Yanda Time

April 29, 2007

Farts Like Gold: 54 - Logical Shout

I've always wanted to write a book. And now I'm using this blog to force myself to give it a whirl. Every Sunday night I try to post whatever I've managed to write that week. I'm at 43,849 words now with no end in sight and just coming out of a 10 week dry spell.

It's basically a story about men and women that takes place in a treeplanting camp in Northern British Columbia.

It is very much a first draft. Comments and criticism are much appreciated.

If you want to begin at the beginning you should go to Farts Like Gold: 1.

***********************************************************
I filled a plate with pork chops, mashed potatoes carrots, and sat down at an empty table. Tony sat down across from me.

"How's it going?" he asked.

"Not bad, I guess. You?"

"Good... good...," he said.

"Did you set the tent up?"

"Yes..." he said. "I should warn you. It's not set up quite the same as it was before."

I shrugged.

"It's really comfortable, though. I had a nap in it this afternoon. That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. I had this dream while I was sleeping." Tony leaned forward. His eyes stared directly into mine. "The dream was about us. Well, it was mainly about terrapins, but it was also about us."

"Terrapins?"

"You know... Turtles." He craned his neck and made little flipper motions with his hands. "In the dream I was looking at a big aquarium, a big wall-sized aquarium like in a zoo or something, but it wasn't in a zoo. At this point I didn't realise where it was. Anyway, there were terrapins in the aquarium - three of them. One of them had strange dreadlocky seaweed trailing from its shell, kind of like someone had glued a bunch of flexible inch-thick pipe-cleaners to its back. Another was some kind of weird oblongy terrapin. It was definitely a terrapin, made out of raw organic terrapin material and it was terrapin coloured and everything, but it also looked a lot like a squid without tentacles - just the head part of the squid, except it was a terrapin. You follow?"

"I guess so."

"The third terrapin was just your normal standard issue terrapin. Anyway, they were all duking it out in the tank. It was this big terrapin battle of biblical proportions. You may think terrapins are slow but you have to remember that, fundamentally, they are creatures of the sea. When they are immersed in their element there is no beast more graceful, cunning, or daring. And the aquarium was filled with much terrapin darting and twirling and balletic writhing. And there were also all these beautiful, brightly coloured fish in the tank. They weren't doing much. They mostly just hung in the water in small schools trying to stay out of the way of this massive battle of the terrapins.

"As I watched, the dream camera zoomed back to show that the aquarium was in a small nightclub. You know, the kind with those little round two person tables. There were people sitting at the tables, but I couldn't make out their faces. Both the people and the tables were silhouetted against the brightly lit aquarium. The people were watching the terrapins battle it out. Slowly, the entire tableaux resolved itself into a static image. It all became flat and glossy and the silhouettes of the people became more clearly defined. I suddenly realised the two people in the centre of the picture were you and me. And then I realised I was looking at an album cover with the words 'Logical Shout' at the top and 'Battle of the Terrapins' just below it."

Tony watched me carefully for my reaction. "Do you know what this means?"

I stabbed a carrot with my fork and put it in my mouth. "No idea," I said.

Tony held both his arms over his head. "The two of us -- we are Logical Shout! That's what the dream meant! We are destined to form a band called 'Logical Shout' and release an album called 'Battle of the Terrapins'! It is our destiny."

I shook my head. "Dude. It's your destiny to be rock god. Not mine. My destiny is to get out of this camp and drink until I either forget about Lucy or throw up. Beyond that, my fate is a little fuzzy."

"No, no, no," said Tony. "We're a team, the two of us. We're a duo. Don't you remember how we played together? We were a hit! We were better than Simon and Garfunkel! Do you honestly think they could have rocked out to the Lemon Song as well as we did?"

"Simon and Garfunkel?"

"Never mind. Listen, 'Logical Shout' - it's brilliant!" He was nodding frantically now and his arms kept shooting straight above his head, seemingly at random. "One little nap and I've been inspired with a band name and an album title. We should spend a couple of weeks here. You can make us enough money to fund a demo and I'll write an album's worth of songs. Can you imagine the bass solo for something called 'Battle of the Terrapins'? It will throb into your body through your knee joints and suck the juices from your heart."

"Tony, man, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I'm not staying in camp. I'm leaving as soon as I possibly can. I'm not comfortable here. Even if I did stay, I'm not in any shape to make anybody any money. In case I haven't mentioned it before, my hand is broken." I held it up. "And, anyway, why am I the one making the money?"

Tony dropped his arms to the table. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Your hand is broken. Your heart is broken. So what. Fix one and you fix the other. What did you do all day today? Alistair saw you chopping up trees and pounding posts into the ground. Your hand didn't stop you from doing that, did it? And the reason you'd be the one making the money here is because this is your world. Just like the circus world is Alvin's world. And my world is the world of creativity - the world of song and spirit and genius."

"Well in my world, there are no pork chops left." I showed him my empty plate. "I'm going to try to find out what's going on tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of your dinner." I stood up and took my plate over to the guys doing dishes.

Posted by YandaMan at 10:37 PM | Comments (3)

April 22, 2007

Farts Like Gold: 53 - Watching the river

Virginia had tracked down Steve, the owner of the company who was in a hotel room in High Level. He and Brendan and Joe were working on a plan to get the trees into camp tomorrow. It sounded like there were basically two options - using a helicopter, which would be easy but be expensive; and using a boat which would be much more difficult, more dangerous, but probably a bit cheaper. My money was on the boat.

I wasn't doing anything useful in camp and I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone so I walked down to the river and sat on the remains of the bridge. I spent most of the day there. A lot of the time I just watched the river to see if it looked like it was going to dry up any time soon. It didn't, so I started to think about the best spots to dock a boat on either side of the river so we could get trees across it. After a while, as word spread around the camp, groups of people started showing up at the river to see the damage for themselves. I avoided them as much as possible.

Around about noon I walked back to camp. Everyone had heard about the bridge by then but it didn't seem to bother them. They all looked relaxed and happy - pleased have a day off and a bit of excitement to talk about. I made myself a couple of sandwiches and ate them standing up by the lunch table.

I borrowed a shovel and a polaski -- which is a fire fighting tool with an axe on one end -- and went back down to the river. I spent the afternoon building a docking area for the boat. I flattened down a path from the road to just downstream of the remains of the bridge. I chopped some branches and logs and laid them down to make a firm platform on the bank. I cleaned up as much of the loose debris from the bridge as I could and pounded a couple posts on either side of my docking area to tie the boat to.

I couldn't be sure it would ever be used but it was something to keep my mind occupied. I finished up around dinner time and headed back to camp.

>> Farts Like Gold: 54

Posted by YandaMan at 11:34 PM

March 19, 2007

Farts Like Gold: 52 - location location location

Virginia was right; I was pissed. In fact, right then, a more accurate description was that I was in denial. I still couldn't accept the fact that I was stuck in camp. I didn't want to deal with it. So when Tony came by to ask if we were setting up my tent again, I sent him off to deal with it on his own.

"But I don't know anything about putting up a tent?" he said. "What if I put the wrong spot?"

"Just put it in the same place it was before," I said. "It's a great spot. Trust me. Besides -- everyone's in camp today. There are a ton of people around who would be happy to give you a hand. I just want to sit for a minute and figure out how the hell we're going to get out of here."

"Okay," he said.

Of course, when he got to my old tent spot, he discovered that Lucy had set up there. After all, I was right; it was a great spot. And, as far as she knew, I wasn't going to be using it, so why not snag it?

Tony probably wisely decided that this wasn't a piece of news I needed to hear right at that moment.

Lucy was hanging up some wet clothes on a line she'd strung beside the tent when Tony showed up. She was surprised but seemed pleased to see him. "Hey, what are you doing back?" she said. "Decided to stay a while? Give planting a try? Did you jump out of the truck as soon as Kent slowed down?"

"Well, not quite," said Tony. "The bridge is out. Kent's back too. We're kind of stuck. Not that I'm not willing to give planting a try. I would have been happy to stay anyway. In fact, since I'm here I wouldn't mind sticking a few trees in the ground if I get the chance. Who knows? It might be the life for me."

"Uh-huh," said Lucy. The line she had hung the clothes on was sagging so she tightened it up a bit.

Tony shifted awkwardly. "I see you moved your tent."

"Yeah. I didn't realise you guys would be coming back."

"The world is full of surprises," said Tony. He shifted the pack on his shoulder. "Kent asked me to set our tent back up. I think we're probably going to be here for a couple more days."

"Uh huh."

"I'm just not sure where I'd put it. Kent said to put it here but..."

"Yeah," she said. "I see. And I've just moved in. It's a problem."

"I don't suppose there's any chance..." said Tony.

"I could move my tent back?" asked Lucy. "It wouldn't make any sense. If I take my tent down then we'll have two tents to put up. The two of you are leaving soon anyway. The simplest thing to do would be to find a new spot for your tent. In fact, why don't you put your tent on my old spot?"

Tony sensed that I would be none too pleased with this plan, but he was in a mood to avoid conflict. After a moment's reflection he decided Lucy's plan was the simplest in the short-term so he agreed.

"Great," she said. "I'll show you where it is."

>> Farts Like Gold: 53

Posted by YandaMan at 12:11 AM | Comments (1)

January 7, 2007

Farts Like Gold: 51 - phone call to Virginia

Cassandra and April were sitting on a bench beside the dining tent smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee when Tony and I drove back into camp. I felt a sudden lethargy when I stopped the truck. I couldn't bring myself to get out so I just rolled down the window.

"We're back," I announced. "Are Brendan or Joe around?"

April shook her head. "They're out on the blocks. They left a bit after you did. Did you forget something?"

Tony popped his head out of his window. "The bridge is gone! Absolutely destroyed. Poof! Presto-chango! No bridge."

Tony's excitement made the truck seem suddenly confined. I left him to describe things to Cassie and April and headed for the radio in the dining tent. Everyone inside stared at me as I entered. The rumour mill had been working overtime that morning.

Brendan was the first to answer when I asked them both to get back to me. "What's up?" he asked.

"The bridge is out. We're cut off."

There was nothing but silence for about 30 seconds. Then Brendan clicked his mike and said "Well... shitsicles on toast." Another pause. "Right, well, I'll head back into camp. Keep trying to raise Joe. Maybe we can fix it."

I doubted we could do anything about the bridge. There was no bridge left to fix. "I'll keep trying Joe," I replied. "See you soon."

I got a hold of Joe a few minutes later. Both he and Brendan met up at the remains of the bridge. After a few minutes staring into the river, they drove back to camp together.

Brendan phoned his contact at the Ministry of Forests while Joe and I had a look at the maps. The maps didn't give us much cause for hope. It looked like there was another bridge but it was so far upriver that it didn't help us. Even if we did get across the river, there was nothing connecting us to the main road system. We'd still be stranded. We'd just be stranded on the other side of the river. We were stuck on a road to nowhere.

After Brendan phoned the ministry, he called Virginia at the office back in Edmonton.

"Sweet buttery waffles!" she said when she heard about the bridge. "Is everyone all right?"

"Well, a few folks are a bit hungover, but aside from that everyone's good."

"How are you doing for food and fuel?"

"As far as food and propane goes, we're good for about a week. Gas... Depends on how much driving we do."

"Well, sounds like that shouldn't be too much of a problem," cackled Virginia. "And, most important, how are you doing for trees? Are you going to be able to keep working?"

"We've probably got two days worth of trees left and there's a reefer due tomorrow which should give us another five, give or take."

"So, basically, as long as you can get the trees across the river tomorrow, you're good for a week."

"Well, yeah, I guess so."

"What about Kent? Which side of the river is he on? Did he make it out?"

"Nope, He's the one who told us about the bridge."

"Ha! That poor bastard! I bet he's pissed. Oh well. Adversity builds character. Tell him I said that."

>> Farts Like Gold: 52

Posted by YandaMan at 11:38 PM | Comments (1)

December 31, 2006

Farts Like Gold: 50 - the Bridge

Back at camp Lucy walked down to where my tent used to be. She sat down on the log I used to sit on to put on my boots in the morning and took a sip of her coffee. Her sleeping bag and several of her clothes were strewn about the ground. Fortunately for her, I hadn't thrown them that far and so, for the most part, they were on ground that had been shielded by my tarp and was fairly dry.

It was a good camping spot. The ground was flat and well drained. The log she was sitting on was a convenient feature, and I'd left a laundry line up between a couple of trees. There was a good view from the log through the trees down to the creek we got our water from. The best part was that it was on its own. Towards the creek, the ground started to slope down steeply enough that you couldn't camp on it. Above the camping spot and on one side the trees were dense enough that there was no room to put up a tent. Above this, the hill started sloping up again.

Lucy absorbed all this as if seeing it for the first time. She balanced her coffee mug on the log. Then she gathered and folded up all of her clothes and placed them carefully on the log beside the coffee cup. She hung her sleeping bag on the laundry line to dry and in general, tidied the area up a bit. Then she went back to her own tent and stuffed all of her belongings in her backpack. She spent the next hour and a half moving her tent from where she had originally set it up to where my tent had been.

While Lucy was stealing my tent spot, Tony and I were checking out the remains of the bridge. What had been a small, quiet river was now a raging torrent. The bridge had been supported on either bank and in the middle. The middle support, along with most of the deck of the bridge itself, was now gone. In its place was a new rapid where the water roiled over the foundation of the missing support.

"Are you sure this is the way we came last night?" asked Tony.

I looked at him in a way carefully calculated to inform him he was an idiot. "Yes," I said. "I'm sure we came this way. This is the only road into camp."

"But not the only road out of camp?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, oddly enough, the only road into camp is the only road out of camp," I said.

"But there was a road heading up the mountain. That must go somewhere. What if we turned left instead of right when we left camp?"

"That road goes up the mountain. It's a logging road. It doesn't go anywhere useful."

"Surely it must connect with something."

"I suppose it might," I admitted. "Brendan and Joe might know. I haven't looked closely enough at the maps. But I'm not optimistic. It basically just ends in a maze of cutblocks."

"What do we do now? Should one of us swim and go for help?"

Despite the insanity of this suggestion, I was oddly tempted by it. Yes, there was a good chance I might die attempting it, but at least I wouldn't have to go back to camp.

On the other hand, the water looked damn cold.

"Or we could just use the phone back at camp," I said.

"Oh yeah. Good idea."

>> Farts Like Gold: 51

Posted by YandaMan at 11:41 PM | Comments (1)

December 3, 2006

Farts Like Gold: 49 - Lucy and Kent

Lucy was making coffee when Brendan and I walked into the dining tent. I felt like I was looking at a ghost. It was silly but my instinct was to turn and run.

Instead I stood there and took one slow, deep breath. She looked up just as I started moving again. She smiled and I thought, "Okay, don't be foolish. Everything's fine." I decided then and there that I wasn't going to ask any questions. What was the point? I was leaving camp. It was one random night. She didn't expect me to be here. If I hadn't been here I wouldn't have suspected a thing. And, besides, most likely she was innocent.

"Hi Kent," she said.

"Hi Lucy."

I leaned forward and kissed her. She took a sip of coffee almost as soon as my lips left hers. There was something about that one small gesture that made me change my mind. My resolve had lasted all of ten seconds. I sat down on the bench facing her with my back to the table.

"I couldn't find you last night." I said. "Where were you?"

"Well, you know - party night. It was pretty crazy."

"It wasn't that crazy. And this camp isn't that big." I was angry now. "You weren't in your tent. You weren't in my tent. You weren't in the dryshack, the dining tent, the cookbus -- any of the trucks. And it was pouring rain."

"Well, you know. I just got to talking to someone. And we wanted to get away from everyone. And it was raining and so I just spent the night there. It was no big deal."

It took a lot of effort to stay sitting down. I knew if I stood up, I wouldn't be able to keep still. Standing would lead to pacing. Pacing would lead to arm waving. As it was, my voice was getting louder despite my efforts to control it. "Whose tent was it, Lucy? Who did you just get to talking with? Who did you spend the night with?"

She backed away slightly and leaned against the breakfast table. She held the cup of coffee in front of her mouth. "It doesn't matter - just a friend."

"Well, it wasn't Kathy. It wasn't Cassie. It wasn't April. It wasn't Amber. It wasn't Matt. It wasn't Paul. It wasn't Alistair. Do you want me to go on? The camp's not that big. Even if it's a secret, it's not going to stay that way. Somebody's got to know and they're bound to talk. You know what it's like."

"Well it doesn't have to stay a secret for long."

"What?"

"It doesn't have to stay a secret for long," she repeated. "How long until you leave me again? An hour? Two? It only has to last until you're out of camp. And then when will I see you again? A couple of weeks? A month? At the end of the season?"

"Leave you again!" I said. "I broke my hand! It's not like I said I was going out for a pack of cigarettes and never came back."

"Look," she said. "I'm not saying I did anything wrong. I'm just saying -- how was I supposed to know you were in camp? If I'd known you were in camp, I would have been with you."

I stood up. I didn't care if I started waving my arms now. "You're crazy. I don't know why I hadn't seen it before. You are completely amoral. Keep your little secret. I don't care who you were with last night. I don't even care if you slept with them. I don't care if you talked all night. And you're right. Who knows when we'll see each other again? Maybe we should just pretend we've never met. Maybe it's time to start pretending right now." I walked away.

"Kent... Don't go."

"Tony, have you got your shit together?"

Tony was standing by the door, goggle-eyed. "Yeah, Kent. All ready to go. But what about your tent and stuff?"

I'd forgotten all about my tent. I'd meant to pack it up once I got up but Tony was still sleeping. And now I just wanted to get the hell out of camp.

I looked back. Lucy hadn't moved from the breakfast table. She looked distraught, but she hadn't actually moved. She still held her coffee up near her face. I continued through the door. Tony followed.

I went straight to my tent. I untied the tarp and flung it onto the path. It got a bit tangled in the brush on either side but I ignored it. I opened the tent and threw everything I could find of Lucy's out the door. I left all of my own stuff inside. I zipped up the tent and collapsed it. Tony stayed on the other side of the tarp and watched as I pulled up the tent pegs and removed the fibreglass supports from their sleeves. I pulled the tarp forward overtop of Lucy's stuff and dragged the tent and its contents onto the tarp. I wrapped the whole mess up in the tarp and hoisted it onto my shoulder. Tony started picking up Lucy's clothes. "Leave them," I said. I turned and walked down the path, dragging my load through the branches on either side.

At the truck Brendan helped Tony and I pack our gear and some bags of garbage around the quad.

"It's none of my business, but maybe you should give Lucy another chance," said Brendan. "You know what party nights are like. Everything will probably work out all right. Don't take it too seriously."

I didn't say anything. I just tightened up the ratchet strap on my side and got into the truck.

Tony waved to grab Brendan's attention. "Don't worry about him," he said. "He gets this way sometimes. Strong silent type. You know the kind. I'll talk to him."

"Well, have a good trip." He shook Tony's hand and then said to me, "And Kent, give me a call when you get to town."

I nodded. Tony got in the truck. I started driving as soon as he shut the door.

The road was much drier but still slightly slick. I drove angry and the truck slithered around on the road.

I could tell I was making Tony nervous. "Maybe we should stop for a couple of minutes," he said.

"Not yet. In a while." I wanted to make sure I was well and truly out of camp.

After a couple of miles we came up to the bridge. On this side of the river the road curved down and then up as it approached the bridge. As soon as we started going around the curve I could see it was gone. It had washed away during the night. I kicked down hard on the brake pedal. The truck skidded into the ditch. Without taking my foot off the brake, I yanked the transmission into four wheel drive, then got off the brakes and onto the gas. The truck bounced through the ditch and up on to the other side. Tony hit the ceiling of the cab. I turned the wheel and the truck bounced through the ditch again and it managed to crawl out on to the road. When I stopped, it was almost perfectly sideways in the middle of the road.

>> Farts Like Gold: 50

Posted by YandaMan at 11:53 PM | Comments (1)

November 26, 2006

Farts Like Gold: 48 - Cheeseballs and Scotch

"Cheese balls and scotch go surprisingly well together," said Cassie. "I wonder if there's a recipe there. Cheeseball and scotch pie, maybe. My aunt makes a chocolate and Guinness cake that is yum yum yummy. Best cake I ever had. I should really get the recipe off of her."

"Sounds like it should be a hit. Chocolate and booze. Aren't they two of the three deadly sins you mentioned?"

She shook her head. "Chocolate and cigarettes. Although, I guess technically they're not sins. They're vices. The sin is lusting after chocolate and cigarettes. Lust is a sin. Chocolate is a vice. Mix them up and you end up with lice." She sang this last part softly to herself.

"You are one enigmatic cook," I said.

She sat up and gave me a firm, disapproving look. "I think you'll find it's pronounced 'kook'," she said.

I laughed.

Cassandra smiled and settled back down against the seat.

The windows were beginning to steam up. I started the truck so I could turn on the heater.

Cassandra reached out and touched my arm. "Don't do that," she said.

"Aren't you cold?"

"I don't want to get too comfortable. I might fall asleep." she said. "And I like the quiet."

I switched the truck off and used my sleeve to wipe the condensation off the windshield in front of me. Then I leaned over and did the same for Cassie. I'm not sure why I bothered, really. There was nothing to see.

We sat there for a while without saying anything. I was tempted to stretch out an arm and try to get a bit closer to Cassie for warmth. But the bottle of whiskey in my lap reminded me I might be drunk. And the truck itself reminded me I would be leaving camp the next day. Instead I just told Cassie I was tired and was I was going to bed.

We got out of the truck and she walked with me to the dining tent.

"Good night, Kent. Sleep well. Don't let the bedbugs bite."

"You too." I held the flap of the tent open for her to walk through and made a final check to see if Lucy was there. She wasn't.

The concert in the dry shack had broken up but it was still a much quieter crowd than the one in the dining tent. Tony was teaching Kathy how to play something on his bass. Everyone else was sitting around the wood stove talking in twos and threes. No Lucy.

Back in my tent I suddenly felt exhausted. I fell asleep almost immediately.

Tony showed up a couple of hours later. I woke up when he undid the zipper on the door of the tent.

"Kent!" he whispered. "You awake? What a fantastic night! I mean, I've been to some pretty amazing parties, but never one like that. Everyone was so friendly. I think they really dug my bass playing. I taught Kathy some riffs. She's a fantastic girl, that Kathy."

I rolled over and put my hand on his shoulder to stop him from coming into the tent with his boots on. He shined the flashlight in my face. I squinted.

"Boots," I said. "Mud." I was still somewhat bleary-brained and incapable of full sentences.

"Oh right." Halfway into the tent, he dropped onto his belly and kicked his boots off while lying on his front. His flashlight shone on some of Lucy's clothes. "Hey!" he said. "You've got women's underpants in your tent. Are those for the gown plant?"

"A friend's," I said. "Get in. You're letting the mosquitos in."

"Right," he said. "Don't want to let the bedbugs bite."

Tony crawled into the tent and zipped the door closed. I drifted off as he nattered to himself and killed mosquitos.

I woke up around 8 the next morning. I put my clothes in a heap by the door and climbed carefully over Tony. I dressed outside, standing on the sides of Tony's boots until I got my own on.

It had stopped raining. There was even a hint of a blue sky to the west. A half a dozen early risers were in the dining tent. April and Joe were sitting by the wood stove. I poured myself a coffee and a bowl of cereal and joined them.

"How'd you sleep?" asked April.

"Not bad," I said. "You?"

"Pretty good, thanks."

That was about it for conversation. After I finished my coffee, Joe and I went outside to unload the truck. We yanked on the tarp in a few places to drain the water that had pooled on top of it. Then we folded the tarp up like a bedsheet on top of the quad. There were some other bits and bobs that Gord and Virginia had sent up with Tony and me. We unloaded these and put them away.

The quad was strapped down with a number of ratchet straps. After we undid these, we pulled the ramps out and leaned them against the tailgate. Brendan showed up as Joe was riding the quad off the truck.

"Hey," Brendan said. "I didn't expect to see you here this morning. Brought the quad up, did you?"

"Yes," I said. "Got into camp late last night."

"That's great. Really great," he said. "Must have been after I went to bed." He helped me slide the ramps back into the truck.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Me," said Brendan. "Oh fine. Best hangover after a night off I've ever had."

"Maybe because you went to bed so early," I said.

"Yeah, that must be it," he said. He closed the tailgate of the truck. "So, what are you plans? Are you staying in camp for a few days?"

"No. We're leaving today. Gord wants the dead quad back as soon as possible. I'm sure I can stay and help out for a bit today if you need it."

"No, that's fine," said Brendan. "I'm sure we can round up some help if we need to. You're right. We should get the other quad back down to Gord. Who knows when some bonehead is going to wreck another one." He grinned awkwardly and stepped away from the truck.

I got in and backed the pumpkin up to the flatbed with the dead quad on it. Brendan guided me. Joe flipped down the tailgate when I was close. Then I nudged the two trucks together. I stayed in the truck while Brendan and Joe dragged the quad over into the pumpkin and strapped it down. When they were done, they jumped down and I drove forward to allow Joe to close the tailgate.

Tony was just putting his boots on when Lucy showed up at my tent. She gave a little shriek and stopped suddenly when she saw him.

"Hi there," said Tony.

"Hi," said Lucy. She was still wearing the dress from the night before.

"Looking for Kent?" he asked.

"No. I mean, yes. I mean, I just came to get some clothes."

"Ah, you must be Kent's friend. I'm Kent's friend, too," he said. "My name's Tony." He stood up and offered her his hand.

Lucy smiled and shook it. "Pleased to meet you." She stepped around him and swivelled into the tent. "Is Kent here?" she asked. "Do you know when he got into camp?" She pulled the jeans on under the dress while she talked.

"We got in last night. The party was in full swing. Were you at the party? That's a great dress, by the way. I can't believe I didn't notice you if you were wearing that dress."

"Well, it's the last anybody will see of this dress for a while," said Lucy. She wriggled around and began to pull it over her head. Tony was too surprised to turn away. "Where is he now?" she asked as she tossed the dress into the back of the tent.

"What? Who? Kent?" said Tony. "Don't know. He slept beside me but he wasn't here when I got up. That is, when I say he slept beside me -- I mean he slept beside me, if you know what I mean. I mean we didn't sleep together. We're not that kind of friends."

"I know what you mean." Lucy put on a tee shirt and a sweatshirt. "Kent and I are those kind of friends. Or at least we were. This is bad timing, that's what this is."

"What?"

"Nothing," she said. "Ready to go?" She asked. She held her hand out for Tony to help her up.

>> Farts Like Gold: 49

Posted by YandaMan at 10:33 PM | Comments (1)

November 19, 2006

Farts Like Gold: 47 - it won't bake a pie

Lucy wasn't in the dining tent. Neither was Tony. In general, it seemed that the party had thinned out quite a bit. There wasn't anyone there I felt like talking to. I pulled a bottle of Scotch out of my office box and used a drizzle of it to rinse out an abandoned mug. I took the bottle and the mug with me and stepped out into the night.

The dryshack was crowded but oddly quiet. About a dozen people were huddled around Tony who seemed to be playing something on his bass. It was an electric bass and he didn't have an amp. I couldn't hear anything from where I was just inside tent. Lucy wasn't in the crowd.

I moved forward to just behind the circle of people listening to Tony. I still couldn't hear much but at least I could see his fingers move. Somehow that helped fill in the music. Everyone was chilled out and focussed on the quiet, oddly tinny bass licks Tony played. I stood behind them for a while, but there wasn't anything even vaguely comfortable left to sit on and so I left.

It wasn't raining any more but the wind regularly knocked sprays of wetness off the trees that towered above the far side of the shack. I didn't want to go back to the dining tent and to go back to my own tent would be to admit defeat. I walked alongside the dining tent. It glowed yellow in the darkness. The truck that Tony and I had driven up in was parked beside the cookbus. I put my mug and the Scotch bottle on the hood of the truck and leaned against the bumper. I was far enough away from the dining tent and dryshack for it to be properly dark. I leaned back and looked up. I couldn't see any stars but I could make out the silhouette of the treetops against the moon-washed clouds.

The folding door of the cookbus creaked open. Cassandra stood on the bottom step. "You lurking around my kitchen, again?" she said.

"Just enjoying the break in the rain," I said.

She poked her head out the door of the bus and looked up. "Any stars, yet?" she asked.

"Not yet, but I live in hope."

Cassandra swung down into the mud outside the bus. She walked over and leaned against the truck beside me. She looked up at the sky. "Hope's a good thing to have sometimes but it won't bake a pie."

I thought about what she said for a minute. "That makes absolutely no sense whatsoever," I said.

"Yeah, well, mystery, thy name is me, I guess," she said. "It's freezing out here. Let's go back inside." She pushed herself off the truck and waited for me.

I didn't move. "I'm not really in a party mood," I said.

She stood there for a minute, then said, "Well, what about the truck, then?"

"Yeah, why not. Tony probably stashed some cheese balls behind the seat for an emergency."

I got in the driver's side. Cassandra got in the passenger side. I was right about the cheese balls. There was a bag behind the seat. Cassie leaned forward while I pulled the seat down and fished them out. We drank scotch from my mug and shared them.

>> Farts Like Gold: 48

Posted by YandaMan at 10:43 PM | Comments (2)

November 5, 2006

Farts Like Gold: 46 - awake

There was a lull in the rain. I took the opportunity to drag Tony away from the party. We went back to the truck. I untied the tarp and peeled it back. I grabbed my bag. Tony took one of his suitcases. He followed as I led the way to the tent. Tony put his suitcase on a patch of dry ground under my tarp. I unzipped the door of the tent and knelt just outside as I rearranged things to try to make some more room for us. I moved Lucy thermarest and mine a little further apart. Our two sleeping bags were zipped together to make one. I shoved these onto the far thermarest and asked Tony for his sleeping bag. He got fished it out of his suitcase and passed it over. He sat back down on the suitcase. I lay his bag out on Lucy's thermarest and arranged a couple of pillows for us.

"This tarp is great," said Tony. "Sure gives you a lot more space. Do you ever just sleep outside of the tent under the tarp?"

I swiveled around and sat inside the tent. "No," I said. I started taking off my boots.

"Why not?"

"It's warmer in the tent. And drier. And there are no bugs. That's the main reason, I guess. No mosquitoes. And you're less likely to get eaten by a bear." I scooted backwards into the tent. "Coming in?"

Tony stayed sitting on the suitcase. He ran his hand over his wet hair and wiped it on his jeans.

"I was thinking I might go back to the party," he said.

"Oh, yeah," I said. "Sure. Go ahead." I was sitting crosslegged just inside the tent. I rummaged around in one of the side pockets and found a flashlight. "Here take this. It'll help you find the tent again."

"Thanks," said Tony. "Why don't you come with me? Maybe your friend Lucy will show up."

"Thanks, but I think I'll just get an early night," I said. "I'm sure I'll see her tomorrow."

"All right," he said. "I promise I won't stay up to late." He turned the flashlight on and headed back towards the party.

The truth was that I wasn't sure I wanted to see Lucy tonight - at least not any more. On the drive up I had a mental image in my head of arriving at camp. She'd come running up, a smoke in one hand, and a beer in the other. She'd throw her arms around me and ask me about my hand. We'd talk and laugh and then we'd sneak off to my tent together. This same tent that I was now in alone.

It was probably no big deal but the fact that I couldn't find her weirded me out. I was half worried something bad had happened to her and half worried that she'd hooked up with somebody else. And maybe it was cowardice but I didn't want to be the one to find either of those things out. Plus, I knew that if she did turn up now, even if she had just been off talking to somebody and everything was all kosher and innocent, I'd still act like a basket case. And that would be fine if it was just the two of us alone, but in the middle of the party I'd feel like an idiot.

And besides, if she did come back to the party, somebody would tell her I was here and she'd know where to find me.

Why the Hell did I offer to let Tony sleep here? What if she does show up tonight? Really, it's far more likely she'd sleep in her own sleeping bag than she'd bunk down with a friend. I am such an idiot.

I lay in my sleeping bag for about an hour, trying not to think about where Lucy might be and trying to figure out what I'd do if both Tony and Lucy showed up tonight. I kept telling myself I was being an idiot and she was probably back at the party right now having a good time and I was lying here like a moody idiot.

I realised I might as well get up and check. I wasn't getting any sleep anyway and, after all, it was a party night. If she was there, then that might be weird. If she wasn't there, well, that might be weird too. But it was definitely weird that I was lying in my tent wide awake when there was a party going on.

>> Farts Like Gold: 47

Posted by YandaMan at 11:53 PM | Comments (1)

October 29, 2006

Farts Like Gold: 45 - No Lucy

We left Cassandra alone in the cookbus. We walked down the steps into the dining tent. Each of us carried at least one bowl of junk food. We were greeted like conquering heroes. Willing volunteers relieved of us of our bowls of goodies almost immediately. It felt good to be back in camp. It was great to see everyone again. Tony was agog.

"Does everyone dress like this every time you have a party?" he asked.

At least that's what I assumed he was asking me. It was pretty loud where we were, on the edge of the impromptu dance floor about 3 metres from the ghetto blaster.

"Gown plant!" I shouted.

"What?" he asked.

"Ask Kathy," I said. I tapped her on the shoulder and pointed at Tony. "Explain the clothes!" I said. She nodded and grabbed his arm. They made their way further into the tent away from the noise. I stepped back up on the steps to survey the crowd. I was keen to find Lucy. I couldn't spot her anywhere in the crowd. Paul brought me a mug of punch.

"It's got beetroot in it," he said.

"Cool! Have you seen Lucy?" I asked.

"Haven't seen her lately," he said. "I think she and Kathy and Brendan were going to read a book or something. Forget about her. Drink the punch."

I drank some of the punch. It wasn't bad. It had kind of a weird, earthy taste. Paul refilled my mug from a pitcher he carried. I wormed my way through the crowd. Everyone asked about my hand and how town was. If I'd seen any movies. If I'd brought any newspapers with me. No one could tell me where Lucy was.

Just because there's a party, doesn't mean everyone's in a partying mood. Some people had probably gone to bed. Lucy's wasn't the only face that seemed to be missing. Brendan and Joe weren't there either. I wasn't too surprised about Joe. He tended to be an early to bed kind of guy and there was a good chance he and Brendan had a full work schedule tomorrow. I was surprised Brendan wasn't up though. He was usually a big one for parties. Lucy, too, come to think of it. But then maybe she missed me more than I thought she would. Maybe she'd gone to bed.

I checked my tent first. She wasn't there. Then I checked her tent. Not there either. It looked like she was using her tent as kind of a crawl-in closet. There were clothes strewn all around inside it. It didn't look like she was sleeping there. My tent held both our thermarests and sleeping bags. No Lucy though.

I went back to the party. I peeked in the dry shack. Alistair and Cameron and Amber were in there. They were laughing and there was a heavy smell of dope in the air. No Lucy.

I caught up with Tony and Kathy in the dining tent. Tony was explaining his recent career change from office guy to rock and roller. "You have to understand, it's a completely different lifestyle," he told her. "Before, I had to be in the office by 9 every morning. I did the same thing every day. Now that I'm a musician, the work is much more eclectic. Earlier today I was unloading a truck in the rain. Who knows what I'll be doing tomorrow. It's a much more organic, artistic way of life. It's a bit like being in the circus."

Tony now had on the bra that Kathy had been wearing over top of her shirt. He had stuffed it with a pair of oranges. One had become lost somewhere along the way.

"Hey, Kathy," I said. "Do you have any idea what happened to Lucy? I can't seem to find her anywhere."

"No," she said. "Are you sure she didn't just go to bed?"

"Well, she was sleeping in my tent. She's not there now."

"Don't know, then. Sorry," she said.

"Paul mentioned something about a book," I said.

"Oh yeah! He made this killer punch. It had beetroot in it. So we got to talking about the book Jitterbug Perfume. It's got beetroot in it as well," Kathy looked down and scraped a dried clump of mud off of her skirt. "We were all going to read it together, but I got distracted or something. She's probably just reading the book somewhere. Maybe she's having a pajama party with Amber or Nicole. I wouldn't worry about it."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. She'll turn up. I should have let her know I was coming." I sat down on the bench beside Tony. "Listen, Tony," I said. "It looks like I've got some extra space in my tent. Rather than setting up your tent in the rain in the dark, do you want to bunk with me tonight?"

"Oh, Man!" he said. "That would be great. We can have our own little pajama party. Can Kathy sleep with us too?"

Kathy laughed. I shook my head. "I don't think so," I said. "The tent's not that big. If Lucy does show up tonight, it's going to be hard enough to explain you, never mind the ever-sexy Kathleen-jellybean."

>> Farts Like Gold: 46

Posted by YandaMan at 11:58 PM | Comments (1)

October 22, 2006

Farts Like Gold: 44 - the Three Deadly Sins

I yanked open the door of the cookbus and went inside. I held a plastic bag of goodies from the truckstop above my head with my left hand.

"I'm back!" I said. "And I come bearing gifts!"

Cassie, April, Kathy, Matt, and Paul were in the cookbus. They stood at the far end of the bus just past the stoves. Tony stood behind me.

Kathy was sitting on the freezer. She hopped onto the floor and ran up and gave me a hug. "Goddamnit, you smell good!" she said. She stepped back and looked over my shoulder.

"Hey! Fresh blood!" She reached around me to offer a handshake to Tony. "I'm Kathy," she said.

He shook her hand and stared at the bra she wore over her shirt. "I'm Tony," he said to her breasts.

I stepped around Kathy and joined the rest of the group. April kissed me on the cheek. "Welcome back," she said.

Cassie stood in front of me for a moment. She took one step forward and put her arms around me. She pressed her face into my neck and stayed there for a couple of beats. Then she stepped back, leaving her hands on my shoulders. "I'm just a wee bit drunk," she said carefully.

Matt and Paul thought this was hilarious. They whooped and started slamdancing off each other and off of the counters and ceiling of the bus. April looked at Cassie. Cassie leaned back against the counter and nodded to herself. "I'm drunk," she said.

April grabbed Paul. He stopped. "Chill," she said. "No dancing in the kitchen."

Matt crashed into Paul. Paul stumbled a bit. He turned around. "No dancing in the kitchen," he said.

"I NEED to dance," said Matt. He held his hands up apologetically and backed up, dancing towards the exit.

Paul turned back to April. "Logically, then, we need to leave the kitchen," he said.

Matt half-danced, half fell down the steps out of the bus into the dining tent. Paul followed. He stopped on the steps outside the bus and announced, "There will be no dancing in the kitchen tonight!"

The crowd in the dining tent cheered. I doubt that anyone could have made out what he actually said, but when you're in a party mood, it's easier to cheer an announcement than to stop and ask questions.

"You picked a good night to come back," said April. "How's your hand?"

I placed my plastic bags of goodies on the counter.

"Hey, yeah -- gifts," said Cassandra. "What did you bring me?"

Kathy shrieked. "Chocolate! I bet you've got chocolate!" She came skipping up to us. "Please, please, please can I have some?"

"Tony has the chocolate," I said. "I've got crappy magazines and tobacco."

"The three deadly sins," said Cassandra. "Chocolate, smokes, and the National Enquirer." She peered into the bag. "Still, three out of seven isn't bad. There are worse sins."

"How's your hand?" April asked again.

"Oh, right," I said. "Not bad. It's not a hundred percent, but I'm not totally useless." I gestured at the bags of goodies. "See, I can still shop."

Cassie pulled a magazine out of the bag. It was a Cosmopolitan. She stared at the cover. "Glossy," she said. "Glossy, glossy, glossy. The glossy girls get all the guys."

Tony started removing junk food from his bags. He placed each item carefully on the freezer. As each one was revealed, Kathy bounced up and down with excitement.

"I hadn't really thought of chocolate as sinful," said Tony. "Kent told me how the food here was so great and how good the cooks were. Are you girls all cooks?" he asked. "I hope you're not upset that I brought crappy junk food into camp. From what Kent said, I thought it would be a nice change."

"I'm not a cook," said Kathy. "I don't cook anything. I eat. I eat a lot. I especially like eating chocolate."

"Don't worry about it," said April. "Cassie and I are the cooks for the camp. I don't think she was serious about chocolate being a sin."

"Oh, right," I said. "This is Tony. Tony, this is April and Cassandra. And you've met Kathy."

"It is a rare pleasure to meet you both," said Tony. "I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to breakfast tomorrow. Not that I'm hungry right now or anything. I just hear your breakfasts are amazing. Will there be breakfast burritos tomorrow? Kent was telling me about breakfast burritos. They sound fantastic."

I put my hand on Tony's shoulder. "Listen," I said. "It's great to be back, but I think I might go join the party and see if I can find Lucy. Come on, Tony. I'll find you a drink."

Cassie put the magazine down. "We've got drinks here," she said. "I should have offered before. Beer or Bailey's?"

"Thanks, but I should really go say hi to everyone else. Why don't you come down with us?"

Cassandra picked up the magazine again. "Maybe later. I've got to catch up on my celebrity gossip."

April started putting Tony's junk food into bowls "I'll come with you," she said. "I spend enough time in this kitchen as it is."

>> Farts Like Gold: 45

Posted by YandaMan at 11:51 PM | Comments (1)

October 8, 2006

Farts Like Gold: 43 - bad roads

We'd been driving in a grey tunnel of rain and gravel and darkness for the last hour. The rain was so heavy it was almost like snow. I turned the high beams off. They lit up the rain and made it difficult to focus on anything else. The road was in terrible shape. It was hard to believe it was the same road I'd driven down just a few days ago. Even with the truck in four wheel drive, I had to keep it in the centre of the road so it wouldn't slide into the ditch.

Tony seemed to love it. "This rain is fantastic! Are you sure we're going the right way? When do we get there?"

Whenever it got really hairy, he jumped up and down in his seat. "We're driving sideways! Holy shit! Are you sure this thing has four wheel drive? How'd you keep it on the road? You can't see anything. Maybe we're not even on the road. There's a river in the middle of the road. I don't know much about engineering but that doesn't seem right. Shouldn't there be better drainage?"

I just kept going forward. I was pretty sure no one else was going to be crazy enough to be on this road tonight and there was no safe place to turn around anyway.

Tony was still bouncing in his seat when I turned on to the side road that took us towards camp. "Almost there," I said. "Maybe ten more miles."

"Fantastic!" said Tony.

The road curved down towards a creek. The truck started to slide again. I knew if I hit the brakes we would just go into the ditch so I gave it a little bit of gas and kept it turned into the skid. We slithered a long slow ess down and then up towards a one lane wooden bridge. I suddenly had a sick feeling that there wouldn't be a bridge there. The approach to the bridge was slightly lower than the bridge itself. You couldn't actually see the deck of the bridge until you were almost on it. But it was all right. The bridge was there.

We slithered onto it at a slight angle. "No worries," I said.

"Holy Shit!" said Tony. "Look at that!"

I was looking down the length of the bridge, the way that I wanted the truck to go. The truck itself was pointed slightly off to the side. This meant the headlights were also pointed off to the side, and this is where Tony was looking.

I glanced in the direction of the headlights. They shone on whitewater that was maybe a metre below the bridge. The creek was now a river. Fallen trees and brush were trapped against the bridge supports. As the truck straightened out, I gunned the engine.

"I can't believe how small this bridge is," said Tony. "Who would make a bridge this small for a river like that? It's madness."

We made it across the bridge. There was no point looking behind us. There was nothing but blackness back there.

A few minutes later we pulled into camp. The dining tent was lit up from within with a warm yellow glow. We could hear music and laughter even over the rain.

"Wow!" said Tony. "It's beautiful!"

I pulled the truck up beside the front of the cookbus. I honked the horn a couple of times. Tony and I grabbed the bags of loot from the convenience store. I got out of the truck and ran to the door of the cookbus. Tony followed.

>> Farts Like Gold: 44

Posted by YandaMan at 11:54 PM

October 1, 2006

Farts Like Gold: 42 - hair

Lucy stopped reading. She shuffled around and knelt up inside the tent. "I'm cold," she said.

Brendan watched as she yanked one side of the sleeping bag from beneath her knees. She lay down again -- this time a little closer so her legs touched his along their full length. She flung the sleeping bag over the two of them. Brendan pulled on it as she wriggled to free enough to cover the two of them.

Her left arm was now against his chest. She propped the book up on his right hand. She turned her head and rested her cheek on the open pages of the book. "Isn't that better," she said. Their faces were so close he could feel the her breath when she spoke.

"Well, I'm definitely not as cold," he said. "How about you?"

"Much warmer, thanks," she wriggled around in the sleeping bag so she was on her side. Her cheek stayed resting on the book that was propped up on Brendan's left hand. Her hands were now just below his chin. With his right hand he reached up and held both of Lucy's hands in his. She straightened her left index finger and traced a short slow line along the bottom of his jaw.

As her finger left his skin, Brendan tilted his head down to follow it. He pulled Lucy's hands up to his mouth and kissed the finger that had grazed his chin. He looked into her eyes for the first time since they entered the tent. He rolled forward and kissed her on the mouth.

It was a brief kiss, a careful kiss. Lucy smiled. She moved forward slightly and they kissed again. Their kisses became less brief and less careful. They paused once to close Kathy's book and toss it in a corner of the tent. And paused again to rearrange the sleeping bag and pillow and put out the light.

They were now completely intertwined. Limbs, lips and hair were all mixed up in the close confines of the sleeping bag. A strand of Lucy's hair found its way into Brendan's nose. It tickled him and he yanked his head back and sneezed. Lucy laughed.

He rolled onto his back. "That's it," he said. "From now on I'm only going to bed with bald women."

>> Farts Like Gold: 43

Posted by YandaMan at 11:49 PM

September 24, 2006

Farts Like Gold: 41 - Where to Look

Lucy put on Brendan's coat and they ducked out into the rain. Brendan led the way. They both ran with a wide, slightly staggering stance to maintain their balance in the mud, their arms out by their sides. Once they got to the woods, Brendan pulled out a flashlight and they slowed to a fast walk.

Inside the tent, he shoved all his loose clothes, dirty and clean, into a duffle bag and pushed it against one side of the tent. He lay down, propped up on one elbow and leaned back against it. He watched Lucy as she left his jacket on a stump outside the tent, took her boots off and swivelled into the tent. Once she was inside, he leaned forward and reached across her legs to pull the zipper closed.

His tent was a standard 3 person dome tent, about the same size and shape as almost everyone else's in camp. The roof of the tent was maybe a metre and a half at the highest point. One end of the tent was slightly higher than the other. This was where his pillow was. Above this hung a small dirty-white mesh bag. He put the flashlight in the bag. It created a soft diffuse light. It was enough to see by - enough to read by if you were directly below it.

Lucy pulled the book from inside her shirt where she'd been protecting it from the rain. She flopped down on Brendan's sleeping bag, and wriggled around until she was comfortable and the book was mostly in the light. There wasn't much room in the tent. Brendan leaned backwards against the duffle bag at right angles to her with his legs bridged over her back.

"Ready," she asked.

"Ready," he replied.

Lucy began to read.

"Page one. Today's Special. The beet is the most intense of vegetables."

The rain drumming on the tarp made it difficult for him to hear her. Brendan shuffled around on his back until his head was closer to hers. In this position he found he couldn't keep his legs bridged over her back without touching her. And that made it impossible to listen properly. After some more shuffling, he ended up lying on his side beside her. He rested his head on his forearm. His gaze naturally pointed down the length of her body. He could make out the soft hills of her buttocks rising out of the folds of the sleeping bag. This made it even more difficult to concentrate, so he shifted a bit so his focus was higher. Now his eyes rested on her waist. The dress she was wearing emphasised the curves of her lower back. There was a rip in the dress just above where her waist met her hip. Through the rip he could glimpse a tiny savannah of flesh.

Everywhere he looked was too sexy for clear thought. He was sure she knew why he kept looking around the tent. He forced himself to stare at her face as she read. He could tell she was conscious of this as well. Too late he realised he should have just kept his eyes on the flashlight hanging from roof of the tent, but now he was mesmerised. The only sensible place to look when you are staring at the face of someone reading is their mouth. He knew now he was doomed. At some point he would have to kiss that mouth.

>> Farts Like Gold: 42

Posted by YandaMan at 11:44 PM

September 3, 2006

Farts Like Gold: 40 - Privacy

"There's an awful lot of narration in this book," said Lucy. Brendan moved closer and looked down at the pages. It seemed natural for him to put his arm around her waist so he could get close enough to read the book.

"Not much dialogue," she said. "At least in the beginning. Maybe we should just take turns reading aloud."

"You first," said Brendan.

Lucy read silently a bit, then said, "I don't mind reading, but I doubt you'd hear me in here."

"Are you suggesting we go somewhere quieter," asked Brendan.

"That's kind of what I was thinking, yes."

"Like one of our tents, maybe?"

"Like your tent, specifically," said Lucy. "Mine's too small and all of my stuff is in Kent's."

"Ah, yes," said Brendan. "I'd feel a bit weird reading about beets in Kent's tent." He shifted slightly away from Lucy and pulled his arm from around her waist.

"It's just a bedtime story," said Lucy. "It's no big deal. I just feel like getting away from the noise for awhile."

Brendan looked at her. He looked at her eyes. He looked at her mouth. "It would be nice to get away from this madness for a bit," he said. "But what about Kathy? It's her book."

"I'm sure she'll want to stay with the party," said Lucy. "I think she'll be fine with it."

"All right," said Brendan. "Let's go read about beets."

They both stood up. Brendan could see Kathy down at the other end of the cookshack. She was in deep in conversation with a man wearing a striped purple mini-dress. He couldn't tell who it was.

Lucy picked up Brendan's rain jacket. "Do you mind?" she asked.

Brendan shrugged. "No problem," he said.

>> Farts Like Gold: 41

Posted by YandaMan at 11:33 PM

August 20, 2006

Farts Like Gold: 39 - Beets

"It's probably the beets," said Brendan.

"What?" said Lucy.

"You know. Tom Robbins. Beets. Love potions," he said.

Lucy shook her head. "You've lost me." She took another sip of the punch.

"Tom Robbins wrote a novel that talked a lot about perfume and beets and love potions."

"Jitterbug Perfume. I've got a copy of it in my tent," said Kathy. "It's brilliant!"

Lucy turned sideways on the bench. She brought her leg up so it lay with the length of her shin against his thigh. "You read a book about perfume?" she said.

"Well, it's not really about perfume," said Brendan. "I mean it is. But it's a novel. It's not a textbook or a history of the science of perfume. It's a novel and it just happens to be about perfume and beets. It's quirky. You'd love it. It talks about beets and how they are a crucial ingredient for love potions."

"Sounds like it would go great with the punch," said Lucy.

Kathy threw her arms up in the air. "We should have a reading!" she said. "A dramatic reading. We can all read different parts. It'll be fantastic! It'll be just like karaoke and charades combined!"

"Oh my God," said Brendan. "I can't think of anything worse than karaoke and charades - especially if combined with a punch made of beets and booze. Look, I just want to sit here and drink Scotch and worry about the contract."

"I'll give it a try," said Lucy.

"Perfect!" said Kathy. "I'll go get it." She disappeared into the crowd.

Brendan sighed.

"Come on," said Lucy. "It will be fun. It's party night. You need to relax. Turn around. I'll do your shoulders." She put her mug down and swung her leg onto the ground so she straddled the bench.

Brendan shrugged. "Never could refuse a backrub," he said. He turned to face away from her. Joe shifted over and started clearing up as he did so. He pulled all the map photocopies into a couple of piles. He put these in his office box and rolled up the other two big maps. He put rubber bands around these and pushed them to the edge of the table near the tent wall.

"Think I'll go for a wander," said Joe.

"No worries." As Joe got up, Brendan straightened out his right leg along the bench where he had been sitting. Lucy began massaging Brendan's upper back.

"It feels like you have boulders in your shoulders," she said.

"Oh my God," he said. "That rhymes. Please tell me the karaoke hasn't started already?"

"Not yet," she said. She pressed both of her thumbs on a bulbous lump of clenched muscle in Brendan's back. She moved them in a slow rotating motion from the centre outwards, pushing into his back as hard as she could. Brendan groaned. His dropped his hands to his sides to try to loosen up his arms and shoulders. They fell on either side of Lucy's knees. She worked the knot for a few more minutes then spread her hands out and gently kneaded his shoulders again. She found another knot and pressed down on this one a little too hard. Brendan sat up a bit and involuntarily clenched Lucy's thighs with his hands.

"Sorry," she said. "Was that too hard?"

"No, it's good," he said. He settled back down on the bench. He left his hands where they were and, after a while, casually began massaging Lucy's knees. She ran her hands down the sides of his back and then up along the centre of his back, pressing the flesh from his spine out to the sides.

They stayed there like that with the party swirling around them for about ten minutes -- Lucy massaged Brendan's back and Brendan massaged Lucy's thighs. They stopped when Kathy showed up with the book.

"I've got it!" she said. Kathy sat down on the other side of the table. Brendan swung around to face her. Lucy let her hands drift away from his back.

"Thanks," he said to Lucy. "That felt fantastic."

"No problem," she said. "But you owe me one"

Brendan nodded. "More Scotch?" he asked.

"You can't have Scotch," said Kathy. "We need to drink the love potion. Here, have a quick skim through the pages." The book was a battered paperbook with a purple cover. It was titled 'Jitterbug Perfume' by Tom Robbins. She handed it to Lucy. Lucy opened the book and Kathy got up and went in search of the punchbowl.

>> Farts Like Gold: 40

Posted by YandaMan at 11:55 PM | Comments (2)

August 13, 2006

Farts Like Gold: 38 - Punch

The office table was covered by two huge maps of the area printed in blue ink. Joe and Brendan had made notes about access on them in red. Both were creased and filthy. On top of these were photocopies of maps of five of the individual cutblocks. Joe and Brendan sat beside each other facing away from the party. They were copying information onto the maps about how many boxes of trees they planned to put in each block and where they planned to put the caches. The bottle of Scotch and two mugs were on the table in front of them.

Lucy sat down on the bench next to Brendan. "Wow, you guys really know how to party." She leaned forward and put one elbow on the table, resting her cheek on her fist. Her eyes glanced at the bottle of Scotch. "Any chance either of you boys might buy a girl a drink?"

"Help yourself," said Brendan. "I think we're pretty much done working for tonight." He looked over at Joe. Joe shrugged but kept copying numbers on to maps.

Lucy put a mug on the table and poured herself some Scotch. She held the bottle over one of the other mugs. Both Joe and Brendan nodded. Lucy splashed some Scotch into each of the mugs and put the cork back in the bottle.

Matt and Paul sat down on the other side of the office table. Paul had a large mixing bowl full of punch with him. He put it in the middle of the table. Matt took a mug, dipped in the punch and set it down in front of Brendan.

"Yo!" said Matt. "Oh great one. He that is all that is noble and righteous. We ask that you pass judgement on this drink."

Paul elbowed him in the side. "Beseech!" he shouted. "Not ask."

"Right," said Matt. "We beseech you to..."

"Try this drink," said Paul. "It's fan-fucking-tastic. Don't ask what's in it. Just trust us."

Matt looked at Paul. "He's got to know what's in it," said Matt. "Otherwise he won't understand the genius of it."

"We'll tell him afterward," replied Paul. He nudged the mug a little closer to Brendan. Some of it spilled on one of the maps. It was red in colour.

Brendan shook his head. "I don't know, fellahs. Lucy's just poured me some Scotch and Joe and I have got work to do. It would be inconvenient if I was blind and or puking."

"Well, what about that?" Matt indicated the bottle of Scotch. "That's just as poisonous as this is."

"More poisonous," said Paul. "Ours is diluted."

"What's in it?" asked Brendan.

Matt and Paul looked at each other. "Healthy stuff," said Paul.

"Fruit." said Matt. "Fruit and fruit juice."

"And some vegetables," said Paul.

"And booze," said Matt.

"But not many vegetables," said Paul. "We put in some beet juice as there seemed to be a certain reluctance regarding the consumption of cranberry juice and we thought camouflaging the colour might make people forget about the cranberry juice. Oh, and some carrots."

"But no potatoes," said Matt. "We discussed it but decided two root vegetables was enough."

"It's basically a smoothie," said Paul.

"But with booze added to it," said Matt. "So maybe more like a daiquiri than a smoothie." Paul nodded and grinned.

Lucy leaned across in front of Brendan and sniffed the concoction. Her hair brushed against his chin. "Smells all right," she said. "I think you should try it."

Brendan picked up the mug and smelled it himself. "Smells mostly like cranberry juice. What booze did you put in it?"

Matt counted them off on his fingers. "Rum, Vodka, Tequila, Rye, and a bit more Rum. Mostly rum, actually."

"And a little bit of beer," added Paul. "But that was by accident."

"Go on," said Lucy. "You know you want to."

"Why me?" asked Brendan.

"You are our leader," said Matt. "We made a vat of the stuff and you need to set an example so the rest of the crew will drink it."

"Thus, the beseeching," said Paul.

"It's for safety," said Matt. "If your worn out old system can take it, then the rest of us will be fine."

Brendan looked around. A number of planters were surrounding the table now. Kathy was one of them.

"I propose a toast," she said. She held her mug above her head. "To Brendan, the bravest foreman in the land."

Everyone near the table raised their mugs. Brendan reluctantly held aloft the cranberry, beet, and rum concoction. "To me," he said and knocked back the contents of the mug.

Everyone laughed and drank.

Brendan put the mug down on the table. He looked puzzled. "That may be the oddest drink I've ever had," he said.

"But damn tasty, don't you think?" said Paul.

"And safe, right?" said Matt.

Brendan stood up and surveyed the group surrounding the table. "I hereby declare the Matt and Paul beet, carrot, and rum drink to be safe for public consumption and not unpleasant tasting. Pour me another!"

The crowd cheered.

Matt and Paul jumped up. "Success!" said Paul. Matt refilled Brendan's mug and the two of them carried the improvised punch bowl into the heart of the party.

Brendan sat down and retrieved his mug of Scotch.

"How was it?" asked Lucy.

Brendan picked up the mug of punch and handed it to her. "Not bad. It's somehow sharp and mellow at the same time. Kind of like if you mixed a bowl of borscht with a pina colada. But I think I'll stick with Scotch."

Lucy sipped the punch. She put the mug down on the table. She turned her head sideways and peered at it on an angle. "It's definitely a little odd-tasting, but I think it could grow on me. It's exactly what a love potion would taste like if there was such a thing as a love potion."

>> Farts Like Gold: 39

Posted by YandaMan at 11:42 PM

July 30, 2006

Farts Like Gold: 37 - Unloading the Truck

The truck showed up about an hour later. Franklin had set up some tarps in the bushes before we got there. Because of the rain, the driver had to keep the truck in the middle of the road. He stayed in the back of the van and handed boxes of trees down to Tony who passed them to me. I passed them to Franklin who arranged them under the tarp. My position required the least amount of manual dexterity but the most amount of wading through mud. The trucker had the best position out of the deal but that was to be expected. Tony continually marvelled that he was actually working in the rain. He kept a running commentary the whole time we worked. I only caught snippets of it whenever we met to exchange boxes.

"...just never really think about rain, you know?" he said and passed a box into my arms.

"...like I'm running in a swimming pool..." - another box.

"...if fish feel like this out of water..."

"...cotton underpants. Oh man! The chaffing is something..."

I just ke