by Gary Foshee
“Next time you can watch me win it Dad. I’ll train real hard.
Do you think you can come next time?” he asked.
His father looked at the paper and then, as if he had for-
gotten, replied, “Sure, if things slow down at work. I’ll be there next time.”
Rammer whirled around, and with a heavy foot, walked back
to bed.
“That means no. Things never slow down at work.”
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C H A P T E R 8
The Horn Swoggler
Exquisite voice: Unequaled beauty:
Being of light: Master of deception.
Located in the mountains just outside of town was a large gold
mine. It supplied a fresh supply of gold to town residents and
was used to barter and trade at the market and down at the docks.
It was the pride of many fathers for their sons to follow them in the mines. Generations of young men willingly lined up to follow their father’s legacy and to make them proud.
Hyben had worked in the mine for twenty-two years. He
proudly followed his father and his grandfather who were great
miners in their days. He rose through the ranks as a mine boss
and now serves as a teacher and mentor to all new aspiring young lads who dream of wealth and great fortunes.
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Dr. Gary Warren Foshee
“Hey shipwreck, did you make it to the Little Round About
the other day?” asked Hyben.
“Did I? That was the closest finish in years. I thought the new
kid had him for sure. Strange how he flopped at the end? It was
almost like something in the crowd distracted him.”
“You know…I noticed that too,” said Hyben, tilting his head
slightly. “Hey, some of the guys are going to Snails and Tails after work to knock down some thunder juice, ‘wanna come?”
Klug, thrilled at the invitation responded, “Do I! I thought
you’d never ask.” Final y, he thought, after six weeks on the job I am getting in with the guys.
Klug, a young thunder beast with plates lined down his back,
was new to the mines. His father had worked the mines for years
and was proud to see his son follow in his footsteps. Klug worked on Hyben’s shift, a clown and a bonafide jokester who was always joking and getting into trouble. Everyone loved to work with
Hyben, though. After work, his stories, all in elaborate anima-
tion, were the life of the party at the local tavern.
“Hey Klug, stop for a second,” said Hyben, walking over and
taking off his hard hat. “See this vein right here? We call this a
‘paycheck vein’ because it’s not the big one, but it’s the sure one. It pays the bil s and keeps the mine open.”
“Yes sir,” said Klug, eager to learn everything he could from
Hyben. Klug took his pick, raised it high and swung at the vein.
The pick slipped out of his hands and sailed across the room.
Laughter erupted down the tunnel.
“Hey boy, that pick too much for you to handle,” rang a voice
down one of the side shafts.
Hyben, a joke that was played on all new guys, had greased
Klug’s pick. Klug picked it up, rubbed dirt on it and started to 162
THE REDMADAFA
chisel away. He knew he couldn’t let their jokes affect him, or he would never last long down in the mine.
Klug, young and strong, worked tirelessly at the vein. Large
chunks of rocks flung through the air and landed on the floor.
Hyben walked up and down the shafts inspecting the timber
supports holding the ceiling at bay and he directed the placement of new ones as new shafts drilled deep into the side of the mine.
Hyben walked back by Klug and stopped. His ears moved and his
senses went on full alarm.
“Get out of the way!” yelled Hyben.
A huge crack ripped across the ceiling and raced down the
wal s. The floor rumbled as creature and beast scrambled for the exit. Hyben, Mack’s father, pushed Klug out of the way, just before the ceiling col apsed on him.
Dust permeated throughout the tunnels. Men and beast
crouched low holding their hard hats, waiting for the rumbles to cease. Klug stood up and felt his way through the dust.
“Hyben, can you hear me? Are you alright?” yelled Klug.
Hyben lay on the ground crushed under a massive support
beam. Klug and several others worked fast but were unable to
move it. With sweat and dirt all over his face, Klug knelt down
and said, “Hyben, you saved my life; you saved my life.”
Hyben knew this day would come. He knew the joke would
someday be on him. Yet there was so much left undone. He
thought he would have more time to do the things he dreamed of
and say the things he needed to say.
But time had run out.
Death played the ultimate joke and called sooner than Hyben
had planned. He gambled with life and lost. A gamble many men
take and lose.
“Tell my son…I…love him. I never…told…” his eyes closed.
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Dr. Gary Warren Foshee
Klug rose and looked at the guys. “He saved my life. He put
my life before his own. He’s…he’s a hero.”
“He sure was,” said Pounder. “He sure was.”
Arriving on scene exhausted and out of breath, Rockbone,
the mine boss, yelled, “What happened? Is everyone alright?” He
noticed the debris and saw a mangled figure trapped underneath.
He pushed his way forward and lowered his light. “Hyben,” he
exclaimed, looking at those standing by. “What happened?”
“Klug was drilling and hit a vein. It cracked and everything
came down,” said Pounder. “There was nothing we could do. It all came down so quick.”
Rockbone was a mean surly man. He had learned to hide his
emotions and drive men with a hard, unforgiving whip. “Get a
mover in here and clean this up. Steady the rest of the roof with beams and secure this shaft until it can be inspected. I’ll notify his family.”
“Boss, can I go with you?” asked Klug. “He saved my life.”
Rockbone nodded in agreement.
Rockbone and Klug arrived at Hyben’s house several hours later.
Rockbone collected his thoughts. He stepped onto the steps and
raised the corroded paw door-knocker which was slightly lower
than his chin and attached to a dilapidated faded blue door, and tapped it three times. With over 30 years of experience, Rockbone had lost numerous friends in the mines. He hated this part of the job. Seeing a family devastated by the loss of a loved one never came easy for the old timer.
Jitter bugs raced up and down his throat as he waited for the
door to open. Each time he visited a house to express his condo-
lences he couldn’t help but remember the visit he got when he
was a little boy. He knew the pain and sorrow first hand and had 164
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seen his mother and sisters struggle for years after the death of his father. It wasn’t something he would wish on his worst enemy and being that Hyben was a friend, made it more difficult.
Hyben’s house was located just outside of junction point. The
family was poor, as were most of the families that worked at the mines. Clutter gathered outside and the yard overgrown with
weeds. One shutter hung low on the right window and the roof
was in dire need of repair.
Footsteps softly pattered behind the door.
Rockbo
ne’s hands trembled hearing the lock jiggle.
“Wait just a minute,” said Mrs. Davoo, unlocking the door.
The door opened.
Mrs. Davoo took one look at Rockbone and col apsed into
his arms.
“No! No! Not Hyben. Not Hyben. Tell me it’s not so.”
Mack heard his mother’s cry from his bedroom. He stood
up and listened for a second. He walked down the hal way and
rounded the corner.
Klug stood in the doorway.
His mother sobbed in Rockbone’s arms.
“What’s wrong? What’s going on?” he asked.
Rockbone had not yet official y told Mrs. Davoo. She knew
why he was there, but it was his responsibility to tell her so she wouldn’t try and deny it later.
“Mrs. Davoo, I’m sorry. Hyben was killed in an accident in
the mine today. I’m so sorry,” said Rockbone.
Mack froze in place. He didn’t know what to do or say.
Stunned, he looked down at the floor devastated. His mother
took him in her arms and held him tight. He didn’t shed a tear;
he didn’t embrace her; he was numb.
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Dr. Gary Warren Foshee
Mack and his father weren’t close. Hyben had worked in the
mines since graduating school. After work, he frequently visited the local tavern, where he spent any extra money he managed to
scrounge.
After several minutes Klug stuttered, “Mrs. Davoo, your hus-
band saved my life today. I wanted you to know. As the ceiling
col apsed, he pushed me out of the way. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks. She glanced up at Klug and
wiped them, “Thank you. Thank you for coming.”
Klug twisted around toward Mack. “Your Dad is a hero. He
saved my life.”
Mack continued to stare off into the distance motionless. A
hero, he thought to himself, never expecting to hear those words and his Dad’s name in the same sentence.
“I’ll send Klug by in a few days with his things. If you need
anything before then, please let me know,” said Rockbone.
Klug walked off the porch. This was the first of many visits he
would make if he stayed in the mines. “Boss, what will the family do now?”
Rockbone felt terrible. He knew the family couldn’t make it
without Hyben. They didn’t have any money and would probably
lose the house.
“Oh, I’m sure they’ll find away,” he said, not wanting the
young and inexperienced thunder beast to lose faith and be
discouraged.
He placed his hand on Klug’s shoulder and squeezed. “Why
don’t you take the rest of the day off? I’ll see you in the morning.”
“See ‘ya in the morning boss.”
* * * * * * *
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THE REDMADAFA
Thunder Juice Town was busy. Tree floaters filled the harbor loading and unloading their exotic cargo of animals, freight, food and spices. The smell of baked bread flirtatiously drifted down the
street, knocking on every door, peaking in every window. Little
creatures raced old wooden box crates down the street weaving
in and out of legs, tails, food stands and carts loaded with straw.
A cool gentle wind blew across the water ricocheting violet
rays of sunshine on the shoreline; mid morning always was the
best time to view the beauty of Old Juicy. Bugler fish could still be heard off in the distance playing their wonderful ensembles
at The Redmadafa: there was no other place on the circle like
Thunder Juice Town.
The temple resounded with activity. People gathered in
the outer courts listening to lectures on all types of subjects.
Gardeners trimmed trees and shrubs. Temple servants collected
delicate juicy fruit from the trees lining The Redmadafa’s banks.
Leaves used for healing were pruned from the topmost shoots.
Placed in decorative baskets, they were taken into the inner
chambers of the temple. The orchestra rehearsed as little children played hide and seek around the statues.
He followed The Redmadafa low, inches from its surface,
rippling the water. Displaying his flying superiority, he followed every oxbow, flipping and barrel-rolling in spectacular splendor catching every violet ray. He entered the outskirts of town and
rose high into the sky. Circling over town, he cast his majestic shadow over its inhabitants.
Heads rose upward.
Eyes glimmered.
Doors and windows flung open.
Word raced down the streets and scattered through the
markets.
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Dr. Gary Warren Foshee
Everyone took to the streets and fields to get a glimpse: The Augur had returned.
Up at the university, campus was in an uproar. Students had
long been taught that The Augur did not exist. Professors and
students both stood dumbfounded as he soared over the campus
and landed in the center square.
A mighty eagle with long feathers and a full plumage of
varied colors stood before the people. Shouts of joy came from
some; cries came from others. Some hid, afraid because of what
they had done and said about him. Others rejoiced and ran to
greet him.
The square filled, overflowing down the streets and into the
allies. Second story windows opened and rooftops filled with
adults and children all trying to get a glimpse of the long awaited return. In unison, the crowd bowed as he opened his wings and
spoke. The beauty of his voice and the eloquence of his tongue
mesmerized the crowd filling them with awe-struck wonder.
“My children, it is so good to final y be with you once again.
I have waited for so long now to come and take you under my
wings and protect you from those who would do you harm,” he
said, walking up the steps of the great fountain perching himself on its top step.
“My heart wept bitterly every day, longing to see your lovely
faces. But now,” he said changing his tone, “I have returned to
save you from a deadly beast that is ravaging the land. An evil
from the North has spread across this circle that is beyond imagination. Many of my children have fled their homes and are now
lost and confused, wandering alone in barren wasteland. But do
not be dismayed,” he reassured. “I have come to take you to a new land, a land where this beast will never be able to harm you. I will 168
THE REDMADAFA
not rest day or night until this Shadow of Death is destroyed. Do you believe?”
“Yes,” a few people shouted from the crowd.
“Do you believe in me now?”
“Yes,” the crowd cheered now gaining momentum.
“I have come to give you rest! Trussssst in me and I will give
you your dreams!”
The crowd erupted.
Dancing broke out all around the fountain filling the square
with celebrations. Everyone jumped and whirled around throw-
ing flowers, hats, and anything else they had, into the air.
Onuka pushed through the crowd trying to get a glimpse of
him. Barely catching the last sentence his excitement abruptly
ended. Before him stood a powerful eagle, whose appearance was
captivating and majestic by all measures— His voice, exquisite; his beauty, unequaled: a being of light.
Onuka shouted, as the eagle
embraced the crowd. “Eagle,
where do you come from?”
The people, many who had visited the temple, looked at
Onuka like he was crazy. “He is the High Priest and does not
know where The Augur comes from,” they said to each other with
puzzled looks.
The eagle paid him no attention. He continued to walk about
the crowd greeting the little children.
“Mighty eagle, what is your name and where do you come
from,” persisted Onuka, this time standing a few feet from him?
The eagle recognized him and thought careful y before
responding.
“Onuka, you are High Priest and guardian of the temple and
you don’t know the answer to that question?”
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Dr. Gary Warren Foshee
Everyone laughed and looked at Onuka wondering the same
thing.
“Eagle, it has been a long time and many in this crowd have
lost their faith in you. I thought it might be wise to hear from your own lips the origin of your genesis.”
All eyes rotated back captivated by the eagle.
He thought for a moment and then with a calm reassuring
reply answered, “You’re absolutely right, my wise and loyal priest.
As a matter of fact, that is why I have come. Gather everyone at the temple tonight and I will answer that question then.”
* * * * * * *
Pepper sat quietly at her desk thinking about her Papa and
brother. She sketched a picture of her teacher, a heart, and a few other whimsical symbols. Pepper and her mother had been alone
now for a couple months and life, as she knew it, was beginning
to change. From her bedroom at night, she overheard her mother
crying, praying to The Augur for help. She had many unanswered
questions about what had happened and desperately needed to
talk to someone, but everyone overlooked her and her needs.
They concentrated on finding Chesty and Caboose, and comfort-
ing her mother’s needs.
She felt all alone, something she had never felt before. The
calm, secure, peaceful feeling that once filled her life was slowly replaced by restlessness, insecurity, and fear.
Her teacher, a middle-aged human with black hair salted
with grey on the sides and sticking straight into the air, drew a half circle on the board and turned around. Over his shirt he