Recreating (and advancing) pk’s censored domains:
Knatz.com / Personal / Writing / Fiction / Juvenilia /
It was a warm summer afternoon and my friend Rudy Steeg and I had just moved into the country after ten years of city life. After being in the city for such a long time we were, of course, anxious to explore. As you shall soon see, we didn’t know much about the trees, the animals, or almost anything. Of course there were zoos that we could visit but we just weren’t interested.
Well, it all started when we took a long, long, dusty half-road, half-path that wound through the woods, across a field, over a hill, and on and on until we couldn’t see it anymore. We were nearing the edge of the woods when Rudy heard a russel [sic] in the bushes and stopped dead in his tracks. “Listen!”, he almost yelled in my ear. We were both scared stiff, not being used to anything but the noise of the busy city and not realizing that it might be the noise of a bird, a squirrel, or even the leaves. We both burst out laughing when a black and white pussy cat with a long shapeless tail walked out. We were not aware of the fact the pussy cats do not live in the woods. Rudy and I both ran to the pussy cat. “What a cute pussy,” exclaimed Rudy sweeping the pussy cat off the ground. The pussy cat just held its long, shapeless tail above its head. Just then, Rudy and I smelled something. “Yoiks!”, Rudy yelled, throwing the pussy into the bushes. The next thing we knew, we were about fifty yards away.
We stopped to rest, having run to where we were. Just then, we spied a log under an oak tree and we sat down to rest. Finally I said, “Gee, I’m hungry, we’ll have to turn back soon.” Then Rudy said, “Even if we are going to eat soon, I still wish I had a nice, juicy coconut.” Just then, as if to grant Rudy’s wish, an acorn fell down his back. Rudy looked up and said, “Go throw your acorns at someone else.” Just then Rudy saw a nice, big, juicy coconut growing in the top of the oak tree.
Rudy said, “Hey, Paul, look at that.” I looked up and saw it growing there. “Last one to take a bite out of it gets thrown in a mud puddle,” I said. I got there first; picked it and took a nice, big bite.
Coconuts have hard shells, but we didn’t know that. They also don’t grow on oak trees. “This doesn’t taste much like coconut,” I said, “But wait a minute, there’s something in here.” Just then about fifty hornets came out raging mad, followed by a whole army. “Hornets!” Rudy yelled, “Get off my head, you are standing on it.” I got off his head and stood on a branch and the hornets went right by us except for one. He stung me right between the shoulder blades. I started to walk right off the branch but Rudy grabbed my ankle just in time.
“Look out,” Rudy said, “We’re not on the ground yet.”
“But we will be soon,” I said, pointing at the ground.
Rudy looked down and saw a little animal with a flat tail chewing the tree down and the tree gave way.
That’s the first few paragraphs. I never got much further with it: I put in a good writing session at my mother’s big black Remmington, then never returned to it: not at least in author mode: my first fiction, my first (recorded) incomplete project.