Untitled #1
Contributors: Ahchie, The Diesel, Brother Nature, Throcksmorton, Albuquerque Tom
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen (stay tuned...)
Herman had spent the afternoon talking with old man Caesar. After Scout had driven away with momma in the van, Herman felt discouraged, but not defeated. He was disappointed in himself that he had failed what he thought should have been a simple task. He thought of giving chase to the van, but as Bonnie Tyler eased into the quiet, closing line, “Turn around bright eyes,” Herman decided to regroup and tend to his wounds, and accompanied Caesar to his cabin in the woods.
Caesar was positive that Scout would try to take Herman’s mother to a hippie named Sunshine, who lived about thirty miles away in a tent on the river’s edge. Caesar had chuckled at the thought of Scout always referring to her as his girlfriend. Caesar said that Sunshine was every hippie’s girlfriend.
The small cabin was hidden well, fairly deep in the woods. There was actually an access road that was also well hidden that obviously had not been used for some time. The furnishings were sparse and there was no electricity, but Caesar seemed to have everything he needed.
As Herman dressed his wounds, he found conversing with Caesar was easy. The old man seemed wise, but it was his aloofness that Herman liked. Caesar did not seem to be the type to get too sentimental and this appealed to Herman. They had talked quite a bit, covering in a short period of time a multitude of topics from nuclear proliferation to how to grow a nice set of sideburns. Caesar complained that the hippies never brought him any meat, so he had to hunt local game, which at times was sparse.
Although still sore, Herman felt much better as he finished his fourth bowl of soup. He knew he had lingered too long and had to get going, but as he was about to get ready to head out, he sensed that Caesar was holding something back. Herman prompted, “What is it old man?”
Caesar was quiet for a moment, then said, “I knew your father.”
Herman froze momentarily. Then he dismissed Caesar with a wave of his hand, “Man, being out here all those years really did make you crazy.”
Caesar calmly replied, “It hasn’t been as long as you think. I came out here the day your old man was murdered. I was there.”
Herman was beginning to feel angry. If this was true, why did he wait this long to say something. If it was true, he had all sorts of questions to ask. But if it wasn’t true, what was the point?
Caesar could tell that Herman was not pleased. “Calm down, friend. I hesitated to tell you because I wasn’t sure what good it would do. But you deserve to know. I knew it was you as soon as I saw momma on the hill with her shotgun.”
Herman was quiet, staring at his empty bowl.
“My name’s not really Caesar. That’s just what the hippies call me. When you were ten years old I was known as Hank Greenbottom. I remember –-”
Hank was interrupted by the sound of a loud vehicle outside the cabin. It was obvious from its sudden stop that the driver had arrived in a rush. When the engine shut off, Herman and Hank could hear the music from the vehicle’s radio:
“I’d like to hear some funky Dixieland
Pretty mama come and take
me by the hand
By the hand, take me by
the hand pretty mama
Come and dance with your
daddy all night long…”
“I can’t believe it,” Hank said as he got up from his chair, “He actually came back. I figured he would have just kept on running after you took a bite out of his face.”
“I’ll handle this,” Herman said as he slowly got up from the table and motioned for Hank to sit back down. Hank looked on in disbelief as Herman drew his .44 magnum and began quietly singing to himself, “Red Skies at night, red skies at night, Wo oh, wo oh oh oh oh oh oh oh…”