Bad Day

What's all this blood doing on my hands? What's all this blood doing on my hands? I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm afraid to move. Where's my friend Joey? Where is he? Why is there blood everywhere? My hands hurt, my head is spinning, and my vision is just not right. I still have my glasses on, but something is very, very wrong.

"Mom, when can I call Joey?

"At ten o'clock dear."

"Why? We were planning this since Wednesday. He's up!"

"Well, you just have to wait. It's only polite to wait until ten o'clock in the morning before calling on a Saturday."

"Why are you so mean? I hate waiting!"

"Sorry Cha, you and Joey just have to wait until 10 A.M."

"Can I call to see if he's up yet?"

"No!"
"Fine, I'm gonna go pack. Bye!"

"Ok, it will be ten before you know it honey."

"I hate you sometimes."

"Hey Joey"

"Hey Chuck"

"Are we going to play Cowboys and Indians today?"

"Yeah, wanna come over?"

"Yeah, when can I?"

"Anytime."

"How about now?"

"Sure, my mom says that's ok."

"Cool, I'll be over soon."

"Bye."

"Joey's mom says I can come over now mom."

"Ok, you ready to go?"

"Yeah, can we go right now?"

"Sure, we're off like a herd of turtles."

"A terd of turtles . . . hehehehehehehe"

"Let's go gross boy."

"Hey Joey, who's gonna be the Indian?"

"Not me, I was the Indian last time."

"Come on man, I hate being the Indian."

"Sorry Charlie."

"Fine, You're gonna lose anyway."

"Sorry Charlie, Cowboys always win; unless I'm the Indian."

"Not this time Joey. I have tattoos. I'm gonna be a warrior."

"Oh? Where did ya get the tattoos from?"

"This big kid on the bus gave them to me for free."

"Oh yeah, can I have some?"

"Nope! I'm the Indian, remember????"

"Yeah, yeah, you suck Chuck. Ok, let's get ready then."

"Ok."

I reach into my pocket and pull out five tiny tattoos. There are two skulls and cross bones, just like on a pirate ship, but these are in color. The other three are large blue eyes.

"Are you ready yet Injun???"

"Hold on." I have to put my tattoos on. I lick the first one and press it against my left cheek. I mutter to myself, "Man, these things taste awful" I sure hope these look cool. Then the second, third, and forth go on my forehead. I put the last one on my right cheek. Cool, two crossbones on each cheek and three eyes on my forehead.

"I'm ready. Let's go."

"Ok." Joey walks from behind the house to meet me in front of his bright yellow house. I can remember when his dad, Joey, and I painted this house. Joey and I had to work on the ground, because his dad wouldn't let us use the ladder. I hate being small.

"Yo man, those tattoos didn't come out too clear."

"What do you mean Joey?"

"Well, they didn't really leave tattoos on your face man."

"Shoot, really? These tattoos tasted so bad and they still don't work? Oh well, they were free, so I guess it's not a biggie."

"Here you go Chuck. Have one of the sandwiches my mom made for us."

"Thanks Joey. I'll eat it while I wait for you to come to me. You're gonna get it in this game man!"

"Whatever" .

Joey and I have been playing Cowboys and Indians since we were in kindergarten. He introduced me to the game for the first time during play period. It's ok. I love to run around in the woods chasing somebody. We are best of friends. We never fight for long. We are both love to win, but we never get that angry at each other.

Today is such a beautiful day. The sky is blue with a few fluffy, white clouds, and the sun is bright. The trees are so green. I really love being alive, except for the bad taste those tattoos left in my mouth.

Joey and I cross the creek running by his house. Our playground is on the other side. There are tons of great places to hide on our play area: cracks in rocks, hills, bushes, and trees to climb.

Joey has a six shooter and a rifle. I have only one rifle. We each have pocket knives to make boobie traps. We've never been able to make good ones though . . . not like MacGyver can.

"Ok, Chuck, you go that way and I'll go this way. Count to a hundred before you come after me and I'll count to a hundred before I come for you."

"Ok. Oh one thing Joey. You're gonna die!"

"Not since last summer Chuck. On your mark, get set, GO!"

Joey runs fast into the woods. I just walk the other way. Today is so gorgeous. The trees are greener than I've ever seen them. But, I guess it's the middle of July in Upstate NY. Oops, ouch. "Damn!" I just tripped over a rock while staring at the tree tops. My hand hurts since it broke my fall. "Shit!" My hand is bleeding. Oh well, I love blood. It looks so cool. Luckily, it's just a scratch. My parents would be pissed off if I had to get stitches again. My mom is always giving me crap for getting hurt so often.

"I never once had to go to the hospital when I was a kid."

Well, she didn't live in the country and didn't have fun! The blood has stopped and I'm at 100 now. "Time to hide and wait for Joey." Wow, perfect place.

There's a spot just over there. I can hide behind a rock and spring. Joey will have to come this way, since there is a gully ten yards behind the rock. He's a wuss; he wouldn't be able to climb up here for sure. I can eat my sandwich and get that bad taste out of my mouth. That stupid big kid gave me some bum tattoos that only gave me a sticky mouth.

Wow, I'm really hungry even after this sandwich. I should have eaten a bigger breakfast like my mom told me to do. I hate it when she's right.

"Where is he?" Oh, my timer is only on five minutes and counting. Joey and I both have stopwatches. Maybe we won't get each other before our two hour limit is up. That's never happened before. It sure feels like I've been out here a while. Hmmmm. Time to make a spear. I pull out my new lock-blade. The knife is all aluminum, except for the tempered steel blade. I really like this light knife; it's the sharpest one that I've had yet. I bend a branch down and slice at it until I've pared it off the tree. "It sure is a nice day out here today." My hands are shaking some, but it's not cold out. Must be nervous.

Got it. Perfect. This branch will make a fine spear. Wow, this is fun" I love playing Cowboys and Indians. Joey is gonna loose. I have the perfect spot this time. Time to sit down and make this spear. It's gonna be the best. The blade is so sharp. Good thing that it locks in place. I've cut myself so many times with my old knife that didn't lock.

Click, click, click, click. "Gotcha!"

"Shit!"

"Hahahahahaha you're dead Chuck"

"How did you find me so fast? And you were so quiet."

"Well, it's been about a half hour Chuck."

I look down at my timer, and it has been thirty-five minutes and forty-five seconds. Shit, time sure flew by since the last time I checked my timer. "I can't believe you won already."

"Yup. You suck Chuck."

"Ok. Ok. Ok. You won the first one.

"Yup."

I grabbed my half-worked stick and put away my knife. "Let's do it again."

"Sure."

"To 100 again?"

"Let's count to 200 this time. You didn't get far on a 100 last time Chuck."

"Fine. You're gonna be dead next time Joey."

"Whatever Chuck. You haven't won all summer. Even at your own place, you loose."

"On your mark, get set, GO!"

This time, I took off like a bat out of hell. Wow, I'm running fast! Cool, the woods are just flying by in a blur of brown, green, blue, and white. I love running through the woods. I can't remember what number I was on. Oh well, must be 200 by now; my timer reads ten minutes. "Shit!" Where am I? Oh, there's Joey's yellow house split up by the trees growing in my vision's path. I must be about a mile out, way up the hill behind the house. I should probably walk back some to a closer spot. Joey won't want to look this far away.

Every step is loud. So loud. I can't believe Joey could sneak up on me making this spear and not even hear him; especially when my steps are so loud. No matter. I'm gonna win this time. I hate loosing to him. "Nice." Here's a perfect spot for me to finish my spear and keep an eye on the scene.

Joey's house has a really cool waterfall near his house. It's only about thirty feet high, and no water runs over it during the summer. I edge myself along a path that ends in a break in a large wall of rock beside the waterfall. I'm visible from below, but Joey won't get me. You have to be close enough to strike the person with a knife in order to win. The guns are just for image. We decided that we couldn't shoot each other from a distance, since there was no way of telling if either of our aims were true.

Joey and I pushed off all the loose rocks from the perch earlier this summer. It's a really cool spot to just hang out with Joey and talk; and a good spot for an Indian. Time to finish. Man, what's up? I'm completely wider awake than I've ever been. Must have had a great night's sleep. I can feel the blood racing around my body at 98.6 miles per hour, or is that my body temperature?

Done. My spear is three feet long with a nice sharp tip on both ends. I stripped all the bark off too. It's not slippery anymore. I put some dirt on the staff to soak up the sap. Joey's dad taught me this. He's a conservation officer. He catches deer jackers.

"Time to go find Joey." I stand up and grab my gun. Whoa. My head is spinning. My mom says I have low blood pressure. "Ahhhhhhhhhh . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

"Shit!" That hurt so much. Damn IT! I can't believe that I fell. Ouch. My hand is bleeding again. Tears flood my eyes, but my wails are not audible. My body hurts so much. There is blood all over me. My arms hurt so much. "Uh . . . ." My head is spinning and my vision is blurry. The trees seem so close to my face. I wave my hand in the air to touch the trees, but they return to a distance. Thug, I drop my head into the dirt. My eyelids are heavy with pain and wet with water and salt. The trees are close again. I wave them away.

My head is throbbing, but not bleeding. My arms are sore, but the cuts are only superficial. My legs are fine. My torso has a significant cut on it, but there is no need for stitches (I hope). "Uhhhhhh. . . ." I pry myself up with my spear, which landed next to my left arm. Oh shit, that was a really bad fall. I'm so lucky to have gotten out of this one without anything worse.

Everything is blurry. My glasses are gone. I search around on the ground looking for them, feeling around like one of the three blind mice. Here they are. The lenses are plastic; good thing that my parents pay the extra buck for safety. The frames are bent but wearable.
The glasses helped clear up the scenery. However, everything is really screwed up. The trees look amorphous. The leaves are touching my face, but I can't wipe them off! "Arrrrrrrrggghhhh" I scratch my arm furiously to get the damn leaves off, and they leave temporarily. I really need to get to Joey's. I'm really scared. I have a big headache that makes me woozy.

I walk without the spear as a cane. My legs survived the fall without anything but bruises. No twisted ankle, broken foot, or gash. Shit, the leaves are back. I gotta get home. Something is really wrong. Something is really wrong. Something is really wrong. Something is really wrong.

I wonder where Joey is. I hope he finds me. I'm really cold now. My timer says it's about 2:15 and twenty seconds in the afternoon and my stomach is hungry. Oh shit, that's the timer. It's only about 1:30 P.M.

I don't know how long I've been sitting here. I can't see Joey's house anymore. I don't know which direction I should head. The trees have been getting worse. Not only do they smack me in the face and scrape my arms, but they are following me. I don't understand. I don't understand.
I'm too scared to move. This log is just fine. I'm gonna wait for someone to find me. My arms are crossed on my lap and my eyes are staring at the treetops which claw my face. But everytime I raise my hand to push them away, they move to a safe distance. The sun is so bright; my eyes must squint to see without pain. I hate today; nothing has gone right.

What's that? I heard something. Maybe it's Joey. "Hey Joey!" I turn around and there's a huge fuckin' bear. I've never seen a bear before. It's huge. So Huge. "Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrhhhhhh" The bear growls something that resembles the sound my stomach makes when I'm hungry but only so much louder. Oh shit. Oh shit. I'm dead. I'm dead.

I run. I run so hard. I drop my gun and spear and run. I thought that I ran faster than I ever had before, but this time my feet carried my body so fast. I'm too afraid to turn around. The trees are everywhere. Wait, there's a clearing. The edge of the woods. Hurray!
"Ahhhhhhhhh . . .." At the edge of the woods my legs collapse and I tumble down to the ground. My right thigh lands on a old log but not that old. "Ouch!!!" My leg hurts a lot now. I'm gonna die! The bear is gonna eat me!

No bear. So lucky. No bear . . . No bear. Ouch, my leg is killing. I can barely pull myself without the passing out from the pain. I pull myself to the clearing. It's a field. I don't see Joey's house. I don't know where I am. What if a farmer comes by with a mower and mows me up in his tractor? My mind is flying with words, images, thoughts, people, things, and colors.

The grass is thick and tall. The sky is a brilliant hue of blue. There are no clouds; the sun is burning my eyes. I blink and can't remember when I started staring at the sun. Today is so weird. I've never felt like this. Did I hit my head really hard?

I stop. There's a sound. I can hear someone or something in the grass. "Joey?" My voice is so weak. I'm thirsty, sore, and hoarse from screaming at the bear. Nobody responds. It's the bear coming back to eat me. It's the bear! The BEAR!. I grab for my pocket and pull out my knife. The tempered steel blade locks. The steel is only about four inches long butt very sharp. I'm dead. I'm dead.

I listen carefully to the trampling of grass. I don't want to scream, since the bear will know where I am. Shit. I'm dead. It's getting nearer. I can feel the footsteps slam against the ground. This is such a bad day. Ok. I pull myself together just a bit. I refocus my eyes off of the waving grass tops. I can't move my right leg much, but I can manage to crouch with great pain; good thing that I'm not a cry-baby.

I see the black bear coming. It's coming after me. I spring. The bear roars. My blade is in front. I slice deeply. The blade swipes separating everything in front of it. I hit. I feel resistance. The knife digs deep into flesh. I hear a howl. I pull out my knife and stab again and again and again and again and again. My leg flares with pain. Uhhhhhh. . . and everything goes black. I can't keep my eyes open.

I wake up and the sun is behind the trees. The sky is still blue. There is a large croissant shaped cloud above me that melts before my eyes. The grass is talking to me. Oh my God. My hands are bloody and there is so much blood on the ground. The bear must have left.

What's all this blood doing on my hands? What's all this blood doing on my hands? I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm afraid to move. Where's my friend Joey? Where is he? Why is there blood everywhere? My hands hurt, my head is spinning, and my vision is just not right. I still have my glasses on, but something is very, very wrong.

I lay in pain. My leg hurts so much now. I can't even roll over onto my back. I lay facing West with the bright sun setting. My eyes hurt, so I close them. My leg is lifeless, except for the searing, unbearable throb coming from it. Today is a really bad day.

Today is a really bad day. But it's not as bad as my best friend's day was.