July
Cimarron
I looked out over the mountain path that I was on. I was there, southern
Colorado was before me. The first time I saw that I was fifteen and on a
Philmont track. Sixty-five miles in twelve days and in a circle. I was
with my scouting troop back then hiking those sixty-five miles. So the
conversations held there were less than stellar. It was almost always about
sex. I would have added my two cents on the subject but my mother decided
it would be fun to join me on this little twelve-day hike. So I was
rendered mute on the subject. That limited my conversational abilities for
the sixteen days I was in New Mexico. I felt like a monk.
Our sister crew was from Texas. That was nothing special. Everyone had a
sister crew from Texas. Since Texas was about spitting distance from
Philmont. Our contact with this crew was minimal. We crossed paths with
them a couple of times. And one of our adult leaders filled with Yankee
pride, and cocky as hell because he took two years of judo, tried to pick a
fight with one of the men in our sister crew that was his age, but twice his
size.
Fortunatly Cooler heads prevailed and the leader in my crew was dragged
kicking and screaming from the scene. Of course I still get a smile when I
think of him calling that large man �Little Miss God Bless Texas.�
One of the good ol� boys in that crew took particular offence to the name
calling. And decided to take some of the hallucinogens, that he used to get
an undesirable member of his crew removed from his trek, and spiked one of
the canteens of one of my crew members. I�m pretty sure he ment it for the
adult leader that did the name calling.
He missed. It was late at night and I had to make an emergency call into
the woods. Before I went back to sleep I took a drink from my canteen. I�m
telling you. That was the most adamant argument I ever had with a tree.
Turns out that the hallucinogen was in my canteen.
As I was discussing pro-wrestling with a tree I heard a guitar rift. It was
an unmistakable Jimmy Hendix rift. I looked around and saw all the trees
looking in one direction. I went in that direction. I walked for what
seemed like forever. Till finally I looked over the crowds from the stage
that I stood on. I looked to my left and saw Jimmy Hendrix playing the
guitar. And I realized that I had made it to Woodstock. An event that
happened a whole eleven years before I was born.
I look over at the crowd and they all cheered and cheered my presence.
Chanting �Jump! Jump! Jump!� I saw Jimmy throwing his fist in the air
keeping the rhythm. So what could I do. I did a stage dive. I kind of
blacked out at that moment.
It turned out jumping was a bad idea. What I thought was a stage was the
tooth of time, A peek severl hundreds of feet high. An Old werewolf, who I
found out was a werewolf about a year ago. Happened along and pulled me back
to the ground. Before I fell to a rather ugly demise.
The Werewolf�s name was Old Man Greyfeather. And he was the reason I walked
this path today. I figured that while I was in the area I would stop by and
say hello. I was beginning to think that this whole vacation idea was a bad
idea. Chainsaw, Dr. Hyde and Fallen don�t seem like the relaxation type.
The other members of the Extreme Hunting Alliance I�m not too sure about.
At any rate, there I was. In the Rocky Mountains of New Mexico looking for
an old hunting lodge that Greyfeather lived in. I always ment to ask him
where he got his name. But I figured if he wanted to tell me he would tell
me.
When I recovered from my black out there these two old indians looking over
me. I recall woodstock and there I was wondering where the hell I was. So
naturaly I asked �Have I died and ended up in a westren?� both men looked
at each other then at me and they gave a short laugh. And informed me that I
almost took a several story swan dive and if the didn�t happen to have been
walking by they would be picking me up with a sponge off the foot of the
Tooth of Time.
Now At the time I just thought these were two old indians walking about in
the woods. At the time I didn�t give it a secnod thought. A little over a
year ago I came back here to clere my head and I find out that Old Man
Greyfeather was a werewolf.
When I walk, I think. And not only was the past of years gone by echo in my
head. But the events of last night played by as well. I had spent a while
on the patio of the St. James. Which was built over the St. James Hotel
swimming pool. I was doing some drinking with Fallen and swapping some war
stories. Fallen of his days before he was imbued and I was telling him some
of the harrowing tales of when I went up against the enemy. The
conversation was interupted when I saw Chainsaw get tossed out of the bar.
I asked if he needed help, and he said no. So I let him go about his
bisness. Which took him to the park. Shortly after him a guy dressed as
the urban cowboy. He walked over to fallen and I, and under normal
circumstances I would have ignored him. But he was at our table and there
was courisity in his holster. A Kerr Revolver, which is a five shot black
powder revolver used by the south in the Civil War. And I don�t think any
one makes these anymore.
Guy: You with that guy who was just thrown out?
Fallen: What�s it to you?
Dr. No: Yeah he�s with us. You the new management?
Guy: Nope, I just aimin� to apologize for wheat my guys did to him. They�
were drunk and your friend ran into him. And spilt his drink. I did manage
to keep my guys from roughing him to much.
Dr. No: And this is my concern in what manner?
Guy: Just thought you�d like to know
Any way I got to where I was going and saw the hunting lodge. Looked like
Greyfeather got Direct TV since I was here last. I knocked on the door and
heard an invitation to come in. I walked in and felt my warning sence go
off. I ducked out of the door before an arrow skewered my head.
Dr. No: I come in peace. Hold your fire!
Greyfather: That you spirit messenger?
Dr. No: Yeah it me.
Apperantly during my little acid trip I started to quote some dead people
and Greyfeather thought I had made contact with the spirit world. Apeantly
while I was a little out of touch with reality, Jimi Hendrix talked through
me. Hendrix was a spirit and I was his messenger. Hince my name aperantly.
Greyfeather: Come on in, come on in.
So I entered. The place had little in the way of furniture. But it had a
lot of trophies. Animal heads and antlers adorned the walls of this hunting
lodge that I stood in. Black Sheep was on the television.
Greyfeather: Sorry about the arrow there spirit messenger. I don�t get
many visitors round these parts.
Dr. No: it�s alright. You missed me.
Our conversation was civil. But Greyfeather seemed to have his mind on some
other subject. When I asked what was on his mind he just said he was
getting old, that�s all.
Our Conversation went on for a good long time. But the time had come for me
to go and so reluctantly I left before the other members of the Alliance got
worried. So we parted way and I went back to the hotel.
But something about Greyfeather still haunted me. What was on his mind, and
why did he avoid it?
Doctor No
�They can�t get away from me now.�
U.S.M.C. General Lewis B. Chesty Puller
Upon hearing he was surrounded
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