Read The Grasshopper Trap Online
Authors: Patrick F. McManus
The Grasshopper Trap (9 page)
“I don't know what made me do it,” Retch said later. “All I could see was Poe reaching for the switch, and before
I knew it I had grabbed him by the hand. He dang near tore off my arm before I thought to turn him loose.”
I knew it I had grabbed him by the hand. He dang near tore off my arm before I thought to turn him loose.”
After that, we didn't fish the Poe farm anymore. A person has just so much luck, and when you use up such a big dose of it all at once, you don't want to fritter away what's left just to catch a few fish.
A month or so after the great pumphouse scare, the old woodsman Rancid Crabtree asked me if I wanted to go with him to fish Homer Poe's creek.
“Not me,” I said. “Poe darn near caught me the last time I sneaked onto his farm to fish.”
“We ain't gonna sneak,” Rancid said. “Ah'll jist ask him real nice-like iffen we can fish his crick.”
“You mean you think Homer Poe is going to let us fish his crick just because you ask him real nice?”
“Shore. 'Course, Ah might have to hunker with him a spell.”
And that's what he did. We drove over to Poe's and Rancid got out and confronted the old farmer in his barnyard. I could see Rancid's jaw working up and down and Poe shaking his head. Then Rancid picked up a little stick and sank down into his hunker and began drawing on the ground. Pretty soon Poe sank down into his hunker. After a bit, Poe began to laugh. I couldn't believe it. I thought Rancid must be drawing dirty pictures in the dirt, to make Poe laugh like that. After about an hour of hunkering, Rancid came back to the truck.
“Ooo-ah!” he said, rubbing his haunches. “That Poe is a tough man to hunker with, and purty dang strange, too. Ast me iffen Ah knew anythang about riddin' a pumphouse of ghosts, 'cause his garden is dryin' up fer lack of water. Now grab your fish pole and let's go fishin'.”
The great thing about hunkering is that it has its own built-in time limit. A man can hunker for an hour, but after that his hunks begin to cramp and pretty soon he has a charley horse that could run in a steeplechase. When you enter into a hunker with another person, you know you have just so much time to conduct your business and you'd better get to it. That's one of the reasons I think we should get rid of those ridiculous seats at the United Nations and make all the diplomats hunker there on a dirt floor. Give the diplomats each a stick with which to draw in the dirt or otherwise wave at each other, and we'd get some of these world problems straightened out in no time. I can almost hear the debates now:
“Does the ambassador from the Soviet Union have any objections to the all-inclusive plan for world peace set forth by the ambassador from the United States?”
“Nyet! Nyet
!
OOO-AH
!
OOO-AH
!”
!
OOO-AH
!
OOO-AH
!”
Christmas is nearly upon us, and once again I have neglected to patent my gifts-for-outdoorsmen inventions early enough to get them on the market. Next year! For now I will merely tantalize you with descriptions of the delights that lie in store for you next Christmas.
The Handy Dandy Hook-Removerâ
This item relieves anglers of the worst chore related to fishing. It weighs eighty pounds and consists of an air-cooled, gas-powered engine, an air compressor, a heavy-duty cutter, a gouger, and a ripper. No more will you have to suffer the frustrations of trying to remove hooks and lures from the plastic bubble-packages they are sold in.
This item relieves anglers of the worst chore related to fishing. It weighs eighty pounds and consists of an air-cooled, gas-powered engine, an air compressor, a heavy-duty cutter, a gouger, and a ripper. No more will you have to suffer the frustrations of trying to remove hooks and lures from the plastic bubble-packages they are sold in.
The Exercise Machine for Outdoorsmen
âMy invention combines the major components of stationary bicycles, rowing machines, cross-country skiing machines, and weightlifting apparatus. The way it works is that you balance on a slick stainless-steel bar that simulates a peeled log.
Then a 150-pound weight drops onto your back, the steel bar begins to spin under your feet, and as you run to stay on top of it, plastic branches slap you in the face. When you are totally exhausted and begin to collapse, a lever is tripped that causes the machine to throw you against a far wall.
âMy invention combines the major components of stationary bicycles, rowing machines, cross-country skiing machines, and weightlifting apparatus. The way it works is that you balance on a slick stainless-steel bar that simulates a peeled log.
Then a 150-pound weight drops onto your back, the steel bar begins to spin under your feet, and as you run to stay on top of it, plastic branches slap you in the face. When you are totally exhausted and begin to collapse, a lever is tripped that causes the machine to throw you against a far wall.
Deer and Elk Hauler
âNumerous devices have been invented to help pack deer and elk out of the mountains, but almost all of them are cumbersome and still require considerable labor. My invention is simple, tiny enough to be carried in a pocket, and relieves you of all the strain of packing. It will sell for a measly $1.98, too. When the time comes for you and your companions to pack out a large game animal, you remove the hauler from your pocket and show it to your companions. It looks like an authentic pharmaceutical prescription bottle with the words HEART MEDICINE in type large enough to be read from ten feet away. Then all you have to say is, “Well, I'd better take a couple of my heart pills,” and your share of the elk or deer will be packed out to the hunting vehicle as if by magic. It is important, though, that your hunting partners be compassionate and civilized persons. When I tested the “hauler” on my friend Retch Sweeney, he growled, “You better take the whole dang bottleful, 'cause I ain't packin' this elk outta here by myself!” Usually, however, you hunt with persons more considerate than Retch Sweeney, in which case the “hauler” works like a charm.
âNumerous devices have been invented to help pack deer and elk out of the mountains, but almost all of them are cumbersome and still require considerable labor. My invention is simple, tiny enough to be carried in a pocket, and relieves you of all the strain of packing. It will sell for a measly $1.98, too. When the time comes for you and your companions to pack out a large game animal, you remove the hauler from your pocket and show it to your companions. It looks like an authentic pharmaceutical prescription bottle with the words HEART MEDICINE in type large enough to be read from ten feet away. Then all you have to say is, “Well, I'd better take a couple of my heart pills,” and your share of the elk or deer will be packed out to the hunting vehicle as if by magic. It is important, though, that your hunting partners be compassionate and civilized persons. When I tested the “hauler” on my friend Retch Sweeney, he growled, “You better take the whole dang bottleful, 'cause I ain't packin' this elk outta here by myself!” Usually, however, you hunt with persons more considerate than Retch Sweeney, in which case the “hauler” works like a charm.
Fishing Computer
âI have been working on a portable computer programmed to analyze fishing conditions, make recommendations on the most effective bait or lure to use, identify species, keep track of the number of fish caught, and weigh and measure them. I have based the program on my own vast knowledge of fishing. In effect, it will be just
as if the fisherman had me at his side, offering expert advice. As soon as I can figure out why the computer keeps telling outrageous lies and reminiscing about the old days, I'll get it patented.
âI have been working on a portable computer programmed to analyze fishing conditions, make recommendations on the most effective bait or lure to use, identify species, keep track of the number of fish caught, and weigh and measure them. I have based the program on my own vast knowledge of fishing. In effect, it will be just
as if the fisherman had me at his side, offering expert advice. As soon as I can figure out why the computer keeps telling outrageous lies and reminiscing about the old days, I'll get it patented.
Thumb Protector
âAll outdoorsmen know the damage their thumbs suffer during an extended camping trip. The thumb protector is a hard plastic sleeve that fits over the thumb, enabling you to stir your cup of camp coffee in complete comfort and safety.
âAll outdoorsmen know the damage their thumbs suffer during an extended camping trip. The thumb protector is a hard plastic sleeve that fits over the thumb, enabling you to stir your cup of camp coffee in complete comfort and safety.
Automatic Fish Cleaner and Sealer
âThere are many useful devices on the market to assist in cleaning and scaling fish, but none so totally automatic as mine. Imagine, there you are, relaxing in camp, a cool drink in hand, while the automatic cleaner/scaler takes care of the day's catch! With proper adjustments, the only sound during the cleaning and scaling is a rhythmic humming. Now here's the amazing thing: the scaler will cost only $4.95! It is so small it can be used as a stocking-stuffer. In fact, the operative part of the device consists only of a small, shiny ball attached to the end of a string. As the directions explain, the ball is dangled in front of the eyes of your spouse while you chant, “Your eyelids are becoming heavy, heavy ⦠you are now in a deep sleep ⦠you love to clean and scale fish ⦠you will hum rhythmically while cleaning and scaling fish ⦔
âThere are many useful devices on the market to assist in cleaning and scaling fish, but none so totally automatic as mine. Imagine, there you are, relaxing in camp, a cool drink in hand, while the automatic cleaner/scaler takes care of the day's catch! With proper adjustments, the only sound during the cleaning and scaling is a rhythmic humming. Now here's the amazing thing: the scaler will cost only $4.95! It is so small it can be used as a stocking-stuffer. In fact, the operative part of the device consists only of a small, shiny ball attached to the end of a string. As the directions explain, the ball is dangled in front of the eyes of your spouse while you chant, “Your eyelids are becoming heavy, heavy ⦠you are now in a deep sleep ⦠you love to clean and scale fish ⦠you will hum rhythmically while cleaning and scaling fish ⦔
Canary in a Cage
âThis is a safety device to be employed in any tent or cabin occupied by more than two hunters after the third day of a hunt. When the canary topples from its perch and strikes a bell, the alarm warns hunters that the air has become lethal. The canary can also be used to test individual hunters as they enter the shelter. Merely sweep the cage over the subject, much as you would use a Geiger counter in checking radiation levels. If the canary wobbles
on its perch, coughs, or chokes, the offending individual should be forced to sleep outside. Replacement canaries are available for $29.95.
âThis is a safety device to be employed in any tent or cabin occupied by more than two hunters after the third day of a hunt. When the canary topples from its perch and strikes a bell, the alarm warns hunters that the air has become lethal. The canary can also be used to test individual hunters as they enter the shelter. Merely sweep the cage over the subject, much as you would use a Geiger counter in checking radiation levels. If the canary wobbles
on its perch, coughs, or chokes, the offending individual should be forced to sleep outside. Replacement canaries are available for $29.95.
The Complete Float Tube
âAs you know, the standard float tube requires that you paddle it about with rubber flippers on your feet. The Complete Float Tube, however, is equipped with a one-horse outboard motor. But, you ask, won't your feet get caught in the prop? After my product tester, Fred “Stubby” Phipps, complained about just that very problem, we enclosed the prop in a wire-mesh cage, which solved the difficulty. The CPT also comes with a sail. So far we have had only one opportunity to test the sail, and that was on Puget Sound during a nasty storm. The only problem we detected with the sail was that it hung up on the mast, preventing its being lowered. I will get that little bug worked out as soon as Stubby returns. He was last seen off the Aleutian Islands doing about twenty knots, which isn't bad for a float tube.
âAs you know, the standard float tube requires that you paddle it about with rubber flippers on your feet. The Complete Float Tube, however, is equipped with a one-horse outboard motor. But, you ask, won't your feet get caught in the prop? After my product tester, Fred “Stubby” Phipps, complained about just that very problem, we enclosed the prop in a wire-mesh cage, which solved the difficulty. The CPT also comes with a sail. So far we have had only one opportunity to test the sail, and that was on Puget Sound during a nasty storm. The only problem we detected with the sail was that it hung up on the mast, preventing its being lowered. I will get that little bug worked out as soon as Stubby returns. He was last seen off the Aleutian Islands doing about twenty knots, which isn't bad for a float tube.
Sleeping-Bag Shucker
âEvery outdoorsman knows how difficult it is to shuck his companions out of their sleeping bags on cold mornings, particularly when it is their turn to build the fire. The Shucker can now take over this difficult chore. It consists of a large inflatable bear, which you blow up and place next to your companion after he has gone to sleep. The next morning, all you need do is yell “Bear in tent!” to shuck the person out of his sleeping bag. This obviously is a great improvement over my previous design for a sleeping-bag shucker, which required you to get up, insert the bottom of your companion's bag between the rollers, and crank it through.
âEvery outdoorsman knows how difficult it is to shuck his companions out of their sleeping bags on cold mornings, particularly when it is their turn to build the fire. The Shucker can now take over this difficult chore. It consists of a large inflatable bear, which you blow up and place next to your companion after he has gone to sleep. The next morning, all you need do is yell “Bear in tent!” to shuck the person out of his sleeping bag. This obviously is a great improvement over my previous design for a sleeping-bag shucker, which required you to get up, insert the bottom of your companion's bag between the rollers, and crank it through.
Anti-Purist Fly Box
âHere is the perfect gift for you if you must associate with fly-fishing purists. It appears to be
a standard fly box, but when a secret button is pressed, a panel slides open to reveal a matched set of night crawlers.
âHere is the perfect gift for you if you must associate with fly-fishing purists. It appears to be
a standard fly box, but when a secret button is pressed, a panel slides open to reveal a matched set of night crawlers.
Well, that's enough Christmas delights to tantalize you with. Now, I have to go clean the basement. I love cleaning the basement. Before my wife found out how to work the Automatic Fish Cleaner and Scaler, I didn't care that much for cleaning the basement. Hmmm. Hmmm. Hmmmm.
Over the years it has been my distinct honor and pleasure to introduce numerous persons to the sport of hunting. It is odd, however, that a man can have a thousand successes and one failure, and it will be the failure that sticks in his mind like a porky quill in a hound's nose. Thus it is with my single failure, one Sidney Sample. Even now, five years later, I torment myself with the question of where I went wrong. How did I slip with Sample?
The affair started off innocently enough. One fall day, with none of my regular hunting partners available for the following weekend, I strolled next door to Sidney's house to invite him to go deer hunting with me. I found him digging up bulbs in the garden, and greeted him informally, namely by sneaking up behind him and dumping a basket of moldering leaves over his head. Not one to enjoy a good joke on himself, Sidney growled malevolently and thrust blindly at me with the garden trowel.
“Sidney,” I said, holding him at bay with a rake handle, “I am about to give you the opportunity of a lifetime. How would you like to go deer hunting with me?”
“Not much,” he replied, fingering leaf mold from his ears. “In fact, my desire to go hunting with you is so slight as to escape detection by modern science!”
“Don't like hunting, huh?” I said. “Well, many people who have never been exposed to the sport feel that way about it. Listen, I can teach you all about hunting. One weekend out with me, and you'll come back loving it.”
“No,” Sidney snarled.
“If nothing else, you'll enjoy getting out in the crisp mountain air. It will invigorate you.”
“No! No!
NO
!”
NO
!”
“Sid, I just know you'll enjoy the camaraderie of the hunting camp, the thrill of the pursuit, the ⦔
“No, I tell you, no!
Go home
!”
Go home
!”
“ ⦠the free meat and ⦔
“Free meat?”
“Sure. Just think of packing away all those free venison steaks and chops and roasts in the freezer.”
“Free meat. Venison's good, too. I tasted it once. Yeah, I wouldn't mind getting a bunch of free meat. Then, too, as you say, there's the hunting-camp camaraderie, the crisp mountain air, and the thrill of pursuit. But I'm willing to put up with all that stuff if I can get some free meat.”
I would have patted him on the shoulder, but I didn't want to get my hands all dirty with leaf mold. “I can see right now you have the makings of a true sportsman,” I told him.
“So how do I get this free deer?” Sidney asked.
“Well, you just go out with me and get it. Of course,
there are a few odds and ends you'll need to pick up down at Duffy's Sporting Goods.”
there are a few odds and ends you'll need to pick up down at Duffy's Sporting Goods.”
“Like what?”
“Oh, let's see. You'll need a rifle, of course. Outfitted with scope and sling. A couple boxes of shells. Seems to me there's something else. A knife! You'll need a good hunting knife. And a whetstone. I nearly forgot the whetstone. That should be about it. You have a good pair of insulated boots, don't you? No? Oh, wool pants, you'll need wool pants and some good wool socks and a wool shirt and a down parka and some thermal underwear and an orange hunting vest and a red cap. Heck, that should do it. Good, you're making a list. Did I say gloves? Get some gloves. Oh, binoculars! And a first-aid kit. And a survival kit, with a daypack to carry it in. Rope, you'll need a length of rope for dragging your free deer out of the mountains with. We could use my tent, of course, but it has a rip in the roof on the guest's side. You might want to buy a tent. A subzero sleeping bag, did I mention that? You'll probably want an insulated sleeping pad, too. Down booties are awfully nice to slip into when you take off your hunting boots, but they're optional. Then there's the grub, and that's it. Did I mention the hunting license and deer tag?”
“Hmmmm,” Sidney said, studying his list. “Just how big are these free deer, anyway?”
“Big!” I said. “Real big!”
“Geez,” he said, “I don't know how I can afford to buy all the stuff on this list.”
“Take some advice from an old experienced hunterâmortgage the house.”
After Sidney purchased his outfit, I took him out to the gun-club range and we sighted in his rifle. He grouped his
last five shots right in the center of the bull's-eye. Then I showed him my technique of scattering shots randomly around the target because, as I explained, you never know which way the deer might jump just as you pull the trigger.
last five shots right in the center of the bull's-eye. Then I showed him my technique of scattering shots randomly around the target because, as I explained, you never know which way the deer might jump just as you pull the trigger.
“How long before I learn to do that?” Sidney asked.
“Years,” I said. “It's not something you master overnight.”
The day before the hunt, Retch Sweeney called up and said he would be able to go hunting after all.
“How come he's going?” Sidney snapped when I told him the news. They are not exactly bosom buddies.
“He's between jobs,” I said.
“I didn't know he ever worked,” Sidney growled. “When did he get laid off?”
“Nineteen fifty-seven.”
I explained to Sidney the absolute necessity of being ready when Retch and I came to pick him up the next morning. “We'll arrive at your house at two sharp. Got that?
Two sharp
!”
Two sharp
!”
“Right,” he said.
“Don't bother about breakfast. We can grab a quick bite at Greasy Gert's Gas ân' Grub just before we turn off the highway and head up to our hunting area. Now remember,
two sharp
!”
two sharp
!”
We picked Sidney up the next morning at exactly 5:35. He was furious. Naturally, Retch and I were puzzled. Then it occurred to me that since this was Sidney's first hunt, he didn't realize that when hunters say “two sharp,” they mean “sometime around five.”
“Stop whimpering and toss your gear in back,” Retch said. “You better not have forgot nothin' either, because we're not turnin' around and comin' back for it! Now put your rifle in the rack next to mine.”
“What do you mean, next to yours?”
“That ol' .30-06 right there ⦠Say, I wonder if you fellas would mind swingin' by my house again. Just take a few minutes.”
After Retch had picked up his rifle and I had returned to my house for my sleeping bag and then we had gone back to Retch's for his shells, it was almost six-thirty by the time we got out to the highway.
“Aren't we going to be awfully late with all these delays?” Sidney asked. “What time will we start hunting?”
Retch and I looked at each other and laughed. “Why, man, we're already hunting!” Retch said. “This is it. This is what hunting's all about.”
We drove along for an hour, as Retch and I entertained Sidney with detailed accounts of other hunting trips. “It was a tough shot, looked impossible to me at first,” Retch was saying. “That six-point buck was going away from me at an angle and ⦔
I held up my hand for silence. “Okay, now we got to get serious. We're coming to the most dangerous part of the trip. We get through this ordeal and we should be okay. You guys watch yourselves. If you start to feel faint or queasy, Sid, let me know right away.”
“Cripes!” Sidney said nervously. “What do we have to do, drive up a sheer cliff or something?”
“Worse,” I said. “We're going to eat breakfast at Greasy Gert's.”
Dawn had long since cracked and spilled over the mountains by the time we arrived at our hunting spot. Retch looked out the window and groaned.
“What are you groaning for?” I asked. “I'm the one that had Gerty's chili-pepper omelette.”
“It's not that,” Retch said. “I see fresh tracks in the snow
all over the place. If we'd been here an hour earlier, we'd have nailed us some deer.”
all over the place. If we'd been here an hour earlier, we'd have nailed us some deer.”
“Listen,” I said. “Did we come out to nail deer or to go hunting today? If we're hunting, we have to get up two hours late, forget a bunch of stuff we have to go back for, and then stop for breakfast at Gerty's. You know how it's done.”
“Yeah, sorry, I forgot for a second when I saw the tracks,” Retch said. “I got carried away. Who cares about nailing deer right off!”
“I do!” Sidney yelped. “I just bought twenty-five hundred dollars worth of hunting stuff, and I want to get my free deer!”
It was clear that Sidney had a lot to learn about hunting, so I lost no time in starting on his first lesson. I put him on a stand and told him that Retch and I would sweep around the far side of the ridge and drive some deer past him. “We'll be back in an hour,” I told him. “Don't move!”
Retch and I returned three hours later and found Sidney still on the stand. He was frosted over and stiff as an icicle. We leaned him against a tree until we got a fire going to thaw him out.
“How come you didn't move around?” I asked him.
“Y-you t-told me to stay on the st-stand. You said y-you would be b-back in an hour, and for me not to m-move.”
“I'm sorry, I should have explained,” I said. “When a hunter says he'll be back in an hour, that means not less than three hours. Furthermore, nobody ever stays on a stand as he's told to. As soon as the other hunters are out of sight, he beats it off to some other place where he's sure there's a deer but there never is. That's standard procedure. I guess I should have mentioned it to you.”
“Yeah,” Retch said. “Anyway, next time you'll know. It
takes a while to catch on to deer hunting. Well, we might as well make camp. We ain't gonna get no deer today.”
takes a while to catch on to deer hunting. Well, we might as well make camp. We ain't gonna get no deer today.”
“Oh, I got one!” Sidney said. “See, he's lying over there behind that log. He was too big for me to move by myself. Right after you fellows left, he came tearing along the trail there, and I shot him.”
“Oh-oh!” I said. “Better go have a look, Retch.”
Retch walked over to the deer, looked down, shook his head, and walked back.
“We're in for it now,” he told me.
“How bad is it?” I asked.
“Six points.”
“Cripes!” I said.
“Did I do it wrong?” Sidney asked.
“We'll have to wait and see,” I said.
Sidney thought for a moment, then smiled. “Gee, wouldn't it be funny if I was the only one to get a deer and it was my first trip and all, and you guys were teaching me how to hunt. Not that I would ever mention it to the guys down at Kelly's Bar & Grill, but ⦠Is six points good? Say, let me tell you how I got him. It was a tough shot, looked impossible to me at first. The six-point buck was going away from me at an angle, and ⦔
“It's going to be even worse than I first thought,” Retch said.
“Yeah,” I said. “Ol' Sidney learns fast. Well, you can't win 'em all.”
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