THE GREEN OAK BOYS in The Quest for The Fullness of Life - An Adventure (Book 1)

THE GREEN OAK BOYS in The Quest for The Fullness of Life

- An Adventure (Book 1)

by

Herbert Ray Pitre

Copyright 2018 Herbert Ray Pitre,

All rights reserved.

Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com

http://www.eBookIt.com

ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-2993-9

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

A BAD WEEKEND

Chapter Two

THE FIGHT FOR SUPREMACY

Chapter Three

A DECISION OF FAITH

Chapter Four

EVERYONE KNOWS

Chapter Five

WHEN GOOD TURNS TOO BAD

Chapter Six

GIVE CREDIT WHERE CREDIT IS DUE

Chapter Seven

LIKE NOTHING EVER HAPPENED

Chapter Eight

SNAKES AND DEMONS

Chapter Nine

LOVE AND PAIN

Chapter Ten

STORIES, TREASURES AND LEGENDS

Chapter Eleven

THE GANG MEETS UNCLE DAVE

Chapter Twelve

DEALT A BAD HAND

Chapter Thirteen

A BAD JOKE

Chapter Fourteen

FROM THIEVES TO SAINTS

Chapter Fifteen

FROM TEARS TO FLAMES

Chapter Sixteen

THE SEARCH FOR THE FULLNESS OF LIFE

Chapter Seventeen

SAVED BY A STRANGER

Chapter Eighteen

BEING CURIOUS GETS DANGEROUS

Chapter Nineteen

LITTLE PEOPLE AND UNUSUAL DREAMS

Chapter Twenty

FROM PROPHETS TO HOGS

Chapter Twenty-One

ONE GOOD JOB AND ONE BAD JOB

Chapter Twenty-Two

THE RAMBLING FEVER BUG

Chapter Twenty-Three

LEARNING NOT TO JUDGE

Chapter Twenty-Four

A DREAM COME TRUE

Chapter Twenty-Five

THE THIRD PREACHER’S PROPHECY

Chapter Twenty-Six

FALL AND WINTER PLANS

Chapter One

A BAD WEEKEND

Four o’clock had come early for Lennard and I, and along with it was our big outing we had planned with the rest of the guys. But, first and foremost, before anything else, Bertha our milk cow, had to be milked. After that, we had to feed our two hogs, Arnold and Piggy Lou, who were kina our pets.

Then, coffee was to be made for Dad, who had to have it at the opening of the first eye. Finally, with everything finished, we begin tuning our instruments, and getting ready for the Green Oak Saturday bluegrass show. This is where all of Dad’s friends and kinfolk gathered at the house every weekend, to visit and enjoy one another.

My name’s Jay, and I pick the banjo, and if you ask me if I’m good, you’ll probably hear there’s none better. Then there’s Lennard, my brother, who picks like the dickens. That cat has won just about all the guitar picking contest around. Ole Wilco, he plays the bull bass, which is about as big as he is. Then there’s Vinny, our fiddle player, a champion fiddlier with lots of awards, and he’s the last to make up the Green Oak Boys, which is for now.

There are others who sit in and jam along with us, but they don’t travel or compete as we do. We are all around the same age, and pick mostly just for the fun of it. There is more to the Green Oak Boys than just being pickers, you know. We’ve had others we’ve taken in a-time-or-two, but had to let-um go, because our friends refer to um as, The River Rats.

But as for us, there’s myself, Harley, Gabe, Minnie-J (who is as big as a giant), Lenny, Wilco, and last but not least Arthur. Now before we go any farther, I’d like to add, that from the beginning of our friendship, we’ve make it a point to all gather when the group has been called to order. This gathering goes on every weekend, with everyone in the nearby towns waiting to hear what might take place, during what we call, our playtime.

Now playtime is the name given, for the simple fact that it is outside playing and, inside picking, which covers a lot of other activities also, some of which can’t be spoken of, so says the preacher.

But this particular Saturday, it seemed everyone has shown up, so we jam like crazy, picking and singing from sun-up to sundown. Afterwards, we all sit down and talk about what we are going to do for the rest of the weekend. Wilco wants to cook on our outside stove down by the river while, Gabe and Harley are at each other’s throats, arguing over Dave’s gun, which don’t even shoot.

This kind of stuff goes on all the time, which seems to be the norm for us. Yet, thinking about it, there really isn’t anything at all normal about us. And believe me, we have no regrets, why should we? We’re having fun the good ole fashion way.

Now, Harley is big, about the same size as Minnie-J, yet slower than all of us, (even though they both talk slower than they walk), except for this one unforgettable day. Lennard and I start walking off toward home, then quickly jump on our bikes and yell, Hey, let’s go to town, Harley! Immediately, he jumps on his bike and passes us right up.

There is just something about riding into town, that excites the devil out of us, which some folks say we were full of anyhow, but that didn’t bother us any. Saddling up, we all take off for a two-hour ride into what Mom refers to as, trouble time. We are bike riding for an hour or so when suddenly we notice the train has stopped on the outside of town.

Being innocent as we are, (yeah, right) we stop and open a door to one of the boxcars. It was in a twinkling of an eye that our world becomes bright as the noon sun. As the door slowly opens up, our eyes widen and sparkle, as we gaze with excitement at what we call The Mother Lode.

There it is, right in front of our eyes, cases of soda pops, cookies, and mountain water, (beer)! along with other mouthwatering goodies, just waiting to be consumed by some lucky bystanders. All we did was stand and stare, knowing that what we were about to do was wrong. I’m telling the truth, we tried hard to hold back, yet, it happened anyway.

I found myself climbing in and staring in awe, as I begin slobbering at the mouth. We are all equipped with baskets fixed to the front and rear of our bikes, and that made it easier for this evil act of gluttony to go farther. We then quickly begin to fill our baskets with soda pop, beer, and goodies, as we tried hard to balance our bikes with the load.

Were now tractor-trailer full and a-hauling, when suddenly, the sound of sirens fill the night air. Painfully, it now seemed at this moment that, our lives were fix-in to change forever. We all knew that they were coming after us, and we could swear to it. We then got to pedaling as fast as we could, till we made it onto this old dirt road with bushes on both sides.

It was darker than dark, although it was only six o’clock. We kept on a-going though, ‘til reaching an old house that gave the appearance of something straight from a horror show.

As we parked our bikes and stepped onto the old wooden porch, it hits us like a ton of butter, we then remembered, this was the old haunted house the old folks talked about. But knowing the police were on our tail, we just huddled together and walked slowly up to the strange old worn-down house.

The floors squeaked and knocked as Gabe turns on a flashlight he always carries in his bike basket. This is an important rule with the gang, that we all should carry a flashlight at all times. It was essential to always carry a flashlight, since we loved to camp and all. Yet tonight, it was different, we had slipped up miserably, because only two of us had one.

Smarty pants Lennard, now smiling, pulls his out and turns it on. He begins to shine around when, suddenly a rat runs right out in front of us, causing Harley to run into a wall. Not realizing our knees are now knocking together like machine guns, we all quickly glance at one another as if to say, so long old friend, I’ll see you in heaven.

Then again, you might know, out of nowhere this old dog runs right between us. Harley now passes out, falling right into Gabe and Wilco, making Lennard scream like a panther. I had already been praying for the Lord to forgive me, when thankfully, I felt he had, because I woke-up.

It’s the truth, I needed forgiveness for stealing those watermelons, and for putting the blame on Lennard, and also for that chicken I’d killed. Yea, sadly, It’s the truth, I really did do it, but like I said, I did repent, so let’s move on o.k...

When all is said and done, we glance at one another in wonder, trying earnestly to figure out where this awful smell was coming from. speaking not a word, we ignore one another, knowing were all at fault. As in every situation though, we do sit and talk about what we should next. We never are really without any brilliant ideas, I guess it’s because all of us always have the best idea anyhow!

We are all in agreement to stay the night in the old house now, knowing the cops were patrolling the main road waiting us out. The dog’s now long gone, and thankfully, we have plenty to drink and, our flashlights are still barely shining.

It’s like the old folks would say, all is well that ends well. Time passes on by, and all of us fall fast asleep, until that is, I’m awakened by a knock coming from another room.

One light is now completely out, while the other is barely shining. Suddenly realizing were not alone, we all begin looking at one another, as Arthur hands us each a beer, hoping it just might settle our nerves.

We don’t drink liquor at all, but tonight, there seemed a need. (no excuse) We begin gulping down the liquor we’d taken from that boxcar. We quickly turned the old house into a bar, not even realizing it. It then didn’t go to long ‘til we felt we were as big as giants. Isn’t it strange how deceitful liquor can be, and the trouble it can bring!

It wasn’t long that darkness gives way to daylight, and the knocking fades to silence, as we offer up to our friendly ghost, our last and, farewell beer. With daylight now shinning down upon us, it took an act of Congress to get us to stand up.

Somebody shoot us, I cry out, as we try and make it outside, without falling over one another. I tell Lennard I’m going home, cops or no cops, and he agrees with me, as does Harley and Gabe. It’s then we break out like turtles, moaning with each cycle of the pedal. Two of us hit the dirt moaning, then jumping right back up without complaining. It’s a quiet morning as I recall, the sun was beaming its sobering face upon each of us, as we finally reached home.

Were tired and hungry, yet, we have to listen to Mom rip into us like a bear after honey. We apologize, she then feeds us, then we head off for bed. Later on, we see Minnie-J sleeping in his truck, while Arthurs on the porch wait-in for my sister, knowing she’ll smile at him, making him think she likes him.

Arthur and Coo-der are both in love with her, she likes seeing um fighting over her, she really gets a kick out of it, and telling her friends. We then decide to go and wake Minnie-J up, and ask him if anyone was going to church this morning. This we all did with an act of good conscious. But the night had taken its toll on us, so again Mom chews our britches out. As always, we grab our instruments and begin to pick with a vengeance (a way of letting out steam). The night may have stolen our glory, but the Green Oak Boys know that there’s another weekend on the way!

The older folks say Oh, if only we could just become young again! There are some who say they’d never do it over, yet, others say they would. Well, my personal opinion is that, everyone would do it again if they had the chance. By golly, want-a know the truth, I guess nobody knows what they’d do!

Well anyhow, sometimes I think about all I’ve missed out on, but then again, I think about all the trouble I’ve caused myself also. I often wonder if it’s possible to change the course of history? My answer: you bet-cha it is, and the way is through Jesus Christ!

Brother, I don’t know, but can you just imagine how different it would make us today, if we all could, and would, change for the better? Oh well, I assume some things in this life are just not meant for us to know, but believe me, one day soon, all questions will be answered!

Chapter Two

THE FIGHT FOR SUPREMACY

The week at school has gone by quickly, no longer threatening our weekend adventures. Our teachers are also happy for the break, because they seem to have become sick of our nerve-racking emotionally damaging, and restless spirits.

It was on this one certain Friday evening, as I recall, that the smell of cooked butter beans filled the air, as Mom stirred the pot in her kitchen. I remember feeling really hungry that night and, ready to devour my portion of her renowned butter beans.

As I was about to put the spoon into the pot, Wilco suddenly came running in and, all out of breath shouting, Jay, we've been challenged. I quickly stood up and asked Wilco what the challenge was. Hardly able to speak he said, Just help me get the gang together, and then I’ll tell yawl.

When the rest of the gang finally arrived, Wilco made a mean looking face and said, Boys, we’ve been put up to a challenge.

What? yelled Gabe, as the rest of us joined him.

Quickly standing, we all swore to take the challenge on, not even knowing what the challenge was about yet. Wilco, though still fuming like a chimney, begin to express himself verbally, and let us know that pain had to be inflicted as soon as possible.

I know we all bark loudly at times, but, be it known, we bite hard; I guess you could say, similar to what we are in size. Still, we did act upon our challenge with the roar of a lion, and begin to call in the rest of the gang for a meeting of minds over matter.

When we finally assembled, the vote to take on the challenge was unanimous, and not one of us was going to back down. Without knowing anything about the challenge, we finally asked Wilco what it was? Looking at us with an eyebrow pulled up, he spoke boldly, The Tobacco Chewing Championship. With our mouths now wide open, we gazed into eternity for a minute or so, realizing that not one of us chewed or dipped. So, shaking hands in total denial, along with another unanimous decision, we decided painfully to take it on.

The Tobacco Chewing Championship is a major event, with major contestants who are all super chewers. This is the Kentucky Derby of all events, held by country boys from all around the country.

We knew that every inch of our manliness would be exposed in front of every young girl around who is looking for a real young man to take home to mama. Looking back, it was stupid, yet, this was just one of many ways, some found to kill time.

This dumb challenge, as I recall, is brought about when the Billy Goats (as we called them), who lived across the river, told Minnie-J, that they were just better men than we were. Well, men we aren’t, but, neither are they, with their little hairless goatees and long shaggy hair, they resembled wild Billy goats running wild and crazy along the riverbanks. It seems as long as I can remember, there was and, still is, this barbaric friction among the two tribes. Each would constantly send messages to one another of how superior the one is over the other, yet, nothing never happened, that is until now.

It’s just remarkable, to me, how difficult things can become. To them, success isn’t determined by how well one can talk or spell; it’s how well one can hunt or work. We are all hard workers anyhow, and normally, we did our own thing and, they would do theirs. Yet still, we were different somewhat than the boys from the city, and for some reason, we just didn’t hang with them due to their upbringing and indifference.

Well, looking back, they didn’t care to hang with us either, but thanks be to God, everything is different today. So, Saturday evening finally arrived, and the Billy Goats, along with the Green Oak Boys, are ready to kick off the event the whole countryside is waiting to see, which was, who the best chewers were.

Everyone is there; some are in coveralls, some in blue jeans, while others wore shorts and tee shirts, all carrying ice chests and sodas. The competition is now ready to begin, the tension is tight, while both sides wait nervously as the night darkens.

Finally, with the time now at seven o’clock, and everyone with tobacco in hand, the old cowbell is sounded. Oh my, tobacco is now being consumed with a vengeance. With the lip and jaw working to press out a cheek full of tobacco juice, it doesn’t take long to spit out the plug.

Picture this, the spits a-flying; two are crying, and some are choking, as we pray to the Lord for help, too free us from this stupid fix we’ve gotten ourselves into. We are now ahead by one chew and two dips, as we start sweating and heaving, yet still, there isn’t any sign of our competition slowing down.

Time is quickly now moving on, as darkness crepes slowly upon us, as we are all hanging on for dear life. Were all tried, and desperate to move, beneath the big light that is nailed to the oak tree in the yard, but sadly, few can barely crawl.

It’s a fight in the night and, the contestants are dropping like flies, while reputations are hanging on the line. Being now so late, I asked to call it a draw, but the leader of the River Rats break for a second to shout, Heck, no, it’s time to separate the men from the boys.

So be it! we yell, and with that said, Wilco without his right mind shouts, It’s time to swallow the juice! What the heck I thought, were already sick to death, but were not about to give up, so, we start a-swallowing.

As our stomachs begin to pull in and push out, they disgustingly begin to try and rid themselves of that nasty tobacco. We realized later, that our punishment had went on for over thirty minutes, more or less. Then suddenly, our mouths opened up, and the butter beans fly, covering all of us with our dinner from earlier that day.

I tell you what friend, there are no survivors! While everybody now is lying around and moaning, I figure one of us should stand and claim the victory. So barely lifting my heavy, swaying body, I manage to yell, We’ve won, and then fall into a deep, dead sleep.

Morning once again comes early, as the Billy Goats do their best to get up off the ground, crying in misery and shame. The slightest movement of a