Go West Young Man pt. 3

It was not unusual to encounter little critters that stung or bit while in our ‘well-insulated’ trailer. It varied from the occasional black widow spider in the bathroom to scorpions in the kitchen sink. On one occasion, I may have attempted to move the water stopper out of the way to see the baby scorpion better. On the other hand( no pun intended), my father and mother suddenly had the strong impression that I was attempting to pick up the scorpion. At that moment, a couple of the hairs on both their heads suddenly turned gray. Little did I know that it foreshadowed more to come as I matured into an adventurous young man. 

While living in the trailer, it was decided that both Erika and I were allowed to get kittens. My sister picked out a calico that she named Chigger. I picked out a black cat whom I named Tigger. It was not uncommon for the cats to bring back critters they had caught in the desert; the critters might be the random tarantula or Rosy Boa. On one occasion, I managed to save the life of a ground squirrel dangling from Tigger's mouth. When I saw the poor animal hanging there, I quickly ran to Tigger and pried it from his teeth. As one could picture, there lay a pitiful little creature in my hands that had just moments before been on Death’s doorstep as a result of a ferocious feline. As I crouched there, holding the poor thing, it suddenly transformed before my six-year-old eyes. The poor ‘puppy dog’ eyes that gazed up at me glazed over, began to bulge and look bloodshot. The Squirrel’s teeth suddenly looked more like fangs. In an instant, the poor, hapless creature metamorphosed into a blood-thirsty creature that you might see in Monty Python’s Grail. Before I could react, the ravenous creature opened its jaws and sank fangs into my finger. With the strength of Nolan Ryan, I threw the squirrel into the air. End over end, the squirrel flew, bulging eyeballs, bushy tail, bulging eyeballs, bushy tail, until it landed in the sandy dirt. Quickly, I looked at the blood that was pouring out of the end of my finger. I lunged for the squirrel monster with a ferocious scream like a Pict. By Jove, vengeance would be mine. With one quick look up at me, the pitiful creature darted a few feet and disappeared into a hole in the ground. Glaring through tears at the hole, a wounded, wild-eyed child giant vowed that no other squirrel would live to see a furry old age. 

So it seemed that if I was not tangling with some sort of creature, I somehow would manage to get wrapped up into a cactus. One scene that needles my memory is when I decided to take it upon myself to teach my little brother, Joe, how to throw. Being the mature older bother, it only made sense that it should fall on my shoulders in this teaching endeavor. I explained to him that the best way to learn and practice was simply to use rocks. You would never run out of them, and you would also be able to practice with a wide variety of shapes and sizes. As I explained this to him, I gathered up a couple of different rocks. Showing him the different rocks that I had collected, I explained that for our first day of practice, we would simply aim for the garbage can that sat a mere twenty feet away. I dropped my handful of rocks and then selected the first one I would be teaching with. Winding up, I let loose. Bang! It hit the trash can dead center. Joe then picked up a rock and attempted to throw it. 'No, no, no,' I exclaimed in an exasperated tone. 'You have to throw it like this!' I picked up another one of the stones that I had selected. Taking a few more steps back, I wound up and let the rock loose. Bang! Sure enough, I hit it again dead center. At that moment, I simply could not contain myself and broke out into celebration. My hands waving in the air, I jumped up and down and took a step back. This was the moment that sealed my demise. Stepping backwards, I stumbled in the moment of celebration, and as if in slow motion, I fell backwards. As I fell, I reached both hands out behind me to help catch my fall. My fall suddenly came to a sudden stop, but not because I had caught my fall. A sharp pain suddenly shot up from my ol' derriere. In an instant, I realized that no, I had not landed on the ground. In fact, the painfully obvious issue was that the 'chair' that I sat down on was a barrel cactus. For those who have not had the privilege of seeing this type of cactus, it is a round plant with a million thorns that grow amazingly long. 'Ahhhhh,' I screamed! Not only had I sat down on a cactus, but it was at the perfect height where I could not push off the ground or stand up. I was literally stuck to a cactus. 'Hhhheeeeelllllllpppppp,' I screamed. My mother suddenly appeared from around the corner of the house. After pealing me off of the cactus, it was determined that the ol' bahookie looked like a dartboard that had been hit a hundred times. Just as quickly as my coaching career began with pitching, even faster did it disappear. Retirement was just too good to pass up.

As I previously mentioned, I grew up much faster than I should have. I started shooting pool regularly. Some of the guys who were in the program were hustlers and pool sharks. They would teach me shooting techniques and what types of angles to look for. I liked playing it a lot and got decent at it. At the same time, there were some neighborhood kids that I began getting to know. It was not uncommon to find a group of us out running around through the desert. Most of the kids were older than me, so they showed me around the block. We decided that we were going to meet up on Saturdays and get into trouble. To commemorate the group, we decided that we would smoke cigarettes. Yeah, you're correct. I was just six and a half going on seven.

One Saturday sticks out more than most others. I had been invited over to my buddy Jason's house. Jason, his brother Tom, and I spent the day horsing around. Their mom would make an appearance here and there, but man, she smelled and acted funny. Eventually, it was time for me to head back to the house. Jason and Tom's mom told us to jump in the back of the El Camino that she drove. Before we knew it, we were roaring down the road. Every once in a while, she would glance back and yell at us with a big grin, holding up the can she was working on. Man, was she a good driver. I mean, she used the whole frick'n road. Fishtail'n like nobody's business. The three of us were clinging to whatever we could hold onto in the little bed of the Camino. Rip'n and tearing, we ended up back at the ranch. Jason's mom slammed on the breaks, dust settling around us. I jumped out of the bed. 'See ya later,' I yelled with a big grin. As I ran back to the house, I realized that everyone was down at the swimming pool. I ran inside and pulled on some swimming trunks before heading down to the pool. Running through the gate, I kicked off my flipflops, threw down my towel, yelled 'Cannonball!' and launched myself into the water. Of course, I came out of the water spluttering because I was always laughing and not able to close my mouth. I don't think it was very long before all of a sudden, I heard a kid wailing. I peered up out of the water, from the edge of the pool and saw Tom running towards us. He was covered in a mixture of dirt and blood. 'I need help,' he yelled, 'Mom wrecked the car.' She had crashed the car, sending the two brothers flying out of the back of the car. Consequences of drinking all day and then driving.

Like in so many situations, the kids pay the price for the decisions made by the adults...