Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Friday, October 11, 2019

To the Hilt


“And what are you going to do there?”
Sally shrugged. “Dunno.”
Mom sighed. “You’re telling me that you and Ruth are dressing up like the Pirates in some ridiculous books. Going to a something-or-other event at the Shrieking Slide Park. And you have no idea what it’s about?!”
Again, Sally shrugged. “I just know it’ll be fun. And, Mom. It’s the Adventure Slide Park.”
“You call it what you want. I’ll call it as I see!”
Perhaps a bit of background. Because those of you who know Sally will definitely understand Mom’s concern.
Cousin Ruth, had just returned from Mars . . . okay, not there, but I have no idea exactly where she was and even less chance of being able to pronounce it . . . and was already eyebrows deep into her next adventure.
This one was local, allowing the participation of the aforementioned Sally.
And just so you know, Cousin Ruth always invited me as well.
I just have too much sense to go. Ahem . . .
Sooo . . . invitation. Pirates.
Adventure Slide Park.
Cousin Ruth was on her way to pick up my sister. The two of them, if Sally was any indicator, were dressing to the hilt (I use this word purposely because Sally had a bona fide sword at her side.) for some ‘awesome pirate-y event’—I’m quoting her, of course.
Details of exactly what they were going to do at this APE (see above) were sparse and really rather iffy.
And Mom was torn between having a quiet afternoon with the distinct chance of storms later or keeping Sally home and giving up her afternoon all together.
A tough choice.
I sympathized. Again, those of you who know Sally . . .
A car slowed outside and we heard the distinct sound of the undercarriage scraping the curb as the driver pulled into our driveway.
“She’s here! She’s here!” Sally bounced up and down, then headed for the front door.
Before she could open it, however, all three of us heard something strike it from the outside.
Solidly.
Mom put a hand on Sally’s shoulder, holding her back as she reached for the knob.
Swinging the door wide, both she and I gasped.
A gleaming cutlass was buried, point-deep, in the heavy wood. A cutlass still quivering from the force of whoever had put it there.
“Ha!” someone outside shouted rather triumphantly.
Mom peered out cautiously, then she took a deep breath and I saw her chin jut out.
Uh-oh.
“Ruth, you idiot! You could have killed someone!”
“Pffff!” Ruth’s voice. “Stay out of the way of the door!”
“But this is MY DOOR!!!” Mom’s voice rose. A lot.
“Is Sally ready?”
“Ahhhh!” Mom jerked the cutlass from the door and charged outside, weapon raised. Sally and I followed as fast as we could. I really don’t know what would have happened if at that precise moment, a car hadn’t backfired.
Loudly.
It sounded like a pistol shot.
Mom gasped and stopped, her head snapping around toward the street.
Of course, it was Mort, Sally’s beau, arriving in his centuries-old but still trusty and now yellow-painted Volvo. He fell (rather than stepped) out of the front seat, long legs tangling in his own sword and sashes. Forcing a cheap pirate’s hat over his unruly head of hair, he grinned and saluted with, of all things, a sausage. “Ready, me hearties?”
Mom put a hand over her mouth as her gaze went from eye-patched and resplendent Ruth, to Mort and back again. Finally, she threw the cutlass down on the grass as Ruth’s booted feet. “You owe me a new door,” she muttered.
“Sure you don’t want to come?” At this point I figured, quite rightly, that Cousin Ruth was the bravest--or most foolhardy--person I had ever met.
Mom spun around and pinned her with a glare. Eschewing an answer, she lifted her chin. “If anyone wants me, I’ll be hiding under my bed.”
I looked at Cousin Ruth and her two companions. "Erm . . . have fun?"

Each month Karen's Bloggers participate in a word challenge. All of us submit words to our intrepid leader, and each month she shuffles and re-distributes. The result is Use Your Words.
And it's totally fun!
This month, my words: books ~ pirate ~ slide ~ yellow ~ sausage, came (via Karen) from my uber-awesome friend Rena at https://wanderingwebdesigner.com/blog

Here are the Links to the other “Use Your Words” posts:
Baking In A Tornado https://www.bakinginatornado.com
Wandering Web Designer https://wanderingwebdesigner.com/blog
Spatulas on Parade https://spatulasonparade.blogspot.com
Follow Me Home https://followmehome.shellybean.com
Climaxed https://climaxedtheblog.blogspot.com
Part-time Working Hockey Mom https://thethreegerbers.blogspot.ch/

10 comments:

  1. Poor mom! I don't know how she survives Sally and her crazy adventures! She probably has to hide a bottle of whiskey in her knickers drawer! (Rena)

    ReplyDelete
  2. I'm on the edge of my seat, can't wait to hear what happens on this adventure. I'm guessing someone walks the plank?

    ReplyDelete
  3. I would almost HAVE to follow, if I were mom! Sally and Ruth can certainly find adventures! Can't wait to read what happens next. I mean, with a real sword and cutlass, can anything go right?

    ReplyDelete
  4. Hmmm . . . it would seem that cousin Ruth and sister Sally share some of the same "adventure" genes . . .

    ReplyDelete
  5. Ruth and Sally the daring duo! Sounds like an interesting time.

    ReplyDelete
  6. I do hope that mama was herself a Sally at some point. It would be poetic justice if she was, rather than torment.
    Says someone who wishes she was Sally. Then and now.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Have Ruth and Sally as her children would be challenging!

    ReplyDelete
  8. The thought of Sally opening that door a second sooner has me quite scared.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Okay...there has to be a follow up to this because just like 'Mom' I feel a disaster looming on the horizon.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Thank heaven my kids don't have an Aunt Ruth, i think i'd have lost it long ago!

    ReplyDelete

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