked nicknames. I called him Beaver, until his mom told my grandma. She told me to quit.

She must not have talked to Virge. Since he called his niece Sugar Butts, he shortened the nickname for Wesley to plain old Sugar.

All Wesley wanted to do and talk about was ride horses. One look at him and you would know he must be riding rather than walking.

I once asked my grandma why I couldn't go to the movies with Virge. She quit rocking and looked at me before replying, "Well, Rabbit, the theater doesn't allow nigras to sit down where you sit. They have to sit upstairs in the balcony."

"Well, that ain't no problem. I'll just sit up there with Virge."

"Honey, I don't think that would work out. Plus, your cousin Wesley really enjoys going with you." I just rolled my eyes. I did give it my best shot.

Wesley and I had our routine down pat. Grandma and Grandpa would drop us downtown and give me two dollars. Wesley always had money of his own. In fact, he would have so much change in his pockets that he would jingle as he walked. It was embarrassing. We'd head over to Charlie Josesph's for lunch. You could get a hot dog and bag of chips for fifty cents. For a dime you could get a cola. Wesley always got the cola. I'd get ice water, because I'd want that dime in the theater.

After lunch, we'd waltz around the block to the theater. It cost fifty cents to get in. Once there, a large popcorn and a cola would set you back seventy five cents. If I felt like it, I'd lay into a bag of Raisinettes or a Baby Ruth.

The format was pretty much the same. Usually there was an ongoing serial. At the time, we were into Flash Gordon. That would be followed by a cartoon, a news reel and then the movie, which was generally a cheesy  scary show or a Western. This particular Saturday was different. The movie was great . It was called 'High Noon'. It was about a sheriff who met a lady who didn't want him shooting up people any more. He was supposed to be on his last day on the job. Anyhow, this guy he sent to prison comes back to town and poor Sheriff Kane couldn't get anyone to help him. It looked like it would end with a gunfight between him and the outlaw Frank Miller.

Halfway in the movie, Wesley leaned over and whispered, "We could be home riding horses. This movie is dumb."

I just elbowed him and growled, "Shut Up." I was at the edge of my chair for the entire movie.

I go into this detail for a reason. As I sat there, I kept thinking, my grandpa has a gun that looks like Sheriff Kane's.

Later that afternoon at the farm, my grandparents said that they were going to walk down to the pond and try a little fishing and did I want to go. I said, "No, I'm really tired. I'll just stay home and watch television." They should have been suspicious. I'm never too tired to go fishing.

They weren't out the door and I started looking for that gun. The first place I looked was Grandpa's underwear drawer. What I found, though not what I was looking for, was quite interesting. It was a large, 80 count box of condoms. My older brother had told me all about 'rubbers', but the picture I had in my head wasn't even close. Somehow, I pictured inner-tube black rubber that had to be strapped on. The inside box cover included instructions that showed me I was wrong. All of them in the box were wrapped in their own little red packages. Hmmm, Trojans. I put one in my pocket for later study. Now I had another mystery to solve; who the heck did they belong to?

With the second drawer, I hit pay-dirt. Under some pajamas was a .38 police special, the gun I was looking for. I once saw my grandpa use the gun to shoot a snake in the chicken house. This was not a modern looking gun. It was a big old, bulky revolver and looked much like Sheriff Kane's.

I figured my grandparents were now down by the pond, about a quarter of a mile from the home place. It seemed safe enough to pull the gun out, stick it through my belt and practice fast draw in front of the wall mirror. I thought I was getting pretty good, pulling the gun from my belt, doing a quarter turn and pretending to shoot old Frank Miller. All of a sudden, the gun went off with a loud bang. It punched a hole through the mirror, not through old Frank, but right about at what would have been my belly button.

Tossing the gun back in the drawer, I ran for all I was worth. I circled back around behind the pond and up to my grandparents who were coming up the hill. Almost out of breath, I bleated, "Did ya'll hear that? It sounded like a gun shot."

All the way back to the house, I was trying to think of a story. I'm pretty good at that sort of thing.  Unfortunately, I came up with nothing. My grandfather asked a question with little wiggle room. "Rabbit did you take my gun out of the drawer and shoot it?"

"Yes, Sir, I did. Sheriff Kane had a gun like it in the movie this morning. I just wanted to see a real one."

"Well, Rabbit, there won't be a movie in your plans for awhile now. I'm going to have to figure out some extra chores so you can pay for a new mirror."




Recognized


List of characters:
Rabbit - young boy almost nine
Virge Gates - 87 year old black man, Rabbit's good friend
Sugar Butts - Virge's nickname for his niece, Ms. Carry
Wesley - Rabbit's cousin
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