The roar of crashing timber followed closely behind
the pair as they broke free from the twisting forest. Neither dared
to glance backward as they sprint across the field. They tore
through the meadow, up the pathway to the cabin and bolted through
the door. There they stood, bent over and panting heavily, propped
up by their hands anchored to their respective thighs.
Roger looked up and saw four figures gawking
at him and Buck.
“We'll I'll be damned, looks like you two've just
about gone to ghost,” said a tall heavy young man with a smoke
hanging from his lower lip. “J'all find yerselves a bear or
somethin'?”
“Y'all won't believe it, me and Buck were comin'
back from the traps,” said Roger between pants, “when suddenly we
hear a scream, and we see this glowin' body floatin' out in the
middle the woods”.
“You fools been seein' things. I reckon ya'll been
smoking somethin' funny and I fancy you worked yourselves up over a
coyot screeamin.”
“I swear on my grandma's grave Jim, I ain't been
in anything funny and that weren't no coyot howlin' off. 'Sides how
you 'splain the glow?” Roger rebutted.
“I'd figure it was Dick,” chimed in a young
woman standing by the couch. “We sent him out to find y'all when it
started getting late. You know how he likes to horse around.”
“Shirley Sue's probably right. He'll probably burst
through the door any minute laughing his ass off. Mike and Jessie
just finished fixin' up some snacks fer the game if y'all want to sit down and
get some grub in ya,” replied Jim.
The two brothers insisted a little more that their
experience in the woods wasn't Dick. However, their protests were
only met with ribbing from their peers. Soon their dissent melted
into cheers as their team scored against their rival. The hour
slipped away as the six friends sat around the television, but there
was no sign of Dick.
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