Wolf Rants

Posted: February 1, 2019 in Prose

 

6 July 2012

Another hot day at the park (39 degrees Celsius, 102 degrees Fahrenheit). As I approached the group I saw Larry and his mother, Anne seated on the grass. Trudy, Buck and his dog Dillinger were standing by Buck’s bicycle. Wolf and Debbie were in a heated discussion while Shaggy lay panting by the railing.

I shook hands with Larry, waved to Anne then extended my hand to Trudy. She hugged me instead. I extended my hand to Buck. He said, “What? I don’t get a hug?” I hugged him and said, “Share the love, brother.”

I walked over to Wolf. He said, “Go away, I don’t want to talk to you right now. I walked back to sit with Larry and Anne. Larry said to me, “With this hot weather I guess you’ll be going to your cabin this weekend.”

“Yes, I’ll be leaving at six tonight and will be coming back Sunday evening. I hope the weather stays like this.”

“Dennis, ” said Wolf, “I didn’t mean to be rude. Well, yes I did. Anyway, I can’t break my train of thought or I won’t get it back again. I need to have eye contact. See, now Trudy is standing between us. Trudy, couldn’t you go around the other way? Can’t you see we’re trying to have a conversation here?”

“I’m sorry, Wolf,” said Trudy.

I moved closer  so I could hear him better.

Buck said to Wolf, “Your German team didn’t do too well in the Euro Cup.”

“We didn’t do well in the last two world wars, either.”

“Dennis,” said Wolf, “We’re about the same age, so you know what I’m talking about. That murder in St. Isidore — that’s what Debbie and I were  discussing — have you been following that in the newspaper.”

“No,” I said, “I don’t know anything about it.”

“Come on man, it was on the front page of the Sun, yesterday. You’re smart.  I thought you kept up with what’s going on in the world. A twenty-four year old guy was murdered in St. Isidore. He was lured behind an elementary school by three  girls, where he was stabbed and murdered by three boys. The oldest was twenty. The headline read, ‘Seven Lives Wasted’. Can you imagine what those families are going through? Not only the family of the murdered guy, but the others as well.

“I have a son. I don’t see him any more. When he was nineteen years old he murdered someone. What’s with these kids? There’s no discipline, that’s what’s the matter. When I was a boy, I had to set the table, the knives would have to be just so, the forks over here — none of these people would know what I’m talking about. If I got something wrong, I’d get a smack across the back of my head. That’s my Germanic background. Yours is similar, I think. What is it, Scottish?”

‘No, Irish.”

“That’s not it.”

“Icelandic.”

“Icelandic, that’s it. Vikings, raping and pillaging, just like the Huns. Anyway, back to St. Isidore, the armpit of Quebec. What’s with these kids? Did they think they would get away with it?

“That’s one of the reasons I don’t come here on weekends. You just never know what’s going to happen. Hippo’s been jumped. Rocky’s been jumped. They’re a lot bigger and tougher than I am. I’ve slept at ‘the heater’ and I was darn glad to see Andre and Hippo come along. I was glad to have — what’s the word I’m looking for?”

“Protection?”

“That’s it , protection. When I’m anywhere in this area, I know I can call out and someone may come to my rescue.

“This heat is bad. When I cross that line of shade, where it meets the full glare of the sun, it’s like walking into a wall.  Shaggy’s not going to be riding much today. Of course, she’ll be in the cart going up the bridge.”

I said, “Maybe you should get in the cart and have Larry push.”

“That cart wouldn’t hold me. It’s meant to be pulled behind a bicycle. Jacques, big Jacques, you know how strong he is. He’s fixed it a couple of times for me. That cart’s getting old. Shaggy and I were hit by the car when she was three years old, so that’s over eight years.”

“I notice that the front has been changed. Don’t these carts usually have wheels in front?”

“Yes, the wheels stuck way out in front. It was hard to turn. Jacques cut it shorter and replaced the wheels with the blade of a hockey stick. Now it slides.

“Anyway, on my way here this morning I stopped to buy Shaggy some dog food. She eats well. It reminds me of when Little Jake first got sick. I fed him well, maybe too well, it seemed to make him worse.”

I asked, “How is Jake now?”

“I don’t want to talk about Jake. Getting back to the dog food. I remember being at the counter and getting four five dollar bills as change.  Later, I wanted to buy five grams of weed and I couldn’t find my money.  I had to take everything out of my pockets and at last, in this tiny little pocket of my jeans, I found the four bills stuffed inside.

“So, I talked enough. Do I rate a chapter in your book? Fuck off then, go away. I’m just kidding. But, seriously, it’s time for me to go before it gets too hot.”

Before Chester left he said to me, “By the way, Joy was here earlier, but she had to leave because of the heat.”

“Thanks, Chester. Have a good day.”

I went back to sit with Larry, Anne and Trudy. I heard Larry say to Anne, “Chester asked me if I thought there was any chance of you and him getting back together. I told him, ‘Ask her yourself. It has nothing to do with me.’ ”

It’s like a daily soap opera. lives and loves exposed for all to see.

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