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For George Z. - Statuesque Tea Bags



 
 
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  #1  
Old March 17th 04, 04:19 AM
Bob McKellar
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Default For George Z. - Statuesque Tea Bags

This one was rushed to completion, due to a scheduled event
now known to RAM residents. As such it has not been fully
edited, since my editor has gone to sleep already and is
cranky if I wake her up.

A more polished, illustrated version should be on the
website this weekend.

Two very real events inspired the story, with a large chunk
in the middle inserted to honor our friend.

Get Well, George!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Statuesque Tea Bags

I know it may be hard for some of you to believe, but down
here we're moving right on toward Spring. Of course, the
first ones in line for it were the senior boys at the High
School. They can see graduation coming, and feel a need to
make the most of their current situation.

Mr. Ladd's boy Matt was the ringleader for last week's
prank. He knew that Mr. Bowman had, in the basement of his
store, an almost life size plastic statue of Elvis Presley.
Now, Mr. Bowman has never come up with a credible story as
to how he got the thing in the first place, much less a
productive use for it. So when Matt and a few of his
friends asked if they could have it, he gave in pretty
easily.

He obviously didn't know what Matt had in mind. Last
Tuesday night, Matt slipped into the empty school through
that window in the band room that never seems to lock
right. Then he shut down the power at the main breaker box
and quietly opened the front door so his friends could bring
the statue in and put it in the middle of the main lobby.
After they finished, the accomplices hid in one of the
classrooms. Matt closed the front door, propped open the
side door to the parking lot, moved the hall light switches
to "ON" and then retired to the utility room.

While this was going on, Matt's girlfriend Jessica was
calling the Sheriff's office from the pay phone in front of
the Mayflower, reporting a prowler at the High School.
Jessica has a voice that would bring out a protective
impulse in even the most hard boiled of public servants, so
the dispatcher quickly put out the call.

Naturally, Deputy Jimmy was sent to take care of things. He
covers just about everything in our little corner of the
county. He's been here all his life, and not much gets past
him. When Deputy Jimmy pulls you over, he doesn't ask for
ID, 'cause he already knows who you are. He's much more
likely to ask you (1) how your Mother is feeling these days
and (2) how she would feel if she knew the foolishness he
thinks you're about to get into. Of course, I only know
about that from other people, not my own experience.

Deputy Jimmy actually has a pretty low arrest rate, but then
we have a pretty low crime rate, and I don't think that's a
coincidence.

His usual routine for a "prowler at the High School" call is
to arrive conspicuously but deliberately, taking his time so
that the culprits can finish papering the trees or
repainting the big hunk of granite on the front lawn before
he slowly gets out of his car and doesn't catch them.

I guess I need to explain the big rock. It's called the
"Hanging Rock", but that's just to sound ominous and
spooky. It was originally set up to honor Harold Hanig, a
local boy who went off to World War II and became a pilot,
and stayed in service afterwards. He was a pretty good
story of local boy makes good, and the folks in town wanted
to honor him. They put up that big old rock with a plaque
on it in the front of the High School.

Of course, Harold was off in all parts of the world, and
didn't make it back to town until he came for a visit the
year I was a senior. He came by the High School and made a
little speech in his uniform, and went out to see his
monument.

Now, Harold's speech, as I remember it, was pretty standard
recruiting and inspirational patriotic talk, and I don't
think he wrote it himself. He didn't seem to be the type
for flowery phrases.

We got a better glimpse of his personality when he walked
out front and saw the rock with his plaque on it.

"It looks like a Goddam tombstone! I ain't ready for that
yet!"

Well, this didn't go over too well with the Principal and
the ladies from the PTA, but the senior boys loved it. That
night several of us, I mean several of the boys went out and
painted it bright Air Force Blue with Silver Stripes. I
heard later he liked it a lot better that way.

Anyway, over the years, "Hanig's Rock" turned into "Hanging
Rock", and it got painted a lot, in all sorts of colors,
particularly in the spring.

So this was not the first time Jimmy had been dispatched to
the school.

But this time was different.

He didn't see any new decorative features, but he did see
the open side door. As he came up to the door, he reached
for his flashlight, but changed his mind, thinking it would
make him too conspicuous. He eased himself in and started
moving slowly down the side of the hall. He thought he
heard footsteps down the hall, but he wasn't sure.

As he moved to the other side of the hall to get a better
angle, Jimmy saw the threatening figure in the shadows of
the lobby. Without a conscious thought, he instantly pulled
his pistol and drew down on Elvis.

"POLICE! FREEZE!"

Elvis actually did that pretty well.

"PUT YOUR HANDS UP! NOW!"

Elvis' cooperation level dropped with this command, and
Jimmy got more nervous. If "up" didn't work, he'd try
"down".

"ON THE FLOOR! NOW! MOVE IT!"

Elvis refused to drop. Just then, a gust of wind hit the
trees in front of the school, and the whirling shadows of
the street lights made it look like Elvis was on the attack.

"OH, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DON'T MAKE ME SHOOT YOU!"

That was enough for Matt. He hit the main breaker, and
bright light and laughing teenagers filled the halls. Jimmy
immediately realized he'd been had. He very carefully
reholstered his pistol, checking it for safety. Three
times.

"OK, boys, very funny. You got me, fair and square." He
then went over and made a big show of reading Elvis his
rights, carefully emphasizing his right to remain silent.

I drove by about this time, coming back from a beer and ice
cream run. I saw the lights and all the commotion, and
pulled in next to Jimmy's car. I got several versions of
the story as the kids left, proud of their little joke.

Mr. Henry also showed up about then because, well, Mr. Henry
somehow always shows up when something interesting is going
on.

Jimmy stayed jovial and cheerful as he shooed the boys out
and secured the building, but as he walked back to his car
he just seemed to deflate, like a Valentine's balloon that
stayed around 'til March.

He wouldn't even look at us, he just slumped against the
door and started talking.

"I can't believe it! The closest I've ever come to firing
my gun for real, and it's a damn plastic statue. I try to
do everything right, and I wind up looking like a fool.
But I don't mind telling you, I was scared! I was flat
scared for sure, and I almost pulled the trigger. And what's
more, I don't know if I was more afraid of him gettin' me,
or me shootin' him...."

There was a long silence. I tried to think of something to
say, but came up empty. I looked over at Mr. Henry, hoping
for a little help, some of his convoluted philosophical
ramblings.

But Mr. Henry was brief. "You're a good man, Jimmy."

That didn't deem too eloquent to me, but it seemed to have
some effect. I guess Jimmy considered the source and took
it as high praise.

Deputy Jimmy was still upset, but he managed to stand up a
bit taller. Then he nodded at us, got in his car and drove
away.

I halfway expected more discussion, but the issue seemed
closed. Mr. Henry did go over and look at the rock for a
few minutes, and when he came back to the truck he said,
"Any more word from your son?".

"Well," I said, "I got some bad news and some good news."

There was just a flicker of concern on Mr. Henry's face,
before he realized the bad news couldn't be real bad, or he
would have known already.

"OK," he said, "What's the bad news?"

"His big ol' truck broke down." I tried to keep a straight
face.

"And the good news?" said Mr. Henry, playing along.

"It broke down in Kuwait, not Iraq! So he's going to stay
there the last few weeks until he comes home."

Mr. Henry looked pleased. "So he's done with the war?"

"That's right," I said. "For him at least, Elvis has left
the building."

--------------------
Bob McKellar










































  #2  
Old March 17th 04, 06:15 PM
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Default

Bob McKellar wrote:
--cut--

But Mr. Henry was brief. "You're a good man, Jimmy."

That didn't deem too eloquent to me, but it seemed to have
some effect. I guess Jimmy considered the source and took
it as high praise.


Good job Bob...well deserving of a place in the Chronicles.
--

-Gord.
 




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