A Short Story About Chance, Luck And Kharma-Part 5

After returning to the real world Roger, Woodrow, Butch and I all sort of scattered to the wind. Roger was in St. Louis working for the phone company. Woodrow ended up in Wisconsin with the local fire department. Butch and Janie moved to Grand Junction Colorado where he worked highway construction. And I married and moved to Enid Oklahoma where I sold veterinarian supplies in that part of the state.

Butch and I saw each other about once a year. We would go on fishing trips to Ontario or Manitoba Canada. Butch and Janie had twin boys and one girl. And seemed happy until the last time we went on our annual fishing trip. After picking up Butch and heading out of town, Butch asked me to pull off the road for a minute. He said, " instead of going fishing this year, why don't we go to Vegas". So off we went. I'm not sure why I went along with his idea, but next thing i know we're in Vegas. In those days Butch was a heavy drinker and so was I. Somewhere between the casino running and the women chasing we got seperated. And Butch ended up in jail and had to call Janie to wire money so he could get bailed out. I would have given anything to seen Janie's face when he called her.

It wasn't to long after that when Janie packed up the kids and moved back to Kansas. Butch married an hispanic lady about a year later. I didn't hear from him to much after that.

The last time I talked to Butch was in 1991. He called me and was well into his cuffs and was slurring every word. Said he had been diagnosed with colon cancer and needed me to tell him my military service number. His number was one digit behind mine and that's all he could remember. He couldn't remember his number. He told me he was living in Topeka Kansas. I told him to keep me posted. That was the last time I talked to him.

That evil I spoke of earlier, which followed us home had claimed it's first victim from Hanover. Butch died about 2 months after I talked to him on the phone.It wasn't long before Roger got prostate cancer. Woodrow got colon cancer. I got diabetes and cancer. The evil culprit was Agent Orange a powerful herbicide used to defoliate the jungles of Vietnam. It makes me angry every time I think about it. Our own government had used biological warfare on it's own troops. And then in recent years they have the nerve to criticize Sadam Husein for using biologic agents. Don't get me wrong, I love my country, I just don't have any good feelings about the ones who have been running it.

I would venture to say that more Vietnam vets have died from Agent Orange than died on the battle fields. Every time I pick up a newspaper I see where another vet has died as a result of his exposure to that terrible herbicide.

So, what does all this have to do with chance and luck and kharma? You'll have to wait for the final part.

Fiction ? By X.

A Short Story About Chance, Luck And Kharma-Part 4

If you have never been thru Marine Corps boot camp I'll try to give you a little peek at what goes on. They arrange it so you arrive about 2:00 A. M. It starts immediatly as you step off the bus from the airport. The D. I.'s are screaming at the top of their lungs telling you to line up on the yellow footprints on the the asphalt. It goes nonstop from that point on. You are marched to a barracks where you are issued all of your military clothing, then to another where you remove and package your civilian clothes and ship them home. Somewhere in this mayley your head is shaved down to bare skin by barbers who have no feelings and very dull clippers. Next you are taken to your new home for the next few months and told to mark all of your clothing with stamping kits you have been issued. You spend the rest of the day running and doing exercises while you are being yelled at and called every kind of low life the D. I. can think of. You are finally put to bed about 10:00 P. M. that night totally exhausted.

Now is the time you are wondering what the hell you have gotten yourself into. And your thoughts are drifting back to your home in Kansas. To make matters worse the Recruit Depot in San Diego is right next to the airport where you arrived. You hear the planes landing and taking off all night long and you wish you were on one of those planes headed home.

Back to labeling the clothes for a bit. In the military you go by your last name first then your initials. Most of the guys that were in my platoon in boot camp I only know by thier last name. I never got close enough with the majority of them to find out what thier first names were. And so I sat there marking my stuff, Luck EE. That's right my given name was Edward E Luck. Mom didn't want to give me a middle name but Dad insisted on at least giving me a middle initial. So it was I was Edward E. And Lord only knows what the "E" was for. Anyway the D. I's had a field day with the Luck EE stamped on my fatigue's.

Thier main goal was to break us down to dirt, then build us back up again to thier standard. It was a rewarding experience in the end but I don't wish to repeat it. One of the recruits died during training. The D. I.s said it was heart failure, not surprising.

Butch, Woodrow, Roger and I were together in the same platoon. But that was as far as the"Buddy System" went. After boot camp we went seperate ways, but all were in basic infantry. And would all end up in Viet Nam in different units.

It's a wonder as many can live thru a war and return home in one piece physically. It is such a time that you begin to start thinking about chance, luck and kharma. Your spiritual beliefs are stretched to the max and then you question how there could even be a god. If there were, how could he allow such horror?

Anyway, Butch, Woodrow, Roger and I all returned home physically intact, which to me is an amazing fact when you consider our units were in some of the worst combat that occured in the I Corps (northern south viet nam).

But little did we know that something even far more evil than what Victor Charlie threw at us would follow us back to the real world.

Fiction ? By X.

Grand Kids

The two younger grand kids have been here this week. It's been a joy to visit with them. We've been doing a lot of fishing, but very little catching. Just too hot and humid.
They really grow up fast. Seems like yesterday when they came into this world. X.

A Short Story About Chance, Luck and Kharma-Part 3

During our senior year in highschool Butch and I had met these twins as we played football in a rival community not far away. We started dating them soon after. Butch dated Judy and I dated Janie. They were identical twins and even I had trouble telling them apart. I think twins are fascinating. At times they would even finish the other ones sentence without breaking stride. They had thier differences, don't get me wrong, but at times it seemed like they were exact clones.

I'm not one to pull practicle jokes on people, but our situation got the wheels to spinning in my brain. I approached the twins with the idea of switching on the next date and having Janie go with Butch and Judy with me. I just wanted to put one over on Butch, as he was always pulling some prank on me.

Well the whole thing backfired on me. It turns out Janie had been wanting to date Butch and I had just dealt him up on a silver platter. Thier relationship got more serious as the year progressed and they had wedding plans for the following fall after graduation. Janie apologized for what happened and also thanked me at the same time. Only time I've received an apology and a thank you in the same conversation. Of course I was the best man or maybe I should say second best man at the wedding.

Butch got a job working at the Sinclair station and I was helping the local electrician. About six months after the wedding, Butch came into Martha's diner one day all excited. He said the Marine Recruiter would be at the Sinclair station at 4:00 and he and Roger Todd and Woodrow Allen were joining up on some kind of buddy plan. He urged me to join them. Seems like any time Butch asked me to do something it was almost like a dare. Of course I took him up on the invite, the next thing I know I'm headed for boot camp in San Diego. And it wouldn't be long after that we would find out what war was really like.

Fiction ? X.

A Short Story About Chance, Luck and Kharma-Part 2

The games boys will play.

As youngsters growing up in Hanover, we would play cowboys and indians or war an awful lot. The first stages were innocent and involved a great deal of pretending. That progressed into using tomatoes and other garden produce raided from neighborhood gardens, which by the way, makes a lot of angry neighbors. After someone got smacked a little hard it escalated to dirt clods and rock throwing.

Then one of the guys suggested we use our BB guns. That went fine until one day when Bill Whalen got his eye put out. We reasoned it was all Becky's fault. She was Pat Carter's little sister. Someone had forgotten to tell her not to shoot anyone above the belt line. That was one our main rules. We thought it was humorous to blast someone in the lower extrimaties. Anyway we transferred the blame to her. After all wasn't it always girls who were spoiling our fun.

In highschool someone got the bright idea that we graduated to more serious fun. We all met out at the old Jennings farmstead. It had a bunch of barns, sheds and an old farmhouse. This time we brought our shotguns and boxes of birdshot. At first we would just try to get close and not hit anyone. Next thing we know Dickie Collins is hit in the side of the face and neck with birshot. Dickie was bleeding pretty good and complaining about the pain. "Oh come on Dickie, it can't be that bad, It's just birdshot," said Butch. Any way we came up with a story about shooting skeet and said it was an accident. His parents bought the story and it became our dirty little secret.

It's amazing that none of us at that time could come to the realization that when you do stupid things, bad things will usually happen. Most of my life I have thought that the word "Kharma" was just something the Hippys pulled out of thier cosmos,but, more on this later.

Anyway, that episode at the Jennings farmstead, ended our boys games. We were now ready for adulthood and the games that they play.

Fiction ? By X.

A Short Story About Chance, Luck and Kharma-Part 1

Have you lived long enough to wonder about why things happen the way they do? Do you think we have control of our lives and actions or do you believe we are but puppets controled by the Masters hand? Sometimes I think I know but mostly I just wander and wonder.

I grew up on the plains of Kansas in the heart of america. The product of a generation that would be known for hatching boomers in great numbers. It was a farming community where I was raised. Life was pretty casual and laid back in our little town. Nobody locked thier homes or autos at night. The only crimes we heard of happened in big cities far away.

One of my early childhood friends was Richard Wilson. Butch is what he went by. My first encounter with Butch was at a sandlot football game at the age of 12. He had just moved to town. He was big for his age and had a tendency to bully others. After the game ended, Butch proceded to push me around. And a wrestling match ensued. I was a pretty good scrapper and soon had him in one of my famous headlocks. He was begging me to let go and I did as he seemed to be in a great deal of pain. He allowed that since he had previously injured his neck he was at a disadvantage.

Apparently he thought it was best to be allies with the kid who had just whooped his butt. So we were best of friends from that day forward. We did a lot of crazy things together as we were growing up. Like the time we dripped hot wax all over our face and arms and went to school Halloween morning. Or the time we played strip poker with the school Principal's two daughters in the cellar out back of Butch's house. We were 14 and they were 16 and 17.

We were young men in search of the frenge elements in life. Always open to anything which had risk or danger envolved. Which may or may not have lead us on our journey.

Fiction? By X.

Have A Good Holliday

Hope everyone has an enjoyable and safe holliday. Remember why we celebrate the 4th. Xavier