My Photo
Location: Clearwater, South Carolina, United States

Friday, November 18, 2005

Bo and Sam - 2

As this newest adventure begins Sam finds Bo lying out in a field behind his house.

Sam: What’s going on Bo?
Bo: I'm working on a science project for school.
Sam: This is a science project?
Bo: Yeah -- excitin' ain't it? I can almost get a glimpse of my long dreamed of "C" on this project --- although anything will do better than my usual.
Sam: You mean the one that begins with "F"?
Bo: Don't say that letter -- it will jinx me!!
Sam: OK, OK -- but I still don't see what's so scientific about lying out in a field with a bunch of rancid stuff smeared all over yourself.
Bo: Don't say those big words -- you know they make me nervous!
Sam: Rancid is not a big word -- it just means rotten -- only worse.
Bo: This stuff sure is that.
Sam: Now for the big question -- what is this all about?Bo: Maybe I better go back to the beginning.
Sam: The beginning is the place I like everything to start.
Bo: The other day my Dad called me "buzzard bait", and it gave me an idea -- I could be buzzard bait, and catch a buzzard for my school project -- they would be so impressed.
Sam: But "buzzard bait" is just an expression - like the one - to catch a squirrel you climb a tree and act like a nut.
Bo: And that one doesn't work, cause I tried that!
Sam: Yeah, I remember, what were you, a pecan?
Bo: It might have been a little big, but I thought I did good -- I made the shell where I could just barely squeeze inside.
Sam: And everything was looking good till you closed the shell and didn't have anything to hold on with -- and fell out of the tree and cracked your little shell!
Bo: Yeah -- and my head too!
Sam: Back to the buzzard bait -- what exactly is that stuff all over you and why?
Bo: It is exactly last week's leftovers -- and it's part of the bait -- the way I figure it is that buzzards are drawn to things that are dead and stink.
Sam: And that's the stink?
Bo: Right.
Sam: Most of it looks about the same color -- what was it called in its former life?
Bo: It was Mom's famous rutabaga casserole.
Sam: I can hardly wait to miss that one.
Bo: Rutabaga casserole is teaching me to lie.
Sam: How so?
Bo: On casserole night I find myself saying stuff like -- I suddenly don't feel very well - or - I think I gotta go barf.
Sam: I get the picture -- hey -- can I help you play deceased?
Bo: I told you to watch the big words!
Sam: It means dead.
Bo: Oh -- nah -- I don't think you can look dead enough.
Sam: What if I took off my shoes?
Bo: You'd have the smell right -- but if you helped me it wouldn't be fair -- I want to get this "C" on my own -- quick -- get out of here -- I see them starting to circle overhead!
Sam: I might ought to stay hid under the trees nearby in case a big one tries to fly off with you.
Bo: Wait a minute! They can't do that -- can they?
Sam: I don't know -- they are pretty big!
Bo: Whoa -- forget this project -- where's the nearest water!
Sam: Are you thirsty?
Bo: No -- I need to wash off these leftovers before the buzzards get down here!
Sam: Why are you waving your arms like that?
Bo: I want to make sure they know I'm alive till I get cleaned off!
Sam: Maybe you should think of a project that's a little safer.
Bo: At least one that smells a little better.
Sam: By the way, why did your Dad call you "buzzard bait" to start with?
Bo: He didn't just call me that -- he promised that's what I'd be the next time I even touched his bike!
Sam: You mean the one your Mom scrunched when you left it in the driveway?
Bo: One and the same.
Sam: But how did he find out it was you?
Bo: Mom spilled her guts -- Dad threatened her and she broke!
Sam: I thought she loved you and wouldn't talk cause she didn't want him to make hamburger outta you!
Bo: She was doing real good -- but there's one thing Mom values more than me.
Sam: That must really be something!
Bo: To her it is -- it's a small piece of plastic.
Sam: Plastic is not valuable!
Bo: When it's Mom's charge card it is!
Sam: Suddenly light begins to dawn on the situation.
Bo: When Dad threatened to take her card -- Mom told everything she knew -- I think she even added some to it.
Sam: Wasn't she still afraid he would kill you?
Bo: Mom don't care if he kills strangers -- and that's suddenly what I became.
Sam: Your Dad wouldn't really do you bodily harm -- would he?
Bo: I don't think so -- but I probably won't get another allowance till I'm 32 years old!
Sam: Hey -- earning your own money could be a project for school!
Bo: Yeah -- but where am I going to find a monkey and a tin cup?
Sam: Did I ever tell you - - - -
Bo: I know, I know -- I have weird ideas.
The scene fades as they wander on down the street, pondering other sources of income.
Psalms 37:4 ec


Post a Comment

<< Home