Wild Turkey Summer - Waiting for the Rain IP

Cherry

By hudsonmoon

Thu, 12 Sep 2013
  • 1435 reads
10 comments
 
 
 
If the rain comes
They run and hide their heads
They might as well be dead
If the rain comes
 
“I don’t know where Lennon was when he wrote that,” said Lee,"but it sure wasn’t on the banks of Lake Mosley.”
 
“That’s for sure,” said Michelle.
 
Lee and Michelle had traveled a thousand miles to visit the site of Lee Morgan’s eternal summers. The two had planned a weekend of swimming and fishing.
 
“Every July my parents would drive us to this spot and pitch Dad’s old army surplus tent. We’d set up camp for the month and have the time of our lives. Now look at it. I had no idea."
 
This past summer Jefferson county experienced the worst drought in over fifty years. Lake Mosley was at zero capacity. It just about killed the county’s tourist industry.
Families had been traveling to this southern vacation mecca for over a century. Now it was nothing but a refuge for old tires and abandoned household appliances. 
 
“People see a hole in the ground and damn if they don’t get a notion to dump something into it," said Lee.
 
Lee and Michelle sat on their blanket eating sandwiches and drinking wine. They both had there eyes on the barren lake and seemed to be staring at the same thing. Michelle turned down the radio and pointed.
 
“Is that what I think it is?” said Michelle.
 
“Well,” said Lee, “it’s not hot enough for a mirage. So I guess we’re seeing the same thing.”
 
The houseboat was about forty feet long. It sat there in the middle of the empty lake as natural as could be, dominating its surroundings.
 
“Let’s go out and have a look,” said Lee.
 
“I’m game,” said Michelle.
 
"Toss the radio in the picnic basket,” said Lee. “I’ll get the boots from the car."
 
The couple donned their fishing boots and made their way down the bank of the lake.
 
“Look at all those old fishing lines,” said Michelle. 
 
“I’ll bet half of them were mine,” said Lee. “I could never get through a  day of fishing out here without getting snagged somewhere.”
 
Halfway on their journey to the houseboat, Michelle noticed something sticking out of the muck and pulled it out.
 
“It’s a ceramic turkey,” said Michelle. “But the heads missing.”
 
“Hmm,” said Lee. ”That was the stopper.”
 
”Stopper?”
 
”That turkey was once filled with Wild Turkey bourbon. The turkey head was the stopper. It must have come loose when it hit the water.”
 
“What’s with the funny look,” said Michelle.
 
“It’s got to be the same one.”
 
“The same one what?”
 
Lee picked up the old bourbon decanter.
 
“The same Wild Turkey decanter that was tossed in the lake thirty some odd years ago. That was the night of the black bear scare.”
 
“Black bear scare?”
 
“Yeah,” said Lee. “One July night in 1976 we were just about to settle down when the ranger came around to our campsite to tell us there’d been black bears spotted in the area. Unusual for this part of the county. He suggested we stick to our tent that night. He also told us to keep our food out of reach by bagging it and hanging the bag from a tree limb high above the ground.
 
“Well, that sounded easy enough,” continued Lee. “Only Dad didn’t have enough rope to toss over the tree limb. So he went into the tent and grabbed Mom’s curling iron, tied it to the end of the rope and, after a few attempts, got the darn thing over the limb. Dad reached for the curling iron when it came down the other side and hooked the bagged food onto its handle. Then he Hoisted the food up high and tied his end of the rope around the tree trunk. It was perfect. Until Mom looked up and spotted the curling iron.”
 
“Oh, brother,” said Michelle. “Then what happened?”
 
“Hell and high-water, Michelle. Hell and high-water.” 
 
‘Oh, stop with the look,’ he said. ‘why do you even need a curling iron? It’s not like anyone sees you but us. And maybe that ranger. Is he why you fuss so much with your hair?'
 
The bath-house was next to the ranger station on Lake Mosley. They were the only buildings with electricity.
 
‘Yeah, that’s it,’ she said. “‘That ranger’s got a thing for married women with sagging boobs and stretch marks. They make his toes curl.’
 
‘Well, I’m glad they make someone’s toes curl!’ said Dad. 
 
“That’s when Mom sucked in a deep breath and the whole world seemed to stop. Mom wasn’t much for words. She just marched her self into the tent and didn’t come out for several minutes. When she did come out she was carrying Dad’s decanter of Wild Turkey.
 
‘What are you doing with my bourbon?’, he said.
 
‘I’m going to see if turkey’s fly,’ she said.
 
‘Oh, no you don’t!’  
 
‘Oh, yes I do!‘
 
“And, yes, she did,” said Lee. And Mom had a pretty good arm, too. Pitched softball in the ladies league. That bottle went sailing about thirty yards before it made a splash-landing into the lake. Then, while Dad was floundering around in the lake trying to recover his peace of mind, Mom picked up an axe, walked over to the tree and chopped at the rope. When the food hit the ground Mom untied her curling iron and retreated to the tent.
 
“Dad came out of the lake empty-handed, cursing a blue-streak. He just stood there at the water’s edge - sopping wet - waiting for some signs of life from the turkey. While Dad was doing that, My little sister and I ran to the tent to check on Mom. When we get inside the tent, Mom was fast asleep on her cot. She was hanging tight to the curling iron and and Dad’s empty bourbon glass.
 
“We went over to tuck her in and could smell the bourbon breath with every snore. I think she made sure that decanter was good and empty before it went for a swim in the lake. Mom hated bourbon. But she hated waste even more. 
 
“Once a year they’d have an all-out war that lasted all of five minutes. My parents were like knee-jerk ninjas. Calm one moment, battle-ready the next. Then the next morning all was forgiven and forgotten. Until next year.”
 
“Hmm, interesting family,” said Michelle. “Shall we head on out to the houseboat? It’s getting cloudy. We could wait for the rain there.”
 
“According to the local paper there hasn’t been rain here in months,” said Lee. “Maybe finding that turkey was a good omen. Stick it in the basket. It’ll be our good-luck charm. We can put it up on the mantle as a reminder.”
 
“A reminder of what?”
 
“Not to fight like my parents,” said Lee. “Those once a year battles scared the hell out of me and my sister. Let’s fight like normal people.”
 
“You’re on,” said Lee.
 
As the rain poured down on Lake Mosley, Lee and Michelle Morgan romanced each other in the shelter of the battered houseboat.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Certificate U
Story
Humour

Comments

Submitted by Linda Wigzell Cress on

 Great story, Hudson, nice and gentle.  Loved it.

Linda

Submitted by hudsonmoon on

Thank you, Linda. I appreciate that. I can usually count on the IP to get me writing when I'm stuck for ideas.

Rich

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

I, too, loved this, Rich.  As Linda says it's a story more than well told in a pleasing style, and I love the last paragraph.  It conjured up such an evocative picture in my head.

Tina

 

Submitted by hudsonmoon on

Hi, Tina, and thanks.  I'm gald it worked. It's one of those stories I might have to go back to.

Rich

 

Submitted by moonphish on

what a fun story...i enjoyed the mental imagery this suggested - alvin

Submitted by hudsonmoon on

Thanks you, Alvin. Glad you had some fun with it.

Rich

 

Submitted by hudsonmoon on

Thank you for my lovely cheerries. And sorry so late with a thank you. Have the time I don't seem to be getting email notices. Strange that.

 

Rich

 

Submitted by Bee on

Really enjoyed your this story. 

Thank you for the read.

Bee

Submitted by Ray Schaufeld on

'I'm going to see if turkeys fly' said Mum. For me the best line in a very real-seeming story told in a warm and individual style        Elsie

Submitted by Denzella on

Hello Rich,

I nice easy read and enjoyable subject matter.

Turkeys fly?  You betcha sweet patoutie they fly!

Moya