BONES TWO

Jeepers creeps if my hairy old ass ain’t itchin right now. Makes ya wonder if the cheap toilet paper I buy is doing it’s job, ehh. Could be the scortchin hot sauce that I had on my burrito last night is burning twice ya know. Or it could be bloody hemorrhoids. Who knows? Shit, ya can’t very well bend over and take a gander at your own bung hole, ya know, to diagnose the problem.

Other then that I feel like I must be walking with wood, short legged gimp and all. That weekly routine of getting to come home for the weekend is some good shit and sure makes the whole world look a little rosier, ehh. Thank God for my sweetie!

Those guys a mine on Norris’ Nightmare have been doing well. I’ll run the bench for a game tonight - just gotta control my temper over bad calls. Hockey officials can just drive me nuts - guess that’s why we pay em. I couldn’t ever do officiating myself cuz I just end up getting to fucking biased. And I tend to cuss back when I get cussed at.

To get on with the business at hand, I’m sure that just a shit load a ya readers want to know what’s up with them bones that I figure Tidwilly dug up out a my basement excavation, ehh.

There’s some more to this that I gotta fill ya in on then.

After me and Stinky had spotted those various bones in our dirt pile, I believe I told ya that we kinda looked around for some more of them down there in the dark. We didn’t come across anything on our first examination. I called the authorities and the sheriff came out with the county coroner. We don’t have no CSI types around here and Jonathon Flagg, one of the vets in the area, has been assigned the job as coroner.

I had coached him in youth hockey bantams and midgets. Was sort of a solid kid but spoiled rotten cuz his dad was a rich-ass surgeon or something down in the cities. Didn’t stick to the game though, figure that he had too many other things on his plate. I remember that he had a nice looking older sister back then with big old perky tits. Seems as I recall that she tried to hit on me at a club picnic once - telling me she was eighteen already. Wasn’t buying that crap - jail bait is jail time. Nasty! ……. Nasty all the way to the bank!

So the sheriff and Flagg snag up that skull and the other bones and poked around a bit. Quizzed me only, cuz Stinky had split and the honey was off to the Food Fair. Didn’t mention to them that Stinky’d been helping me dig and didn’t mention that I hadn’t actually dug up the bones myself. Wasn’t about to tell them that I thought Tidwilly and the Wanker boys had actually pulled em outta the ground. Don’t need those delinky dead beats stirring up shit with me later. I wouldn’t put it past them to take pot shots at me or the honey or trying to fuck up any of my hockey buds in retribution.

They said that they’d file the legal reports and crap and would come back in couple of days to give me a copy. I signed their forms and asked em if they had any ideas.
Flagg didn’t say shit. He just had this damn pained-ass look on his face like he was armpit deep inside some cow’s uterus trying to turn a breech or something. Never could understand why anybody would want to be a vet for the farming biz.

But the sheriff scratched his balding head and asked, “Wheats, how long ya lived out here?”
I told him that I’d only bought the place a couple a years ago. The property had been Sven Petersen’s and his kid had had it sub-divided into 20 acre parcels. This one he had built the cabin on intending to live up here during the fall and winter for a hunting and ice fishing resort sorta place. I guess his job had become a bit more enticing and had actually moved on down to Argentina. He put all the parcels up for sale through an agent over in Pudnap and that’s how I’d come to own the place.

The sheriff goes, “Uh huh. Petersen, ehh? Would that be Hank or the younger one Oscar?”
I told him that it had been Oscar.

“Oscar, ehh?” He looked back at the cabin and spat some chew over that direction. “Did Oscar ever come out to sign papers or anything? Did ya get to see him back then?”

“Nah, his agent handled all the shit.”

“Alright then. Me and Flagg are heading back to town but I’ll get back with ya in couple a days.”
I told him that I’d be outta town and that I’d appreciate it if he’d hold off until next weekend. Didn’t want him dealin with the honey. Or he could call me on my cell phone to fill me in. I gave him the number.

I figured that was enough excitement for the day and headed back down to do some more digging. Regardless of the bones I wanted to get this basement done. There was still so much more to do and I want to get it closed off to the dirt before full-on winter sets in. That way I’ll be able to do the finish work through the season. Damn, its gonna be just a fine place to hang out and have some good times with the guys!

So I worked at it without Stinky’s help until around 5:00 pm. He said that he’d come by on Sunday afternoon to help out which was fine with me.

After digging and hauling dirt out for around five hours I got cleaned up and headed over to the rink for the Nightmare’s game. The guys put one away for me winning 5 to 2 over the Red River Roundheads. Nice!

After the game we went down to the pub and closed the place as usual. Must a been raining during the whole time cuz the road was a real mess when I was heading home. Sure glad it wasn’t snow yet. Wouldn’t been able to get home if it had been, figurin the way it was coming down.

Rained all night long and must of let up sometime in the morning. That is such a sweet sound in the cabin - heavy rain muffled by the log structure.

We slept in ‘til around noon and just had my first mug a coffee and some toast by the time Stinky showed. Had him come in for some coffee and to fill him in on the sheriff’s visit before we went at the digging again.

Afterwards we headed around back where the cut in was for the outside entrance to the basement.

Aw fuck!

The whole damn place was flooded. Stinky gave it a quick look and said he’d go get a gasoline powered pump that he had in the yard.

“We’ll have it emptied out in no time, Jasper.”

While he was gone I grabbed an old Sherwood and probed the depths with it. Damn if it wasn’t about four feet deep down there. It must-a really rained, ehh?

Shit! I thought I had this figured out so that the drainage would flow away from the cabin. What was the deal with this?

Then I noticed that our diggings were piled right over the gully on the west side and about six or seven acres of drainage had been diverted right into the basement. I had planned to spread this over a low area off to the north side of the drive but hadn’t done it yet.

While Stinky was gone I rigged up the snow plow on my little Ford tractor and started moving the pile and spreading the dirt over where I wanted it.

Mr. Stinky Duvall got back with the pump and we fired it up and drank some more coffee with ham and cheese sandwiches while it did its job.

Then we got back at it but what a sloppy mess that was. Every step we took sounded like someone was plunging a backed up toidy. And oh gosh was that mud heavy and all clingin to our shovels and boots. Both of us were trying to size out the far corners. Yup - that’s how far along we are. And then we close off the middle, dig the edge footings, rough in the plumbing, pour the slab and footings, and start standing the block for the walls. Yes sirree! We’ve come a long ways.

As I’m running out a wheelbarrow full of good north woods earth the wheel dug in and tipped the load sideways at the future doorway. Besides dumping the load, the side of the wheelbarrow caused the wall alongside a the entrance to cave a bit into the undercut that was caused by the runoff into the basement.

And there, just barely visible in the dimmed light was another skull almost glowing compared to the blackness of the wet dirt. I called Stinky over and we both looked at it not daring to remove it from the earthen wall.

“Jasper, that one’s a lot smaller then the first one. And I think there’s a hole that ain’t ‘sposed to be there.”

I grabbed one of our lights and moved up closer for a better examination. Shitski, shmitski!
Damn, it must be a kid’s skull and there was an extra opening that wasn’t supposed to be there, as far as I knew, anyway.

“I better call the sheriff again. You going to stick around? I guess we’re done for the day again. Ya think that‘s a damn bullet hole, ehh?”

Stinky agreed but said that he’d better scoot. Didn’t want to be around for the sheriff again - got his reasons.

Later on the sheriff and a couple of his deputies showed up with shovels, plastic bags and other paraphernalia that I’d never seen before. They put up some yellow police investigation tape and said that my basement was off limits until they can figure out what the hell was going on - looked like a crime scene now. Sort of hinted that it might have something to do with the Petersen clan.

I’m just going to have to wait to find out what the deal is with these two skulls and the assortment of bones that have been unearthed. And it looks like the basement is going to be delayed for a while.

But I’ve got hockey. Damn glad that it’s my season right now. Damn glad for my LA Kings. If ya look at today’s standings for the Pacific Division you’ll see them tied for last place with only fourteen points. Hah! But you’ll also notice that all five teams in the division only have seven wins. And between all five of them, they have lost either seven or eight games each. Anaheim’s listed in first place but has three more points then the Kings due to overtime losses only. That means that the Kings have three games in hand. To me, that’s three opportunities to pull ahead of the whole pack a losers, ehh.

That’s why, never-no-mind about the delay of the basement and the issue with the skulls and bones that were found there that I’m still a damn happy camper.

So you guys gotta hang with me ehh? Maybe you’re local skate shop will have a sale on some decent wooden Sherwoods or maybe your teams will win a couple in a row. No point in gettin all fussed up over things ya can’t control, ehh.

Just remember that ya gotta skate hard and walk with wood every chance ya get.