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Cranky

 

It’s fall again, Halloween is fast approaching. It’s been such a busy fall that the old woman and I didn’t even get a chance to go berry picking. I was building a new boat and I had to get the old woman to help get all the traps ready and paint all of my buoys. She happened to buy some paint that was a little off-color. I came home at suppertime and, being a little on the wise side, I asked her who’s buoys she was painting. I didn’t realize she could still run that fast. I made it to the house but I had a florescent stripe from my head to my belt, and that red showed up good in my grey hair. Funny how women seem to get cranky at the end of a long day.

She finally came in the house and I asked her if she was going to the turkey shoot tomorrow. She said, No, I might save my shotgun shell until you’re bent over to check your target! Cranky‚ that’s what it is. The old woman is a crack shot with any kind of gun and she has won a lot of turkey shoots, that’s what makes me a little more cautious when she has one of these cranky spells!

I can remember back in the 70’s she decided she wanted to go deer hunting with me. I bought her a 308 Remington 742 Auto Loader and took her out to the gravel pit to practice with it. I took my rifle along to check the sights. I put up two targets and loaded both rifles with five shells. We each emptied the guns at our targets and then went up to check the hits. I hit mine pretty good but all five of hers were in the bulls-eye. She looked at me and smiled. I said, Well, we must have gotten the targets mixed up! She said, That’s Bull Crap! I said, Well honey, you are living proof that when you fire a gun the bullet has to land somewhere. She said, You’re just mad cause I beat you! I said, Let’s go home.

Hunting season opened a few days after that and we went out the first morning with some friends from New York. I left the old woman on a deer crossing and we put on a drive. We jumped a bunch of deer and I waited for her to start shooting. Nothing happened so I worked my way out to her. She was leaning against a tree and her face was red as a beet. I walked up to her and asked, You cold honey? She slammed her 308 in my hand and said, Take this nice, new piece of junk you bought me and shove it! I asked, What’s the matter? She hollered, It won’t shoot. A great big deer came out and it wouldn’t shoot.

I stood my gun against a tree and looked hers over. I noticed immediately that the bolt was not closed clear to and hadn’t locked. I put my thumb on the bolt and pushed and it made a loud click. I then pointed it into the sky and pulled the trigger five times, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang. I checked to be sure I had counted correctly and the gun was empty, then I passed it back to her. You don’t pass her a loaded gun when she is in that frame of mind, like I said, She gets cranky. She sat on the ground and cried like a baby. What’s the matter now? I asked. You made a fool out of me. she replied. I said, No I didn’t honey, God did.

Wow, I remember the look she gave me like it was yesterday. She asked, Where are my bullets? Out in the truck, I lied. We walked the quarter mile to the truck in silence and while she was looking for her shells, I poured her a cup of coffee and got her a doughnut. I then proceeded to show her how to properly close the action on her gun. She calmed down a little and I finally discovered her missing box of shells in the back of my hunting jacket. We hunted awhile that afternoon and one of our friends shot a nice buck.

I don’t know if she has ever forgiven me for not showing her the fine points of loading that rifle, but she never liked it after that and when our youngest son, Chris, got old enough to have a gun, she gave it to him. I’m still very cautious what I say to her when we hunt together. She gets cranky.

– Capt. Perry Wrinkle