Charlie

Them ole’ weeds was higher than I was… Thick too.  Couldn’t see through ’em.  So I’d just mosey on through, didn’t matter.  No tellin’ what I’d come up on.  That little field was behind my house in Richmond Indiana, ….but you couldn’t tell me that!  Cuz to me it was the jungles of Viet Nam!  At least it was when them weeds was taller than I was….  Charlie was out there, coming to kill me….  Ka-thump!  Grenade would land next to me and I’d hit the deck if it was too far away to jump on and save everybody else, though everybody else really weren’t there – only in my mind…  But I’d save ’em anyhow….  If I could.  Cuz that’s how I roll…..  Rat-a-tat-a-tat-a-tat….  Ole’ Charlie trying to kill my whole platoon with machine guns…  Though there weren’t really no platoon, I just made that up….  But you’d a thought there was a platoon cuz they’d be talking and doing hand signals, real quite-like, to sneak up on Charlie and kill ’em all….  Mortars coming in, whistlin’ like a Devil!  Hit the deck!  Hit the deck!

A week later Mom’d have me covered in that ole’ pink cal-o-mine lotion… itchin’, poison assed ivy….  Damn that Charlie….

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© 2015 John Allen Richter
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