Sick Days
Scott Mclean
I’ve told some of these before but I’m trying to get a bunch recorded before I’m gone.
Steve and I would sometimes develop mysterious ailments that kept us from going to school but we miraculously recovered from by the time the folks got home. I don’t know how many remember the morning moneyman movie with Bob Iver, but something like a good Abbot and Costello film brought on sudden sickness.
A big flock of quail or some pheasants on Cowiche Mountain or along the railroad tracks could also make us Ill. We’d have to make sure the birds were cleaned and in the freezer before Mom got home though. Mom wondered why we didn’t seem to run out of game birds!
This next one I’ve touched on before. When they changed the Cowiche grade to three lane they repaved and widened Summitview in front of our house. Steve and I were tossing a football around and a real jerk on the paving crew made a bad comment. He said to Steve “Hey little girl, do you squat to pee?” That was a declaration of war.
Dad heard the exchange and came down. The guy started to mouth off but thought better of it.
We immediately started feeling ill. We snuck three buckets of the rock hard flowering crabapples upstairs to the bedroom nearest the road. Our wrist rocket slingshots went in there as well.
The next morning we were struck by bubonic plague or some other terrible malady.
After the folks left and the paving crew showed up we started launching crabapples over the boxelder tree. Steve’s first shot plopped in the hot asphalt near the crew. My first shot hit the mouthy one from the day before right on his hard hat.
I must explain that while we were good with the slingshot, hitting anything while arcing over the tree was what they called shit house luck. We had the general range and launched about 4 volleys. The crew was mad but looking like they might duck for cover. One finally came to the front door and knocked but nobody was home.
We waited about 15 minutes and launched about 4 more salvos. We figured there was no more fooling them and while the angry worker was banging on the front door we snuck out the basement door. We went into Bogle’s orchard and launched a number of direct shots from a different direction. We knew they stung having hit each other with them.
We then retreated up Cowiche Mountain and they had no chance of catching us on our home territory. That ended our adventure.
A local guy, Otto McGehee worked for the county and told Dad the crew had complained. I guess he told them that someone must have done something stupid to piss those McLean boys off. Never a good idea!
Dad did ask us a few days later if we’d done a little target practicing.
Angry Cowiche boys, what can I say?
Bye again. Further adventures in stupidity later.