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<\/p>\nSummary: Caught in a mudslide, Little Joe\u2019s survival might just depend on\u00a0a lacy handkerchief.<\/p>\n
Written for the 2018 Ponderosa Paddlewheel Poker Tournament.\u00a0 TOURNAMENT WINNER (TIE)
\nThe card \u201csuits\u201d were:<\/p>\n
Anatomy (body parts)
\nFears
\nWhat Women Want
\nThings Found in a Saddlebag<\/p>\n
Rated:\u00a0\u00a0 K+\u00a0 1,675 words<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The Handkerchief<\/strong><\/p>\n It’s funny the things you can find to think about when you don\u2019t want to face the things you need<\/em> to think about, when what you really\u00a0need to think about scares you so much you would do anything to be able to pretend it isn’t real.<\/p>\n I’m thinking about dancing. I imagine myself twirling around the floor with a pretty gal. She’s got blond hair, blue eyes, and the kind of smile that wipes clean all the bad in the world, the kind of smile that rights every wrong and can almost make me forget I’m in the middle of the worst day of my life.<\/p>\n As much as I love to think about her, I can’t afford to. I don’t dare forget what’s real. Truth is, I’m a long way from any dance floor. I wish I could forget I’m stuck to the side of a mountain. I\u2019m no closer to the bottom than I am to the top, and I\u2019ve got nothing to cling to but the thick plaster of mud and sticks that brought me here. I\u2019ve got my fingers dug in so deep my nails are probably ripped to shreds. I\u2019m sure the red I\u2019m seeing mixed in with the mud is my own blood. But I\u2019m too dang scared to feel any pain.<\/p>\n It could almost be funny. There’s not much in this world that frightens me enough to back down or back away, or to wish myself onto a dance floor where I can be rescued by a blond, blue-eyed angel. But clinging to the side of a mountain rather than standing safe and sound at the bottom,\u00a0or even on\u00a0top of it, that’s something that scares the heck out of me. And the possibility that I could get buried alive? Well, that scares me so bad I made my whole family promise they would put a bell in my grave whenever the time comes, just in case it’s not really my time at all and the doc makes a horrible mistake in saying I’m dead.<\/p>\n Yep. I\u2019m afraid of heights and I\u2019m afraid of getting buried alive. Those are the two things in this world that can give me nightmares in broad daylight. And here I am facing both at the same time. If I ever get out of this mess, I sure hope I can laugh about it. But I’m not laughing now.<\/p>\n I almost laughed when I reached into Adam\u2019s saddlebag and pulled out a lacy handkerchief instead of the ammunition he\u2019d sent me to get, even thinking how that dang puma must be laughing at us<\/em> plodding through the mud behind it and wasting bullets as it scampers away.\u00a0I might have laughed at that handkerchief, but I didn\u2019t get the chance. I\u2019d\u00a0barely had enough time to notice the initials \u2018ALJ\u2019\u00a0sewn in fancy script when the ledge above me collapsed. A wall of mud knocked me off my feet and carried me down the mountain along with it and every stick, stone, and rock it could grab along the way. I wasn\u2019t even close to the edge when that wall hit me; I would never have agreed to set up camp on the rim of a cliff, and Adam would never have suggested it. But the force was so strong it didn\u2019t matter.<\/p>\n I sure am glad Adam took the horses to the stream before that ledge came down. If he hadn\u2019t, the horses would have been lost, and Adam wouldn\u2019t have fared much better than me. Not even Hoss would have been able to hold his ground against that wall.<\/p>\n I got pushed and pulled along like I was a twig in a river at flood. But this was worse than any river. The way that mud started clogging my nose and getting into my mouth, I was sure I was gonna drown in it.\u00a0Even after I stopped slipping and sliding and rolling down, I wasn\u2019t sure I\u2019d ever get a chance to fill my lungs with anything but mud. It took a lot of coughing and blowing before I could pull in enough air to clear my fuzzy thinking. And then what\u2019s the first thing I think about? A lacy handkerchief and the woman behind the initials \u2018ALJ.\u2019<\/p>\n Annabel Johansson, maybe. I don\u2019t think I ever heard anyone mention her middle name. She\u2019s about Adam\u2019s age. But I don\u2019t remember noticing her noticing him. Or ALJ could be Angelique Jolicoeur. She\u2019s a high society type with a nose that\u2019s as sharp as her tongue. Somehow, I can\u2019t picture her carrying lace; or if she did, it would have a razor edge to it. It\u2019s easier to think it might be someone new in town, like a blond, blue-eyed angel.<\/p>\n I feel myself slipping again. It ain\u2019t no good me thinking about anything other than this dang mountain. I need to concentrate on climbing.<\/p>\n But\u2026I\u2019m not as far down as I was. Huh. Must\u2019ve made more headway than I thought possible. Maybe thinking about that angel ain\u2019t such a bad thing. Maybe if I keep thinking about dancing . . . maybe I stand a chance. Maybe if I just keep trying, keep digging in and pulling myself higher than all this mud keeps pushing me down\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0. Maybe, just maybe\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0.<\/p>\n There I go slipping again. I\u2019m so dang tired, and the top is still so far overhead. Maybe I should just let go. Let the mud take me. Maybe it\u2019ll be so fast I won\u2019t even know I\u2019m getting buried alive in a mountain of mud or falling to the rocks below.<\/p>\n Is that music? That angel\u2019s reaching out her hand, inviting me to take her for another spin around the floor. Her smile looks like a sunrise. I can\u2019t help but reach for her. Why does she keep backing away? I keep reaching, keep getting closer and closer, but I can\u2019t get close enough. I can\u2019t quite catch her fingers.<\/p>\n \u201cCome on, Joe!\u201d<\/p>\n I\u2019m trying. Really, I am.<\/p>\n \u201cJust a little further.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam? Is that you? I\u2019m sorry I danced with your girl. But I had to, don\u2019t you see? She\u2019s an angel.<\/p>\n I\u2019m holding her now. Or maybe she\u2019s holding me. My arms are so tired and my fingers are so stiff I don\u2019t think I could hold a feather. But I feel strong hands wrapped in mine and pulling me higher. And now, strong arms are enfolding me.<\/p>\n Strong?<\/p>\n I blink the mud out of my eyes. Blond hair turns black; blue eyes turn brown.\u00a0I see my brother smiling at me.<\/p>\n How the heck did he get me out of all that mud and back to level ground? I guess it doesn\u2019t matter, as long as he\u2019s got me. I\u2019m safe. I\u2019m not gonna get buried alive today, and I ain\u2019t gonna become a mangled mess at the bottom of the mountain.<\/p>\n Maybe the angel helped.<\/p>\n \u201cAdam?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou did good, Joe. Real good. You almost made it all the way back up here without any help. And I thought you were more afraid of heights than me!\u201d Adam\u2019s laugh sounds anxious. It\u2019s a worried sort of laugh, the kind that comes from nervous energy. It\u2019s not at all like the laugh I would\u2019ve had over that handkerchief if I\u2019d had the chance.<\/p>\n \u201cWho is she?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d\u00a0Look at the way he\u2019s looking at me as he sets me down on the ground.\u00a0I bet he thinks I hit my head. Maybe I did. I might as well have; I think I hit just about everything else on the way down.\u00a0Whatever I hit or didn\u2019t hit, that puzzled look of his makes me want to laugh again.<\/p>\n Laughing seems like too much effort; but at least\u00a0I can still get some words out. \u201cWho\u2019s ALJ?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cALJ?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe handkerchief.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat handkerchief?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLacy handkerchief. In your saddlebag.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMy\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n I see it then, confusion shifting into understanding. Adam\u2019s jaw tightens. His lips go thin. \u201cAbigail.\u201d He lets out a big old frustrated sigh. \u201cThat woman doesn\u2019t know how to take no for answer. She just won\u2019t let go.\u201d<\/p>\n Part of me feels sick to my stomach to think of Miss Abigail Jones as my blond, blue-eyed angel. But another part of me is content to admit my old school teacher never would let me get away with quitting. And if she\u2019s responsible for not letting go today, then I\u2019ve got an awful lot to thank her for.<\/p>\n I reckon I did hit my head. And by tomorrow I\u2019m probably gonna feel like I got run over by a herd of wild mustangs. But right now I\u2019m covered from my hair to my boots in mud and lying on the ground looking up at my brother, who\u2019s about half as muddy as I am, and I can\u2019t help but see the humor in it all. I can even imagine Miss Abigail Jones standing over Adam\u2019s shoulder and pinching the blackened, muddy remains of her lacy handkerchief between finger and thumb in disgust.<\/p>\n It may be a good thing that handkerchief is lost somewhere in all that mud; but if it weren\u2019t, I reckon I wouldn\u2019t mind handing it back to her, mud and all, and telling her the story of how it may just have saved my life.<\/p>\n From somewhere deep inside me, I feel a laugh bubbling out. Adam\u2019s got that puzzled look again, but only for a second or two. Now the worry is easing out of him. I can even see the start of a grin.<\/p>\n I wonder if he\u2019ll still be grinning after I tell him how glad I am that Miss Abigail Jones slipped him her lacy\u00a0handkerchief.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n ~~The End~~<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n The Poker words\/phrases dealt to me were:<\/p>\n Fear of being buried alive Summary: Caught in a mudslide, Little Joe\u2019s survival might just depend on\u00a0a lacy handkerchief.<\/p>\n Written for the 2018 Ponderosa Paddlewheel Poker Tournament.\u00a0 <\/p>\n Rated:\u00a0\u00a0 K+\u00a0 1,675 words<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":22,"featured_media":17834,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"template-full-width-post.php","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"The Handkerchief","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_members_access_role":[],"_members_access_error":""},"categories":[40],"tags":[158],"class_list":["post-17840","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-challenges","tag-pppt","wpcat-40-id"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/08\/PPPT-pic.png?fit=588%2C325&ssl=1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17840","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/22"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=17840"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17840\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/17834"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=17840"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=17840"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=17840"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nFear of heights
\nAmmunition
\nLacy Handkerchief
\n(Joker)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"