Saturday, September 23, 2006

More Storytellin'

I was going to let you all stew for a little while longer. Yeah... I'm that guy. But I'm heading up on the mountain tomorrow for at least a weeks worth of poking cows, and I won't be here until we're done. If I think about it, I'll try to snap some pics of the week's activities so I can shatter your fantasies. Yeah... I'm that guy too. :P

Oh yeah... the story.

Fred continued to walk obliviously around his car checking the tires and Morgie pulled up on the lever jamming a new cartridge into the receiver. The Lord works in myterious ways, and the operative word in that last sentence is jamming. In his haste, the bullet jammed and the action wouldn't close, so Morgie was left in the precarious position of having to try and eject the now jammed cartridge before he could wipe out the deaf demon. Morgie pried and pushed and pulled and pried again on the lever.

Meanwhile, a puzzled Fred finished his walkaround without seeing anything out of the ordinary, so he got back into the car and drove off. About this same time, Morgie finally got the jammed cartridge to eject and a new one to take it's place. He immediately swung the rifle to his shoulder and sighted down the barrel... at nothing. Fred was already gone.

A high school kid named LLoyd witnessed some of the shooting and drove straight home to avoid the crossfire. Once he got home, he told his dad that someone was shooting up the town. His dad (Ernie), being of sound mind and body, and a good father, listened intently to his son's bizarre tale, and reacted accordingly. Yup. He didn't believe a word that he'd heard, so he jumped into his pickup and drove downtown to see it for himself.

He rounded the corner and headed down toward the park, with his head on a swivel, intently looking to the left and the right, knowing all the while that Lloyd was full of shit. He'd gone a couple blocks, and had just about confirmed his diagnosis, when Morgie shot the back window out of his pickup. At this point, Ernie reassessed the situation and stomped on the gas and preceeded to get the heck out of Dodge.

After Ernie, traffic on main street pretty well dried up for Morgie, so he got into his own pickup and headed out toward the dam and then south out of town.

When he got to the fork in the road, the devil took on a new persona, that of two teenage boys out hunting rabbits. Morgie slid to a halt and jumped out of the pickup with his rifle. The two boys looked up to see what the commotion was just in time to see Morgie sighting in on them.

BAM! BAM! This time Morgie wasn't to be denied. One bullet went through the belly of one kid, the other hit the second. Morgie cycled the lever again and pulled the trigger. The rifle failed to fire. Morgie was out of shells. He tossed the rifle into the front of the pickup, and reached back into the bed to get something.

The boy that was shot through the belly, didn't wait around to see what Morgie came up with. He took off running as fast as his legs would carry him, and some years later he told my dad that the further he ran, the more he could feel the blood sloshing around in his belly. Finally he just couldn't take it any more and laid down in a wash to try and hide.

The other boy wasn't able to run due to his injury, and he got to see right up close and personal what Morgie had snatched from the pickup. His axe. Morgie took after the poor kid with the axe, and by all accounts it was a miracle that the kid survived the attack. The same people will tell you however, that he was never quite the same after the attack.

Morgie walked back to his pickup, headed South for another 10 miles or so, and then pulled into a friends house. The friend could tell that something was wrong, so he let Morgie into the house and let him set in a chair almost silently for a few hours until the County Sheriff showed up to get him.

The Sheriff walked into the house, with his hat in his hand and said, "Morgie, I've got to take you in." So Morgie stood up, nodded, and walked out the front door with the Sheriff. I never heard whether he ever cuffed him or not.

Well... Fred played Mr. Magoo and came out unscathed. As did Ernie, and everyone else in town. The two rabbit hunters both survived the incident, one still lives here. The other boy, the one who got the axe, moved a long time ago, and I've never met him.

Morgie was declared insane, and sent to a sanitarium. While he was in the county jail, my grandfather passed away, and in a curious happenstance, my dad bumped into Morgie shortly afterward in the county courthouse. Morgie walked over to my dad, while his guards watched him, and told him how sorry he was that my grandpa had passed. He allowed as to how he really liked my grandpa, and was terribly sad. He then told my dad that they were sending him up to Blackfoot, and he was really hopeful that they could help him up there. As far as I know, that's where he died.


Today's Mystery Lyric:

The world seems so clear
like a wonderful diamond.
Can't imagine there's meanness
can't imagine there's wrong.


Anonymous bc said...

Holy Smokes. So he was pretty much just pickin em off as they came along.

Dont forget to bring a warmer hat. :P

9/23/2006 11:28 PM  
Blogger fermicat said...

You've got some interesting characters in your corner of the world, LL.

9/24/2006 8:22 AM  
Blogger Beth said...

Fermicat nailed it. What a wild story ... and true! I'm glad the two boys lived though. Really glad.

9/24/2006 4:29 PM  
Blogger trinamick said...

Don't know the song this time either. Really losin' my touch.

It's amazing the number of crazies in this world who have guns. Personally, I think nutjobs should only be allowed to own NERF bats.

Have fun pokin' cows. Remember to call them the next day.

9/25/2006 10:46 AM  
Anonymous bc said...

Since no one took a stab at this...

Lyrics are Accept - Winter Dreams

9/26/2006 11:36 AM  
Blogger Beth said...

Oh, and I just got the "Major League" link to work. 1989, hmm, second year of my child bride marriage. I don't recall it, but I'll add it to my Netflix queue!

9/26/2006 1:26 PM  
Blogger NYPinTA said...

I'm going to go back and read the story in a second but I just had to stop at the phrase "poking cows". Um.... what???

9/27/2006 9:34 AM  
Blogger Kathleen said...

What this says to me is that small towns aren't any damn safer than big cities. Crazies are everywhere! And why does God only talk to the nutjobs?

9/28/2006 11:05 AM  
Blogger LL said...

I'm heading to bed... so I'll just hit the highlights.

Didn't need the warmer hat.

If they weren't interesting, I wouldn't be telling their tales.

"I'm glad the two boys lived though."

So are they.

"Remember to call them the next day."

Call them what? :P

"Um.... what???"

*sigh* Get your mind out of the gutter. Cowpokes poke cows.

Kath: Nowhere escapes these types of things. The only difference is that they only happen around here once or twice in a 50 year span. As for why God talks to the nutjobs, well... we're more attuned to his frequency! :P

10/01/2006 10:02 PM  

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