| General Fiction posted February 13, 2013 | Chapters: |
...5 6 -7- 8... 
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Further summer adventures for Rabbit
A chapter in the book Rabbit
To Kill a Fly
by bhogg
| Background The young boy, nicknamed Rabbit, learns that he is to stay with his grandparents for the entire summer of 1959. It's a summer of adventure and growth. |
My Grandma Louise and Grandpa Horace were going to spend the weekend in Atlanta. Grandpa had to attend a pre-retirement meeting with the rail company. I suppose I should have been happy for them to get away, but I wasn't. It meant spending the weekend with my other grandparents.
Don't get me wrong, my other grandparents, Nan and Pappy, were great. They only lived three miles from where I stayed. Their property was in the country and had many of the things that provide adventure for a young boy. There was a farm, all sorts of animals, a great barn and a wonderful creek to swim in. One small problem; their place was where my older brother John was spending the summer.
I was dropped off at my grandma's. She gave me a big hug and ushered me into the kitchen. Sitting down at the table and sipping on iced tea, we talked a bit. Her first question, probably a good one, "Why don't you and John get along better?"
I chewed on my fingernail before replying, "Grandma, have you ever seen Flash Gordon at the movies?"
With a puzzled look, she replied, "Yes, why do you ask?"
"Well, I figure that wherever John is staying is the planet Mongo. If I'm there, sooner or later I'll have to fight my arch-enemy, and it ain't Ming the Merciless. It's John."
With a smile, she said, "Well, we're just going to keep the two of you apart. You can sleep downstairs in the bedroom next to mine. John is sleeping upstairs."
I believe that my grandparents were the last people on earth who didn't have a television set. I didn't mind one bit. After dinner, we would all gravitate toward the living room. The walls were made up of bookshelves. Since this was Saturday night we would listen to a radio show called Midwestern Hayride. My grandpa, (Pappy), had a radio that was about as big as the television set we had at home. He would turn it up loud for the country music and some of the corniest jokes you'll ever hear. If we behaved, we could stay up and listen to either Gunsmoke or Ranger Bill.
I especially liked Gunsmoke. Lying down with my eyes closed, I could see everything. You could hear the horses clip-clopping, the glasses clinking in Ms. Kitty's bar and the sounds of gunfights. Marshal Dillon was talking to Chester that night and said, "I didn't want to shoot him, but dag burn it, he deserved it." In the semi-darkness, I glared at my brother.
The next morning started out okay, but John and I managed to start arguing before breakfast was over.
Exasperated, my grandmother finally said, "You two are just going to have to quit arguing. I can see why your momma wanted you two separated. I've got a job for you after breakfast that I hope will keep you occupied."
John has always been shifty-eyed. This morning was no different. With a glint, he asked, "What kind of job?"
"Well, you just finish your breakfast and I'll show you."
After breakfast, Grandma led us to the patio. When we got out, she gave us each a fly-swatter. She explained the job.
"I've got some ladies coming over today after lunch and we'll all want to sit outside and enjoy the shade of the patio. I want you two to kill flies. Each one of you keep your own stack of dead flies. Later on, I'll give you a penny for each fly you kill."
Old shifty-eyed, John asked, "It don't seem like it would do much good to kill one fly. How come you want us to do it?"
"Well, Mr. Smarty, I'll tell you. More than half of the flies are females, and each female can lay 1,000 eggs during her lifetime. More than half of those eggs can become more female flies which in turn will lay 1,000 more eggs. If the fly you kill is a male fly, he can never fertilize any more eggs. Even you should understand that killing that one fly can eliminate millions."
"Okay, if each one can keep millions from being born, it should be worth more than a penny."
"Don't you worry about the math, John. You sit over there, and Rabbit, you sit over there. I'll bring you some ice-water in about an hour to see how you're doing."
I didn't care what John thought. To me, a penny per fly seemed a good deal. It's easy for me to focus on things, especially when there's money to be earned. I was getting into it. Looking at my stack of flies, I counted twenty-five. It was impossible to tell how many John had, but it didn't look like many.
Despite my concentration, it became obvious that the glass of milk and glass of juice I had for breakfast needed to be relieved. I looked at John before saying, "I've got to go in to the bathroom. Don't mess with my flies."
After a few minutes I came back out. A quick glance at my fly pile revealed a crime. With fury, I turned to John and said, "Okay, butt-face, you took some of my flies."
"No I didn't. You must not have killed them good. They just revived themselves and flew off."
With that lame explanation, I swatted the biggest fly on the patio, John. The fight began.
The shouting brought Grandma Nan out to the patio.
"My God, I can't leave you two together for one hour and already you're fighting. What in the world happened?"
"When I went in to go to the bathroom, John stole some of my flies."
With a stern look, Grandma asked, "Is that right, John?"
"No Ma'am. I figure that he just didn't kill them enough and they flew away."
"That doesn't seem likely, but I don't have time to referee. I'm going to just give each one of you a quarter. John, you go down to the old house and help Pappy clean it up. Rabbit, you go to the garden and pull worms off the tomatoes and beans. Put the worms in a can so you can feed them to the chickens."
We both went our own ways. It was better to be up in the garden by myself than around John. The truth be known, I loved working in the garden. When with my other grandparents, there were daily chores for me in the garden. Saving the worms for the chickens was a new one for me though. After pulling just a few worms off and giving them to the chickens, it was obvious that they loved them. It was also obvious why my grandma let the chickens run free range through her garden. There wasn't a single worm low to the ground.
If you looked out across the garden, you could see sun waves rise from the ground. I was about ready to take a water break when the neatest bug possible appeared on a tomato plant. It was a long bug, green in color and had two long, spiked forelegs. It was almost invisible and was faced away from me. It rotated its head backwards and was looking at me with two huge eyes. I whacked it with a stick.
Picking up my find, I rushed to find my grandmother. She was sitting on the patio, flyswatter in hand.
Yelling, I called out, "Grandma, Grandma, I killed a baby dinosaur."
"You what?"
"I killed a baby dinosaur." Holding my treasure out, I said, "Here it is."
"Oh Rabbit, that's not a baby dinosaur. That's a preying mantis. Your grandpa buys mantis egg casings every year and spreads them through the garden. They hatch and then begin to devour insects. Mantises are good things, not something to be killed."
I didn't know. I later found out that my grandparents were way ahead of their time. They were green in the days when people just thought it was just a color.
About that time, Pappy was walking up the hill with my brother, John. One look and you could tell he wasn't happy.
Grandma asked, "What's wrong?"
Shaking his head he said, "Oh nothing much. John was just playing with matches and almost burned the old house down. No real harm. I'll just leave the windows open a few days for the smell to go out."
Looking at Pappy, Grandma said, "Our daughter has raised John, Rabbit and Bob and now has one more on the way. All of this, and she still retains her sanity. We need to call the Pope. She is obviously a saint."
Don't get me wrong, my other grandparents, Nan and Pappy, were great. They only lived three miles from where I stayed. Their property was in the country and had many of the things that provide adventure for a young boy. There was a farm, all sorts of animals, a great barn and a wonderful creek to swim in. One small problem; their place was where my older brother John was spending the summer.
I was dropped off at my grandma's. She gave me a big hug and ushered me into the kitchen. Sitting down at the table and sipping on iced tea, we talked a bit. Her first question, probably a good one, "Why don't you and John get along better?"
I chewed on my fingernail before replying, "Grandma, have you ever seen Flash Gordon at the movies?"
With a puzzled look, she replied, "Yes, why do you ask?"
"Well, I figure that wherever John is staying is the planet Mongo. If I'm there, sooner or later I'll have to fight my arch-enemy, and it ain't Ming the Merciless. It's John."
With a smile, she said, "Well, we're just going to keep the two of you apart. You can sleep downstairs in the bedroom next to mine. John is sleeping upstairs."
I believe that my grandparents were the last people on earth who didn't have a television set. I didn't mind one bit. After dinner, we would all gravitate toward the living room. The walls were made up of bookshelves. Since this was Saturday night we would listen to a radio show called Midwestern Hayride. My grandpa, (Pappy), had a radio that was about as big as the television set we had at home. He would turn it up loud for the country music and some of the corniest jokes you'll ever hear. If we behaved, we could stay up and listen to either Gunsmoke or Ranger Bill.
I especially liked Gunsmoke. Lying down with my eyes closed, I could see everything. You could hear the horses clip-clopping, the glasses clinking in Ms. Kitty's bar and the sounds of gunfights. Marshal Dillon was talking to Chester that night and said, "I didn't want to shoot him, but dag burn it, he deserved it." In the semi-darkness, I glared at my brother.
The next morning started out okay, but John and I managed to start arguing before breakfast was over.
Exasperated, my grandmother finally said, "You two are just going to have to quit arguing. I can see why your momma wanted you two separated. I've got a job for you after breakfast that I hope will keep you occupied."
John has always been shifty-eyed. This morning was no different. With a glint, he asked, "What kind of job?"
"Well, you just finish your breakfast and I'll show you."
After breakfast, Grandma led us to the patio. When we got out, she gave us each a fly-swatter. She explained the job.
"I've got some ladies coming over today after lunch and we'll all want to sit outside and enjoy the shade of the patio. I want you two to kill flies. Each one of you keep your own stack of dead flies. Later on, I'll give you a penny for each fly you kill."
Old shifty-eyed, John asked, "It don't seem like it would do much good to kill one fly. How come you want us to do it?"
"Well, Mr. Smarty, I'll tell you. More than half of the flies are females, and each female can lay 1,000 eggs during her lifetime. More than half of those eggs can become more female flies which in turn will lay 1,000 more eggs. If the fly you kill is a male fly, he can never fertilize any more eggs. Even you should understand that killing that one fly can eliminate millions."
"Okay, if each one can keep millions from being born, it should be worth more than a penny."
"Don't you worry about the math, John. You sit over there, and Rabbit, you sit over there. I'll bring you some ice-water in about an hour to see how you're doing."
I didn't care what John thought. To me, a penny per fly seemed a good deal. It's easy for me to focus on things, especially when there's money to be earned. I was getting into it. Looking at my stack of flies, I counted twenty-five. It was impossible to tell how many John had, but it didn't look like many.
Despite my concentration, it became obvious that the glass of milk and glass of juice I had for breakfast needed to be relieved. I looked at John before saying, "I've got to go in to the bathroom. Don't mess with my flies."
After a few minutes I came back out. A quick glance at my fly pile revealed a crime. With fury, I turned to John and said, "Okay, butt-face, you took some of my flies."
"No I didn't. You must not have killed them good. They just revived themselves and flew off."
With that lame explanation, I swatted the biggest fly on the patio, John. The fight began.
The shouting brought Grandma Nan out to the patio.
"My God, I can't leave you two together for one hour and already you're fighting. What in the world happened?"
"When I went in to go to the bathroom, John stole some of my flies."
With a stern look, Grandma asked, "Is that right, John?"
"No Ma'am. I figure that he just didn't kill them enough and they flew away."
"That doesn't seem likely, but I don't have time to referee. I'm going to just give each one of you a quarter. John, you go down to the old house and help Pappy clean it up. Rabbit, you go to the garden and pull worms off the tomatoes and beans. Put the worms in a can so you can feed them to the chickens."
We both went our own ways. It was better to be up in the garden by myself than around John. The truth be known, I loved working in the garden. When with my other grandparents, there were daily chores for me in the garden. Saving the worms for the chickens was a new one for me though. After pulling just a few worms off and giving them to the chickens, it was obvious that they loved them. It was also obvious why my grandma let the chickens run free range through her garden. There wasn't a single worm low to the ground.
If you looked out across the garden, you could see sun waves rise from the ground. I was about ready to take a water break when the neatest bug possible appeared on a tomato plant. It was a long bug, green in color and had two long, spiked forelegs. It was almost invisible and was faced away from me. It rotated its head backwards and was looking at me with two huge eyes. I whacked it with a stick.
Picking up my find, I rushed to find my grandmother. She was sitting on the patio, flyswatter in hand.
Yelling, I called out, "Grandma, Grandma, I killed a baby dinosaur."
"You what?"
"I killed a baby dinosaur." Holding my treasure out, I said, "Here it is."
"Oh Rabbit, that's not a baby dinosaur. That's a preying mantis. Your grandpa buys mantis egg casings every year and spreads them through the garden. They hatch and then begin to devour insects. Mantises are good things, not something to be killed."
I didn't know. I later found out that my grandparents were way ahead of their time. They were green in the days when people just thought it was just a color.
About that time, Pappy was walking up the hill with my brother, John. One look and you could tell he wasn't happy.
Grandma asked, "What's wrong?"
Shaking his head he said, "Oh nothing much. John was just playing with matches and almost burned the old house down. No real harm. I'll just leave the windows open a few days for the smell to go out."
Looking at Pappy, Grandma said, "Our daughter has raised John, Rabbit and Bob and now has one more on the way. All of this, and she still retains her sanity. We need to call the Pope. She is obviously a saint."
 Recognized |
|
List of characters:
Rabbit - young boy nine years old
Grandma Louise (on the father's side)
Grandpa Horace (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
Carol - First cousin, daughter of his mother's brother
*** 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 nine years old
Grandma Louise (on the father's side)
Grandpa Horace (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
Carol - First cousin, daughter of his mother's brother
*** 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 ...
Artwork by Lucien van Oosten at FanArtReview.com
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