The World's Strongest Librarian by Josh Hanagarne

Author:Josh Hanagarne [Hanagarne, Josh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781101621776
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2013-05-01T16:00:00+00:00

Janette grew up in Sunset, twenty-five miles north of Salt Lake City. She was tense by the time we got to Wendover, the midpoint between Salt Lake and Elko. By the time we got to Salt Lake she was grinding her teeth.

“I need to tell you some stuff about my dad. He goes to these mountain man rendezvous ever year,” she said. “He’ll probably introduce himself to you as Flintstriker, which is his mountain man name.” From what she said, his mountain man experience was limited to Boy Scout Jamborees; he’d been serving in Boy Scouts for most of his adult life. Every year he’d go to a Jamboree—a gigantic campout with scouts from the region—and wear his leathers and fire his black powder rifle.

“We don’t call him Flintstriker,” she said. “And he shoots his rifle in the middle of the night on New Year’s. He’ll tell you everything he’s doing in church right now. He’ll probably mow the lawn at five in the morning tomorrow. Our backyard’s always covered with deer hides that he’s tanning. And he goes to DI”—Deseret Industries thrift stores—“and buys snowmobile parts and then puts them in the backyard and they just sit there forever. Drives my mom nuts. And…” She looked to see if I was reaching for the door handle, but I couldn’t wait to meet him. Would he greet us in a coonskin cap? Would he demand that we leg wrestle on the lawn? Would he give me some manly test to prove that he was superior to me, like asking me to locate the spark plugs in his car?

When she pulled into the driveway, the front door opened and John Watts stepped out. You can tell that some people are friendly from a block away. He was about five-ten with the roundest belly I’d ever seen. Suspenders pulled dark green pants up over the belly to meet a maroon T-shirt. He shook my hand and squeezed hard. “Welcome!”

Five minutes later I threw a tomahawk; it twirled end over end, and struck the “throwing stump” with its handle, which then splintered. John nodded. “Not bad.” Then he threw his own hawk, which missed the stump and clattered against the fence. And, yes, stretched across the fence was a deer hide that he’d tanned himself. I retrieved our axes and returned to the throwing line.

I was delighted to be at Janette’s parents’ home, throwing pieces of metal at a piece of wood with a man who indeed called himself Flintstriker. He even showed me a wooden box with his mountain man name scrimshawed into its lid. I hadn’t had a chance to say one word about myself. John jabbered on about everything while Janette caught up with her mom, Linda. Linda looked exactly like what you’d picture if I told you that she was sixty-five years old, with glasses and white hair, and looked really nice. She laughed after everything anyone said, including herself.

After her parents went to bed, Janette showed me my room.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.