It was mid-July and I got the bug again. Usually I never know when, specifically, it’ll hit but this one is a bit different. There’s only one chance to see friends you’ve made along the way and that’s in Britt, Iowa in the early part of August. I was almost sorry to give this gig up-it was one the best I’d ever had. It might even be better than that stint I had in California, oh, probably about eight years ago. Huh, I guess not. Back then I was a groundskeeper for some rich folks that weren’t around very much but their daughter was and she took a shine to me. She said she was eighteen and that was good enough for me. When she wasn’t with her buddies she would wander over to my little cottage on the far side of the property. That was a hell of a summer…

Still, as I said, this gig is just perfect. I was wandering through Farmington out Deleware way and heard about an old lady that had a small ranch and was looking for help. Miss Edna was a widower and was doing okay funds-wise but needed help with the horses. She couldn’t get around much anymore, riding was out of the question but as she said, “I’ve been around these beautiful creatures my entire life and I’m not going to stop because I’m a bit infirm”.

We worked out a deal-I got a little setup near the barn. A cozy place that was to my liking. The money was okay but I didn’t have anywhere to spend it so my bankroll was better than it had been in some time. Food was there for the taking and I had my own burner as well. I had as much or as little privacy as I wanted. Miss Edna wasn’t nosy except for when I was feeding and watering her ‘precious ones’. She always made it to the porch at the proper times and made sure as well to give me proper instructions. That and Sunday dinner where pretty much my only obligations. She was hurt when I told her I had to meet up with friends-“Are you coming back?”. I replied, “Uh, sure. I’ll just be away for a little bit, maybe get a kid in here for a few weeks”.

I figured it would take at least fourteen days or so to get out to Britt by train and by thumbing it. Rodeo Dave, Hatchet, Stumps, Fat Harry, Fireman-I looked forward to seeing them and so many others. I’d crossed paths with all of them over the fifteen years since I’d left Nancy. It’s not a perfect life but it’s better than working construction day after month after year. I think she figured it out shortly before I did. I’ve no doubt she wouldn’t have been surprised to see the note I’d left the day the itching got too intense to ignore.

There had to be at least 150 of us there at the grounds where the meetup took place. Plenty more observers too. I was hoping I could hook up again with Sidecar Sally. It was sort of a tradition we had going on five years now-a great way to get the weekend started. Thing is, I was told she slipped under the wheels of a cattle car last winter. Ah well, I imagine it didn’t hurt much, would’ve been over with right quick.

This being Friday, the highlight is the bonfire and the fiddle music which gets everyone in a good mood. Me and Pennsylvania Slim were jawing off to the side and I noticed a fella looking at us. There’s all sorts that show up here and seeing a new face was to be expected. Slim called him over and he had some whiskey on hand. He just wanted to be there when the stories started flowing and he brought just the thing to loosen our lips and memories.

Wasn’t long before Slim was telling the old yarn about sleeping with the wife of a switchyard boss back in Chicago in the late ’70’s. It never gets old. As the dark closed in around us I thought Slim’s voice was more slurred than it ought to have been but I wasn’t feeling that great myself. I wasn’t drunk, I was slow. Couldn’t think quick. Gotta get outta here. Gotta take a leak. I opened my eyes. Leaning against a tree. All the sounds. So far away. I heard, “You okay?”. Sharp pain in my side. Piss going everywhere. It took me forever to put my hand on my side. Warm. Sticky. Opened my eyes again. Stars. On my back. Hands on my throat. Strong. No stars anymore. The horses… Nancy…

TO THE GAME!

Vikes/Cowboys:

Wr Amari is listed as questionable but is expected to gut it out and why wouldn’t he? In the ten home games he’s played since the trade he’s gone for 10 six spots. The Vikes lockup secondary has disappeared this year and even Rhodes can be taken for a ride, never mind Hughes and Waynes. Their run D is still exemplary but you’re playing Zeke because you’re no fool.

Let’s keep it going.