Grand Theft Auto On The Rez - A Short Story
Time - August 1950. Place - The Rez in northern Minnesota.
I was ten at the time, one brother was eight and my youngest brother was six. We were really good kids, wonderful in fact. The neighbors would all say, ''what wonderful little boys''..Never suspecting that behind our angelic faces lies the heart of Col. Custer, the guy that wears arrow shirts...
We were sitting around on a sunny August day, school to start soon and none of us were looking forward to that dreadful day. Trapped in a room all day, listening to old people preach at us. No more running barefoot in the woods, swimming in the river or lakes that surrounded our little town. It would be horrible for us, jail would have been better, actually it wasn't.
The three of us were brain storming, trying to figure out what we would on the last days of summer, when I came up with a brilliant idea, let's take a ride. The trouble is we didn't have a car, my parents didn't have a car at the time, but our neighbor, Big Sid had a car.
The light went off in my head, it was dim but it was there. Hey what can you expect from a ten year old. Eyeing Big Sid's car we hatched a plot. We'd ''borrow'' it and drive to the lake, little did it matter that we didn't know how to drive, if adults could do it we surely could.
Sneaking up to Big Sid's car, it was a 1941 Chevy Special Deluxe. A huge four door that was built like a tank, no plastic on this baby, it was all steel. Opening the door we got in and there it was, the key. We looked at each other with angelic grins on our faces. YES off to the lake we could go.
Sitting in the drivers seat there was a problem, it was a three speed manual on the floor and I couldn't sit in the seat and reach the pedals or the shift. No worries, problem solved. I would sit in the drivers seat and steer, brother number one would handle the shifting and brother number two would sit on the floor and work the brake and gas pedals. True teamwork at play.
I turned the key and the car jumped forward. Oh no, brother on the floor forgot to push in the clutch and shifting brother had it in gear. After a couple more false starts we were off, rolling down the alley, we were headed to the lake!!
Suddenly I saw the alley was ending and there was a street, this is when things started to go bad. I swung the car to the left and ran over Ernie Pudds garbage can, across his neatly kept dirt lawn and between the two single wides, taking off the steps to one and destroying Mrs. Longtooth clothes line, fulled loaded with clothes. Yelling at brother on the floor to hit the brakes, he, of course, hit the gas pedal, and shifting brother covered his eyes. Hurling through the Mrs. Longtooth's flower bed we were out of control.
Me, holding on to the steering wheel with a death grip we took dead aim at the only utility pole in the neighborhood. It was huge in the windshield and it was coming right at us...CRASH, we center punched it. Stunned, I sat there and watched the utility pole start leaning to one side, further and further until it came crashing down on Ernie Pudds newly added covered porch. It was only going to get worse, Ernie had nailed the porch cover to his metal single wide and the weight of the pole and lifted the single wide off is cinder blocks. This of course broke the sewer line and the shit flew. There was Ernie, boxers around his ankles in his full glory.
I looked around to find an escape route. Brother on the floor was crying, his head was stuck under the dashboard, and shifting brother had, well he had pissed his pants. A sorry sight.
As I sat there knowing that we were in deep trouble, the neighbors were gathering around the car. Ernie Pudds was trying to pull up in pants, I guess that he was on the pot when we hit. Mrs Longtooth was screaming about clothes and flowers, and then we heard the police siren wailing. Oh no, ''Big House'' here we come.
The next thing that I know, Floyd Big Man Crow the Tribal cop and volunteer fireman is looking at me, fire ax in hand. The next hour is a blur. I'm standing next to the car, brother on the floor was rescued, I think that they used pig grease to get his head unstuck. Shifter brother is standing there with wet pants.
Our mother arrives and checks us out, were ok but brother on the floor looks very strange covered in pig grease.
We were put into Floyd Big Man Crow's police car and we headed off to jail. We were perp walked into the ''drunk tank'', hey, it was a small jail and there was only one cell. Floyd Big Man Crow slammed the door behind him as he left. We figured that he was getting the gallows ready for us.
After a couple of hours in solitary confinement my father shows up. Oh no, this is not good. He stood there looking at us for at least 12 hours (actually it was around 2 minutes) Dad and Floyd Big Man Crow talked for awhile, suddenly my father walks up to the cell and tells us, ''well boys, have a nice night, I'll see you tomorrow at the trial''..Ohhhhhh, they were going to hang us after keeping us in solitary confinement overnight.
We spent the night in the ''slammer''...there were some interesting people and sounds in that place. the next morning our father and mother showed up. We knew that we were on our way to the gallows.
They took us out of solitary confinement and we all walked home, around two miles without a word being said. When we arrived at home my father gave us the sentence. Brother on the floor would have to stay covered in pig grease for three days. Shifting brother had to stay in his wet pants for three days, and me being the oldest was restricted for life and given a real ass tanning.
That my friends is how the summer of 1950 ended.
Names have been changed to protect the stupid ones for being labeled stupid for life.
Kavika 2011 All Rights Reserved. Do Not Use Without Permission.
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This is a true story. It's still talked about today on the Rez...
We became something of celebrities, there was a story about us and the ''incident'' in the Rez newspaper. I.M. Red Tribune.
Too funny !!
Floyd Big Man Crow the Tribal cop and volunteer fireman is looking at me, fire ax in hand.
Sounds like Stonehand.
Floyd Big Man Crow was quite the character. Floyd and my uncle, Walks the Horse were the dynamic duo on the rez.
This is a great story, Kavika. I remember the one about you and your Brothers and the train ride. Looking forward to reading that one again as well.
Oh the ''jumping the train''....LOL that was an adventure for sure RW.
Yeahhh.....that was a real hoot. And as I remember, you guys got a mondo whopping that time too! (big grin)
Yup, a moment I'd like to forget, but it was well worth it.
LOL I love this story!! What little boys can dream up is amazing. hmm Now i'm wondering what my Prince will think up when he gets older... I'm sure being in the Slammer taught you boys a lesson. ( I hope )
Actually it didn't teach us much Nona. We went on many more adventures before and after this one..LOL
WHAT a hoot!!!
This sort of reminds me of the time that it had frosted outside and it was already REALLY slick. Grandma couldn't reach very far up on the windshield of the car, so she scraped a long swath off to the side of the windshield, and off we went to take Grandpa his hot lunch at the Railroad station, two blocks away. As we got to the Union Station, one of grandma's friends, Mrs. Kettleman, was walking next to the sidewalk, rather precariously because it was slick, and Grandma learned that she couldn't stop the car. The 3 ton, monster 1957 Dodge just kept on going. So Grandma began waving, 'Get out of the way, Mrs. Kettleman! Get out of the way!'
Mrs. Kettleman, seeing Grandma waving at her, stopped in mid step, to wave back, "Hellooooo dear Ida Mae! Helloooo!" Foot on the brake, the Dodge kept plowing forward, Mrs. Kettleman kept waving hello, and Grandma kept waving for her to get out the way. My jaw dropped, as, in stupefied surprise, we ran into Mrs. Kettleman, knocking her off her feet. Grandpa raced out of the Union Station to help her up, straighten her hat, and gather her purse, and I am sad to say that all of us had a giant laugh! Fortunately, Mrs. Kettleman was unhurt, just rattled, and Grandpa drove us all home.
To this day, when it is slick, it has become a family tradition to get in the car and wave, "Hellooooo Mrs. Kettleman!"
Good thing that Mrs. Kettleman wasn't hurt, but that is a really funny story Dowser.
Helloooooo Mrs. Kettleman...LOL
Golly! Grandma felt so badly, but all we could do was laugh! And yes, I'm glad she wasn't hurt at all! She fell into the snow piled up by the sidewalk. So, she was cushioned.... Miscommunication at its finest....
''Miscommunication at its finest....''
A vast understatement...LOL
Man, did the brother in pig grease ever get away with it! I mean I wish I had his lawyer!
He was the youngest so he got away with a lot of things that I never could.
Of course I was an angel. Except for that time when I was about nine and heaved the biggest rock I could at my older sister Christine's head (which is what rocks and big sisters were put here for) and I missed! She got out of the way in time and the rock smashed through the glass on back storm door! Of course my dad was on the road driving (he was one of those big barrel chested type truck drivers), but I was scared anyway and took off for the woods and hills up behind the barn. I threw the rock in the morning but I was too scared to come down until it started to get dark. Of course like all nine year old human persons I had to pee during the time I was hiding in the woods. So, even though no one was around I hid behind a bush to pee.
That was the summer that I learned to identify what Poison Ivy looked like. I was miserable!!!! My dad thought it was so funny and that I had been punished enough so he let me off with a warning not to throw rocks at my sisters anymore. Of course he had to tell everyone at the family reunion, in very graphic detail, exactly how and where I had contracted Poison Ivy earlier that summer. I laughed about it years later, but that wasn't the start of those years.
LMAO, well it served you right for breaking a window and I'll bet your sister thought it was great...
I wonder how much trouble I would have been it if I hit her?
A lot Randy.
me being the oldest was restricted for life and given a real ass tanning.
You know what? My dad only hit me once the whole time I was growing up. He never had to. All he had to do was roar! I mean he loaded and unloaded some of his own freight and driving trucks was really hard to do back then. None of these mobile apartments some semi-trucks are now and I know I was smaller, but it seemed to me his biceps were massive! 6 pack abs. The whole deal. He'd unstrap his belt and smack it against the wall a few inches from you and you did as he said!
The only time he ever hit me I was 16 and living with my mom again and her 3rd husband (harmless, but a dick anyway) in Battle Creek and I couldn't stand it! So one night I was really drunk (I was always in trouble there. Shop-lifting, some small time burglaries, fighting, etc.) and borrowed a friend of mines car and drove up to Hopkins (about 50 miles) where my dad and step-mother lived, drinking all of the way. My mother was worried and had called my dad to keep an eye out for me. So I show up at his place, hammered out of my gourd, 10 feet high and bullet proof arrogant! I let myself into the house (they never kept the door locked) and my old man came out of his bedroom just off the living room in his underwear and said "Where the hell have you been!" Now there were a lot of things I could have said, but what I did say was really, really bad! I said "None of your fucking business!" POW!
I don't remember much of the next little while as I apparently flew from the living room, through the dining room and slammed up against the wall in the kitchen, which was the only reason I stopped going. I sort of remember my dad asking me if I was OK (which I was not) and being in the ER as the doctor was explaining to my dad, my step-mother and myself the various places my jaw was cracked. They didn't have to wire my jaw, but I lived on a liquid diet for awhile and I never did it again. He actually felt awful about it and kept apologizing because he just reacted. I sure had it coming though!
After my jaw healed I had dropped out of school, just turned 17 and asked my dad if he would sign for me to join the Air Force. Basic Training has a way of taking the delinquent out of the juvenile. Many years later when he was dying of lung cancer we got to spend a few hours alone at the Hospice center and had a great laugh about it. I don't know if Basic Training straightened me out more or that cracked jaw. Probably both. LOL!
He was a great guy and I miss him.
The ass tanning was delivered by my mom....My dad never hit/spanked any of us. Mom was a whole different story. We deserved most of them...LOL
Good thing that dad follow up with another shot...You'd have really been in shit city.
OMG, that story was too funny. Great story telling!!! Just read it to the hubby and daughter and we all laughed and shared some of our more colorful moments. Heck, you do know that I am still called "Ceiling Perrie", right?
Nothing is funnier that little boys with a plan. Rarely does it end well, but if they live, and their parents don't kill them, they have a story for life.
That is just one of many rather interesting adventures of the Rez Boyz...
Yup, I do remember the story about ''Ceiling Perrie''....LOL
Wait till I post the one about the pot belly stove.
btw, pics of the little devils would be fun to see.
Camera's were not invented on the rez at that point in time. LOL
Instead NA's were just carved on coins...LOL!
LOL, true.
Damn utility poles - they have a way of wandering in front of moving vehicles. Of course, maybe in your case, Kavika, it stopped the car from doing even worse damage.
You know Buzz, I didn't think of that. If we would have got past Ernie Pudd's spacious single wide next stop was my nookomis (grandma).
OMG if we would have hit nookomis house that would have been the end of use for sure.
Damn utility poles - they have a way of wandering in front of moving vehicles.
When I was married to my first wife I was driving our big old 1974 Impala hen a tree at the end of our driveway reached out and smacked in the right front fender. Of course the fact that I was on a beer run and should have walked had nothing to do with it. It was that damned tree that never really liked me anyway! I could tell! We had a low hanging tornado a few years later and it dropped a big branch onto the hood, driving the whole front end down into the mud. It still was drive-able, but you had to keep correcting the steering from one side to the other. Damn tree!
I remember this story, always a fun read though! And you all survived it....and the 'discipline' that followed!
Yes we did survive it but didn't learn a lot from it, as we continued to have ''adventures''....