Wednesday, July 1, 2015

A Game of Hick and Mouse

Hick is no lover of mice. He has a not-quite phobia of them.

On the occasion when we would get a cute little big-eared field mouse in the house during the first cold snap, Genius was our go-to guy. He'd set the trap, the old-fashioned kind with that snappy bar, after many a sore-fingered trial, and dispose of the critter when trapping was successful. Genius, in fact, was so tender-hearted that he told me, upon one such disposal, "It wasn't quite dead yet, Mom, and I couldn't stand to kill it, so I threw it out on the front porch so the animals could get it." Yeah. I raised a real charmer.

Years ago, when Genius was an infant, and The Pony was a surprise waiting to happen, Hick and his older boys went to the BARn to clean up some junk and work on the Coca Cola loft. According to the boys, Hick grabbed their coveralls off a nail and started putting his on. He reached his hand into the pockets, and started dancing around, making a commotion, and stripped out of those coveralls forthwith.

"You should have seen him, Val," said the oldest, about 14 at the time. "He screamed like a little girl and started flapping his hands! His pockets were full of baby mice, pink, without any hair on them. He made us clean out the pockets and stomp on them."

I guess this experience stuck with Hick. We came home one evening to find him burning the yard. Yeah. Not the best plan for a house covered with cedar siding, surrounded by a wraparound wooden porch. From the look of the char, that fire had been within three feet of the porch. At that moment, the wind had shifted, and it was creeping out into the field part of the yard. The dogs and cats were laying along the burning edge.

"Get those animals away from the fire! What are they doing?"

"They're not hurtin' nothin'. A lawn grows back healthier after a burn. The conservation department does it all the time up in the state park. Watch."

Every few minutes, one of the pets pounced. They were waiting for mice to run from the fire. Hick did not seem to mind. It might have been his plan all along.

Relations weren't always so fractious between Hick and the rodents. He tells a story of his lowest moment. He had just been divorced, and was renting a ratty trailer in a park just off the highway. His mobile home overlooked the park's sewage lagoon. It was almost Christmas. He had lost his partial plate, and was depressed because he was getting ready for his factory's Christmas dinner celebration. "There I was, all alone, with only the thought of that prime rib to cheer me up, and I knew I wouldn't be able to chew it because my teeth were gone. They'd been missing for two weeks. I couldn't afford new teeth. Besides, the dinner was in a couple of hours. I sat there on the toilet with my head in my hands, feeling sorry for myself. I heard something, and looked up. There was a little hole along the baseboard. A mouse hole. And something was stuck in it. I got down and reached in, and it was my partial plate! I washed it off under the faucet, and left for the dinner. That was one of my best Christmases ever."

I guess the game of Hick and mouse is give and take.

14 comments:

  1. That reminds me of the time then, 10 year old grandson went away to scout camp. He was instructed to have his flashlight with him at al times. When he dropped it down the outhouse two holer, which was fascinating to him, he went in after it.

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    1. ACK! Such a good little direction-follower!

      Reminds me of a joke Hick told me. A little boy found a bum fishing around in the outhouse with a long stick.

      "Whatcha doin', mister?"

      "I stopped to use this outhouse, and my coat fell in. I'm gettin' it out."

      "Wait, mister! You don't want that coat now! Maybe my dad can find you another coat."

      "It ain't just the coat, son. My sammich was in the pocket!"

      That's how Hick told it, anyway.

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  2. Ohhh...I hates meeses to pieces!

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    1. Be careful when putting your hands in your pockets.

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  3. Did not see that coming. Hick is full of.....surprises.

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    1. Oh, he's full of it, all right. Surprises, too.

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  4. The story of that lost partial plate and how it was found is a powerful Christmas story you should commit to paper. I think it's a winner.

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    1. But then everyone would know that my husband has rodent teeth!

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  5. With that bit of mouse-connected luck, Hick should build an outbuilding that's a mouse condominium complex...

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  6. I'm with Stephen. It could achieve the proportions of A Christmas Carol and later be made into a musical, with mice that dance with dentures.

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    1. In the spirit of Swan Lake, it could be called Mouse Take.

      Or, perhaps we could have Toothjacker and the Mouse Bring.

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  7. When I read the first sentence I began wondering about all of his various buildings and how he managed to keep them mouse free ...... It was the story of the teeth I liked the best!

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  8. Kathy,
    We used to have two extra cats. They worked hard for a living. The three we have left are sometimes motivated to catch mice for sport, then lose interest. "Meh," they say. "Let's leave this right here on the porch. It's time for a nap."

    Hick takes pleasure in the small things. Teeth. $1000 shoe inserts. $10,000 tractors.

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