The Poems of John Evans - Inspirational Reflections on Life and Love.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

    Chief Willy's Book of Wisdom - Chapter 4

    "Chief, there's a village up ahead." I heard Jackson say from across the narrow road.  I glanced over at him and smiled.  He looked like G.I. Joe from the comic books that we read as kids.  He was thick muscled.  Rolled up sleeves revealed powerful, hairy arms that cradled a BAR (Browning Automatic Rifle).  A stub of a dead cigar stuck out from a dirty face that hadn't seen a razor in at least a week.  His camouflaged helmet rode low on his forehead.  An ammo belt was slung over each of his shoulders.
    "Yeah.  I see it, Jackson."  I said.  I raised my hand in the air, which brought the columns of men on either side of the road to a silent halt.
    Jackson walked across the road and lit the cigar stub with a Zippo, then turned and studied the village and terrain with me.
    "Looks too quiet."  I said.
    "Maybe the Great Spirit is there.  Then what will you do?"
    Confusion rattled my brain.  "What?  What the hell are you talking about?"
    "Wake up, Sarge."  Jackson said, turning and looking at me.
    "Wake up!"  I heard again, but it wasn't Jackson's voice.  I opened my eyes, and realized that I had been dreaming.  Across the small beach an Alaskan river flowed lazily to the sea.  Two men stood in front of me, one leaning down, shaking my shoulder as he kept saying, "Wake up".
    "I'm wake.  I'm awake."  I said, coming to my feet.
    "Are you okay?"  He asked.
    "Yeah.  I'm fine."  I looked from him to the other guy and back to him.  They wore the yellow helmets and thick clothes of firefighters.  I recognized both of them from the fire camp, which was the temporary home of hundreds of men.
    "What are you guys doing out here?"  I asked him.
    "Looking for you.  What the hell do you think we're doing out here?"
    "What for?  Willy, here - - " I turned to where Willy had been sleeping against the tree next to me, but he wasn't there.  I looked around the beach and then back at the firefighter who had a very confused expression on his face.
    "Willy - you mean, Chief Willy?" the guy said.
    "Yeah.  He was right here."  I said, turning and pointing at the base of the tree.
    "I think you hit your head and don't remember it.  Willy was never here.  He couldn't have been.  He's been with us the whole time.  He's up on the main trail right now."
    "We're talking about an old guy with real white hair.  Right?" I asked.
    The guy standing off a little bit started snickering.  We both looked at him.
    "Hey; Joe, don't you remember what Willy said when we started the search?"
    "What's that?'  Joe asked.
    "Willy - when we started the search.  He walked around that burn hole, sniffing the air, looking up and chanting, and then he said, "We go this way." and started down the trail.  I asked him how he knew where to go, and he said that he was already here and the Great Spirit would guide us."
    "Oh, yeah, I remember that." Joe snickered with him.  "Crazy old fart, but he's a damned good tracker."
    I looked at both of them with astonishment.  "Man, you guys are really st - - " I stopped, knowing better than to call them "stupid shits", as I would need to be rescued from my rescuers if I did.  Instead I stumbled on the word and managed to say, "stupendously great guys for saving me."
    "College kid, huh?"  The guy other than Joe said with a hint of sarcasm.  "Nobody uses a word like, stupendously."
    "I'm a writer." I said.  "Sometimes words pop out when I'm not looking."  I gave him a friendly grin.
    He nodded acceptance of my excuse.
    When we climbed back up to the main trail, Willy was waiting for us.  He looked exactly as I had seen him all morning long.  When our eyes met, he smiled slightly and his eyes twinkled. 
    "Did you learn anything by getting lost?"  he asked. 
    "Yes, I did, Willy.  I learned a lot."  He nodded, turned up the trail and silently led us single file back to the fire camp.


   










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