A Tale of Two Garths. Chapter Nineteen – Demon Children and Deep Fried Bulls Ball’s.

“I can’t take it anymore. I’m dying,” I told KC and Garth as I sat back in my lawn chair staring at the fire.
“What time is it?” KC asked.
“It’s 4:15,” Garth said as he turned the handle on the spit to rotate the pig. At this point in the morning the three of us had said pretty much all we could have possibly said to one another as far as entertainment goes. For the rest of the morning we sat in a zombie-like silence staring at the fire and patiently waiting for the 6 am shift change.

“Okay you guys are relieved,” a voice came from up behind us. It was Glenn and it was 6 am. He looked happy and chipper with his cup of coffee in his hand and a beaming smile on his face. I want to kick him in the shins and run away so bad right now.
“Boy did I sleep good,” he proceeded to tell us rubbing salt into our wounds.
“I’ve had enough of this, I’m going to sleep,” I told the guys and made a beeline for our tent in the Aspens. KC was dragging himself behind me looking worse for the wear.
“I am so tired,” he mumbled. The large bags under his eyes told the whole story. We could hear Garth and Glenn laughing at our expense but were just too tired to plan any sort of retaliation.
“Goodnight KC,” said as I dropped into my tent and into a dead sleep.
“Goodnight,” he said as he weaved past my tent towards his in a sleep-deprived stupor. I slept so hard for the next four hours I didn’t even hear Garth come in the tent and crawl in next to me. If it wasn’t for the band breaking into song around 10 am I might have slept all day.

We emerged from our tents to find Sheryl had saved the three of us some breakfast.
“You are a wonderful woman,” I told her spooning mouthfuls of scrambled eggs with green chilies into my mouth. After breakfast we ventured out of the house towards the camp’s common ground and were immediately taken back by the amount of people that were there. It was as if the entire campsite had given birth. To twins.
“Where did all these people come from?’ I asked as more and more people were walking up to the site with chairs, coolers, and dishes of food in their hands.
“They’re also part of the roast. Only some people camp, a lot of people come the day of the roast or stay in hotels in town,” Garth told me.

More people introduced themselves to me.
“I hear you make jewelry,” one woman said, admiring my necklace.
“Yes, I brought some of my pieces with me,” I told her. The months before the roast I had been working furiously making necklaces, anklets, and bracelets to help fund my trip to Colorado. What I hadn’t already sold I brought with me. Having fallen in love with most of the women in camp I had given most of them a piece of my jewelry but now some of the new arrivals wanted to buy them. I pulled by bag of handcrafted jewelry from my tent and took it up to the women who were waiting. Next thing I knew I had a handful of cash, one painting, and three beers. And the trading and bartering continued.
“I have a rabbits foot,” one woman said.
“I have and Eagle feather,” said another.
“You can take my kid,” said a third. By the time it as all over I had no jewelry left and everywhere I looked I saw a little piece of me in the camp. I couldn’t help but smile.
“You better bring us more next year,” Garth’s aunt Linda told me as she held up her Stacy-made Abalone necklace with pride.

The day went on and the party continued. Everyone took turns singing. It didn’t matter if you were good or not, because you had a built in audience that loved you just the way you were. KC and I even sang an Offspring song together. We were out of tune; the band members were so old they had never even heard of Offspring, and Garth just stared at me like I was the best singer he had ever heard.
“She’s the one,” he told his dad.
Around 2 pm the pig was ready to come off and everyone was ready to eat. One dish was contributed per family and set up on the picnic tables around the site. The pig was taken off very carefully as the meat was tender and literally falling off the bone. As the pig was placed back on the giant piece of plywood the entire camp filled up the smell of scorched meat.
“Stacy, you have to try the pig,” Garth told me while we stood in the circle of people surrounding the pig.
“I haven’t eaten meat in years. I don’t know if I can do it,” I told him. It wasn’t that I was one of those “Oh poor animal,” girls. Don’t get me wrong, I felt bad for the pig. But when I stopped eating meat it was really just because one day I decided I wanted to. Not for any other reason that that. And at this point meat had not touched my lips in so long I wasn’t sure I wanted to go back.
“Stacy, that pig is the whole reason we’re here.” He was right. This whole week revolved around that giant pig. It was a symbol. It would have been rude not to eat it.
“Okay, I’ll try it. But just a little bit,” I told him. He leaned over and gave me a big kiss.
“You’re going to love it. It’s so good.”

It seemed to take forever but the guys eventually unwrapped the pig from all the chicken wire while managing to keep it pretty well intact. We all grabbed our plates and made our way through the tables grabbing a little bit of this and a spoonful of that. Pig or no pig all I cared about was dessert. All I had been hearing about for the last three days was about something delicious called Maxine’s Dilemma. That was all anyone ever talked about. It was some sort of orgasm-inducing treat that made the best sex you’ve ever had pale in comparison.

With my plate full of food, including some of the pig I promised to eat, Garth, KC, one of Garth’s young cousins, and myself went down towards the Aspens and sat there enjoying our food as well as the view.
“How’s the pig?” Garth asked me.
“It’s actually pretty good,” I told him. I wasn’t lying. It was good. I shoved my pie hole full of everything on my plate including all of the pig not knowing that was to become my ultimate down fall.
“I’m going back for more,” Garth said. His tall, large frame looming over us.
“Me too,” KC said as his equally tall frame stood up. As they got up to leave, Garth’s cousin followed suit. I’m not really sure what happened after that. I think it may have been the meat. Or it could have been the fact that we didn’t get any sleep because we had pig duty. But the next thing I knew I woke up hours later face down in our tent. What the…? That the hell is going on? I knew I was in our tent but I had absolutely no recollection of exactly how I got there.

I stumbled towards the music still groggy from my nap.
“There she is,” Rex called out as I saw Garth walking towards me with his arms spread wide to give me a hug followed by a kiss.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I don’t know. We all came back with our food and all you said was, “I’m so tired.” And then you did a face plant in our tent and have been asleep for the last three hours.”
“And Maxine’s Dilemma?”
“It’s all gone,” he informed me. It was my fault I didn’t let on how much I wanted it so how could he have known to save me a piece. But I was going to have to wait a whole year to meet the wonderful Maxine and learn about her dilemma. All I wanted was some dessert. I thought to myself while giving myself a small pity party.
“We missed you kid,” Dewitt said slapping me on the back. Oh well, I was going to have to get over it and move on. Maybe someone has a Kit Kat bar or something.

The night went into it’s usual routine of people dancing and singing. One group went into town to watch the fire works but we stayed behind.
“Tomorrow we’re going up to Silverton,” Dewitt informed us. “I think it’s time the newbies went through initiation,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Ahhh yes, the initiation,” Rex chimed in.
“This can’t be good,” I whispered to KC.
“What is the initiation?” KC asked trying not to look scared.
“Oh it’s no big deal. You just have to eat some Rocky Mountain Oysters,” Dewitt told us.
“That’s easy, I love oysters,” I said proudly. At this the whole grouped laughed so hard I thought they were all going to piss themselves.
“Not these oysters,” Carla, Rex’s wife said howling with laughter. I wasn’t smiling anymore.
“What exactly are Rocky Mountain Oysters?” KC asked.
“Bull’s balls,” Garth told us.
“Deep Fried bull’s balls,” Dewitt added.
“No fucking way am I eating those. I’m sorry, but that is just NOT happening!” I told them with absolute conviction.
“Then you’ll just have to do the walk of shame,” Garth’s quieter, and what I thought was sweeter younger cousin told me.
“What is the walk of shame?” I asked.
“You’ll find out,” he told me with a touch of attitude. I bet if I shave that kids head there’s a 666 engraved in his scalp.

To be continued…

Love it? Hate it? Let me know! Send questions, comments, brownie recipes or random brainfarts to: mrsdiagnosed@yahoo.com


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