Louie first became acquainted with Bull Durham at the age of six. The year was 1957 and his Pa had just recently returned from the auction where he had purchased a new herd bull for the cow pasture. The cow pasture was home to thirty-two gentle, peace-abiding, lady type cattle. They were a ragged looking lot, to be sure, for ribs showed through loose hides and hip bones protruded. However, these cattle were conditioned to the hard living of the Highnote area and raised strong, rugged calves who could eat the bark off of trees if food was scarce. These cows were as meek as lambs. A fellow could approach without fear, rub their necks, scratch behind their ears or above their horns and turn around only to have those affectionate cattle butting against him seeking more attention.
Yet, on this day Louie's daddy had returned from the market with Bull Durham, a half-ton of hard-boiled, bad-mannered, vile-tempered, man-hating, bull. Just the sort of animal to survive off a diet of prickly pear, pigweed, bramble briar and barbed-wire clippings to improve the bloodlines of the offspring of them thirty-two mild mannered cows. Naturally, once Bull Durham realized this was to be his new home, he busted out of the truck trailer, hopped over the fence and introduced himself to that herd of lovely lady cows.
It was mid afternoon and young Louie was returning from the beaver pond in the north pasture carrying a mess of bream on a forked stick and his fishing pole thrown carelessly over his shoulder. He made notice that the thirty-two gentle cows were nowheres near, odd, because they were usually milling closely around him as he made the trip across their pasture. As he ambled along, he observed with languor the loveliness of the afternoon, he marveled at the beauty and freedom of the flittering butterflies, he listened to the pleasant dronings of the bumblebees in the clover heads, and he idly watched the large thunderheads making their aimless way across a light blue sky.
When ... suddenly ... the earth began to tremble and the ground beneath his feet began to shake. In the distance, a rumbling, thundering, ear-deafening roar became audible and quickly began to escalate, as if an avalanche of rock were careening down a mountain slope and he was standing at its base. Quite naturally he began searching the Heavens for the supersonic jet plane that was about to crash land on top of him ... but it was not an airplane ..... it was Bull Durham. Louie was startled by a sudden SNORT from behind, and spun about to confront one thousand pounds of turf-tossing, steam-snorting, foam-frothing, blood-hungry, man-eating, terrifying bull. Bull Durham was charging down upon him and close at his heels were thirty-two sharp horned, wicked-hooved, guess we had you fooled and now we're gonna stomp you, cows with their heads lowered, tails raised, and a new mission in life.
Momma got the grits on! Lickety-split ... the bream pole was levitating in mid-air as Louie made the second terrace at lightning speed .... but .... Bull Durham latched onto his breeches from behind and tossed him high ....... high into the branches of a long leaf pine. Where Louie clung like a cat to a curtain. Bull Durham was so angry that Louie had gotten away the he began to pummel the trees' trunk with his head and commenced stripping away the bark with his teeth. The thirty-two traitorous cows began pawing the turf and devouring the pine cones that Bull Durham shakened loose from the tree. Louie was oblivious to these post-mortem preliminaries, however, he was trying to comprehend why he'd suddenly fallen off the face of the earth and only barely managed to snag a grip on the branches of a pine tree to prevent himself from plummeting into the Heavens. He was painfully aware that he'd bruised his tailbone in the ascent and would be unable to make a descent. Not that he had any inclination to become fertilizer trampled into the soil at the base of the tree. He was satisfied to remain where he was. He was found at sunup the following morning by his Daddy and rescued appropriately.
Bull Durham owned the lease. The pasture became a no-man's land. Only one person had the audacity to challenge the bull's authority and that was Louie's younger brother, Roger. Rodger Dodger, the fastest mammal on two legs. Many an afternoon Roger would lead the cow herd in from the pasture to be locked in the corral overnight. ducking and dodging, and enjoying every minute of it, Rodger Dodger would come tearing like a Banshee into the corral with Bull Durham and his Femme Fatale stomping on his heels. Louie would latch the gate from outside while Roger escaped between the bars like a squirrel through a hollow in a tree. And so it continued ... day after day ... with Louie avoiding any confrontation with Bull Durham and his fatal dominion. Each day Bull Durham would walk the fence and send him an invite:
"Come on young feller," Bull Durham would chide. "I'll send you places. You'll visit the stars. You'll walk on the moon. You'll orbit the Earth like a satellite."
Late one summer afternoon the two brothers set off on a venture to acquire some frogs. Frog legs were a rare treat in the Avery household and the two brothers had planned the excursion months in advance. Roger carried the flashlight and Louie carried the frog-gigger, a sharpened nail embedded in the end of a long stick. It was quite a treacherous journey for the two young boys, bypassing the pasture they had to traipse along the creek bed, beneath the trees, squirming through vines, jumping puddles, and climbing over logs and water snakes, and cousins of water snakes, catching their faces in spider webs, slapping mosquitoes, shooing away deer-flies, infesting themselves with redbugs, and muddying their feet up to their shins. Not to mention leaving their scent on the forest floor for Hob-Goblins, Grizzly Bears, Hide-Behinds, and Bander-coots to find and follow once nightfall fell. The trip posed many dangers indeed, but there was only one thing those two frontier lads were leary of and that was Bull Durham. And Bull Durham followed the journey of the two boys, hugging close to the pasture fence.
"Won't you two boys come and play." Pleaded Bull Durham with a sad, sad look on his face. "I just want to be your friend. I've got a great big playground and when you get tired, my ladies here will tuck you into bed and tell you a beddy-time story."
Bull Durham's man-crippling entourage peeked eagerly over his shoulder, their sharp, wicked horns shimmering in the late evening light.
Night was falling around them as they reached the Beaver pond at the end of the north pasture. Bull Durham and his thirty-two team assault force slowly tired of their sport and meandered off to find some isolated hollow in which to bed down for the night. Louie and Roger sat down to await the arrival of the frogs and soon lost themselves in idle tale-bearing and speculative business ventures. The minutes dragged into hours and soon the sound of their voices were drowned out by the cacophony of frogs and countless other late-night orators on the stage of life. Then as the little hand of many a clock edged it's way onto nine, the two brothers began what was later to become known as The Great Bullfrog Massacre of 1957.
So abundant were the frogs along the banks of the pond and so skilled were the brothers who took turns with the frog gigger that the burlap sack Louie carried was soon burdened by the weight of the many victims. They were quite indulged in their sport when the night became quiet. Instantly. As if someone had reached out and turned a knob and shut off the sound. The flashlight had weakened and its light was petering out altogether. They had been busy for many hours. It was past midnight. There was no moon, only stygian darkness.
"Why is it so quiet?" Roger asked.
"I don't know," Louie answered. "Something must have scared them."
"What?" asked Roger.
"I don't know." answered Louie. "But something must have frightened them. Let's be quiet a few minutes and see if they start singing again."
The brothers stood quietly. The minutes ticked slowly by. There was not the slightest rustle of a leaf on the wind. There was not the slightest ripple upon the water. They each held their breaths for fear that their breathing might be heard by unfriendly ears. Finally, Roger spoke in a whisper. "We have bagged enough frogs. Let's go home."
"That sounds like a swell idea," Louie whispered back. "The hairs on the back of my neck are telling me that we are not out here alone. It must be bigger and meaner than both of us to have all them frogs scairt. If ten million singing bullfrogs are scared of it then I ain't ashamed to admit that I am also. Here brother, help me lift this bag of bullfrogs to my shoulder and we'll just easy foot it home."
"The flashlight is b..b..burned out," volunteered Roger. "W..w..we ain't g..g..gonna be able to s..sssseeee good 'nough to be able to f..f..find our way home through the woods."
Louie was silent a moment. "We can see the porch light on that distant hill across the pasture," he replied. "Our only recourse is to dash across the pasture and head straight for the light."
"Are you fergitting about B..b..bull Durham and them m..m..murderous c...cows," asked Roger. "If they catch us in the open, th..they'll kill us for sh..shure."
"I never forget about that bull," answered Louie. "But them cows cannot see us any better than we can see them. If we keep moving we'll be home in no time at all and they will be none the wiser. I have this uneasy feeling," he added as an afterthought, while rubbing the hairs on the back of his neck, " that if we don't get moving we're gonna have something besides Bull Durham to worry about."
He wasted these words on Roger, because his brother was already crawling beneath the pasture fence and aiming for the light on the hill. The porch light twinkled, calling to the boys like a friendly beacon to the helmsman of a ship that has been too long at sea. Louie quickly caught up with his brother, for neither wished to make the trip across that treacherous darkness alone.
As the two brothers progressed carefully through the night they became increasingly aware of the many sounds about them. The darkness was so thick all they could see was the light on the far hill. To their imaginations it seemed to close about them and appeared to be forcing the light farther and farther away from them.
"Do you want to run for it," asked Louie.
"L..L..Let's Truck," answered Roger. "If I ain't ahead of you then I will be running you over from behind."
The two brothers took the downslope into the hollow at a dead run. One to the left, one to the right. The heavily ladened burlap sack bouncing on Louie's shoulder was hardly a burden as his long legs strove to outrun those shorter but faster legs of his brother Roger. Behind them an owl hooted and the wind whistled past their ears.
Earlier that evening, as it was later determined by the two brothers, The Devil and a host of his evil companions had bedded down in this little hollow. It was an isolated spot where the fog rolled in early, the dew lay heavy on the grass, and come morning the mist was slow to rise. It was a secluded camping ground. What better place for those evil minions to scheme up deviltry while decent folks were in bed. At this late hour the meeting must have adjourned and the demons were rolled in their sleeping bags, fast asleep. Who knows what evil might have been collaborated that fateful night had not the brothers intervened.
As fate would have it, the two brothers swooped recklessly into the secluded hollow and, unbeknownst to them, right into the very middle of that demonic camp. The night was so dark one could not see his hand in front of their face. To make matters worse, Louie ran astraddle of the very sleeping bag in which the Devil himself had retired. The Devil, startled from his sleep let out a SNORT and exploded from the ground like a geyser with louie sitting astride of his shoulders. Louie, unable to detect what he had ran astraddle of, could only let loose with a pitiable, but desperate cry that echoed through the night and awakened the dogs in the neighboring counties.
Louie, for the second time in his life was being catapulted into the Heavens. But he now knew the importance of maintaining terra firma and put such a vise grip onto the shoulders of that Beast that he was set like a hook in the mouth of a fish. He also maintained his grip on the burlap sack, filled with skewered frogs and it swung above his head like a sixty-gallon sombrero. His free hand reached out and latched onto the curly hair between the Devil's massive horns as it swung it's head back and forth to loose itself of the hellion on it's shoulders.
Satan was so enraged he roared like a lion and steam was emmitted into the air by his flaring nostrils. His cloven hooves assaulted the earth with such force that it teetered ominously on it's axis. He did headspins, tailspins, cartwheels and somersaults. He bit at, he bucked at, he stomped at and he gored at the stick-tight attached to his shoulders but it could not be removed. He rechartered creekbeds, uprooted pine trees, shattered boulders and spun off whirlwinds like baby tornadoes, but Louie clung to his back like the cockleburs entangled in his tail.
When Roger heard Louie's frightened yell, he knew instantly that a Goblin or Bander-Coot had gotten his brother. He began banging on his flashlight, trying to get even the faintest beacon from it that might aid him to see what was happening. From the commotion he could discern that Louie was putting up a strong fight. "Hold on Louie," he yelled. "I'm coming to help. I have a frog gigger Mr. Goblin and I'm a'gonna pummel you to death.'
The flashlight came on momentarily and Roger caught a quick glimpse of Louie's ghostly features clinging to the shoulders of a hairy beast, then the blur of flying hooves, and lastly ....... the sharp whip-snap of a forked tail. "Gheezus," he exclaimed, "if I didn't know that was a Goblin, I'd think it was the Devil himself." He tightened his grip upon the frog gigger and stepped closer into the melee. "I just know I'm going to hate myself for this," he muttered. He heard the snorting of the massive lungs, felt the impact of the powerful hooves, and ... bravely ... valiantly he lunged forth with the frog gigger. It made contact with something large and fleshy and was violently wrenched from his grip. There erupted an almost simultaneous bellow of rage and pain. Such a sound as he had never heard. It could only come from the bowels of Hell. It was indeed the Devil with whom they dealt.
Roger became aware of other forms moving around him. He pointed his flashlight and miraculously it emitted a faint beam of light. Two glowing eyes glared at him from the darkness, and next to that was another pair. He turned himself in a slow circle and all around him in the darkness were fiery eyes glaring back at him. He was surrounded by the Devil's minions. The flashlight grew dim and petered out. As the darkness closed about him once more, Roger groaned loudly, the flashlight dropped to the ground, and he busted through the ranks of them demons and made like a bat for the house on the hill.
Louie also was convinced he was clinging to the back of the Devil. He clung on for fear of his life. He was faintly aware of Roger's voice calling to him in the distance. The sharp-pointed tail cracked like a whip above his head and stung him across the shoulders. The dangerous horns whipped back attempting to gore his flesh. The hot breath and the bellowing rage could only emerge from the throat of a Beelzebub. Louie was jarred, jerked, rattled, and rolled on. He was catapulted through the Heavens and plummeted beyond the bowels of the earth. But he hung on. He clung by his fingers, his toes and his teeth. The burlap sack had long since been shaken loose and mutilated bullfrogs rained down from the Heavens over an area the size of a lake.
So long did it seem that he was atop of that Beast that Louie began to consider the possibility that he just might win the battle. "I wonder if I have lasted eight seconds yet," he pondered. "Maybe I should ride the rodeo circuit if I ever survive this." At that instant the Devil shifted directions and repeated the entire ride in reverse. All the joints in Louie's body were reset, then shaken loose from the other direction.
"I wonder if he's winded yet," Louie queried while gathering his third wind. "Maybe the rodeo might be too tame for a veteran like me." At that moment the The Devil recomposed himself. He commenced to repeat the same two rides as before, simultaneously, in both directions. All the joints in Louie's body were reset and shaken loose once more. He was hanging as loose as a pair of over-hauls flapping in a heavy breeze on a clothesline wire.
"I'm going to be a celebrity," chuckled Louie as he gathered his fourth wind. "Whether I live or die here tonight, I'll be a legend hereafter. Such things can't be kept quiet. I'll be the talk of the party somewhere." But at that very instant the Devil let loose with such a bellow of rage such as Louie had never heard before. It exploded from the earth with the force of a 60 megaton bomb. Louie wasn't sure just how long he was in orbit, but he recalled the landing quite well. He landed on his back, with his breath on the outside trying to get back in. He dug his fists into the soft, hoof-churned soil in an effort to slow the spinning of the Earth on it's axis. As he lay there, The Devil approached and stood above him, staring into his face with wide fearful eyes. As the breath began to ease back into his lungs he became aware of a score of Demons crowded all about him in the spinning darkness, pressing close and looking on in awed silence ....................................................
.... ....................................... he LAUGHED in their faces. His voice ringing out loud and clear ..................................
Satan's eyes showed a glimmer of bewilderment. Then he spun about on his heels, gathered his confederate hosts about him, and fled into the night.
Louie gathered his wits about him and hobbled home. He began to whistle as he walked. When he entered his bedroom, his brother Roger was peeking out at him from under the bottom bunk. Recognizing Louie he explained, "I helped all I could brother, but I was overpowered by a hundred and fifty fire-spitting Demons and barely escaped with my life."
The next morning Louie was feeling as if he had dragged himself out from under an avalanche of boulders. He arrived at breakfast to hear his brother telling of their exploits. Roger told how Louie had wrestled the Devil to a standstill, while he had fought off a legion of Demons with a frog-gigger.
After breakfast Louie decided to venture out into the pasture and retrieve the flashlight and frog-gigger from the scene. Strangely, he did not feel conscerned about the bull being out there in the pasture with him. When he arrived on the scene of the previous night's foray he was astonished by what he saw. Hundreds of giant bullfrogs lay littered on the ground. Many horribly disfigured by the Devil's cloven hooves. "What a tragic waste," he thought. "That many frog legs might have fed an army."
The ground was deeply tilled where the battle had been fought, but the cattle must have arisen early for they had trampled out all indication that the Devil and his evil minions had visited the site. Louie had retrieved the flashlight and was searching about for the frog gigger, when ............ over the crest of the hill ......... trotted Bull Durham. Behind the bull followed his loyal compatriots.
The bull lifted it's head. The cows lowered their horns. "At any moment," thought Louie. "They will charge down the hill and stomp me flat." This day, however, Bull Durham was not being himself. He was hesitant ....... almost cautious. He tested the wind. He found there what he sought. And suddenly he turned on his heels and fled towards the north pasture with the lady cows close behind. As the cow herd disappeared over the crest of the hill, the frog gigger jabbed in Bull Durham's rump was BOUNCING .................... BOUNCING ..................... BOUNCING
THE END