by Oddie Possum

The Boat that Wouldn't Float

© 2007 by Melanie D. Calvert-Benton, All Rights Reserved

The phone rang early one Saturday morning, way before the rooster crows, and Foxy groaned as she rolled over. This can only mean one thing, she thought as she shuffled in her bed slippers to put the coffee on.  Foxy could hear Mule on the phone with Bubba Lee and they were planning a fishing trip. Mule's voice grew louder with excitement and she knew he was talking with his cousin, Bubba Lee.

A few minutes later, Mule was explaining to her that Bubba Lee had a new fangled fishing boat he was going to try out on the lake this morning. This boat had dual Evinrude motors and a live well to keep the fish alive. According to Bubba Lee, this boat would hold several folks, so he had invited some of their kinfolks to come along to test the boat out. Bubba Lee also asked them to be sure and bring their beer coolers, it was sure to get hotter later in the day. 

The grin Mule was toting on his face, while he gathered up his fishing gear, was pure bliss.   If you hadn't of known the man better, you would have thought he'd just won the jackpot from “Stop & Drive's" quick pick of the day.  Mule always filled up their old pick-em-up with gas at the Stop & Drive and usually gets his chewing tobacco there too. So, it's only natural for him to buy a lottery ticket or three.

Foxy had never seen a man love tobacco and their old truck the way he loved those two.  Mule almost cried when Ernie Frank shot a hole in the back glass of the truck during deer season. Ernie's gun fired while they were loading a twelve-point buck Mule shot.  It seems Ernie's shotgun slipped over and it went off, slick as a whistle. Lucky for Mule and Ernie, the window caught the buckshot and not them.  All Mule did was get some cardboard, duck tape and fix the back window good as new, almost. 

Foxy fussed a little over the window, until she got used to the ladies at the Daisy Hill Market whispering behind their hands and giggling. Those women didn't have a thing on her, until she spied one of them getting out of her car in front of the post office one morning. Effie Mae Clark had on a skirt of hot pink and lime green made of . . . duck tape, it was all Foxy could do to keep from laughing and wetting herself when she saw that outfit.

Any way, on this morning, Mule fire up his beloved truck, waved out the window, and drove away.  Foxy wondered how many fish those boys would catch that day and how many she would wind up cleaning for supper.  Foxy was thinking a good mess of fish and hushpuppies would taste pretty good later in the day.  She set the breakfast table to rights, washed the dishes, and then moved to her recliner to watch her favorite soapbox shows.

Mule drove up to the parking spot beside the other vehicles and all the fellers were there. He noticed they were grinning a lot, which meant either they were happy, or had been in the beer already. There was Bubba Lee, Burrhead, Willie Eugene, and Bobby Dale all waiting on Mule to show up. They were there in their matching bib overalls, with t-shirts, and had they fishing tackle and coolers loaded with beer. Mule quickly loaded his tackle box and pole, and soon they were under way.

Willie Eugene was the first to get a bass and he promptly flopped it over into the live well. A short time later, Burrhead pulled a red gill brim in. Mule brought up a six-pound catfish that started fussing a hissy-fit and the boys laughed. Bubba Lee had just popped the top on his first cold beer of the morning, when he noticed water seeping around his feet.

"Any you fellers notice any water coming in?" he asked.

"Naw, Bubba Lee, I missed makin' water a-fore we left, so that there's my water yer' steppin' in," Willie Eugene said just before he guzzled beer from his can. If looks could kill, I do believe Bubba Lee strangled Willie Eugene on the spot. 

" Hain't yer Momma taught ya no better boy? Ya got the worstest manners I've eveh seen." Bubba Lee said and then let out a loud belch. 

Mule looked up at the both of them over his glasses and just shook his head before baiting his hook once more. Idiots, I'm kin to a bunch idiots, he thought and then pricked his index finger with the hook.

Burrhead reached in the cooler, pulled out a beer and opened it. He sipped it a mite slow, as if deep in thought, before he spoke, "Mule, what ya got yer ole lady doin' these days?" 

Mule straightened up his back and stretched like an ole bear in the sunshine, before he answered, "She's taken up a class in an artwork, of sorts"  

Burrhead scratched his rear and asked, "Artwork? What kind of artwork will pay a bill or put food on the table?" 

"Well, ya take a common brand of duct tape, use any color ya want, and ya can make things from it. One of the ladies down at the Daisy Hill Market had on a skirt made of the stuff and Foxy claimed it looked real cool."

Willie Eugene said, "Well I ain't neveh hear'd of such a thang in all my put togethers."

"Yep, these wimmen got a thang goin' on the inner net for sellin' these items and the price is purty good. How do ya guys think I get my beer money?" Mule said with a smirk.

If a pin would've dropped among Bubba Lee, Burrhead, Bobby Dale, and Willie Eugene, it would have been heard for sure. Mule just sat there, looking like he'd just won the annual lawnmower race down at Pete's Fit It Shop.

It was then, as if by queue, a loud gurgle sounded.

"Willie Eugene, did ya cut the cheese man?" Burrhead asked with a wrinkled nose. 

"Naw Burr, weren't me." 

The water level in the boat started rising by Mules' feet, "Hey feller's, I think this heah boat's got a leak." 

They all started looking down at the floor of the boat, where a telltale strip of duct tape was floating, and watched another strip joined it.        

"Bubba Lee, what did ya put this boat and the live well together with?" Mule asked as he started putting on his life preserver.         

"I used some rivets and of course and when I was running short of sealant, I finished up with some . . . duck tape," Bubba Lee said and then rolled his eyes skyward as if embarrassed.

 "Ya used duct tape to make a boat? Don't ya know duct tape ain't waterproof for long periods of time?" Burrhead hollered, as his right foot was covered by the quickly rising water.

Another gurgle was heard, followed by an extremely loud cracking sound. The next sound heard, was the guys scrambling to get their gear and coolers "float ready," before the SS Titanic went down.

Within the next five minutes, the boys were swimming to shore with what tackle, gear fish, and coolers they had managed to save. Bubba Lee watched from the shore in disbelief as his beloved boat, with the twin Evinrude motors, sank to the bottom of the lake. Bubba Lee even saluted, as the bow of the boat went under. All the rest of the guys patted his shoulder and then made their way to a well used path that lead to the parking lot. After they left Bubba thought, should I have been a real captain and gone down with my boat?

Mule drove home and pulled up into the driveway with his missus waiting on the doorstep.

"Well Mule, what sort of adventure did ya get into today?" Foxy asked with a smile.

Mule wiped his face with his hand, pulled off his ever-present ball cap, and ran his fingers through his hair, before answering, "I have a wet butt, a empty gut, and all because of duct tape." 

She stood and kissed him on the lips and told him there was soup and cornbread on the stove. She would wait until later to hear the rest of his story; it had to be a "whopper".

Authors Note: It is with more than just a small degree of humor I write this story of my beloved "Mule", his kinfolks, and friends located in the Missouri Ozark Mountains. I do this in defense of all women, who are out there tired of being called "rednecked," just because of the way Southern womenfolk use duct tape for repairing most anything, designing objects and so forth.

By the way, iffen ya want to make a Missouri Ozarks feller made, call ‘em a Yankee. It seems they live in a part of the state called “Little Dixie” and I wonder why it's called that?

Visit Her Site Now.	Melanie Calvert Benton is the "better half" to Mule. Melane is known by the nick name " Foxy". She got that name  from being an CB radio enthusiast. Foxy's CB Handle is "One Foxy Lady."  Melanie grew up on a small farm in Meridian, MS , where she milked two cows and churned butter. After driving a country school bus for three years, she made the decision to better herself. Melanie went to a college of higher education and got a degree in  Respiratory Therapy.  Mrs. Benton at one time ran a photography studio and decided to make it her life long dream to be a professional photographer &  book cover artist. She really loves, deer hunting. photography, camping and torturing her husband . She prefers the low keyed atmosphere of a camping out and watching a night's fire to the profile life of a big city. Melanie is a true southern belle and can even act the part, when called for.

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