SUDDENLY

He dreams of his name in the Broadway lights
A different kind of life he had in his sights
He achieved his goals by diving head in
The addiction of pleasure was his only sin
A disease that found a way in that door
He fought with lovely rage against Samuel’s whore.

Suddenly we must say goodbye
Suddenly this time as gone by
Suddenly we stand here and cry
And here our song dies… so suddenly.

A father’s heart that was simply to weak
Always dreaming of days when he was at his peak
The failures of fatherhood and marriage he bore
His sons finding ways to open his door
Unaware that the sands of time were flowing fast
He finally found redemption at last.

Suddenly we must say goodbye
Suddenly this time as gone by
Suddenly we stand here and cry
And here our song dies… so suddenly.

Light slowly flickers in the dark of night
Resisting the temptation to give up the fight
Reaching up her hand; she pleads for His grace
All the same, her kin see the pain upon her face
A matriarch who bares the heart of all
Her family gathers while her autumn leaves fall.

Suddenly we must say goodbye
Suddenly this time as gone by
Suddenly we stand here and cry
And here our song dies… so suddenly.

So suddenly…
So suddenly…
So suddenly…

PLEASE CHEAT... IT'S EXPECTED OF YOU

“Life is short. Have an affair.” is the motto that greets every individual that visit’s a particular online dating website. This particular dating service focuses on married individuals and they claim to have more than 4.5 million members; which would indicate that cheating is becoming more of an accepted practice among marriages in this country. We live in a society that promotes infidelity and we are constantly bombarded by images of affairs. Most of us know the sordid details of Presidential hopeful, John Edwards or late night show host, David Letterman. We even look back on and admire the 25 year love affair of Spencer Tracey and Katherine Hepburn along with the tryst of John F. Kennedy and Marilyn Monroe. We watched in anticipation, as the marriage of Prince Charles and Lady Diana fell into shambles as both parties admitted to extramarital affairs. We thrive on the tabloid scandals of our celebrities time and time again until it comes to a point where it’s almost expected of them to cheat. And that’s where the real threat begins. When our expectations is for our icons and celebrities to commit adulterous affairs then the consequences of our pop culture driven society usually begins to imitate art. Now I am not placing blame on pop culture or celebrity because I do believe that most people know the difference between right and wrong, and I do believe that when a choice is made, it’s usually a choice that a person wants to make. I do believe however, that we thrive to be our own exciting story and when we see these things happening in the media and celebrity world, then a cycle begins that can rarely be broken.
Growing up we’re told by our parents that one of the things we do in life is to get married and live happily ever after which is one of the biggest lies that we are unable to cope with as adults. We’re never told as children how difficult it is to sustain a marriage and what’s worst is how warped our ideology about marriage is. I don’t think we are clearly taught about the obligations of marriage. We tend to thrive for all the glitter and ignore the base of reality. We live for the wedding and the dress of the bride and ignore the waking up to bad breath and moody nights. So what happens to us when the glitter fades and reality sets in? What options are presented to us? Apparently one option now is to go online and for a small fee, you can get hooked up with other married men and women who are looking for a little action on the side as well. I worry about the consequences that these online options might have on society and the continuing decline of the type of marriage that is a monogamous union.
I don’t have the desire to ever marry again and I can seriously say right now that I doubt that the opportunity of marriage will ever present itself to me. I look to the couples in my life and I see so many of them that are unhappy or “trapped” and so many others that I know that either one or the other is cheating. I think these online dating services are taking advantage of that “trapped” feeling that these individuals might be experiencing. I also have my doubts that I have enough character and strength to commit myself to one person and I don’t ever want to be the reason why my possible marriage would fail. I don’t want to be the person that pays a small fee to cheat. I don’t want to be anything like my adoptive father, who cheated on my mother several times throughout their marriage and I don’t think I could handle the shame of something like that. Now that my opposition to marriage is clearly stated I want to share what I think a marriage that I would be in would be like.
If I ever decided to marry another individual, (again… highly… and I do mean highly unlikely) I would seriously have to be in love. I will say now that I don’t think I have ever been in love… I have loved to a certain level but never to the point where I thought my boyfriend/girlfriend was the one I would be with the rest of my life. I would have to feel comfortable with my character, with the trust I have with this individual, and most importantly my commitment to the relationship and the responsibilities that are included. We would have to have total communication and the ability to express ourselves in any situation that might arise before us. I would have expectations on the marriage that neither one of us would cheat, that we would never bring in another person to join us in sexual games, and that we would always work together as a team even on those dark days when we want nothing to do with each other. I expect both of us to love ourselves as much as we love each other and to always respect each other like we respect ourselves.
Those are my expectations about marriage, as influenced by Christian morality they are, and I will not relent any of those values. That is most likely why these values feed into my opposition into getting married because deep down inside of me is that fear that I would not live up to my own expectations and everything would fall apart. Plus the value and freedom that comes with single hood is so enticing that I don’t think I would want to go without it. There’s that part of me that likes going out to have a random fuck or to fool around with friends on a drunken night. There’s that part of me that doesn’t want to hear the voice of another person in my bed the next morning. There’s that part of me that doesn’t want the responsibility of caring about another person that would interfere with my daily activities. Sometimes I just enjoy being in a self centered bubble.
So my back and forth on the issues of marriage might continue to swing or I might actually one day decide to either go one way or another but this will remain the same: I do not understand any organization that would promote cheating in a marriage. For those people that have open marriages and both parties are aware of activities outside of the marriage then more power to you. If a marriage decides to invite a third individual into their bedroom for sexual liaisons then you have my total support, (heck I even know a couple of marriages that I would love to be a boy toy in). I understand the whole concept that there are different kinds of marriages and I have respect for them all. I just have a distaste for organizations, the media, and pop culture that promote the breaking of trust. And that is what every kind of marriage comes down too… Trust.


After I wrote “Please Cheat… It’s Expected of You”, I realized that I have been in a situation where I was “the other man” and I was the catalyst for the breaking down of another relationship. There might be individuals that label me a hypocrite for the values that I would have on my own marriage while my values in other areas of my life might be lacking. The only thing I can say is: I’m a work-in-progress. I think that we all need to realize how complicated we are as human beings. We have so many ideologies within us and sometimes they do conflict with each other… the most important thing is that we recognize our own conflicted differences inside ourselves and give each of them the proper respect that they deserve. I don’t ever mean to hurt other people and I totally realize that good people sometimes cheat. I will throw it out there right now that I have even cheated in a relationship while I proclaim that I hate cheaters! So for all the cheaters out there that have failed in their relationships… I stand among you learning a very difficult lesson.

LINGERING MEMORY

Norb Andy’s, a popular pub in Springfield, Illinois had closed down a little more than three years ago. The building at a rich history that included being a funeral parlor that remained opened twenty four hours a day during the 1919 flu epidemic had killed hundreds of people in Springfield. According to popular legend, Abraham Lincoln spent many nights at the residence during his days as a bachelor . The pub actually got it’s name sake from Norbert Anderson, who bought the building in 1937 and ran it for the next forty-two years. The building was also a music shop, a beauty parlor, and a boarding house at points during it’s rich history.
The State Journal Register recently ran a front page story on the grand reopening of Norb Andy’s after a three year silence on the pub. The newspaper asked residence to submit memories that they had of Norb Andy’s and I actually had something that has lingered in my head about my adoptive father. My memory of the place was published along with several others in the October 17th, 2009 edition of the newspaper. It’s something that I hold close.
“My father, David Farmer, was a cook at Norb Andy’s, and my brothers and I would eat there often, usually waiting for him to get off of work. During college, I would visit the establishment often with my friends, especially if they were having a jazz night while my dad was cooking away in the kitchen. He would come out several times to joke around with us before returning to the kitchen to get his job done. I remember everyone there calling him “Dave”, and it always seemed that he had a great relationship with everyone that worked there; they were a team. My brothers, Cory and Craig, who were just teenagers at the time would spend weekends with Dad, and I’m sure they feel that Norb Andy’s was a second home for them since it was big part of Dad’s life.
Our father passed away in January of 2001, and I will never forget that the owners of Norb Andy’s came to the memorial service to pay their respects. They were very kind to us during this difficult time and we appreciated everything they did for us. They made sure that we knew that our dad was a part of their family at Norb Andy’s.
I visited Norb Andy’s one last time before they closed and ordered a cheeseburger with white American cheese and French fries with lots of ketchup. It was the exact same meal that I had with our father days before his death. A woman at Norb Andy’s recognized that I was Dave’s son and told me that the meal was on the house. I will never forget that, and I will always hold Norb Andy’s as a very special place.”

THE AMERICAN SOLDIER

I engaged in yet another debate over the war in Iraq yesterday and if anyone knows me then they know the hatred I have for this conflict. I believe that this has been one of the worst wars that we have engaged in because it’s a war that was so unnecessary. It surprises me today that more than five years after the war started that so many people still believe that Iraq had weapons of mass destruction and they had something to do with the attacks on our country on September 11th 2001. I also believe that the war in Iraq is the reason why the war in Afghanistan has continued to crumble through our fingers and those that are responsible for the Sept. 11th attacks are still hiding in the shadows due to the administration of both Bush and Obama. The debate that I had with this certain individual became very heated and almost nasty. I usually don’t allow my emotions to get the best of me but it disturbs me to see so many people that didn’t have to die in this war. The individual said I really had no right to judge anything that has been happening in Iraq because I have never served in the military. He is correct on this, I have never served in the military and I have never had the desire to serve in the military. I am a true diplomat and I believe that most everything can be solved through diplomacy and communication. I do believe that there are times when war is necessary but it should only be used as the last resort or in case of the Holocaust, to save lives. I also know, that if my country asked me to serve and they needed me then I would do it because I love this country and I would never flee my civic duty. I’m also am going to say that I SUPPORT 110% our men and women that are serving all over this globe including Iraq. They are always in my thoughts and I know they are doing their very best for what our country as asked of them. I don’t support this war but I do support THEM! I will NEVER be accused of not backing our men and women because each and every one of them are heroes and I will not tolerate critics that say otherwise.
The individual also said that I didn’t have a right to “attack” the conflict in Iraq because I don’t know what it’s like to live with the consequences of war. I can’t possibly understand what war does to a population and the consequences it has on all individuals that were involved including our troops. I thought about his words for a few hours last night and I even woke up this morning thinking about them and I began reflecting on Jim Morgan.
It was the day before my 14th birthday when Morgan married my mother. Looking back on it, it seems like he just showed up one day and he became a major part of my teenage life. I had a very complicated relationship with my father and was grateful that my parents divorced but then Morgan entered the picture and I didn’t know what to expect or how to approach him because I always had a father that was ill from alcoholism. I was wary of Morgan and I resisted him often when he was trying to connect with my brothers and I. He won Craig over easily, he was just three when he and Mom got together and Cory usually just went with the flow of all things. I, on the other hand was very guarded which I guess, typically comes with being a teenager but also with past experiences dealing with my own dad. In my mind there was no possible way that Morgan could understand the type of person I was as a teenager. He would walk into my room which was covered with posters of “New Kids on the Block” and talk about cars when I didn’t even know that a oil change was at the time. We would fight over the most stupid things and I always accused him of being unfair which I now know is a word that every parent has to deal and tolerate with. I think I was around nineteen years old when Mom and Morgan divorced and he moved to New York. The strain that is put on any relationship can be a heavy burden and they had a few. I do remember that they talked about getting back together but they had been through a lot as a couple, stuff that no couple should have to go through but that’s my mother’s story… not mine. At any rate, Morgan passed away soon after from a heart attack. I wasn’t able to attend his funeral but I did miss him. He was the father figured that guided me through my entire teenage life and he had somehow manage to find a spot in my heart throughout our ups and downs.
I was so preoccupied that Morgan didn’t understand me that I didn’t realize that I didn’t understand where he came from and how he became the person he was. As a teenager, all we worry about is everything that goes on within the walls of high school and we pretty much ignore what is going on in the world beyond that. I think Morgan pushed open my world view a bit during this time. Over the years, I have come to realize that Morgan came from a generation that is so separated from my own. His youth was robbed from him with a devastating war in Vietnam and he didn’t come home to a Heroes welcome which he deserved. Our government abandoned these men and it was disgusting how they were treated when they returned home. Morgan once told me to prepare for the burdens of serving your country means that you must prepare for the burdens of standing alone. Looking back on him now, he was always trying to make me self efficient by teaching me to fix my own car, by instilling faith in me by attending mass, which I would need in hard times, and by saying it was okay to say a big “FUCK YOU” to a world that might forget or take advantage of me. I think he was worried that the political tide could easily shift in this country and we could be thrust back into a time similar to Vietnam. He was preparing me to manage and deal with this situation if and when it occurred. He showed us that we had to take care of ourselves because there would be times when the world would turn it’s back on us. I now see clearly how war affected Morgan. He wasn’t able to dwell in youthful things the way my own generation was able to do because that time was taken. He was sent to the jungles of a far away country and he paid a heavy price for the burdens of our government’s political propaganda. His health took a massive beating along with psychological side affects that would plague him for decades. He was truly a wounded being trying to find his way back home.
So I say this to the individual that attacks my stance and opinion on the war in Iraq. I learned first hand from an American Soldier what war does in it’s aftermath. I learned first hand that my opinion is my right and my choices are built on the history of this nation both good and bad. I also know all about the consequences of war because I saw it in a father that had to cope with it as he continued to live his life. He made sure that I knew it was my choice to serve in the military or not to serve and that there was no right or wrong when making that decision as long as I was committed to serving my country if called upon. He also made clear that there were other ways to serve this country that didn’t include enlisting in the arm services. He taught me that I should put value in everything that I experience because everything we have today was paid for in blood by countless men and women throughout the history of our nation. He is the reason why I have an undying love for our troops over seas, he is the reason why I know how to change a tire, and he is one of the reasons why I hold tight to my faith because his life was a consequence of war. As an adult, I always try to see every issue from a different perspective and I can honestly say I understand and respect Morgan so much more than I did as a self focused teenager. I am privileged to have known his experiences and adapt those experiences into my own character. He is, and always will be, my American Soldier.

THE HALLOWEEN MURDERS: PART THREE

"Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before." - Edgar Allan Poe

Everyone in my life was dead and it was my fault. Over the course of ten years my life had been shredded and there was nothing left of me but emptiness and nothingness. I was a hallowed shell that had no meaning or soul. I still existed in my human body but everything inside of me was dead and void of feeling which included the feeling of fear. When any individual has nothing to loose then they are able to commit whatever acts necessary to achieve their goal. I no longer feared my brother and it had taken these many years to put together a plan to rid this vile creature from the face of this earth. He had continued to taunt me with his cat and mouse game and eventually killed everyone I knew including Detective Benson.
I stood quietly in the empty house as my cell phone waited to connect with the person on the other line. Suddenly, a woman answered and I instantly told her that I was in the house where it all started and I was waiting for my brother to arrive. I told her that I needed her there to finish what Cory had started and she told me that her and her cameraman were already on their way. There were times when Nancy Grace’s voice annoyed me and her style of journalism was to sensational for my taste. I resented her headlines that always ended in an exclamation point such as, “ANOTHER INNOCENT VICTIM AS SELF CENTERED CHAD EATS BON BONS IN SECRET MANSION HIDEOUT!”
It was Halloween night and ten years had passed since the first murders and I had made sure that Cory was able to track me to our parents house. I had done a series of phone interviews for the approaching ten year anniversary with Nancy Grace, dropping hints that I wanted to revisit the house in Illinois. I looked around the worn down room as flashes of my family and friends entered into my head… pictures of Mom… Jason… Gene… Elijah… Summer… Marleo… Nora…
I refocused my eyes as Nancy Grace entered the house, her cameraman coming instantly behind her. I asked her not to speak as my head continued to pound with images of everyone I had ever known. She pierced her lips in her signature Nancy Grace style and rolled her eyes as if I had any baring on what she could or could not do. She started filming the room and began her commentary in the camera as a feeling of reunited wholeness filled my hallowed shell. I knew he was in the room and I turned around to face my brother one last time.
He stood there with his large kitchen knife soaked in the blood of every victim he had took from me over the years. He stood there smiling his devilish smile, his dark eyes staring deep into mine as his smirk grew ever wider. His insanity was meant with my own insanity as I found myself grinning, looking deep into his dark eyes. The anticipation of this moment had been building for so many years and I felt joy exploding inside of me as I prepared to engage him to the death. It was our insanity that bounded us together in brotherhood and we would each enjoy the ripping of each other’s flesh. This moment was the only reason that sustained us throughout the years, both of us knowing that this day would finally arrive and it all would be finished.
I pulled out my own knife the very moment we lunged toward each other in a fight to the death. He grabbed my hair has he sliced my flesh open on my left arm. My knife went instantly into his hip as if I was slicing a simple cube of butter. I looked up at him as his fist went into my face and I fell back onto the floor with him quickly on top of me, stabbing me in my side. The blood was flowing and I could feel the warm liquid spreading everywhere onto the floor. We held on tightly to each other as we rolled around the floor taking turns punching and stabbing each other and I relished every moment of it. Not once throughout the fight did my smile leave my face because the entire time I knew I had the upper hand and that I would have the last victory.
At one point in the fight I knocked Cory off balance and I was able to push him off of me as he went flying into a wall. The opportunity now presented itself to end this as I pulled out a gun and pointed it at him. I screamed out, “Pop this Bitch!” as several shots were fired into my brother’s chest. Nancy Grace screamed in delight as Cory tumbled to the floor. My grin only grew wider.
I looked over to my side and saw Gene and Jason standing there, both urging me to go on. They both began speaking to me, “You know he isn’t dead. He will keep coming back over and over again and Nancy Grace will never leave you alone. You must tell him your secret and end this. Make sure you end this.” My grinning face turned from them and I looked down at Cory taking a picture out of my coat pocket. I glanced down at the picture and turned it around so Cory could see it before I put him to rest.
The look of defeat spread on his face. Yes… I had won! The picture was of 14 year old Isaiah, Cory’s own son that he thought he had killed. Isaiah had lived and the very day of the first murders I had taken Isaiah to another town, to another family, to another life.
“That’s right Bitch… YOU LOOSE!” I picked up a nearby ax and chopped my brother’s head off and then poured gasoline all over his body sitting him on fire. The flames rose up and began to devour every part of my parent’s house. I continue to grin as Nancy Grace and I walked away from the burning structure that once was the home of my family, not once looking back.
“I will grant you every interview you want, I will visit your show nightly if I have too, I will even give you every detail over the past ten years so you can publish another book but you must promise me something. You must promise me that you will never reveal that Isaiah is alive. I don’t want to ruin his life like my life has been ruined. Promise me that and I will grant you exclusive rights to what has happened.” Normally Nancy Grace would have balked at my offer but deep inside of her, she too wanted to protect Isaiah from being a victim of sensational journalism. She nodded her head and we continued to walk away from the fire that raged behind us. I walked toward a future of media onslaught, hoping and praying that Cory wouldn’t come back for me and drag my ass back to hell. My final thought before waking up was that there was always room for a sequel or a remake…
The morning after I had the “Halloween Murders” dream I realized that I had been watching to much of John Carpenter’s Halloween and the numerous sequels that followed. It was like each segment of those films had blended together and played out in my head… same story, different cast. After my morning shower, I headed over to my brother’s house to pick up Isaiah and Elijah; the boys and I were spending the day out at the lake with my home girl Nora and her bunch. As we were leaving I glanced over at Cory and told him I would have the kids back in a few hours. He said, “okay, see you later.” and waved, his dark eyes piercing my own as a chill went up the spine of my back. Yea… I was watching way to many horror films lately, it was time to switch to romantic comedies with Drew Barrymore for a while. I love my brother and he’s basically a great guy if he’s not on my nerves as little brothers tend to do. I know logically that he is not a psychopathic killer that would go on a blood lust to kill every single person in my life. At least… hopefully he’s not.
　

THE DESPAIR OF JOYFULNESS

***
The journey of the tear begins…

***

This isn't happening... I have not been separated from the organic pools of the wholeness. I am still a part of the one being that protects the eye. I could feel the pure emotion of joy filling the liquid compounds. It was complete joy, so how could I be separated from the wholeness? This isn't happening... I will not accept this. I will not be separated from the wholeness and I will not be alone. This isn't happening... This isn't happening…

***
The journey of the tear continues...

***

Please wipe me back into your eye? Many moments have passed and I continue to fall further and further from those organic pools. I promise to wrap my moisture around your cornea and protect the wholeness from the threats of the cruel dry air that now surrounds me. I am alone and I can’t resist the dryness without the wholeness. If you let me come home, then I will do my best always, just let me come home and I will do my best. Please, just wipe me back into your eye. Please, save me, I don’t have the strength to resist.

***

The journey of the tear continues...

***

Fuck you for killing me! Your self proclaimed happiness is the reason that I am dying. Fuck you for expelling me from the organic pools of your eye. Fuck you for separating me from the body and thrusting me into a world of dryness and leaving me alone, forever separated from the wholeness that was my creation, my beginning, my mother, my father! Fuck you for your joy that has become my forced sacrifice! I hate you for this! I hate you! I hate you so much! I hate you! Fuck you... Fuck you... Fuck you!

***

The journey of the tear continues.

***

Everything is over. My life apparently had no meaning? Where do I go from here? What will happen to me in my last moment? Why was I even created if I have no purpose and no meaning. What did I do to deserve this? I am truly lost... I am truly abandoned... I am truly forgotten. I am worthless, I am alone, and I will simply die alone. I feel the silence around me and I feel it deeper within me. I have nothing left to grasp onto. I am just falling to nothingness. Nothing but silence... nothing but despair... nothing but loneliness.

***

The journey of the tear continues...

***

I now approach my fate with dignity for only I alone choose the way that I die… and I will die but I have been given the right of choice. Do I go with despair? Do I go out with dignity? That is my choice and it is my right; no one else’s, it is mine alone to make. I will hold on to this with everything that I have and I will never let go of it. Here, I stand on my journey, with the right to choose... and I will choose dignity. I was created out of a joyous thought and my death will be the symbol of joy itself and out of that great emotion of joy I have been given the gift of individuality. I lived and that is all that matters, the opportunity of life was given to me and I LIVED!

***

My memories are fading... the light around me now fades and as the wetness of my soul separates; the salty spirit of my essences transcends.

***

The journey of the tear continues…

***

BEAVER WARS: THE BEAVER MENACE

Once upon a time… In Chad’s life… Far, far away…
Over the years, Beavers have taunted and teased me; they have filled my body with fear and they have taken every opportunity presented to them to rage havoc on my life. I constantly live in fear that at any moment a beaver will dash towards me, leaping towards my jugular vein, leaving a gaping hole in my neck with their huge knife wielding teeth. I am no longer safe anywhere I go because they have penetrated our cities and towns, our amusement parks, and of course our forest and campgrounds. Our precious Earth is being overwhelmed by their numbers and I just know that one day I will wake up with those vicious teeth glaring down at me. I lack the understanding of their kind and the reasons why they hate me so. I do know that if anything happens to me, like if my corpse is found floating down a quiet river bend with teeth marks scattered throughout my body, my genitals torn to shreds, and my eyes gauged out of their sockets, that I do have a list of beaver suspects, each of which have made a failed attempt on my life.
I don’t know what I did to piss off these raging beavers but the first incident was a few years ago in southern Missouri. My family had decided to take a trip during spring break and kayak down a river that was frequently visited by humans. To my defense, their were a few hundred college age humans that were drinking and partying during our few days there and any one of them could have started this war with the beavers.
I had not had a good day on this particular trip due to an incident that involved my mother and step father, neither of which had spent any time in a canoe and neither had never apparently used or managed a paddle. We were trying to get through a rough patch of water when my kayak had been pushed up against a side of a cliff. I had water flowing over me and I was unable to paddle myself out of my predicament due to the force of water pushing me against the cliff wall. To make matters worst my mother yells at me from about thirty feet that they are going to hit me. I look back towards them and saw their canoe heading straight for my head. Mom was staring at me wondering why I wasn’t getting out of their way and my step father was trying to figure out his paddle. Sure enough, a few seconds later, their canoe slammed into my little kayak and I got dragged under water.
I fought my way back up to the surface and found myself about twenty feet from where I had gone under and of course, of all the places I could have come up along this cliff wall, I come up at the only place where a tree stump was protruding out the side of the cliff. I hit my head on the stump and I immediately go back under, only this time, with a splinting headache. I finally get back to the surface to meet the giggles and quiet smirks of my family. Each of which were asking if I was okay with their futile attempts to hold in their laughter. My mother’s only comment was, “I told you we were going to hit you, you should have moved.” I gathered my things and got back into my kayak grinding my teeth.
We found ourselves in a very quiet part of the river and I laid back in my kayak, closing my eyes, enjoying the breeze, and allowing the river to calmly guide me down stream. Only a few moments of peace passed before I noticed a clicking sound coming from my right. It was fast and quick, pausing only for a few seconds between each segment of clicks. I opened my eyes to see a massive size beaver on the shoreline staring straight at me from only about five feet away. It was jumping quick little jumps and the hair on his backside was standing straight up. I screamed at the top of my lungs lunging myself out of my kayak and back into the water. It was at this point that complete panic sat in; I realized in that one complete truth of the moment that beavers are one of the best swimmers in the animal kingdom and I was bound to be dragged under by the horrendous beast. I couldn’t stop screaming as my family began to freak out over my reaction. I started yelling, “Beaver! Beaver! Beaver!” I turned back to the shoreline to point to them and the beaver was gone. The beastly creature had vanished as quickly has it had appeared to me. I then realized that it could have jumped into the water so I leaped back into my kayak and used my paddles to pushed myself down stream, as far away from the incident as possible. I took comfort in the fact that I had my paddles and I would not hesitate to use them as weapons if the beaver tried to take control of the kayak. After a couple of hours I felt that the threat was over and I began to relax a bit.
I don’t know if I had startled the beaver or what but I became a joke within my family as they teased me that beavers don’t make clicking sounds nor do they attempt to murder humans in cold blood. I didn’t sleep well at all during the rest of this weekend trip and was thankful when we returned home. I thought I would be safe being back at home in the confounds of my bedroom and that this was an isolated incident. That illusion of safety however, was going to be shattered quickly, for I would soon discover that this so called, isolated incident in southern Missouri would spark an all out, interstate war between me and the beavers. Over the years they would send spies and assassins to watch over me and spend numerous attempts to slaughter me. This was far from over, a quiet shift was happening in the darkness and it was being led my a dark beaver by the name of Darth Francis; and I would come to realized that his beavers are everywhere and that they are constantly listening to us, watching us, and building an army to move against us.
Coming Soon: BEAVER WARS: ATTACK OF THE BEAVERS