By: Noway Hosay
Warning: This story is not a normal story. It is a story of such emotional intensity that every so often it is deemed necessary to insert an intermission. This so that the reader is not unnecessarily overwhelmed by whatever emotions may be aroused by the graphic tragedy this tale contains.
The Story: Jane was a fairly normal girl growing up as I recall. She enjoyed all the normal things that girls her age enjoyed: dolls, cats, food (except pickles and olives), the color "red", hippopotumuses, and romantic crime novels (just kidding). She was always safety conscious and was careful to pray for protection on her way to school, on her way home from school, on her way to church, on her way home from church, on her way to her friend's house, etc., but she never thought about THE DUMP. And so that fateful day crept upon her unawares...
The sun shone brightly out of the East with not a cloud to hinder the view across the horizon. It was a very nice day, even nice enough to go to the landfill, Jane thought as she rode in the passenger seat of her dad's 2 year-old Ford Pickup, F-250, 4x4, with just 20,000 miles. As they drove into the landfill back to where the garbage was disposed of, she noticed the 2 foot deep ditch, complete with plenty of sludge, off to her right.
"What!" Her dad shouted, interrupting her thoughts, "Can't you stay on your side of the road? I pay taxes too, okay?"
"I am on my side," Jane replied.
"Not you! Him!"
Just then Jane noticed a large Mack truck heading right toward them! She screamed and covered her eyes as her dad swerved uncontrollably and sunk into the ditch. In desperation, he gunned it, but alas, his truck did not move.
INTERMISSION
"Whatever are we going to do?" Jane wailed, as they sat at a 45 degree angle.
"Never fear, my dear, I'll lock the hubs, and we'll put it in 4 wheel drive," Dad replied in his best Harlow impression.
"But, Dad, you already have it 4 wheel drive."
"Oh, right, just checking to see if you were paying attention. Heh, heh, heh!"
But Jane was not laughing; she just wanted to get out of there. Her dad rocked the truck back and forth, and with much mud spewing everywhere, managed to get the truck back on the road. Fortunately, the rest of the trip was uneventful, but little did she know of the danger that lurked around the corner in her future...
Well, several years passed, and Jane managed somehow to avoid getting stuck -- well, if she did, she always got unstuck without too much difficulty. However, the evening came when her parents insisted that she stay with her Aunt Matilda Cheepscate. There was no getting out of it; so she bravely faced the fact that she might as well make up her mind to ingest Aunt Matilda's gruel and stale bread.
"Oh dear child, you look positively scrumptious!" Jane's aunt gushed
How disgusting! Jane thought, but then she realized that her aunt didn't mean it literally. After all, she was no where near the 40 watt bulb that Aunt Matilda used for cooking. Still, Jane seemed strangely unaware of the potential this opportunity presented her for being stuck; whether it was denial or whether it was an oversight, I'm not sure.
"Where are we going?" Jane wondered as Aunt Matilda jerked the wheel on her aging, rusted-out Pinto with over 300,000 miles on it.
"Oh, it's a surprise."
No! No! Not The Dump! Jane thought. But it was. It was a local grease joint that everyone referred to as The Dump. It was a building with unsteady walls (held together with rotting wood siding, baling wire, and duct tape), sagging doors, broken windows, curled up shingles; and there was trash strewn all over the yard. It was by no means as attractive as my description makes it sound.
The aroma of dead fish and rotten eggs greeted Jane and Matilda as they staggered through the door and found a table.
"I'll have the Greaseburger with Limpid Fries, please," said Aunt Matilda.
"Just the Trashcan Sandwich and Muddy Water, for me," said Jane fighting off the urge to gag.
Fortunately Jane was hungry enough that she could avoid offending Aunt Matilda by choking down the suspiscious food without too much difficulty. However, when it was time to leave, with a rising sense of panic (and heartburn), she suddenly felt like...
INTERMISSION
...like she was permanently affixed to her chair. Must've been the remains of someone's Molassesburger...from 1980, she thought ruefully. Not being one to walk around with a chair protruding from the hinderparts of her dress, she jerked repeatedly on the chair until it came loose (along with parts of her clothing).
"Let's get outta' here," Aunt Matilda said.
For once, Jane couldn't agree with her more. They paid and hurried out of there; Jane's tattered dress rippling in the breeze. How embarrassing! She could feel others staring at the gaping holes in her dress even as she climbed into the car and slammed the door. Boy, did she feel about 1" tall right about then! But it was nothing -- I repeat -- nothing compared to the sheer embarrassment that would come to pass years later...
Contrary to her parents' expectations, Jane did eventually grow up. Not only that, but she even became entrenched (not stuck) in a dating relationship with Jose. And even more than that, she decided to take a position at Morlern Truth Programs (without checking into the potential of deranged maniacs lurking about the place). Soon after taking on the position, she bid her new deranged coworkers farwell and headed off to a place called Planty Unwideness in order to teach Bible school with Jose and some of her more normal friends.
One night as they sat around listlessly sorting their sock collection, Jose had an idea.
"Hey, you wanna' go to The Dump with me?",
Jane, being bored enough to have forgotten all her other close calls at The Dump, said, "Sure, why not? It's only 11 O'Clock."
"This shouldn't take long; I wouldn't worry about mosquito repellent." Little did they realize that these are famous last words of those who get stuck at The Dump...
The half moon hid behind the clouds as wolves howled in the distance. A large hungry-looking bear stood by the road staring at them as they entered The Dump. Jane shuddered at the eerie picture this left on her mind.
"I'm sure glad we're inside right now."
"Yeah, imagine getting eaten by wolves, bears, and mosquitoes all at once. That would constitute a Bad Evening; wouldn't you say?" Jose asked.
She was still thinking of the "Bad Evening" part when without warning the van jerked to the right ...
INTERMISSION
...as the right side of the van sank up to its axles in the soft sand. Jose tried rocking the van, until Jane pointed out that throwing rocks is not how you rock it. She started to get out and push (like several guys had done for her when her van was stuck in the ditch in front of the chapel, but that's another story), but the sight of the hordes of mosquitoes, followed by a couple of bears ambling towards them while licking their chops, stopped her.
"Oh well, welcome to our date!" Jose said trying not to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.
"This is... 'different'! Maybe we should pray that someone back at Planty Unwideness sends out a search party." Jane suggested.
"Great idea! I love parties!"
"Jose!"
"Just kidding, just kidding!"
They prayed and talked, and then they prayed and talked some more. The night wore on; the bears looked hungrily in the windows, and the wolves slunk about in the inky shadows. Finally, after a long time (which was roughly the equivalent of the time it took for the rise and fall of the Roman Empire), they spotted headlights coming toward them.
"Hey, why are there head lice out here?" Jose wondered.
"I SAID "headlights" not "head lice!" Jane said in disgust.
"Oh, sorry."
Jane saw the headlights of their search party, and she was thankful -- thankful that God had sent a search party. Then she thought of her date, and she was sad and glad all at the same time. She was sad that her obstreperous coworkers would find endless hours of amusement in regaling her about her "trashy date". However, she was glad -- glad that she was able to spend lots of time with Jose, instead of with someone boring.
THE END
*Based on "Why God Let C.K. IV Fall Out Of The Shower" by Dustin Miller.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Why God Let C.K. IV Fall Out of The Shower
By: Dustin Miller
This story is not a normal story. It is a story so intense that every so often there must be a break ( some call it an intermission ) so that the listener is not unnecessarily overwhelmed by whatever emotions are aroused as they hear the details of this tragedy. Actually, this is one of those breaks and I bet I caught you off guard because it came so soon ( heh, heh, heh ). Anyways, from now on I will signal the intermissions and the teller of the story is responsible to do whatever he feels appropriate. Oh, I guess you wanted to hear the story. My bad!
C.K. IV was a fairly normal boy growing up at home with his parents, as I recall. He was very safety conscious and his boyhood prayers especially reflected this characteristic. He would ask God to keep him safe on the way to school, on his way to church, on his way home from church, on his way to see his friends, etc..... BUT, he never thought about THE SHOWER; and so the fateful day crept upon him unawares.
Well, C.K. IV eventually became a young man and went to Bible school. He studied hard and learned much and then the day came when the students left to go on a musical tour across the United States. That day C.K. IV, as well as all the other students from the Bible school, rolled out of the little driveway onto the road to spend the month singing. It was a beautiful day for C.K., a nice nap on the road, a good program, very hospitable hosts, but they say a day isn't over until it is over. As he relaxed, he wondered whether he should take a shower that evening or the next morning. He made his decision, stepped into the shower, and...
INTERMISSION
Where was I? Oh yes, he stepped into the bathroom and took a shower and went to bed to dream peacefully of seagulls soaring up and down, occasionally splashing into the water to grab little fish.
Well, as tour progressed, C.K. IV continued taking showers ( quite surprising, after that first memorable experience, isn't it? ). Then one evening, after a fairly uneventful program, C.K. IV and his sidekicks Moe and Joe stayed at the same place and they had....a shower.
That night C.K. dreamed again, and this time it was about a cat that was running around a rocking chair. The lady in the chair rocked back on the cat's tail, causing him to jump on the table, knocking over an oil lamp and setting the house on fire. In his dream, C.K. was uncomfortably close to the burning house and the flames grew hotter and hotter, until he could barely stand it. Suddenly, his eyes flew open, only to discover Moe assaulting his face with a hair dryer and the news that he better get on the ball if he wanted a ride on the bus.The fateful day had arrived, but C.K. had no clue that danger was lurking nearby.
He stepped into the shower and turned the water on just as he realized he had forgotten to get a washcloth out of the bathroom cupboard. He began to step out of the tub/shower combination, not thinking about the two inch difference between that tub and his tub at home. Well, he started to step out and....
INTERMISSION
Well, the trip to the bathroom cupboard and back was uneventful, and C.K. tried again to take his shower. Showers were not new to C.K. IV, and he was not easily frightened, but this time he feared for his life for some strange, unknown reason. But he went ahead and turned the water on again, anticipating its warmth. But then he noticed that...it was getting hot very quickly. "Oh no!" cried C.K., as he frantically tried to push the little button with his foot that would turn the shower off so he could adjust the temperature.
Let us take a moment to describe the shower curtain and rod in some detail. The rod was placed at a height at which C.K.'s shoulders were well above it. Consequently, the shower curtain came down the full height of the tub wall, plus some. Back to the story.
C.K. managed to get the shower button thing pushed down with a minimum amount of scalding, but as he brought his foot back...
INTERMISSION
As he brought his foot back, he unsuspectingly places it on the extreme edge of the shower curtain underneath of which is the curve connecting the horizontal and vertical parts of the tub. Needless to say, his foot continues following the curve of the tub to the left, and the top half of his body begins its descent to the right. The shower curtain and rod did not have a chance, if you'll remember their height compared to C.K.'s.
Back in their room, Moe and Joe became alarmed when they heard an eardrum-shattering crash from the general vicinity of the bathroom. They rushed to the door, but it was locked. "Should we call 911?" Moe asked Joe. "No, let's just bust the door down and see if he's alright." After several minutes of intense discussion, they decided to call his name and hope he would answer. "C.K.!" "C.K. IV! Are you alright?" Over and over they called through the door, into the bathroom.
Meanwhile C.K. sat helplessly in the bathroom, totally drained of his strength from trying to disentangle himself from the shower curtain. "Oh my, what will everyone think when they find out? What will they say?" Over and over he moaned these words, weeping a flood of tears.
What was that? Had he heard a voice? Yes? Through the plastic shower curtain he heard his name being called over and over, wondering if he was alright. " Yeah, I'm fine," he said disgustedly, as he finally unraveled himself from the shower curtain. Then C.K. thought of his shower. He was sad--and glad at the same time.
Emergencies were not new to Moe and Joe, but this time they feared for C.K.'s life. But, ten minutes later, they were glad to see him in one piece.
The legend of C.K. IV and his showers lives on in the hearts and minds of his dearest friends. And while this is based on a true story, I must state that it is fiction and must be regarded as such.
This story is not a normal story. It is a story so intense that every so often there must be a break ( some call it an intermission ) so that the listener is not unnecessarily overwhelmed by whatever emotions are aroused as they hear the details of this tragedy. Actually, this is one of those breaks and I bet I caught you off guard because it came so soon ( heh, heh, heh ). Anyways, from now on I will signal the intermissions and the teller of the story is responsible to do whatever he feels appropriate. Oh, I guess you wanted to hear the story. My bad!
C.K. IV was a fairly normal boy growing up at home with his parents, as I recall. He was very safety conscious and his boyhood prayers especially reflected this characteristic. He would ask God to keep him safe on the way to school, on his way to church, on his way home from church, on his way to see his friends, etc..... BUT, he never thought about THE SHOWER; and so the fateful day crept upon him unawares.
Well, C.K. IV eventually became a young man and went to Bible school. He studied hard and learned much and then the day came when the students left to go on a musical tour across the United States. That day C.K. IV, as well as all the other students from the Bible school, rolled out of the little driveway onto the road to spend the month singing. It was a beautiful day for C.K., a nice nap on the road, a good program, very hospitable hosts, but they say a day isn't over until it is over. As he relaxed, he wondered whether he should take a shower that evening or the next morning. He made his decision, stepped into the shower, and...
INTERMISSION
Where was I? Oh yes, he stepped into the bathroom and took a shower and went to bed to dream peacefully of seagulls soaring up and down, occasionally splashing into the water to grab little fish.
Well, as tour progressed, C.K. IV continued taking showers ( quite surprising, after that first memorable experience, isn't it? ). Then one evening, after a fairly uneventful program, C.K. IV and his sidekicks Moe and Joe stayed at the same place and they had....a shower.
That night C.K. dreamed again, and this time it was about a cat that was running around a rocking chair. The lady in the chair rocked back on the cat's tail, causing him to jump on the table, knocking over an oil lamp and setting the house on fire. In his dream, C.K. was uncomfortably close to the burning house and the flames grew hotter and hotter, until he could barely stand it. Suddenly, his eyes flew open, only to discover Moe assaulting his face with a hair dryer and the news that he better get on the ball if he wanted a ride on the bus.The fateful day had arrived, but C.K. had no clue that danger was lurking nearby.
He stepped into the shower and turned the water on just as he realized he had forgotten to get a washcloth out of the bathroom cupboard. He began to step out of the tub/shower combination, not thinking about the two inch difference between that tub and his tub at home. Well, he started to step out and....
INTERMISSION
Well, the trip to the bathroom cupboard and back was uneventful, and C.K. tried again to take his shower. Showers were not new to C.K. IV, and he was not easily frightened, but this time he feared for his life for some strange, unknown reason. But he went ahead and turned the water on again, anticipating its warmth. But then he noticed that...it was getting hot very quickly. "Oh no!" cried C.K., as he frantically tried to push the little button with his foot that would turn the shower off so he could adjust the temperature.
Let us take a moment to describe the shower curtain and rod in some detail. The rod was placed at a height at which C.K.'s shoulders were well above it. Consequently, the shower curtain came down the full height of the tub wall, plus some. Back to the story.
C.K. managed to get the shower button thing pushed down with a minimum amount of scalding, but as he brought his foot back...
INTERMISSION
As he brought his foot back, he unsuspectingly places it on the extreme edge of the shower curtain underneath of which is the curve connecting the horizontal and vertical parts of the tub. Needless to say, his foot continues following the curve of the tub to the left, and the top half of his body begins its descent to the right. The shower curtain and rod did not have a chance, if you'll remember their height compared to C.K.'s.
Back in their room, Moe and Joe became alarmed when they heard an eardrum-shattering crash from the general vicinity of the bathroom. They rushed to the door, but it was locked. "Should we call 911?" Moe asked Joe. "No, let's just bust the door down and see if he's alright." After several minutes of intense discussion, they decided to call his name and hope he would answer. "C.K.!" "C.K. IV! Are you alright?" Over and over they called through the door, into the bathroom.
Meanwhile C.K. sat helplessly in the bathroom, totally drained of his strength from trying to disentangle himself from the shower curtain. "Oh my, what will everyone think when they find out? What will they say?" Over and over he moaned these words, weeping a flood of tears.
What was that? Had he heard a voice? Yes? Through the plastic shower curtain he heard his name being called over and over, wondering if he was alright. " Yeah, I'm fine," he said disgustedly, as he finally unraveled himself from the shower curtain. Then C.K. thought of his shower. He was sad--and glad at the same time.
Emergencies were not new to Moe and Joe, but this time they feared for C.K.'s life. But, ten minutes later, they were glad to see him in one piece.
The legend of C.K. IV and his showers lives on in the hearts and minds of his dearest friends. And while this is based on a true story, I must state that it is fiction and must be regarded as such.
Actual Headlines
Drunk Gets Nine Months In Violin Case
Survivor Of Siamese Twins Joins Parents
Stolen Painting Found By Tree
Two Sisters Reunited After 18 Years In Checkout Counter
Never Withhold Herpes Infection From Loved One
War Dims Hope For Peace
Red Tape Holds Up New Bridge
Astronaut Takes Blame For Gas In Spacecraft
Local High School Dropouts Cut In Half
Old School Pillars Are Replaced By Alumni
Hospitals Are Sued By 7 Foot Doctors
Include Your Children When Baking Cookies
Iraqi Head Seeks Arms
Survivor Of Siamese Twins Joins Parents
Stolen Painting Found By Tree
Two Sisters Reunited After 18 Years In Checkout Counter
Never Withhold Herpes Infection From Loved One
War Dims Hope For Peace
Red Tape Holds Up New Bridge
Astronaut Takes Blame For Gas In Spacecraft
Local High School Dropouts Cut In Half
Old School Pillars Are Replaced By Alumni
Hospitals Are Sued By 7 Foot Doctors
Include Your Children When Baking Cookies
Iraqi Head Seeks Arms
Monday, December 14, 2009
This is not a normal story. It is a story so intense that every so often a break is inserted so that the reader is not unnecessarily overwhelmed by whatever emotions are aroused as he or she reads this story. Facial tissues are recommended.
Why Konner Let Konner Con Her Over The Phone*
By I. C. Thruyu
Konner was a fairly normal boy growing up with his parents, as I recall. He was very careful to tell the truth, and his boyhood prayers especially reflected this characteristic. He would ask God to help him tell the truth at home, at school, at church, at his friend's house, etc. BUT he never thought about telling the truth on THE PHONE. And so that fateful day crept upon him unawares.
Well, Konner eventually became a young man and applied to go to the camp as a counselor. He was accepted, according to the letter he had received from the camp. He was very excited. "Eureka!" He exclaimed, as his brother watched him read the letter. He looked up in time to see his brother hold his nose shut. He guessed he must not smell too great either. He brought his mind back to the subject at hand, and he realized that he had never been anywhere near a camp. So he immediately began studying books on how to camp (Camping for Dummies).
One day while he was away, the camp secretary called and spoke to his mother.
"Is Konner there?" She wondered.
"No, but I could take a message, and he can call you back," his mother replied. When Konner returned later that day, his mother relayed the message to him. However, in his haste to return the call he forgot all about his effort to always tell the truth. Was this a perfect opportunity to disguise his voice and make up an alias? He picked up the receiver and dialed the number. He waited and waited, and after two rings she answered. He opened his mouth and . . .
INTERMISSION
He told the truth without any problem, and he gave her the required information without any vagueness on his part. That night he went to bed and dreamed that he was a happy buffalo chasing some butterflies (or was it mosquitoes?). After this, he dreamed he had made up a story that he was working for a place called Camplake Resort where they offered many amneties such as golfing, skiing, horseback riding, and fishing. What are amneties, and why couldn't he say amenities in his dream? These were his thoughts as he awoke. And why did I have to wear socks there anyway? Buffaloes don't wear socks.
At last the day came for him to go to camp, and when he got there he had a good time working as a counselor. He was a good counselor because he always told the truth, and he did return as a counselor for many summers afterward. He had decided the campers sure could use a lot of counselling. However, his days as counselor were coming to an end. The day came when the camp needed a maintenance guy, and Konner decided to apply for the position never thinking that there he might have to use . . . The Phone.
Once again, he was accepted, and he immediately moved into the new position and even used The Phone on occasion without incident. Things were going well in his job, and by now he was well into his term. It was a nice position, interesting work, pleasant coworkers, comfortable apartment, but they say a term isn't over until it is over. As he relaxed one evening after a hard day of changing lightbulbs, he wondered if he should surprise his mother by calling her that night or wait 'til the next. He made his decision. He slowly picked up The Phone and . . .
INTERMISSION
Where was I? Oh yes, he called his mother, and they had a pleasant conversation. He forgot to disguise his voice and use an alias, but told the truth instead. That night he dreamed again. This time his mother called him and interrupted his guitar playing and singing. She disguised her voice and even used some French, but he knew right away who it was. He hung up. The person singing at his feet had disappeared, but at least he still had his guitar in front of him. He tried to play, but his arms were stuck, they wouldn't move! Fighting panic, he awoke to the sound of ripping duct tape as his coworker wrapped yet another layer around Konner's arms. Konner tried to jerk his arms free, but it was no use.
"Help!" He cried, causing his coworker to laugh at his plight.
"Relax," said his coworker after regain his composure, "we're just practicing for the boy's club. I'll free you after awhile. (Right after you tell me what you did with the double-stuffed oreos.)" Well, Konner was sure glad that was all it was. For awhile he was afraid he had been lured into his old shed and captured by the notorious prison escapees, Rick and Bubba. He pushed aside all thoughts of being captured, as he considered the list of things that needed to be done that day. He decided he would work on the left cabin. The Phone in the left cabin.
The fateful day had arrived, but Konner had no clue of the danger lurking nearby. He spent most of the morning working on the communication system, and at last he was finished. Now for the test. His eyes fell on The Phone right beside him. After returning his eyes back into their sockets, he dialed the camp number. It was ringing through. So far so good, he thought. Then she answered and without thinking he opened his mouth . . .
INTERMISSION
And said in a disguised voice, "Could I have a place to stay tonight?"
"For just you?"
"Yes, just me. Oh, and my seven children. We're at the bus station in town and need a place to stay. Just for tonight. Oh, and could you pick us up too?"
"Oookay. Let me check. May I ask who's calling?"
"Uh, this is Ko -- this is Lonner. Yes, Lonner."
"Please hold while I check."
Well, Konner could contain himself no longer, and burst into gales of unbridled mirth much to the consternation of the person on the other end. Oh no, he thought after he hung up. What did I do? I just wanted to know if The Phone worked and I got carried away with my false story! What if she tries to get back at me? What if she hides behind one of the many doors we have here and jumps out and scares the socks off of me? (Then I would be in violation of dress code.) What if she calls me out of the blue instead of using The Phone? And what if she disguises her voice and . . . and . . . and talks in . . . French? He shuddered as he thought about how desperate someone would have to be to resort to using French.
Days went by, and he eventually forgot about any threats on his physical well-bean. Well-being, that is. But little did he know that one day while he was away, some perpetrators had broken into his apartment to teach him a lesson about the truth. He unsuspectingly opened the door to his apartment filled with uncharacteristic good cheer over the prospect of taking a trip to Him Thortons that night. He strode over to his bedroom, not realizing that his bedroom door was hanging open approximately two inches more than normal. He grasped the knob to push the door open and . . .
INTERMISSION
There before him were all seven of his children! Shocked? Yeah, you could say that. Shocked and slightly embarrassed at the sight of his room being in such a mess. Also, he had forgotten to iron the tablecloth in the kitchen/dining/living area. But he brought his thoughts back to the subject at hand.
"How did they get all of them in here?" He said to no one in particular. "And how'd they get them to stay in one place?" It was then he realized that -- wait a minute -- these weren't his children, these were balloons taking the form of his children! They even had names printed on their faces. How thoughtful. How sweet.
When Konner saw his children, he was glad. Now he would not have to worry about any more revenge from the phone operator. With these thoughts in mind, Konner went about his peaceful existence for the rest of his term at the camp. He told the truth regularly, even on The Phone. But after his term had ended, he left the camp and went on a lengthy road trip with some former coworkers. During this time, he called the camp for a phone number and disguised his voice and . . . well, that's another story.
The legend of Konner and The Phone lives on in the hearts and minds of his dearest friends. And while this is based on a true story, I must state that it is fiction and should be regarded as such.
*Based on "Why God Let C.K.IV Fall Out of the Shower" by Dustin Miller
Why Konner Let Konner Con Her Over The Phone*
By I. C. Thruyu
Konner was a fairly normal boy growing up with his parents, as I recall. He was very careful to tell the truth, and his boyhood prayers especially reflected this characteristic. He would ask God to help him tell the truth at home, at school, at church, at his friend's house, etc. BUT he never thought about telling the truth on THE PHONE. And so that fateful day crept upon him unawares.
Well, Konner eventually became a young man and applied to go to the camp as a counselor. He was accepted, according to the letter he had received from the camp. He was very excited. "Eureka!" He exclaimed, as his brother watched him read the letter. He looked up in time to see his brother hold his nose shut. He guessed he must not smell too great either. He brought his mind back to the subject at hand, and he realized that he had never been anywhere near a camp. So he immediately began studying books on how to camp (Camping for Dummies).
One day while he was away, the camp secretary called and spoke to his mother.
"Is Konner there?" She wondered.
"No, but I could take a message, and he can call you back," his mother replied. When Konner returned later that day, his mother relayed the message to him. However, in his haste to return the call he forgot all about his effort to always tell the truth. Was this a perfect opportunity to disguise his voice and make up an alias? He picked up the receiver and dialed the number. He waited and waited, and after two rings she answered. He opened his mouth and . . .
INTERMISSION
He told the truth without any problem, and he gave her the required information without any vagueness on his part. That night he went to bed and dreamed that he was a happy buffalo chasing some butterflies (or was it mosquitoes?). After this, he dreamed he had made up a story that he was working for a place called Camplake Resort where they offered many amneties such as golfing, skiing, horseback riding, and fishing. What are amneties, and why couldn't he say amenities in his dream? These were his thoughts as he awoke. And why did I have to wear socks there anyway? Buffaloes don't wear socks.
At last the day came for him to go to camp, and when he got there he had a good time working as a counselor. He was a good counselor because he always told the truth, and he did return as a counselor for many summers afterward. He had decided the campers sure could use a lot of counselling. However, his days as counselor were coming to an end. The day came when the camp needed a maintenance guy, and Konner decided to apply for the position never thinking that there he might have to use . . . The Phone.
Once again, he was accepted, and he immediately moved into the new position and even used The Phone on occasion without incident. Things were going well in his job, and by now he was well into his term. It was a nice position, interesting work, pleasant coworkers, comfortable apartment, but they say a term isn't over until it is over. As he relaxed one evening after a hard day of changing lightbulbs, he wondered if he should surprise his mother by calling her that night or wait 'til the next. He made his decision. He slowly picked up The Phone and . . .
INTERMISSION
Where was I? Oh yes, he called his mother, and they had a pleasant conversation. He forgot to disguise his voice and use an alias, but told the truth instead. That night he dreamed again. This time his mother called him and interrupted his guitar playing and singing. She disguised her voice and even used some French, but he knew right away who it was. He hung up. The person singing at his feet had disappeared, but at least he still had his guitar in front of him. He tried to play, but his arms were stuck, they wouldn't move! Fighting panic, he awoke to the sound of ripping duct tape as his coworker wrapped yet another layer around Konner's arms. Konner tried to jerk his arms free, but it was no use.
"Help!" He cried, causing his coworker to laugh at his plight.
"Relax," said his coworker after regain his composure, "we're just practicing for the boy's club. I'll free you after awhile. (Right after you tell me what you did with the double-stuffed oreos.)" Well, Konner was sure glad that was all it was. For awhile he was afraid he had been lured into his old shed and captured by the notorious prison escapees, Rick and Bubba. He pushed aside all thoughts of being captured, as he considered the list of things that needed to be done that day. He decided he would work on the left cabin. The Phone in the left cabin.
The fateful day had arrived, but Konner had no clue of the danger lurking nearby. He spent most of the morning working on the communication system, and at last he was finished. Now for the test. His eyes fell on The Phone right beside him. After returning his eyes back into their sockets, he dialed the camp number. It was ringing through. So far so good, he thought. Then she answered and without thinking he opened his mouth . . .
INTERMISSION
And said in a disguised voice, "Could I have a place to stay tonight?"
"For just you?"
"Yes, just me. Oh, and my seven children. We're at the bus station in town and need a place to stay. Just for tonight. Oh, and could you pick us up too?"
"Oookay. Let me check. May I ask who's calling?"
"Uh, this is Ko -- this is Lonner. Yes, Lonner."
"Please hold while I check."
Well, Konner could contain himself no longer, and burst into gales of unbridled mirth much to the consternation of the person on the other end. Oh no, he thought after he hung up. What did I do? I just wanted to know if The Phone worked and I got carried away with my false story! What if she tries to get back at me? What if she hides behind one of the many doors we have here and jumps out and scares the socks off of me? (Then I would be in violation of dress code.) What if she calls me out of the blue instead of using The Phone? And what if she disguises her voice and . . . and . . . and talks in . . . French? He shuddered as he thought about how desperate someone would have to be to resort to using French.
Days went by, and he eventually forgot about any threats on his physical well-bean. Well-being, that is. But little did he know that one day while he was away, some perpetrators had broken into his apartment to teach him a lesson about the truth. He unsuspectingly opened the door to his apartment filled with uncharacteristic good cheer over the prospect of taking a trip to Him Thortons that night. He strode over to his bedroom, not realizing that his bedroom door was hanging open approximately two inches more than normal. He grasped the knob to push the door open and . . .
INTERMISSION
There before him were all seven of his children! Shocked? Yeah, you could say that. Shocked and slightly embarrassed at the sight of his room being in such a mess. Also, he had forgotten to iron the tablecloth in the kitchen/dining/living area. But he brought his thoughts back to the subject at hand.
"How did they get all of them in here?" He said to no one in particular. "And how'd they get them to stay in one place?" It was then he realized that -- wait a minute -- these weren't his children, these were balloons taking the form of his children! They even had names printed on their faces. How thoughtful. How sweet.
When Konner saw his children, he was glad. Now he would not have to worry about any more revenge from the phone operator. With these thoughts in mind, Konner went about his peaceful existence for the rest of his term at the camp. He told the truth regularly, even on The Phone. But after his term had ended, he left the camp and went on a lengthy road trip with some former coworkers. During this time, he called the camp for a phone number and disguised his voice and . . . well, that's another story.
The legend of Konner and The Phone lives on in the hearts and minds of his dearest friends. And while this is based on a true story, I must state that it is fiction and should be regarded as such.
*Based on "Why God Let C.K.IV Fall Out of the Shower" by Dustin Miller
Friday, December 11, 2009
Mr. Johnny Came Home
Mr. Johnny died the other week. He was a chain smoker, was known to be an alcoholic back in the day, and generally led a rough life. Maybe because he was a logger, but probably not. Most likely it was because he didn't know the Lord.
I saw his widow this week, and she told me all about the events leading up to his death. She's one of those that, once you get her started . . . well, let's just say you just might sit there awhile. So she recounted how he ended up in the emergency room and then in hospice. He was there for 2 weeks before he died.
In the past year he'd been going to church when he could, but he was never ready to make any kind of commitment. He did have a pretty good relationship with the preacher of a local baptist church, though. The Preacher must be a remarkable man, because at the funeral he described how God woke him up at 4 am and told him to go visit Johnny. He did.
When he walked up to the room where he was staying, he could hear Mr. Johnny himself praying out loud. Strange, but he sure did show up at the right time. Wouldn't you know The Preacher led him to the Lord right there? Mr. Johnny made things right with his family, and then a few days later, he died. It was a good story.
Talk about last minute repentance! Some of us had prayed for him, and we've (mostly me) wondered if he would ever repent. Sometimes a person just feels like giving up on praying. But then when you least expect it, something changes. One never knows.
I thought of the old Steve and Annie Chapman song, "Uncle Bud Came Home."
Some come home in the mornin'.
Some come home at noon.
Some come home when the sun's goin' down,
Uncle Bud came home by the light of the moon.
Uncle Bud came home . . .
I saw his widow this week, and she told me all about the events leading up to his death. She's one of those that, once you get her started . . . well, let's just say you just might sit there awhile. So she recounted how he ended up in the emergency room and then in hospice. He was there for 2 weeks before he died.
In the past year he'd been going to church when he could, but he was never ready to make any kind of commitment. He did have a pretty good relationship with the preacher of a local baptist church, though. The Preacher must be a remarkable man, because at the funeral he described how God woke him up at 4 am and told him to go visit Johnny. He did.
When he walked up to the room where he was staying, he could hear Mr. Johnny himself praying out loud. Strange, but he sure did show up at the right time. Wouldn't you know The Preacher led him to the Lord right there? Mr. Johnny made things right with his family, and then a few days later, he died. It was a good story.
Talk about last minute repentance! Some of us had prayed for him, and we've (mostly me) wondered if he would ever repent. Sometimes a person just feels like giving up on praying. But then when you least expect it, something changes. One never knows.
I thought of the old Steve and Annie Chapman song, "Uncle Bud Came Home."
Some come home in the mornin'.
Some come home at noon.
Some come home when the sun's goin' down,
Uncle Bud came home by the light of the moon.
Uncle Bud came home . . .
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