| General Fiction posted January 16, 2013 | Chapters: |
2 3 -4- 5... 
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More Summer Adventures for Rabbit and Virge
A chapter in the book Rabbit
To Laugh or Cry
by bhogg
| Background Due to his mom's pregancy, Rabbit is spending the entire summer with his grandmother. He seems to get into one predicament after another. |
The summer was passing fast. June was almost over. Things were going great. I was having lots of fun. Virge and I started a neat tree house on a big oak tree in the back yard. We were fishing a lot and actually putting fish filets in my grandmother's freezer. Life was grand. I should have known things were going too good.
I was resting on the front porch when my grandmother, Nan, drove up in her 1949 Plymouth. She was my grandmother from my mom's side. Out of the back seat, popped my older brother, John, with a small suitcase. I found out that my grandparents were headed south to Florida to take care of my sick aunt's family. John was going to be staying with us for two weeks.
When Grandma Nan got ready to leave, she came over and gave me a big hug. "Rabbit, I'm sure you've been lonely all by yourself. Won't it be nice to have your brother around to play with? Plus, you've got a birthday coming in a few days and I know that you'll want John around for that."
Well, I hugged her back and smiled. I had to just bite my tongue. Had you asked me, "Would you rather be hit in the head with a stick, or would you rather have your brother John stay with you?" I know for sure that I'd simply ask, "Now how big is that stick?"
I decided that the best thing to do was just steer clear of my brother. Lucky for me, he actually got along with my cousin Wesley. They got together a lot and rode horses. That suited me just fine. I could just continue doing what I wanted.
The next morning, I hollered out to my grandma, "I got the eggs in and pulled bugs off the tomatoes. Is there anything else you want me to do?" The 'no' response was welcome. That meant I could visit with Virge.
I walked up to his cabin, which was just a short way from their house. The cabin was of rough hewn pine, and had never seen an ounce of paint. It was weathered gray, with a sweeping wrap around porch. Inside the four room cabin were two bedrooms, a kitchen with sitting area and a living room. It had wide-planked floors throughout. The cabin was surrounded by large pecan trees, so was always shady in the summer. Virge lived there full time, and his niece, Ms. Carrie, was often visiting.
As I came to the cabin, I noticed that Virge was placing brush in a pile up front. "Hey, Virge, whatcha' doin?"
"Hey yourself, Rabbit. I'm just cleaning up a bit. I'm goin to move these old sticks and sweep up all dem leaves. You come to help ol Virge?"
"Sure - I'll help." Virge and I had a great work relationship. We helped each other do work or chores, or the two of us would go fishing, or swimming in the creek. Sometimes we would just sit on his front porch and talk.
I picked up a branch and started moving it to the burn pile, when all of a sudden, all hell broke loose. In the process of moving that branch, I had upset a large yellow jacket nest. They swarmed all around me. About five had already stung me on my arm. I near scared Virge to death, because I was doing a little dance and yelling, "Damn, damn, damn!" Virge came running over. He was swatting at me with a towel he had pulled off a line. Lifting me at the waist, he scooted me out of the area. Setting me down, he was still beating the yellow jackets away with his towel.
"Are you alright?" Virge had also been stung in the process of getting me away from the swarm, but still was preoccupied on checking on me.
"Yeah, I reckon, but my arm really hurts."
"Let me look at it." Virge pulled the sleeve back. The long sleeve cotton shirt that I was wearing didn't prevent the stings, but kept them manageable. "Rabbit, dem jackets popped you pretty good. You got five or six whelps on your arm. I know it hurts, cuz I got me some too. Your brother John would probably be crying and hollering. How come you ain't?"
"They stung you too, and you ain't crying. Plus, when I was a little boy, I decided that it didn't make much sense to cry about things that hurt you on the outside. It just don't do no good."
Virge looked at me a little puzzled and asked, "You mean you don't never cry?"
"No, I mean that I just don't cry about things that hurt me on the outside. Those jackets stung me, but crying won't make the hurt go away. Do you remember when you helped me bury my dog Skippy last week?"
Virge looked at me and replied, "Yeah, I do. That was a sad thing. Skippy was a good old dog."
"Well, I cried when that happened, because it hurt me on the inside. Come to think of it, you cried too, so burying Skippy must have hurt you on the inside too?"
"Naw, Rabbit, I wasn't crying. When I was shoveling that hole, some of dat ol red dirt blowed in my eyes... I do know some things that will make your arm feel better though. The first thing is we got to put on some chewing tobacco." Virge put a wad of tobacco in a tin can and poured some well water on it. He then mashed it all up with the handle end of a hammer. He was talking to me all the time, how this is what his daddy did for him. When he had mashed it up real good, he spread it over my arm and wrapped a rag around it. Maybe it was the constant banter, or it could be a miracle cure; all I know is that the pain went away.
After awhile, Virge spoke up, "The other thing that'll help that pain is we get back at those jackets."
"How we gonna do that?"
With a smile, Virge responded, "We find the holes in the ground, and we cover up the escape hole with one of dem barrel tops. Then we pour us some gasoline down the other hole. We cover that hole up with the other barrel top. The jackets breathe all dat stuff and they die. Old Virge has done this a million times. It always works."
Virge was pretty good on stuff like that, so it sounded like a plan. We went to my grandfather's barn and got the gas can. After locating the escape hole, Virge put the barrel top over it and told me to stand on it. He then went over to the other hole, quickly poured gas down it and covered it with the other barrel top and stood on it.
The plan was well under way when my brother John walked over. I love my brother to death now. In those days, I didn't love him too much. In fact, he was a bully and a royal pain in the ass. He approached, took a look and asked, "What ya'll doing?"
Virge brought him up to speed and explained our plan. John listened, and looking at Virge, exclaimed, "That ain't how you kill yellow jackets. We need to dump the rest of the gas can in that hole. Then we need to dump a can of kerosene over there where Rabbit is standing. The two will create a chemical reaction and kill all the yellow jackets."
Virgil rolled his eyes, and looked at John with irritation. "Mr. John, I don't know about no chemical reaction, but I'm near 90 years old and done killed lots of yellow jackets. I'm telling ya, we don't have to do more'n we've already done."
John, never short on cocky, started pouring the rest of the gas down the hole. He then walked over to the barn and got the kerosene, which he proceeded to pour down the hole I had been standing on. It should have been a hint. Already, it was obvious that the yellow jackets were most likely defeated, because there wasn't much activity out of either hole. He then covered the hole back up and told me to stand on the barrel top. He walked over to the hole near Virge, took a match out of his pocket, lit it and threw it in the hole. He then put the barrel top back on the hole and stood on it. Yelling at me, "Rabbit, take your barrel top off the hole."
I did, and nothing happened right away. All of a sudden, the ground swelled up a little and there was a sound, like, WHUMP. There was an explosion and my brother, standing on the barrel top, was actually lifted off the ground about an inch. That explosion sort of telegraphed right through that barrel top and through his bare feet. He jumped off the top and started yelling, "Ow, Ow, Ow", lifting one foot and then the other, hopping around like crazy. He looked like a herky-jerky dancer. Once we decided he wasn't seriously hurt, Virge and I started laughing. With Virge, it was so bad he actually lay on the ground and rolled. John ran away. I knew for certain that I had a beating coming. I didn't care; it was worth it.
With tears in my eyes, I looked over at Virge and said, "Hey Virge, I cry when I laugh hard too."
Catching his breath, Virge snickered, "Yeah, Rabbit, me too!"
I was resting on the front porch when my grandmother, Nan, drove up in her 1949 Plymouth. She was my grandmother from my mom's side. Out of the back seat, popped my older brother, John, with a small suitcase. I found out that my grandparents were headed south to Florida to take care of my sick aunt's family. John was going to be staying with us for two weeks.
When Grandma Nan got ready to leave, she came over and gave me a big hug. "Rabbit, I'm sure you've been lonely all by yourself. Won't it be nice to have your brother around to play with? Plus, you've got a birthday coming in a few days and I know that you'll want John around for that."
Well, I hugged her back and smiled. I had to just bite my tongue. Had you asked me, "Would you rather be hit in the head with a stick, or would you rather have your brother John stay with you?" I know for sure that I'd simply ask, "Now how big is that stick?"
I decided that the best thing to do was just steer clear of my brother. Lucky for me, he actually got along with my cousin Wesley. They got together a lot and rode horses. That suited me just fine. I could just continue doing what I wanted.
The next morning, I hollered out to my grandma, "I got the eggs in and pulled bugs off the tomatoes. Is there anything else you want me to do?" The 'no' response was welcome. That meant I could visit with Virge.
I walked up to his cabin, which was just a short way from their house. The cabin was of rough hewn pine, and had never seen an ounce of paint. It was weathered gray, with a sweeping wrap around porch. Inside the four room cabin were two bedrooms, a kitchen with sitting area and a living room. It had wide-planked floors throughout. The cabin was surrounded by large pecan trees, so was always shady in the summer. Virge lived there full time, and his niece, Ms. Carrie, was often visiting.
As I came to the cabin, I noticed that Virge was placing brush in a pile up front. "Hey, Virge, whatcha' doin?"
"Hey yourself, Rabbit. I'm just cleaning up a bit. I'm goin to move these old sticks and sweep up all dem leaves. You come to help ol Virge?"
"Sure - I'll help." Virge and I had a great work relationship. We helped each other do work or chores, or the two of us would go fishing, or swimming in the creek. Sometimes we would just sit on his front porch and talk.
I picked up a branch and started moving it to the burn pile, when all of a sudden, all hell broke loose. In the process of moving that branch, I had upset a large yellow jacket nest. They swarmed all around me. About five had already stung me on my arm. I near scared Virge to death, because I was doing a little dance and yelling, "Damn, damn, damn!" Virge came running over. He was swatting at me with a towel he had pulled off a line. Lifting me at the waist, he scooted me out of the area. Setting me down, he was still beating the yellow jackets away with his towel.
"Are you alright?" Virge had also been stung in the process of getting me away from the swarm, but still was preoccupied on checking on me.
"Yeah, I reckon, but my arm really hurts."
"Let me look at it." Virge pulled the sleeve back. The long sleeve cotton shirt that I was wearing didn't prevent the stings, but kept them manageable. "Rabbit, dem jackets popped you pretty good. You got five or six whelps on your arm. I know it hurts, cuz I got me some too. Your brother John would probably be crying and hollering. How come you ain't?"
"They stung you too, and you ain't crying. Plus, when I was a little boy, I decided that it didn't make much sense to cry about things that hurt you on the outside. It just don't do no good."
Virge looked at me a little puzzled and asked, "You mean you don't never cry?"
"No, I mean that I just don't cry about things that hurt me on the outside. Those jackets stung me, but crying won't make the hurt go away. Do you remember when you helped me bury my dog Skippy last week?"
Virge looked at me and replied, "Yeah, I do. That was a sad thing. Skippy was a good old dog."
"Well, I cried when that happened, because it hurt me on the inside. Come to think of it, you cried too, so burying Skippy must have hurt you on the inside too?"
"Naw, Rabbit, I wasn't crying. When I was shoveling that hole, some of dat ol red dirt blowed in my eyes... I do know some things that will make your arm feel better though. The first thing is we got to put on some chewing tobacco." Virge put a wad of tobacco in a tin can and poured some well water on it. He then mashed it all up with the handle end of a hammer. He was talking to me all the time, how this is what his daddy did for him. When he had mashed it up real good, he spread it over my arm and wrapped a rag around it. Maybe it was the constant banter, or it could be a miracle cure; all I know is that the pain went away.
After awhile, Virge spoke up, "The other thing that'll help that pain is we get back at those jackets."
"How we gonna do that?"
With a smile, Virge responded, "We find the holes in the ground, and we cover up the escape hole with one of dem barrel tops. Then we pour us some gasoline down the other hole. We cover that hole up with the other barrel top. The jackets breathe all dat stuff and they die. Old Virge has done this a million times. It always works."
Virge was pretty good on stuff like that, so it sounded like a plan. We went to my grandfather's barn and got the gas can. After locating the escape hole, Virge put the barrel top over it and told me to stand on it. He then went over to the other hole, quickly poured gas down it and covered it with the other barrel top and stood on it.
The plan was well under way when my brother John walked over. I love my brother to death now. In those days, I didn't love him too much. In fact, he was a bully and a royal pain in the ass. He approached, took a look and asked, "What ya'll doing?"
Virge brought him up to speed and explained our plan. John listened, and looking at Virge, exclaimed, "That ain't how you kill yellow jackets. We need to dump the rest of the gas can in that hole. Then we need to dump a can of kerosene over there where Rabbit is standing. The two will create a chemical reaction and kill all the yellow jackets."
Virgil rolled his eyes, and looked at John with irritation. "Mr. John, I don't know about no chemical reaction, but I'm near 90 years old and done killed lots of yellow jackets. I'm telling ya, we don't have to do more'n we've already done."
John, never short on cocky, started pouring the rest of the gas down the hole. He then walked over to the barn and got the kerosene, which he proceeded to pour down the hole I had been standing on. It should have been a hint. Already, it was obvious that the yellow jackets were most likely defeated, because there wasn't much activity out of either hole. He then covered the hole back up and told me to stand on the barrel top. He walked over to the hole near Virge, took a match out of his pocket, lit it and threw it in the hole. He then put the barrel top back on the hole and stood on it. Yelling at me, "Rabbit, take your barrel top off the hole."
I did, and nothing happened right away. All of a sudden, the ground swelled up a little and there was a sound, like, WHUMP. There was an explosion and my brother, standing on the barrel top, was actually lifted off the ground about an inch. That explosion sort of telegraphed right through that barrel top and through his bare feet. He jumped off the top and started yelling, "Ow, Ow, Ow", lifting one foot and then the other, hopping around like crazy. He looked like a herky-jerky dancer. Once we decided he wasn't seriously hurt, Virge and I started laughing. With Virge, it was so bad he actually lay on the ground and rolled. John ran away. I knew for certain that I had a beating coming. I didn't care; it was worth it.
With tears in my eyes, I looked over at Virge and said, "Hey Virge, I cry when I laugh hard too."
Catching his breath, Virge snickered, "Yeah, Rabbit, me too!"
 Recognized |
|
List of characters:
Rabbit - young boy almost nine
Grandma Louise (on the father's side)
Grandpa Horris (on the father's side)
Grandma Nan (on his mother's side)
Pappy (Grandpa on his mother's side)
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
John - Rabbit's older brother and constant nemesis
*** This is a novel, so if some things don't make sense, please be aware that there are previous chapters. I wish I could make each chapter a stand alone masterpiece, but ...
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Rabbit - young boy almost nine
Grandma Louise (on the father's side)
Grandpa Horris (on the father's side)
Grandma Nan (on his mother's side)
Pappy (Grandpa on his mother's side)
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
John - Rabbit's older brother and constant nemesis
*** This is a novel, so if some things don't make sense, please be aware that there are previous chapters. I wish I could make each chapter a stand alone masterpiece, but ...
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