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44


COUNTRY LIFE IN BC • JUNE 2018 Kenneth has another go at the Massey When we left off last month,


Kenneth had mostly recovered from his first encounter operating the Massey 285. When his mother called reminding him about the get- away she had planned for


Chronicles by BOB COLLINS


Deborah and him, he realized he had to do some damage control after his outburst to he. With an apology strategized, he celebrated with another belt of Scotch and headed out to put the 285 through its paces again. Rural Redemption, part 99, continues ... Deborah walked up the


narrow road that wound through the trees to the rock bluff near the back line of their property. Kenneth’s outburst played itself over and over in her head: “Just stop talking!” Duchess crossed back and forth in front of her, scuttling through the undergrowth. The rain had stopped but there were still drops falling from every branch. She circled around to the top of the bluff, but the


mountain was hidden by the clouds and there was nowhere dry enough to sit down.


Woodshed


She came to the old skid trail that ran behind the bluff from Newt’s property line to the main road. She turned and followed it gently downhill toward Newt’s. Footprints in the mud around a shallow puddle meant Newt and Rocky must still


be walking this way to the store from time to time. It was the first time Deborah had been this way since they nailed No Trespassing signs on every post of the perimeter fence the first time they came here. She was embarrassed to think about it now. As she neared Newt’s


property line, her eye was caught by a metallic gleam among the trees on her left. Something silver. She waded toward it through hip deep salal. Her pants were quickly soaked. Forty feet in there was a car, long abandoned and nearly invisible under a blanket of needles, cones, and moss. She could make out the Chevrolet emblem on the nose of the hood and a strip


on the side that said Fleetline. The flash that caught her eye was a small mirror on the driver’s door. It swivelled in her grasp and the image of her own face startled her. Frightful, she thought, touching her fingertips to her puffy eyes. Who is this? Is this who the world sees when it looks at me? What can anyone really know about me from looking at this? It still looks like what used to be me but I’m not that me anymore. Surely, he must know that. What does he really know about me? No more probably than I know about this car. And what do I really know of him? Just stop talking? It’s like two strangers living together and reminding each other of someone they used to know. What does anyone really know about anyone else? All I know is how they make me feel, and Kenneth makes me feel like this: incomplete and miserable, too cold and dark for love. Without realizing it, Deborah had been thinking out loud and was oblivious to her surroundings.


Duchess cringed against her leg and growled. There was an answering fury of barking from the skid trail.


OKANAGAN 4-H STOCK SHOW BEEF HORSE


PRIME GRAIN-FED STEER SALE SATURDAY, JULY 7, 10:15am


ARMSTRONG FAIRGROUNDS


Five workshops 1. Clean as a whistle 2. Show your stuff


3. Beef it up – judging 101 4. Fit as a fiddle 5. Finale fitting


Schedule of Events


Beef Division Tuesday July 3 Move in / Weigh in (Beef)


Wednesday July 4


9am Instructional Day (Beef) 330pm Judging (Beef, Horse)


5pm Opening ceremonies 7pm Opening Ceremonies


Thursday July 5


Thursday July 5 9am Beef Team & Individual Fitting classes 1pm Beef Heifer & Cow/Calf Heifer Group Classes


9am Beef Team & Individual Fitting classes 1pm Beef Heifer & Cow/Calf, Heifer Group Classes 5pm Judging Competition


Friday July 6 8:30am Market Sale Steer/Open 4-H Steer, Steer Group Classes 1pm Showmanship 6pm Awards Banquet (Tickets: Jennifer Hurren 250.550.4662)


Saturday July 7 8am Buyers, Breakfast 10am Parade of Champions 10:15am Beef Sale


Trudy Schweb horseygal@telus.net | Brad Case 250.517.9561


Don’t forget to renew your subscription!


“Who’s there? called Deborah.


“Newton Pullman and


Rocky the wonder dog. Is that you, Deborah?” “Yes, I’m here. There’s an old car in the bushes.” “Ah, you’ve found Tiny’s old


Chevrolet. He bought it brand new in 1946 when he was 17 years old. “How could he afford to?” “Tiny was a bit too young


for the army but his uncle Sven and his Uncle Magnus were fallers and they took him off to the Charlottes to make war on the Sitka spruce trees when he turned 14. He came home three years later with more muscles than he knew what to do with and enough money to pay cash for a two- tone coupe. According to Gladdie, every available young woman for miles around had their eyes on him, and some who weren’t available, too!” “And did he fall for


anyone?” “Nope, Tiny did all his falling in the timber. Three years in the bush with Magnus and Sven turned him into a hell of a faller but he was as shy as a mouse in a barn full of cats when it came to women. He married the Widow Petersen when he was in his 40s, but she asked him and wouldn’t take no for an answer.” “How did the car end up


here?” “Tiny lost his license after he got hurt in ‘53. His mother was pushing him hard to sell it but Tiny couldn’t let it go. He hid it out here and told his mother it was sold. She never knew any different. He always said he was going to haul it back and get it going again but nothing ever came of it. It reminded him of better times in the past and sort of gave him hope for better times to come, I guess. And there’s something to be said for both of those things.” Deborah stood


contemplating the old car – how it was a perfect fulcrum for what had been and what Tiny hoped it might be. Love could be that fulcrum but only if there was hope of something better. They heard the tractor start


back down at the barn. “Sounds like someone’s


having another go at the sawdust,” said Newt. Before Deborah could reply, the tractor was


drowned out by sounds of splintering wood. The exhaust grew suddenly louder then ceased altogether. They could hear frantic cries for help. They sprinted down the


road from the bluff to the barn.


Deborah wondered if it might be Christopher but Newt said probably not because Lisa was at his place helping him halter-break his 4-H heifer. They arrived to find one


bay of the barn roof collapsed onto the Massey Ferguson 285. Kenneth Henderson was yelling for help from under the smashed framing and twisted tin.


Newt told Deborah to call 911, then quickly sized up the damage and slipped past the left hand rear wheel into the barn. Three posts were broken and the doorway beam had been wiped out. The fallen section of roof was sitting on the top of the roll- over bar at one end and on the loader bucket at the other. Kenneth was sitting on the tractor with the rafters around his ears. The engine was stalled and the muffler was canted sideways, which accounted for the loud roaring they’d heard. Newt touched Kenneth’s


leg.


“I’m here, Kenny. Can you hear me?” “Of course I can bloody


hear you! Don’t call me Kenny!” “Sorry. Can you feel your arms and legs, Kenneth?” “Yes! Can’t you see the


barn roof’s fallen in?” “I did notice that, yes.” “Well, get it off me,


dammit.” “First things first; are you pinned anywhere?” “The roof has fallen in, what do you think? Do something.” Newt surveyed Kenneth Henderson from every available angle. He didn’t appear to be injured or trapped. In fact, it didn’t look as though any part of the roof was touching him at all. His nice new Field and Furrow Used Farm Equipment ball cap was still sitting unscathed on the top of his head. “What’s taking you so


long?” demanded Kenneth. “Better safe than sorry, Kenneth. There’s help on the way so for now I think we just keep you calm and still. How does that sound?” “It sounds totally stupid!” “Well, I don’t suppose it’s going to be the only stupid thing in your day, but I think we’re better safe than sorry, so you should just sit tight until help arrives. “ “I can hear sirens,” called Deborah.


... To be continued


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