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June 6 - Frog The summer sun danced over the flowers in the garden at the back of my small cabin where I have lived most of my life alone. Once upon a time I had a life. My husband and I lived in the city. We both had great jobs. My David was a lawyer and I owned a small flower shoppe on Main and Arcadia. This cabin was a summer home and we came out here on holidays, long weekends and week long vacations. It was our home away from home. Life was perfect then. I had a man that loved me and we had just found out we were going to be parents. That's when David had a heart attack while jogging in the park. Suddenly, I was a single parent. That was hard but I still had a wonderful part of David. I still had our baby girl. Amber was a beautiful little girl. She loved coming here to the cabin just like her daddy did. Even without David, having Amber made life still very wonderful. Then I lost Amber. The worse part is they never found her body. She was abducted from a park not far from our home in the city. My baby was only three years old. I only turned my back for a minute and she was gone. I sold our place in the city and my cute little flower shoppe and moved up here to the cabin where my memories are good. I love sitting back here in my rocker among the flowers. If I close my eyes I can see the most beautiful little girl in a white cotton eyelet top and denim pants rolled up to the knee. Her red curls glowing in the sunlight as she plays with a frog she found in yard. I squeeze my eyes tightly closed as tears stream down my cheeks. Then a soft voice said, "Excuse me. Are you Sarah Rose Sanders?" I opened my eyes to see a beautiful little girl in a flowered cotton sundress. Her red curls flowing over freckled shoulders. I whispered..."Amber?" Then looking up to see who had brought my baby back to me thirty years later. It was a beautiful woman in her thirties with flowing red hair. "Mrs. Sanders, my name is Autumn Davidson and I beleive that you may be my Mother." ___________________________________________________________________ June 7 - Dragon Johnny stood in the kitchen doorway trembling, his teeth chattering. His face pale white and covered with mud. His striped T-shirt torn and one of his sneakers missing. His mother ran to him dropping to her knees before the boy. "Honey, what happened?" The boy, staring straight ahead started to babble. "MMM...Me and Timmy and Ben, we were playing up on the mountain near the lake and we found this cave. We went in to explore it and at the back of the tunnel there was these stone steps. It was really dark but we had flash lights so we followed the stairs just to see where they went. They went down and down and down. When we finally made it to the bottom it was some kind of house. No, more like an old castle from a scary movie or something. We stood on the stairs for a few minutes fighting about wether or not to turn back of keep exploring. Timmy wasn't sure but Ben was scared and wanted to turn back. Then this lady stepped out of the darkness in a long black dress. It must have been her place because she was really mad that we were there. I don't know what she was saying. It was in some other language but, she had this big carved stick that she banged on the stone floor and this big dragon thing, came slithering out of one of the rooms. It opened it's mouth wide and let out a high pitched scream as fire shot out.. Before I knew it I was running up the stairs taking two or three at a time. At the top of the first turn in the winding stairs, I looked back over my shoulder and the dragon had Timmy in his mouth as Ben stood crying on the stairs. I called to him "Timmy run, run!" but, as he turned the dragons sharp teeth closed over him. Timmy, Timmy! Oh my God Timmy!" _____________________________________________________________________ June 8 - Play Wow! Look at this photo. That really takes me back. It was summer camp 1964. That was where I met the best friend a guy could ever have Johnny Dean. I was nine and it was my first year at Camp Crooked River. I was the new guy, the youngest and the smallest one there. That meant I was the last one picked for teams and the one everybody always picked on. Especially, Richard McMann, the camp bully. Man that guy was a jerk! I suffered all kinds of humiliations such as wedgies, wet willies, purple-nurples and noogies from all the guys but, Richard was the one that really put me through hell. In this photo we were playing a game called pickle in the middle right there in the muddy waters of the river. We were in three teams of two and the object was, for your team to keep the ball away from the team stuck in the middle. If the team in the middle caught the ball, the team that didn't catch the ball would go in as the pickle. Of course Richard made my team, the two smallest guys at camp (me and Jerry Jonas) , start as the pickle. There was no way we were getting out of there but, by some stroke of luck I jumped at just the right moment and caught the ball. For a couple seconds I basked in the glory of the other guys cheers, then my eyes met Richard's and I quickly realized the mistake I had made. NO ONE beats Richard at anything and lives to tell. NO ONE! Richard's eyes burned holes in me as our teams switched places. As the game resumed, Jerry and I were keeping the ball away from Richard. The PICKLE in the middle. I loved the way that sounded. The longer we kept the ball from him the madder he was. Before we knew it, him and his team mate Johnny Dean, were standing right in front of our team. This was no fair because, they were both a head or more taller than us. We didn't have a chance. Before the ball was thrown we were running side to side trying to get an opening but, Richard's team stayed right on us. We dodged to the left and the ball was in the air. Richard yelled to his team mate, "Johnny, whoever catches this ball is the King of Camp Crooked River!" The ball was almost in his hands when the craziest thing in the world happened. Johnny Dean yelled out to me, "Henry, catch that ball!" as he tackled Richard to the bottom of that muddy river. It seemed like everything stopped for a few minutes and no one was sure just what had happened. The two boys were under the water for what seemed like forever and the rest of us stood in silence staring at the spot they went down at. Finally Johnny came up followed by Richard who was coughing and spitting out muddy water. When he caught his breath his eyes fell on me and then traveled to the ball in my hands. "NO WAY IN HELL!", he said as he started towards me but, Johnny beat him to me and lifted me up onto his shoulders saying, "All hail, King Henry the first. King of Camp Crooked River!" From then on year after year I was known as King Henry and Richard's camp nick name was "The Pickle". Johnny and I have been best friends ever since. Ha, Ha, Ha, The Pickle! _____________________________________________________________________ June 9 - surf The sun was setting in the west over the waters of Key West. Spring break 2010 was going strong! I couldn't believe we were actually here. We were young, wild and crazy. We were three college buddies from Boston University here to soak up some sun, try new things, and meet some hot girls (not necessarily in that order). We had never water skied before. Hell, two of us had never even laid eyes on the ocean until we went off to college. Now here we were sun burned and riding these waves like we have been doing this all our lives. Curtis was the best at it though. You should've seen him out there in those ridiculous hawaiian shorts, the suns rays beaming off his bald head. He was having the time of his life. We bringing the boat around to head back since the sun was about to set. Curt leaned to one side with the turn. His body very close to the waters surface and with the sun shining behind him we noticed that he was being follow closely by a very large gray fin. _____________________________________________________________________ June 10 -Rails Dawn was a creepin' up over the horizon ahead. I had been walkin' these here rails for days. No food, no water, no idea of who I am or how I got here, or hell, even where HERE is. Through the mornin' mist I could make out a small town up ahead. My sore feet quickened their pace with the thought of cool, clear, water a pourin' over my swollen tongue. My mind started workin'. Maybe there is an Inn that I can rent a room at. Maybe there's a doctor to look at that big knot on my noggin' and tell me why I can't remember damn near anythin'. Maybe there is a dinner I can buy some breakfast and a pretty little lady to serve it up for me. I got plenty of money in nap sack. As I stepped off the rails for the first time in days I was whistling a happy tune and wonderin' what town this could be. I was followin' the dirt road leading into town when I spotted a sign up ahead on a post. The sign read Dogwood County Limits population... That's when I spotted it. The sign tacked up just under it that read, "Wanted - Dusty McCoy, for robbing the Dogwood County Savings and Loan. The fellow in the picture below looked very familiar. It was the first real memory I had since I woke up on the side of the tracks a few days ago. Yep, I felt like I've know this fella for my entire life. Happy to have remembered something I headed on down the road excited for all the good things that were a comin' my way. |
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