Thursday, July 17, 2014

Heaven #T

Did I ever finish tellin' you about the day Jonas Hurd damn me to hell?  Waal, Preacher gone on out ahead, 'n Grace and I, we were a walkin' tord the door 'n th' whole time I'ma thinkin' whut am I gonna say to Hurd if he's awaitin' there on the porch to re-ceive the congrat-u-lations a th' people on his fine sermon this mornin'.  Sure 'nuff. There he stand.

Now, you know me.  I have allus been one to strike whilst th' arn is hot, take th' bull by the horns, doncha know?  So when he put out his hand to shake mine, I quick-like grasp all four a his fingers in my hand an' squeeze.  He have a moughty big hand befittin' a moughty big man.  But I know if he grasp my han' I will not get home twel he was ready to let me go home.  So I have a pretty powerful grip, and as luck would have it, my hand reach around his fingers.  "Fine message, Brother Hurd," I say, "I shorely pray thet them whut need it will heed it afore it is too late."  Grace standin' aside me have her right hand in the crook a my left elbow.  She make a fist an' poke me in the ribs.  Hard.  I look at her, and her face is all made up in a disapprovin' scowl.  Lies!  Account I look into her eyes, an' the truth is dancin' there to the tune of laughter.  But she keep silence.

Waal, I release a startled an' still silent Jonas an' say, "By the way, do let us know when thet new young'n get here!"  And we traipse on down the steps, past the hitchin' rails, an' inta the road, where we turn left tord home.  We scarce ten steps along, an' certain'y not yet outa earshot the door a the church when Grace bust out full-bore with thet musical laugh she have.  She catch her breath in a minute and say, "He truly skin you this mornin', stretch, n salt yore hide, 'n nail it to the woodshed wall!"  Then she laugh some more.

Waal, you have to b'lieve me when I tell ya thet the rabbits in the grass poke their ears up, whilst the squirrels climb down headfirst, ahangin' on the trunk a th' trees to get a glimpse a th' wonderful creature whut make such musical sounds in their woods.  Even Owl open his eyes, right in broad daylight, to get a peek at this wonder!

Then we start to skip.  I'm not a lyin'.  We were skippin'!  Skip near halfway home, twel we mos' near use up the strenth we need to get us the last mile a the journey.  We sit for a few minutes on a big branch thet lightnin' had knock out th' walnut tree last week to catch our breath.

"I love you, Silly Man," crooned Grace.

"And you know I love you, Darlin' Angel.  I'ma livin' in Heaven right here on Earth!"

© 2014 David W. Lacy 39

5 comments:

Sharkbytes said...

A love and sense of humor like that are indeed heavenly!

Vee said...

I'm sure preachers don't do those skinnins' with forethought. : )

Where does a guy get a perfect gal like Grace?

Pearl said...

Oh, I love this. :-) I'm beaming over here!!

Pearl

Secondary Roads said...

The perfect followup to last week's tale. I know guys that do that "hand crunch" for a handshake. Sure hurts arthritic hands.

vanilla said...

Sharkey, the practice of such love with humor does indeed provide a bit of heaven in the here and now, imo.

Vee, perhaps those "messages" do pop into some heads and are spoken out without much thought processing them. Where? Lucky man, I say; and lucky couple.

Pearl, thank you! I am thinking that you are brightening someone's day as you are beaming. Keep smiling.

Chuck, thanks. I once had a boss who did that crunch thing. Hated it; but I learned to "grab" before he totally enclosed my hand.