Past Stories

The Big Ugly

     It was hard for players to believe but the football season was over.  Nothing left to do but raise hell, chase women, and study, in that order.  At least that was the prevailing thought of most players.  As for Tim, however, he decided to try out for the basketball team, which had high hopes of winning the Mississippi State Junior College basketball championship.  His roommates, Jeb and Jack, kept the road hot, either with the girls or fellow teammates.  Though Jack still dated a girl named Betty from time to time, the nineteen-year-old Cajun lineman also devoted time to dating others who thought he was a walking god.

"What ya' doin' tonight, Jeb?"  Jack queried his other nineteen-year-old roommate.

 "Chad asked me to go to a high-school basketball game with him.  Poplarville is playing at Savannah and he told me I could go if I'd promise to behave myself and not pick a fight."

"What the hell's wrong with pickin' a fight?" the husky, fun-lovin’ Cajun laughed.

     "Not in Savannah," Jeb Jackson replied.  "Chad says there'll be so many rednecks in the gym that if the lights blow out the game could still be played from the glow off red necks." 

     "What the hell's a redneck?"  Jack frowned.

     "It's slang for uncouth people, Jack.  However when I first heard the term, it had a different meaning.  In the Mississippi Delta, the term, redneck, was used to label poor, white field hands who worked in cotton and cornfields.  I always resented the put-down term 'cause, though they were poor and labeled as rednecks, I knew some mighty fine folks who worked those hot, sunny fields.  Nowadays, though, the term applies equally well to rich or poor, educated or uneducated folks who insist on acting like horses' asses."

     "So, ya' think there'll be a few there?"

     "Yep," Jeb acknowledged.  "And I don't want any trouble; neither does Chad."

     "Sounds good to me.  How 'bout me joinin' ya'?"

     "I don't think Chad would mind," Jeb perked.  "As a matter of fact he'd probably be glad to have ya' tag along.  But, I thought ya' had a date."

     "Oh, crap!  You're right, I do.  And, I almost forgot.  Hell, even stud hosses like me need a break now and then, but not tonight.  I've got myself one helluva momma lined up, and she's hot-to-trot."  They laughed as Jack headed for the phone booth to confirm the date, and Jeb entered their room for some studying.

     As promised, Chad arrived in front of the dorm in plenty of time for them to drive to the gym and watch the girls’ game, to be followed by the boys’ contest.  Jeb was definitely interested tonight because Janie Coleman, whom Jeb dated occasionally, played guard on the Poplarville girls’ team, and would probably need to wind down somewhat after the game.  He felt he was the right guy to cool down a hot little filly.

     "Hey, where the hell're you guys goin'?"  The shout came from Kevin who was sitting outside Huff Hall shootin' the breeze with Hercules and a few others.

     "We're goin' to a basketball game, Kevin," Chad responded to the big tackle who hailed from Mobile, Alabama.

     "Well, shit, have ya' got room in the car for me?"  Before Chad could answer, Kevin continued, "'cause if you don't, I'll make room by throwin' Jeb out on his little ass and take his place!"

     "Yeah, Big’un," Chad chuckled, "We've got room."

     "How 'bout me?" Hercules hollered then crammed his big body into the car, making Jeb sit on his lap.  A couple bystanders also got caught up in the excitement and wanted to go, but there was no room left in the car.

     "Hell, Chad," Kevin said, "don't be a pain in the ass.  The guys wanna' go."

     "Aw screw it, Kevin," Chad retorted.  "Tell 'em to sit on the front fenders and I'll drive carefully.  But..."  His comments were drowned by shouts and laughter of people trying to get seats on the fenders of the old Ford car.  Chad raised his voice and shouted, "Hey, you guys, shut up and listen!  You'd better put on a good, warm coat 'cause it's about a ten mile drive to the Savannah gym and you might freeze your butts off."

     The car and crowd was a sight to behold easing through town hoping not to draw unwanted attention of the Pearl River County Sheriff or his deputies,  and out on the country road toward the opponent's gym.  The trip became more comical when Hercules, a six foot, four inch, 225-pound tackle  passed gas on several occasions.  All riders gave him hell each time for having done so.  Additionally, Jeb, Chad, and Kevin held their heads out the windows as far as possible in attempts to escape the horrendously pungent odor.  Then Chad was forced to stop along the road while everybody disembarked for an emergency pee stop.  Soon after the vehicle was moving once more, the odor again permeated the car.  "Damn, Hercules, you're rotten!"  Chad scolded as he fanned his face with his hand.  "You’d better get a medical check-up 'cause somethin' crawled inside you and died."

     "Awwww hell, Chad," the big lineman rebutted.  "I can't help it.  It's those beans they feed us in the cafeteria.  I love 'em, and probably eat more'n my share.  Then, the little buggers turn against me, bloat my innards, and I hafta' cut loose."

     "Yeah, I know," Chad laughed.  "But next time ya' feel the urge, how 'bout stickin' your big ass out the window and give us all a break."  Other passengers added a sincere chorus of "Amen!"

      The girl's game was exciting, and Jeb and his friends thoroughly enjoyed it, showing support through loud cheers.  But this avid support irritated a big fellow sitting directly in front of Jeb, and the young man's thoughts harkened back to the friendly but firm warning Chad had issued earlier that evening.  One glance Chad's way told Jeb that his friend was worried that this guy was a typical redneck who'd cause trouble before the night was over.  Sure enough, he did.  In his cheerful exuberance, Jeb accidentally touched the man on his back.  He quickly turned, glared at Jeb and shouted, "Sit down'n shut up ya' little bastard, 'fore I stomp yore ass!"

     "I'm sorry, mister," the five-foot, seven-inch, 130 pound Jeb apologized.  "I surely didn't mean to disturb ya'."

     "Yeah you did ya' little know-it-all collidge runt.  And you'd bettah not be a'doin' it agin!"  With this utterance, the big galoot turned back around.

     "Thank God," Jeb said to himself.  However, out of the corner of his eye, he could see Kevin and Hercules waving at him, trying to get his attention from where they were seated to the left of Chad and Jeb.  They motioned for him to come over where they were sitting.  Chad's eye's looked upward in a prayerful manner as Jeb stood up and moved toward them.  They wanted to know what had happened, and were angered at what they heard.

     "That big tub 'a lard!" Kevin thundered.  "Just who the hell does he think he is?"

     "I tell ya' who he is, Kevin," Hercules interjected.  "He's just a big ol' bully who picked on Jeb 'cause he dwarfs him in size."  Yep, Hercules was right.  At least in the way Jeb saw it.

     "Jeb," Kevin ordered. "You go back to your seat and save Hercules and me a place beside you and Chad.  We'll join ya' later."

     "Kevin, y'all don't do anything," Jeb pleaded.  "Chad and I don't want any trouble.  We’re gonna’ move away from the guy after the girls’ game."

     "Now, don't piss me off, Jeb!"  Kevin blasted.  "I want you and Chad to stay put, and I damned well mean it."

     "Alright, Kevin," Jeb responded half-heartedly.  "But please don't start a fight with the guy."  Kevin grimaced and ordered, "Just git your bony little ass back over there and tell Chad to sit tight.  We'll join y'all later."

     Jeb quietly clued Chad in on what had transpired thus far with Kevin, and predicted what he thought was about to happen.  Chad looked toward the ceiling and whispered, "Aw shit, Jeb, that's the last thing we need.  What can we do?"

     "Nothing," Jeb answered while shrugging his shoulders. "The die is cast, and we're simply caught between the rock and a hard spot.  If we sit here, we chance gettin' our tails whipped.  But, if we leave, I know Kevin would be angered enough to definitely cause us considerable grief.  So, I'm for sittin' tight and hoping for the best."

     "Right," Chad responded dejectedly, "I agree.  But I wish to God we were somewhere else."

     Just after the boy's game began, Kevin and his sidekick, Hercules, sat down beside Jeb and Chad, both of whom had been unusually quiet and stationary since receiving the verbal blast from the big bully in BVD overalls.  They had been saving two seats beside them for Susie and a fellow female basketball player.  But, after the girls' game, they told the two young ladies not to join them this particular night because of developments that were definitely out of their control.

     "Jeb, don't ya' get into trouble now," Susie admonished.  "You've come too far to get kicked outta' school; especially over somethin' like this."

     "Oh, thank you, Janie," Jeb responded uneasily, "for reminding me of that possibility.  Don't ya' know the thought has passed through my mind a few times?"

     "Yes," she conceded, wishing she hadn't said a word about it.  "I guess you have.  Forgive me, Jeb," she apologized while squeezing his hand.  "But I worry about ya'."

     "Thanks, Janie, for your concern, but I think everything'll work out okay.  And maybe there won't be a fight after all.  Think positively."  Both laughed lightly at the far-fetched possibility of that happening.

     "I will think positively though," She appeased.  "But, Jeb, if there is a fight, do me a favor."

     "What's that?"

     "Don't let 'em kick ya' 'tween the legs," she cautioned seriously.

     "Geez'," Jeb exploded.  "What a helluva thought!"  He shook his head worriedly, gave her a good-bye hug, and returned to his seat.

     He was thinking about what Janie had said when Kevin asked, "What're ya' thinkin' about, Jeb?"

     "Oh, nothin', Kevin, just something Janie said a few minutes ago."

     "Gonna' get some after the game, huh?"

     "Damn, Kevin, don't you ever ease up?"

     "Hell, no.  That's my trump card, Jeb.  Keep pressin' 'til ya' wear the bastards down."

     "Well, you certainly practice what you preach.  But, that's a private matter 'tween me and the young lady, and I don't care to discuss it."  Kevin didn't care for the comment but let it drop for the time being.

     The noise was quite loud in the small gym now because of activity on the court and loud cheering from the stands regarding a well-matched boys’ basketball game.  Jeb and Kevin had to talk loudly just to hear one another.

     "Screw you and your young lady friend, Jeb," Kevin finally retorted.  "Reach over and hit the big bastard up 'side the head."

     "Naw, Kevin, I don't wanna' cause anymore trouble than I already have."

     "I said hit him!"  Kevin insisted, much to the chagrin of Jeb and Chad.

     "No!"  Jeb refused.

            Tired of futile efforts to have Jeb commit the act, Kevin leaned to his right, in front of Jeb, and cuffed the big man hard on his right ear.

The guy rose up like a wounded bear, roaring as if mortally wounded, and angrily turned and grabbed for an elusive Jeb.  He missed, however, because the young man moved backward with the speed of a Mississippi crawdad away from the angered monster.  This was what Kevin had hoped for and he stood up and shouted, "Hey, ya' big lard ass, why don't ya' pick on someone your own size?!"

     "Stay outta' this, fella', It's 'tween me and the runt!"

     "Why?" Kevin sneered.

     "'Cause he whopped me up 'side the head and I'ma gonna' whip his little ass rite now!"

     "He didn't hit ya'," Kevin sneered again, "I did!  So how 'bout stomping me, you bad-ass you!"

     "Yeah, ya' big puke," Hercules chimed in.  "And when ya' get through with him, ya' can whip my ass, too."

     "Naw fellas'," the big guy cowered.  "I don't got no quarrel wid' y'all... just the little guy sittin' behind me.  He hit me, and I know it.  I'ma gonna' let him off this time, but he'd damned well bettah not do it agin!"

     "Thank ya', Lord, one more time," Jeb reflected internally as the big man turned around and sat back down.  But, Kevin was not about to let him off that easily.  He periodically bumped and kicked the man in the back and beside the head throughout the rest of the game.  Eventually, the guy stopped scowling back at Jeb, for all the pretense of Jeb being the culprit was gone.  The big yahoo had been proven to be a cowering bully and a redneck right there in front of his friends, neighbors, visitors, and enemies, of whom he probably had plenty.  This fact saddened Jeb to a degree, and he delved into the inner reaches of his mind to find the answer as to why he should feel sorry for a guy who had just tried his damnedest to ridicule and hurt him.  But the reason or hints to the reason did not surface.   He just felt sorry for him for being exposed for what he was.

     As soon as the game was over, the big guy hurriedly left the gym, and Jeb and Chad both heaved sighs of relief as they headed for the girls, with Kevin and Hercules following closely behind.  Both girls listened excitedly as Chad and Jeb embellished the story about the redneck.  They continued to laugh and kid around with the girls 'til they had to board the school bus back to Poplarville.

     Suddenly, the boys realized that most spectators and ballplayers had departed and, in particular, all the Poplarville folks were gone.

     "Hey, guys," Chad called out, "We'd best head for the car and get this place behind us, right now."

            He followed his own advice and quickly footed it toward the spot where their car was parked.  Before reaching it though, he and his companions were cut off by four burly-looking characters, including Jeb's 'friend', the big ugly who'd threaten to thrash him during the game.

     "Well, looka' heah, fellas," the big ox gloated to his compadres.  "Looks like some smart-mouthin' collidge boys done got left behind."

     "Y'all get the hell outta' the way," Kevin threatened, "'fore we hafta' move ya'!"

     "Now don't he sound tuff," the big ugly chuckled.  "I'ma gonna' see how tuff he is jist afta' I take keer of the little fella."  Jeb felt the night chill, and bumps ran up and down his body as he heard the sinister comment and saw a big deer-dressing knife the head thug had pulled from a scabbard.  And one of his cohorts unsheathed another pig-sticker.  Terror captured Jeb and his teammates, and they were momentarily frozen in their tracks.

"It's hawg-killin' weather, fellas," big ugly muttered menacingly as he moved the knife threateningly in his hand and slowly scanned the frightened young men.  "I feel like dressin' out some smart-ass collidge boys, and aim to do jist that."  His slow, sweeping scan of the trapped young men stopped with his eyes locked on Jeb's, and he coldly said, "But first, I'ma gonna' nut the little 'un."  He and his motley crew laughed at the hideous thought.

     "Oh my God," Jeb cried to himself.  "And Janie was afraid I might get kicked 'tween the legs.  Geez', I'd much rather have him kick 'em than cut 'em!"

     "Stand your ground, Jeb," a clear voice of authority commanded.  "Don't move!"  Jeb quickly found the command's source and countered, "What do ya' mean, don't move, Hercules?  Can't you see this nice man wants ta' cut my balls out."

     "That's rite, little 'un," The head knife-wielder snorted.  "Plus, I aim 'ta put some flour and seasonin' on 'em, fry 'em up real crispy-like, and eat 'em.  Just like hawg nuts."  His big belly gently rolled as he let a slow, deep, hideous laugh slip out of his throat while pointing the knife threateningly at Jeb.

     "Oh shit, Chad, what the hell are we gonna' do?!"  Jeb asked his equally helpless friend.

     "Stand your ground, Jeb!"  This firm command thundered again from Hercules, who stepped just to the right and in front of Jeb so that he was now between his friend and the lead man with the knife.  Jeb marveled at the sight of Hercules crouched in a jujitsu stance, looking very calm but menacingly at the attackers in the moon-splashed, graveled parking lot.

     "Hey, big'un," big ugly called out, "stand back or I jist mite cut you first."  Hercules ignored the warning and stood his ground.  The man moved toward him tossing the knife back and forth from hand-to-hand in attempts to intimidate the younger man; wanting to break his concentration and resolve.  Suddenly he lashed out with the blade.  Hercules moved quickly in parrying the knife thrust and countered with a skilled jujitsu move which resulted in the big man being thrown screamingly over the ex-Marine's shoulder, onto the ground like a sack of potatoes.  Immediately after hitting the ground, the man cried out in pain.  "Help me, I think he broke my damn arm!"  His friends moved slowly, cautiously toward him, never taking their eyes off Hercules for fear he'd attack them, also.

     Jeb, Chad, Kevin and the other riders broke and ran to the car while Hercules, still in his crouched attack position, backed slowly toward the automobile, never taking his eyes off the big uglies.  He allowed Chad ample time to fumble with the keys, drop them, and retrieve them again before finally cranking the engine.  He heard Kevin swear at both Jeb and Chad.

            Everyone in the car was very happy when Hercules finally arrived at the vehicle and climbed upon a fender.  The newly discovered hero rode all the way back to Pearl River Junior College (PRC) on the fender of the car while Jeb and Chad led the others in singing the "Marine Corp Hymn" over and over again.

     Tim, Jeb’s other roommate, and others who quickly gathered to hear the story back at the dorm listened incredulously, founding it hard to believe.

     "He was gonna' cut out your what?"  Tim questioned.

     "My balls, Tim.  You know... like, my noopers... the gonads... the family jewels... my future family."  Much laughter followed that description as Jeb continued, "I mean this guy was crazy enough and mean enough to do it."

     "I hear ya' talkin', Jeb, but it's hard to believe someone would actually do something like that in this day and time."

     "Well, you just believe him, Tim," Kevin affirmed laughingly, "'cause if Hercules hadn't laid that warped bastard out, ol' Jeb would be singin' high soprano right now."  The crowd of boys joined in on a hearty belly-roller at the mental thought of a de-nutted Jeb twirping about the campus.

     "Speaking of Hercules," Tim interjected.  "Where is he?"

     "I think he went to take a crap," Chad replied laughingly, "and the hawgs ate him."  The comment added to the merriment of the crowd.  "No, seriously, Tim,” Chad continued,  “the boy went to the bathroom to take a much-needed dump.  I mean he was rotten to the core this entire night.  To tell the truth, I was glad he decided to ride the fender back to PRC."  More laughter followed.  "And, even with him sittin' on the fender, I was reminded of his foul bowels every few miles when I had to turn on the windshield wipers to clear away green mist that periodically oozed from his bung hole."  The laughter was now totally out of control as more dorm occupants joined in on the fun.

     "I heard that, Chad," Hercules bellowed.  "And I resent it."  His voice boomed out as the big farm boy took giant steps down the hallway to join in on the festivities with Chad, Tim, Kevin, Lance, Jeb, Joe Gaudet, and others.

     "What do ya' resent, Hercules," Chad laughed, "the fact that ya' broke wind all night long, or that we're telling about it?"

     "Both," Hercules responded and joined in the laughter that followed his comment.

     "You actually broke his arm, Hercules?"  The team’s first-string quarterback, Lance, queried.

     "That's what he said, Lance, and he's probably right."

     "Did y'all report the incident to the law?"  Tim queried.

     "Hell, no, Tim! " Jeb replied astoundedly.  "Geez', we don't need any trouble with the law."

     "What if they tell?"

     "Aw shit, Tim, don't even think of such a thing," Jeb gasped at the thought.  "'Sides, I don't think either of those characters would do that.  Hell, they looked like the types who'd already had more than their share of problems with the law.  God, I hope they do keep their mouths shut."  The listeners laughed, then Jeb continued, "Man, after the shootin' episode I was involved in with Jack, and the ankle-twistin' incident with Kevin, the ol' man might just tar and feather my young ass, and boot my butt if he hears about this 'un.  So, I'm for low-keyin' the fracas and hope y'all will do the same."

     "Don't worry, Jeb," Kevin consoled.  "We'll probably never hear from those guys again, 'les they slip in one night while we're all asleep and leave a pig sticker in your chest."  More hilarious group laughter filled the hallway.

     "Lord, Kevin," Jeb countered, horrified at such a thought, yet aware of the possibility.  "Don't talk like that."  He shuddered and continued, "Don't even think like that."

     "Oh hell, Jeb," Kevin replied, "ya' know I'm just a'kiddin'.  But, just in case they do pay a visit during the still of the night, where do ya' keep your little black address book?"  More laughter.

     "Screw you, Kevin," Jeb countered.  "And all the rest of you guys.  I'm going to bed."  He turned and walked toward his room.

     "Yeah, you do that, Jeb," Kevin called out.  "But, keep one eye open, just in case."  It was obvious the big Alabama tackle was enjoying this line of devilishment, and his hallway audience relished every moment of it.

The conversation and merriment continued, especially after Jack returned from his date and was told about the Savannah happening.

     Later that night, Jack and Tim laughed heartily as their diminutive roommate double-checked the door lock then forced a chair underneath the doorknob for added insurance.  Unrestrained laughter occurred about ten minutes later when Jeb crawled out of bed and proceeded to wrinkle up newspaper.  He spread it around his bed and throughout the room so no one could sneak up on him if, and when, he eventually dropped off to sleep.