The boys are back in town

Page 4

My friend's name is Halfmoon. He is in his sixties. He was nicknamed Halfmoon because he always wore his pants halfway down, showing half of his butt. And why not! It was the style in those days.

Halfmoon and I were very much alike and during our drinking days we would do almost anything to cure that hangover feeling.

We had a little dog that we found on one of our trips and named his Sam. Sam learned to go wherever we went and probably liked bumming too, because he stuck with us all the time.

One day as we were listening to some old Hank Williams tunes on CFWE, a group of young thugs stopped by. They thought Halfmoon was into be-bop-hip-hop music, because he wore his pants half down his butt. As they approached we both looked up and the little dog Sam went over to them wagging his tail, hoping for some attention.

One of the thugs stopped their 32X15 boombox and said, "Snoopy doggie." Halfmoon thought he was talking about our dog Sam, so he got very angry.

With a sudden reflex action, Halfmoon was on his feet, barely able to stand, and accidentally kicked the boys' stereo.

He said, "The dog's name is Sam, not Snoopy! You can tease me by wearing your pants down like me, but don't make fun of my dog.

The noodles we had for last night's supper kicked in and S...mack! His right leg kicked over their heads and he yelled out "GA-YA!" Then he did another move, which he probably learned from watching TV.

He got their attention because they thought he knew some kind of self-defence technique. They ran off like scared rabbits leaving their stereo behind.

Halfmoon turned up the radio and he was back listening to Hank Williams singing those love sick blues. Sam started howling to the music.

The next day we went into a pawn shop with plans to steal something. Halfmoon grabbed a guitar and proceeded to walk out with it, but was immediately stopped by a security guard at the door. Halfmoon was pushed back into the store by the guard and before I could intervene, a fight broke out. Well, before you could say GA-YA, we were back behind bars, and once again eating noodles for supper.

The next morning we were rudely awakened by a guard yelling, "Hey, beer belly. Time to go to court." Halfmoon couldn't let that go without a response.

"It's not beer belly buster! It's noodle belly and it's paid in full."

In court neither one of use knew much of what was being said, because we only knew a few English words like hello and goodbye. The charges against Halfmoon were read out. The prosecutor claimed that Halfmoon tried to steal a guitar and also did some violence against the security guard.

Halfmoon began knocking his head on the table in total frustration and began to mutter, "I'm being framed! All I tried to do was walk out with a guitar. I know nothing about no stinkin' violins!

Finally, the judge ordered Halfmoon to stand.

"This time I am only going to fine you...And sir, please pull up your pants. Next case.

I was walking along a narrow road one day and out of nowhere my old friend Koom-Nuck jumped out from behind an old tree shouting, "Supplies!"

He was always doing foolish things like that and with his broken English he would come up with the funniest sayings. His broken front tooth didn't help much either.

After the surprise, he told me he had a wipe, which I finally figured out he meant he had a wife.

The truth was he almost had a wife. He tried to get her in the old traditional way by promising her father he would support her with three horses. But his mouth got him in trouble because he proceeded to brag about his hunting skills. He claimed he could call a moose in one try, even in the dead of winter, and was so good at shooting with a bow and arrow that he could kill two moose with one shot! Not only that, but he actually bragged that he would have moose-hide moccasins by evening!

Of course, the old man didn't fall for it. He figured for sure that Koom-Nuck would starve his daughter. Obviously there would b no wedding.

I tried to cheer up my distraught friend by inviting him to town for a feed of Kentucky Fried Chicken. After a feast on chicken, he finally smiled.

Then we went for a stroll to the ball park and came upon a ball game already in progress.

Koom-Nuck and I joined in and he was first to bat. He stood there at home plate, looking like he didn't have a clue what to do.

To our amazement he hit the ball with a mighty whack and sent it flying across the nearby lake. After losing a beautiful girl, this helped him get over the pain.

He took off running to third...to second... to first and home. Of course, the ball couldn't be found, so what the heck.

After the game, all the boys went to the bar and we tagged along. Parked outside was a '79 black Trans Am. Koom-Nuck seemed preoccupied and kept looking at the Trans Am and down at his moccasin-clad feet.

"Who owns the Trans Am? He shouted over the noise of the crowd. No one answered. He shouted again. "Who owns the Trans Am?"

Finally a young fellow answered from the back of the room, "It's mine."

Koom-Nuck shouted back, "Do you want to race?"

"No," came the reply.

Koom-Nuck wasn't the kind of fellow who gave up easily, so he persisted until the guy said yes.

As they went outside, the owner of the Trans Am asked Koon-Nuck, "Where's your vehicle?"

"I don't have one," Koom-Nuck replied.

"You don't have a vehicle to race with me?" the man asked in disbelief. "How in the heck do you plan to race me?"

Without saying a word Koom-Nuck stooped to tie up his moccasins.

"You mean to say you plan to race my Trans Am on foot?"|

"Yep," came the reply.

"Get on your mark, you fool," a bystander shouted.

"Get set," he bellowed.

BANG! Went the starting pistol and off they raced.

I wanted to cheer for my friend, but the odds were so against him, I simply kept quiet.

At first the driver of the Trans Am teased him by slowly driving and coming around the track, pretending that Koom-Nuck had a chance to beat the car. Fnally he floored the gas pedal and left Koom-Nuck in a cloud of dust.

As the dust settled, Koom-Nuck was seen weaving back and forth out of control and finally falling to the ground.

"What happened! What's wrong?" we all asked at once.

Koom-Nuck looked up with a stupid grin on his face.

"Just flew a moccasin!"