*For those of you interested in Tale #1, you'll have to look further back in my blogs.*
MY WEEKEND IN THE WOODS WITH OWEN ELIJAH BAKER, HIS STUPID COUSINS AND THEIR GIRLFRIENDS:....
A RURAL ..CENTRAL TEXAS.. TALE 2....
By: Virginia P. Hatfield
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Okay, what are y'all doin' back here? You must love my stories. Well at least you liked my Buford tale. Oh, I have a whole bunch of stories; just you keep on readin'. Why do you think I've subtitled these here stories "A Rural Central Texas Tale"? Well, because I have so many of these stupid anecdotes that I figured I might as well make some use of them.
This is a tale of one terribly hot ..Central Texas.. summer weekend in the woods. Yes, I got so tired of waitin' for that damned Owen Elijah Baker to pay some attention to me that I just figured, what the hell…if you can't beat em', join em'. Yeah, my stupid ass went out into the woods with Owen Elijah Baker and his two dumb-ass hillbilly cousins from ....Louisiana..... Wait!... I don't think ....Louisiana.... folk are hillbillies, are they? Well, I certainly wouldn't consider them rednecks. They must be like those country folk in some of those ..Alabama.. or ....Florida.... wetlands… Yeah, swampbillies. Hell yes! That's what they are - livin' out on the edge of swamps around those alligators, running around barefoot like fools…not to mention all that Voodoo that goes on out there.
Okay, I don't know about Voodoo, but we don't usually go barefoot in ....Texas.... – well, not where I'm from. You know, it's not all Bluebonnets and sweet grass in the whole of ....Texas..... Damned fire ants will eat your ass up. If not, those pointy-ass grass burs are sure to end up poking holes into your feet! Hell, with all that goin' on, we sure in the hell don't need any Voodoo happenin'.
Although, there are a few people I know whose asses need pins stuck in 'em – that darned Owen Elijan Baker, to name one. Oh, yeah…and I actually have a tale or two of good magick gone bad. But, you'll have to wait until later for those tales.
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Note: I bet you don't believe me about the swamp. I'll have you to know that I have a friend, Agnes – yes, she has all her teeth - who lives in Alabama and her cabin is on stilts and she has a rowboat tied up to the porch by a long rope. Why? is what you must be asking. Well, that story is for another day; however, I assure you there is a very, very good reason why her house is on stilts and she has a boat tied up out there. Even though my stories are supposed to be ..Texas.. tales, I assure you that I will get around to writing about my experience at her cabin in rural ....Alabama.... and the tale will explain why her home needs to be on stilts and why she needs a rowboat nearby. Yeah it has to do with alligators and rising waters, indeed it does.
And, as I mentioned before, as for that Voodoo, I've got a tale about witchcraft in ....Texas.... that'll knock your socks right off. A story about a red-headed Witch and a hairless cat. But, that story's for another day.
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Anyway, those two idiots, Red and Edgar Ennis - Owen Elijah's cousins - are two fools like none other I have seen to date. And what's even worse than them is the company they keep! Edgar brought along his girlfriend Allie Jamison, and Red brought along his girlfriend Ruby Lynn McCoy. Yes, you heard right - McCoy.
Okay, here's a note to readers: If any of y'all are thinkin' about puttin' a Hatfield in the deep woods with a McCoy, you need to think twice. Now that's all I'm gonna say about that.
Now at first I thought that Allie Jamison wasn't so bad, but I would soon find out Allie had her own secrets – really, really strange secrets; nonetheless, we got along fairly well. Now that damned hair-dyed and powder-puffed Ruby Lynn McCoy, well, let's just say I didn't take to her too damned well. No sir. We ended up not likin' each other too much in the end. Who the hell goes out to the woods with damned high heels on, wearing more make-up than Tammy Fay Baker? Who? Would you tell me? Well, I'll sure tell you…a damned McCoy woman, that's who.
See, us Hatfield girls are naturally good lookin'. We don't need caked on eye shadow, burnt-orange lip color and cheap dime store perfume. Gag me, why don't ya? Why didn't Red Ennis tell that girl not to be wearin' any scents out in the woods where there's bears and bees and such? Besides that, what is that girl doin' wearin' that shade of blue eye shadow for anyway?...Just doesn't match her damned complexion or that orange lipstick, and besides, you don't see her first, you see that damned eye shadow shinin' like a neon bar sign from a half mile away.
Well, I must not fail to tell you that I am sure that eye shadow scared away much of the wild game; however, her cheap honeysuckle perfume did attract an unwelcome visitor. Ha, ha, ha. Oh, I love my own damned sense of humor. Now Red says that her damned flowery perfume did not attract that bear, no matter what I said. Well, okay, maybe it didn't. You'll have to read on to find out.
Okay, so here's the story of me, Allie, that foolish McCoy woman and our silly actin' men on a hot summer weekend in the woods.
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Owen Elijah and me left my house around four-forty-five on a 99-degree-day-in-the-shade Friday afternoon in late July to meet Red and Edgar and their goofy-ass women back in the woods at my granddaddy's old huntin' cabin. This damned cabin was so deep in the woods, it didn't matter what season it was, you could hunt anything out there and no one would ever know. I was dreadin' the cabin since I knew it was dread full of Texas-sized spiders. Oh, I hate those creepy things.
The cabin was usually about a three-hour drive from my house, but this time around it seemed like it was takin' forever to get there. It was hotter than a firefly's ass on that damned highway we were drivin'. I could see the heat rising off the black top for miles ahead of us. I'm tellin' you, I bet we could've cooked supper right there on the highway. Owen Elijah made the statement that "if you'd piss on the road, the devil would sigh with relief."
Well, don't mind Owen Elijah, he's just silly.
Anyway, I had a bad feelin' about the weekend before me. I just knew things were not gonna go swell. It all started with the classic flat tire that occurred while we were headin' out to the cabin. Just an hour and a half away from home, the front passenger tire blew out – from the heat, Owen Elijah noted – and it put us on the shoulder for about twenty minutes as he changed the tire.
~TO BE CONTINUED~