Its been awhile but with some coaxing from some friends and family here is a shiny new blog post just for you. So tell your friends. Leave messages and bring me cookies.
My cousin Eric and I are real men! We like to shoot guns, start fires, cut down trees, blow things up, talk about how long we would survive in a post-apocalyptic world, and complain how are teams never win. We talk big, play hard, and enjoy the simple things.
To give you an idea of how we can be together, one year we spent around $500 one year on the 4th July. During that epic day we spent well over 6 hours enjoying ourselves and singeing the hair off of various body parts (as well as my sister favorite blanket. Good thing my Dad saw the fire, because we sure didn’t.)
Because both of us are hard workers and extremely in demand through out the land for our skills, when we have a chance to get together we enjoy ourselves.
Due to being born into the right families we have some property nestled in the Uintah’s. We are set about an acre back from the main dirt road, and have a row a trees sheltering the view giving us a little privacy. There is a nice creek (not to be confused with crick, if you don’t know the difference look up Patrick F. McManus’s definition) that runs right next to the fire pit and the quaint 1960’s single wide trailer that serves as our cabin.
The trailer as one can imagine is not much to look at. All in all it is in good repair. The inside is complete with all the appropriate fixtures, carpeting, sofas and such that were found in the 60’s and makes you feel like you are stepping back 40 years.
My cousin Eric and decided that it was about time to have some male bonding time again, and so we headed up the river to go to the trailer. Once we arrived we immediately got to work starting a fire and cooking our ginormous slabs of meat over the open fire. We are men! What else would we eat other than a leviathan sized piece of meat in the woods?
We enjoyed our dinner and busied our self with feeding the fire anything that would burn or melt. The fire slowly died out after digesting everything from cans, to stumps and we decided to retired to the trailer to get to work on the worlds problems through an intense discussion on an assortment of topics. Just about the time we got talking about the proper way to dispose of man eating zombies we decided it would be best if we rested out minds so we could be fresh for the continuation of this dialogue in the morning.
We stoked the fire emptied our bladders off the porch (another perk of being a man) and proceeded through the other nightly rituals that men go through. You know like a flexing in the mirror and a comparing of scars and what the other guy looked like after we were done with them.
As the testosterone thinned from the air Eric took the back room and I bedded down on the circa 1960’s pull out bed in the living/dining/family room. Not being able sleep I pulled out a trusty book and decided to have a read. (I was reading the book titled The Road, by Cormac McCarthy, which I would suggest to anyone needing a good book to read.)
After reading close to 150 pages (it’s a page turner) my eyes were growing heavy and I decided it was time to get some rest. I threw a few logs on the fire and turned the lights off and burrowed deep in to my sleeping bag and blankets. I quickly started to drift off to sleep, or best that you can on an ancient bed and in a peculiar place.
Normally I do not sleep well in many places other than my own bed, however the combination of eating a smorgasbord of scrumptious bovine and reading longer than I should have, I got knocked out like acid washed jeans.
For those of you that know me, I can be an extremely heavy sleeper at times. When I get in to a deep sleep I become dead to the world. I have slept through sirens, phones ringing, doorbells, my Mom for years, and even our dear, departed dog Sparkey, barking from the top of my bunk bed and vomiting in to my back pack, true story by the way. Sparkey was always very strategic when it came to her bodily fluids and me. But that is a post for another day.
But I digress...
As I was in the middle of this intense, near cavernous sleep I was awoken not by the crisp mountain dawn sneaking through the blinds, but to mysterious sounds in the dark, cold, dank trailer. The fire had gone nearly out and was casting a malevolent orange glow, that casted fiendish shadows on the wall.
I am not one to jump to conclusions about what a noise is or isn’t. I recognize that a good majority of the time I am probably agitating my self more than anything. With this thought in mind I closed my eyes again and tried to sleep once more.
Then I heard it again. Loud, crisp, and clear. Something was outside. And it sounded big.
My pulse quickened. And my senses enhanced. My eyes dilated to seven times their normal size, and I could hear my hair growing. I could feel an evil presence that one can only imagine. I sat up as ancient mans instincts took over and my body and turned on the fight rather than flight mode. I quickly assessed the situation.
It was up to me to protect the nobility of this hallowed family estate. And my sleeping cousin Eric.
I moved to the edge of my bed and pulled on my shoes to get ready for anything. The sounds were coming from a few separate places and this concerned me. For one, I am one man with a sleeping cousin in the back room that has no idea about the predicament that is ahead us. And second, I am unarmed. Eric is the one with the hand cannon. The Gat. The Piece. The Jammy. The Boom Stick. Eric was the one that would yell, “Say hello to my little friend!” Eric was the one that came prepared. And I was the one that left my ‘four four mag’ at home.
The sounds seemed to be getting louder. And I became more concerned. It sounded like the perpetrators were walking across the deck and checking the windows. Then I heard them underneath the trailer. Then floor started to shake. I could feel a surge of adrenaline coarse through my veins.
I knew right then it was them or I.
Stay Tuned For Part II for the Stunning Conclusion of
Paranormal Squirrels of the Fourth Kind