Bubba J’s Christmas…Continued

Last year I shared a Christmas story my friend Bubba J told me.  According to Bubba, “Some of my kin come up short on good decision-making skills.”

Well, I recently learned how apt that description is.

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Since Annie and I moved to Piggott, Arkansas, we’ve found it easier to continue getting our automobile maintenance done at Harry Blackwell’s in Malden rather than switch to another provider.  I mean, Blackwell’s has always treated us well and has given us great service.

Anyway, a month or so ago I took my car by the shop and stepped outside the building to answer a text from Annie.  As I was tapping at my cell phone I heard a familiar sound and looked up to see Bubba J’s ancient pickup pulling in to the parking lot.

I greeted my old friend and we caught up on life, family, friends, and a few other things.  When the conversation turned to the upcoming holiday season I casually mentioned that the Christmas story he’d shared with me last year was very popular with my readers.

Bubba smiled that people would find his family’s misadventures interesting.  He looked at me with one eyebrow raised and said, “If they liked hearing about that morning, you reckon they’d get a kick out of what went on the rest of the day?”

This would be an awful short post if I’d said no, right?

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Bubba began, “Well, you remember, when I stopped last time, me and my Uncle Buck had run Grandpa’s pickup into some trees, and crashed it into Grandma and Grandpa’s brand new outhouse.  Buck had also shot it twice trying to kill a raccoon and we’d both been covered in ‘coon and cow poop.

Bubba took a breath and added, “And that’s when the excitement started.”

I couldn’t imagine things getting more exciting, but I sat quietly and listened.

“Grandpa and some of the kids drug the tree into the house and started decorating it while me and Uncle Buck got to work pulling the pickup out of the outhouse hole.  Unfortunately, the outhouse was so new that it hadn’t been used yet…”

That didn’t make sense to me.  I asked, “You mean, ‘fortunately it hadn’t been used yet, right?’”

Bubba raised an eyebrow, “Who’s tellin’ this story, me or you?  I was there, and it was definitely unfortunate.”

I shrugged in apology as he went on, “Uncle Buck got the tractor and hitched it to the front of the truck.  Old Poppin’ Johnny, eased the truck right out of the hole.”

He continued, “It was a cold winter that year in southeast Missouri, and critters were finding shelter anywhere they could.  When the truck moved, it shifted some of the collapsed outhouse and I thought I saw a cat crawl out of the wreckage.

“I figured it was one of the barn cats so I went over to make sure it was OK.  Well, it was OK, but it wasn’t a barn cat.  Nope, it was a skunk, and it was mad!  That stink-kitty started firing both barrels and I started back-pedaling for all I was worth.

“I yelled, ‘Look out, Uncle Buck!’ and ran toward the house.  Just about the time I got there, Grandpa opened the door to shoo a couple of his huntin’ dogs out.

“Those dogs saw me runnin’ and got excited, then they saw the skunk and, well, they must have thought it was a raccoon, ‘cause they charged right past me and bowled that critter over.

“I tried to close the door when I got inside but Uncle Buck had caught up to me and shoved the door back open.

“I tried to catch the door again so I could close it when something else hit it…or rather two somethings…well, three.  The hounds had realized their mistake and got to the door at almost the same time as Uncle Buck.  They blew on into the house right behind him. 

“Now, when the dogs attacked the skunk, they managed to get tangled in the rope we’d used to tie the Christmas tree in the truck.  They were in such a hurry to get away from the skunk that they didn’t take time to get untangled.  Problem was, the skunk was tangled up in the rope with them.

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I was starting to chuckle but I held it in as Bubba continued, “The dogs were trying to get away from the skunk, and it was trying to get away from them, and we were all trying to get away from all of them. 

“Everybody and everything was runnin’, except, of course, for Grandpa.  He was an ornery old fella and wasn’t scared of nothin’ so he stood there hollerin’ ‘Open the blankety blank door, blank it!  Open the door!’

“About that time the dog/skunk knot hit the tree and down they all went in a mess of dogs, skunk, tree, and Christmas decorations.

“I got to the door and yanked it open.

“Now, Grandma and Grandpa were still using Christmas decorations they had bought when they were young and, in those days, Christmas lights were made of colored light bulbs.  Well, as the animals drug the tree with them, the wires were stretched tight and popped out of the plug-in.  They started hitting the floor and furniture and exploding.  They sounded like gun shots.”

Bubba was stifling his own laughter by now.  He continued, “I guess that skunk had been shot at before, because now he unleashed a whole new barrage of skunk scent, and I guess he was scared too because he also chose to, uh, ‘lighten the load.’

“The air was gettin’ thick in that living room, and it wasn’t the smell of a Christmas goose, believe me.

“Grandpa saw that I’d got the door open so he hollered, ‘Git from here you blamed dogs!’

“The hounds knew that the safest course of action is always to obey Grandpa as quickly as possible and to the best of their ability.  The problem was, they hadn’t noticed that I was holding the door open.  Nope, the quickest exit they could see was the window over the couch…the window that wasn’t open.  Not that it mattered a lot, they couldn’t get all the way out of it anyway, not dragging a nice sized Christmas tree and a very angry skunk.

“Trying to figure out what I could do, I looked around and saw Grandpa tearing up somebody’s Christmas present.  I figured all the excitement had pushed poor old Grandpa over the edge and he’d gone crazy…well, crazy-er.  He verified my suspicions when he came up holding a full-sized hunting knife.  I figured somebody was about to die, so you can see why I was relieved when he passed me and stepped over to the window.  He started slashing with the knife.  With a couple cuts the dogs and skunk were released from their bindings and escaped out the window.

“My fears rose once more when Grandpa stepped toward me holding up the knife.  He slid it back into its sheath and handed it to me.  ‘Um, Merry Christmas, Bubba.’”

“I was so relieved and grateful that I didn’t know what to say as I looked at Grandpa.

“I got really confused when I saw his smile turn to a look of irritation.  Luckily he was looking past me, and out the open door.

“I followed his gaze and instantly knew a couple things.  One, Uncle Chuck couldn’t get home quick enough with his tow truck and, two, Uncle Buck had been in such a hurry to get away from the skunk that he hadn’t shut down the tractor when he bailed off and ran.

“Old Poppin’ Johnny was putt-ing slowly over the ridge, still chained to Grandpa’s pickup, and heading directly toward my favorite fishin’ pond…and no one was driving.

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I was gasping for breath as I sat on the tailgate of Bubba’s truck.  “Oh my gosh, Bubba.  Y’all had one heck of a Christmas that year!”

My friend grinned, “Oh yeah, but that was just the day we set up the tree.  Wait until I tell you about Christmas day.  That was when it got REALLY crazy.”

At that point, Harry Blackwell’s PA system announced that my car was done and Bubba said he had to go pick up some parts for a car he was working on, so we promised to get together again soon.

I’m dying to hear how that holiday went from there.

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I’d like to take this opportunity to thank all of my readers for their faithfulness, and to wish each and every one of you a very merry Christmas.

Oh, and I hope none of Bubba J’s relatives visit your house this year.

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