The Wounded Buzzard on Christmas Eve by John R. Erickson

Author:John R. Erickson
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Humor, cowdog, Hank the Cowdog, John R. Erickson, John Erickson, ranching, Texas, dog, adventure, mystery, Hank, Drover, Pete, Sally May
Publisher: Maverick Books, Inc.
Published: 2015-05-08T21:30:23+00:00

“Well,” he sighed, “broke again. I sure hope Miss Viola likes her galoshes.”

Behind us, Leonard locked the door, drew the blinds, and turned off the light.

Chapter Eight: Drover Snaps at Snowflakes

We made our way back down Main Street. Now and then we caught the sound of Christmas music coming out of the stores we passed. Ahead of us, wisps of snow swirled along the sidewalk.

Little Alfred began tugging on Slim’s pantleg. “Swim, I want to see the Santie Cwaus pawade.”

“Huh? Oh yeah, I almost forgot the parade. No, we wouldn’t want to miss that, would we? Although . . . son, didn’t you see Santie Claus last year?” The boy nodded. “Well, it’s about the same every year. You might rather go home, what do you think?”

“I want to see the pawade.”

“Sure you do, but you look kind of tired and wore out, all this walkin’ around and shoppin’ and stuff, and we could sure put it off until next year.”

“I want to see the pawade.”

“You ain’t tired?”

“No.”

“You ain’t cold?”

“No.”

“You ain’t hungry?”

Alfred’s eyes brightened. “Can we get a hamboogoo?”

“I’m broke, son, been picked as clean as a goose. But I’ll bet your momma has a big pot of stew on the stove back home.”

He shook his head. “I want to see the pawade.”

“You want to see the parade. Well, in that case I guess we’d better stay and see the parade. On my tombstone they’re gonna put, ‘Slim never could hold on to a dollar bill, but he was always nice to dogs and children.’ What time you reckon this parade is liable to start?”

Little Alfred shrugged. “Fifteen o’clock, I think.”

Slim smiled at that. Then his glance fell on the store in front of which we were standing, and his eyes brightened. “My, my, lookie where we are. Tell you what let’s do, fellers. I’ll run in here for a second and ask about that parade. Button, you take the dogs and wait for me at the pickup.”

“Okay, Swim, but huhwee up.”

“Oh, I won’t be long. Y’all be good and stay out of mischief, hear? See you in a few minutes.”

And with that, he walked into the store. When he opened the door we heard the sounds of men’s voices, followed by a loud CRACK. The sign on the front window of the store said, “Pool Hall.”

“What’s a pool hall?” Drover asked.

“It’s a big hall with a pool at one end.”

“A pool of what?”

“Water, of course. What else would you find in a pool?”

“I don’t know. You think he’s going to swim?”

“Well, I sure hope he swims. If he doesn’t, he’s liable to drown. Those pools can be pretty deep.”

“Gosh, I wouldn’t want to go swimming in this cold weather.”

“That’s good, Drover, because nobody invited you to swim. You were invited to stay at the pickup.”

“That’s fine with me. I hate water anyway, especially in the winter.”

We left the front of the swimming pool and wandered on down the street. Slim’s pickup was parked at the curb a short ways down.

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