Lost is the soul of a boatless man

Monday, August 1, 2011

The Soda Bottle Kid

Wednesday proved to be just as hot.
Rodney couldn't remember it being so hot,
The mowing was on hold, because nothing would grow in the heat.
   The days were filled with long bike rides and swims in the creek.
All the boys meeting up with one another at the camp.
They would work at the raft or bring in more bottles.
The big gain in bottles was from the 4th of July picnic in town when the set up barrels
for collection. Donate to the Boys Club the crude banner said, And so many had filled
the barrels at the ball diamond. And at the fireworks display next to the racetrack.
Nearly 75 cases. Rodney knew they were close to their July goal but thought about the
needs of Camp Wannamaka.
 Friday came and it seemed right for a party at Ton an Tanks, Rodney passed the word
and all were coming to meet.
  The meeting began with the usual meeting, a count of bottles, a report of repairs of the
boat, and a report of the raft progress.
 All the boys had done their jobs and it seemed that all was in order.
   " I need a crew tomorrow to help paint Pat Dooleys shed.",
The gang all stood in silence. " You got to be kidding me", Brian said.
Rodney said , " No, we all have to have our shit in order for the week at camp.
The Dooley shed bottles is our camp money."
"We have enough bottles to keep us on track to get bikes,
but nothing for the food at camp.", Rodney looked at everyone like this
was all preordained.  "Can you all start taking food from home to help?"
"Have you thought of how we will bring this off?"
The boys started to chatter amongst themselves. The talk was of camp
and getting caught, it was of how much the could get away with
from the garden and pantry. But most of all it was about going through with
the whole plan of it, the bus the fake, the 10 days away from home on their own.
  Pat Dooley's shed:;
Saturday brought the gang together they all gathered around while Pat
told them the fine art of painting with Linseed oil paint.
  It began with a thinned pail of 1 gallon of paint and a quart of thinner.
the end was not so predictable. As the heat grew the paint had to be thinned
more. One of the boys decided to pour the paint from the top as the others,
brushed furiously to coat the boards as the icecream like paint cooked in the July sun.
  " There's no more thinner", Ton said. " Look in the shed", Rodney commanded.
  " I found a quart jar, it smells like thinner".Tank reported. " Ok pour it in a gallon"
Rodney said. The heat poured on the boys as they finished wiping all the thick runs
of paint over and over to get a smooth coat.
  Pat emerged from the run down house to inspect the work.
The boys stood with smiles and a speckled coat of linseed oil paint from head to PF flyer.
 It's a good job boys, it's got a bright glow.
   " We ran out of turpintine but we found more in the shed.", Ton said.
Dooley turned pale, "What ?, Where?, " What did you use boy?"
  "The, the, turpintine in the quart jars," Ton said slowly.
The blood ran away from Dooleys face, and then returned red as ever!
  " You damned fools that was whiskey from my fathers home in Ireland!!
 The last of me only family heirloom!, I'll beat the livin' tar out of all of ya'!
Pat Dooley started swinging wildly with his cane and the boys scattered to avoid
being caned. " Shit, let's get outta here", Ton screamed.
All the boys jumped their bikes and rode off as Dooley cursed them.
  When they got back to T n Ts they all were wide eyed.
  " What the hell just happened?" " I think we pissed him off",
  "Duh, You mixed his whiskey with the paint", Josh said, " You're lucky
he didn't kill us."
  " My Grandpa drinks whiskey and he would jump from his skin if
you did that." Josh seemed to know about this .
  The rest of us talked about gettin the bottles and revenge, Josh said,
"We can get them, but when, he said, it was cool. I didn't ask why or when ,
I just knew that Josh knew.
   That night we got screwed, but I knew it would work out.

Tune in next week.



 

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