stars than he had imagined the galaxy held. It was awesome in every sense of the word, and, oh, what stories these woods could probably tell. He reflected on the life of the animal inhabitants. How they must hate it when these two-legged party animals interrupted their tranquility. Nonetheless, there was no doubt some good times were had here.
Johnny had picked up three jobs that summer to help his mom pay for his college. He was the first of the family to make it. No doubt he had a lot invested, and he was not about to blow it. Johnny’s first goal was to learn and graduate. But at heart he was a guy who just loved being around people. It was important to him to fit in with his new friends. More than that, he had worked hard at football tryouts, and now it was time to play hard.
Buck spotted him first. “Johnny boy, you made it. We told you it was no hoax, man. Five bucks goes in the hat, grab you a cup, and I’ll prime the keg for you.”
Johnny tossed his five spot in the hat and smiled. He was not old enough to drink, but neither were half the people there. “Thanks Buck. Man, this is great. What do I have to do to get in that game over there? It looks like fun.” Johnny was not much of a drinker really, but the drinking game promised to bring him into the thick of the party quickly.
Buck looked from Johnny to the funnel-like contraption where massive amounts of beer were poured in one end and consumed by the participant on the other. It was a sure-fire way to get a fast buzz, or more for the uninitiated. Buck shrugged and looked back at Johnny.
“You’re next, buddy. Pace yourself though, man, we don’t want you hammered too early. You do want to be able to remember at least part of this night in the morning.”
And so began the legendary first Farm party for Johnny Clark. For it was on that night, well past midnight, full of intoxicated confidence, that young Johnny picked up Casey Capps’ guitar and started strumming it. He had kicked around some chords before and played a little in a high school band, but tonight he was a star.
“If I leave here tomorrooow, ow, would you still remembeeer, er, meeeee.” Johnny closed his eyes and belted out all he could remember of Free Bird. He saw Bic lighters being pulled out and swaying in the night air as he crooned the words. It was his best singing voice ever. The other noises at the party stopped and all eyes were on him. They were so into his music that they were part of him, willing him on. He was soaring with the magnitude of all the stars above. He could feel his seemingly weightless body being lifted from the ground, higher, higher.
Then he opened his eyes and saw that, as he had imagined, he was no longer standing on the ground. He then noticed that he was lifted up above the crowd by a very angry Casey Capps. Casey held him by his shirt collar with one hand and was glaring at him with obvious disdain. Casey stood a good six foot three inches and weighed over 240 pounds. The burly man appeared ready to tear Johnny into little pieces. He was the starting fullback and the strongest dude on the team.
Casey growled, “Just who are you, little man? And what do you think you are doing with my guitar? Nobody touches my guitar, not my girlfriend, not my brothers, not my mother. You’re dead, kid.”
And with that, in a flash, Johnny’s night ended. The last thing he saw was four hairy knuckles coming at him, then darkness.
Hours later Johnny awoke in the most pain he had ever experienced, without remembering what caused his misery. The only good thing about the pain was that it proved he was not dead. There was no way death could make one’s head throb like this. Johnny really did not want to open his eyes, but he knew he had no choice. Chiefly because he had no clue where he was, or how he got there. Anticipating the inevitable result, he slowly opened one eye.
He had been right in dreading the outcome. The steams of sunlight filtered through his
Johnny had picked up three jobs that summer to help his mom pay for his college. He was the first of the family to make it. No doubt he had a lot invested, and he was not about to blow it. Johnny’s first goal was to learn and graduate. But at heart he was a guy who just loved being around people. It was important to him to fit in with his new friends. More than that, he had worked hard at football tryouts, and now it was time to play hard.
Buck spotted him first. “Johnny boy, you made it. We told you it was no hoax, man. Five bucks goes in the hat, grab you a cup, and I’ll prime the keg for you.”
Johnny tossed his five spot in the hat and smiled. He was not old enough to drink, but neither were half the people there. “Thanks Buck. Man, this is great. What do I have to do to get in that game over there? It looks like fun.” Johnny was not much of a drinker really, but the drinking game promised to bring him into the thick of the party quickly.
Buck looked from Johnny to the funnel-like contraption where massive amounts of beer were poured in one end and consumed by the participant on the other. It was a sure-fire way to get a fast buzz, or more for the uninitiated. Buck shrugged and looked back at Johnny.
“You’re next, buddy. Pace yourself though, man, we don’t want you hammered too early. You do want to be able to remember at least part of this night in the morning.”
And so began the legendary first Farm party for Johnny Clark. For it was on that night, well past midnight, full of intoxicated confidence, that young Johnny picked up Casey Capps’ guitar and started strumming it. He had kicked around some chords before and played a little in a high school band, but tonight he was a star.
“If I leave here tomorrooow, ow, would you still remembeeer, er, meeeee.” Johnny closed his eyes and belted out all he could remember of Free Bird. He saw Bic lighters being pulled out and swaying in the night air as he crooned the words. It was his best singing voice ever. The other noises at the party stopped and all eyes were on him. They were so into his music that they were part of him, willing him on. He was soaring with the magnitude of all the stars above. He could feel his seemingly weightless body being lifted from the ground, higher, higher.
Then he opened his eyes and saw that, as he had imagined, he was no longer standing on the ground. He then noticed that he was lifted up above the crowd by a very angry Casey Capps. Casey held him by his shirt collar with one hand and was glaring at him with obvious disdain. Casey stood a good six foot three inches and weighed over 240 pounds. The burly man appeared ready to tear Johnny into little pieces. He was the starting fullback and the strongest dude on the team.
Casey growled, “Just who are you, little man? And what do you think you are doing with my guitar? Nobody touches my guitar, not my girlfriend, not my brothers, not my mother. You’re dead, kid.”
And with that, in a flash, Johnny’s night ended. The last thing he saw was four hairy knuckles coming at him, then darkness.
Hours later Johnny awoke in the most pain he had ever experienced, without remembering what caused his misery. The only good thing about the pain was that it proved he was not dead. There was no way death could make one’s head throb like this. Johnny really did not want to open his eyes, but he knew he had no choice. Chiefly because he had no clue where he was, or how he got there. Anticipating the inevitable result, he slowly opened one eye.
He had been right in dreading the outcome. The steams of sunlight filtered through his
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