Badger

772 words

“We’re gonna go play down by the creek, Ma,” I called.

“All right but you watch out for snakes,” she shouted from the kitchen.  “It’s been so warm the rattlers will be out soon.  And stay away from that ol’ badger that lives in the hole in the pasture.”

As we walked down the road, my brother Danny said, “Ma tells us to watch out for snakes an’ that ol’ badger every time we go outside.  She must think we don’t remember nothin.”

“I know why we have to watch out for snakes but I ain’t never seen a badger," I said.  "What’s so scary about ‘em?”

I figured Danny would know.  He was in third grade and knew everything.

‘I ain’t never seen one either,” he admitted. “But if Ma and Pa are so worried about us runnin’ into one, they must be awful scary.  I figure they’re about ten feet tall with big sharp teeth and claws.  Kinda like the T-rex we saw in that museum, except with skin and fur.”

“Ooh,” I shivered.  “I hope I never see one.”

“Hurry Cindy, we’re comin’ to Josiah McGriff’s place.”

We always hurried past Josiah McGriff’s place because he didn’t like kids, ‘specially us two. That might have been ‘cause he caught us stealin’ apples from his tree one time last summer.  That day, he came out of his barn wavin’ a pitchfork and yelled some of the same words Pa said when he hit his thumb with a hammer. Josiah was real old, prob’ly about fifty, and he was a tall skinny beanpole of a man. He lived in a little white house with a mangy dog that looked like a coyote and a bunch of half wild cats.

A while back Josiah had found hisself a lady friend.  Her name was Pearl and she worked in the grocery store over in Pickardville.  Pearl was as fat as Josiah was skinny and as jolly as he was crabby.  Nobody knew how she put up with him, but there was talk that they were plannin’ to get married.  Ma said she’d believe that when she saw it.

As we ran past Josiah's place we heard a commotion inside the barn.  We snuck up as close as we dared and listened.  We couldn’t hear everything, but we got most of it.

“Now, Pearl, don't you be like that!” Josiah was yellin’ inside the barn.

Pearl came flyin’ out of that barn faster than any 250 pound lady should be able to move, her round face red as a beet.  Josiah was right behind her, holdin’ the same pitchfork he had waved at us last summer.

She turned and threw something in his face, screaming, “I’m leavin’!  You’re a mean, stubborn ol’ badger and you always will be!”

“Did you hear that?” Danny whispered.  “Josiah is a badger.  Let’s get out o’ here!”

We turned and ran all the way down to the creek and climbed the biggest tree we could find.  We sat up there listenin’ to our hearts thump and stared through the branches, afraid that a wild man with a pitchfork was gonna come down the hill after us any minute.  We only came down ‘cause it was about to get dark and the skeeters were bitin’ somethin’ awful.

It took us extra long to get home because we took the long way to avoid Josiah’s place.  We charged into the house, both yellin’ at once, “Ma! Pa! Ol’ Josiah McGriff is a—“

We both stopped in mid-yell, because Josiah McGriff was sittin’ at the kitchen table with Ma and Pa and he was bawlin’ like a baby.

“Now take it easy, Josiah,” Ma said as she set a cup of coffee in front of him.  “I’m sure she’ll be back.”

“No, she won’t,” Josiah sobbed.  “She threw the ring in my face and called me a mean, stubborn ol' bachelor.  I ain’t that stubborn.  All I said was that no wife of mine was gonna work in town and she got mad and left.”

He took a big red handkerchief out of the pocket of his overalls and blew his nose.

Pa turned to Danny and me.  “What were you kids hollerin' about when you came into the house?” he asked.

“Nothin!” we said together and went out on the front porch.

“Do you think a bachelor is worse'n a badger?” I whispered.

“I ain’t sure,” Danny replied.  “Badgers got teeth but bachelors got pitchforks.”