A fist pounded on my door. I ignored it. It pounded harder. “Sledge, open the door and get out here. The party is starting and you need to be sociable.”
I drove the hand sledge onto the percussion cap and danced back as it went off, launching the hammer straight into the air. It hung there for a second before dropping to the concrete with a heavy thud. “Six feet! You might as well quit now.“
TABER CORN – I saw the sign and cringed a little. My friends pointed and laughed. “You grew up in Taber right? You must have grown corn. And picked corn. And eaten a lot of corn. They have an amazing corn festival there. Everything corn all the time. We love Taber corn!”
I lay on my futon and stared at the ceiling. The party was next week and we lacked furniture. We needed something to sit on besides the floor. Sure, we could fit some folks around the kitchen table, and on the M&M spewing recliner, but it was not enough.
“So, what should we do this weekend?” I looked over a plate of chicken fried rice at Buff. He was scarfing his down. One of our secrets to affordable eating at University. A couple of bucks for a heaping plate with plenty of carbs, some veggies, and even a hint of protein.
“It’s time to go.” I yelled into the house. No answer. I finished packing my gear into the car and walked back to the door. “Get your butt down here now!”
The ledge was 15 centimetres deep and maybe two meters across. We balanced carefully and looked down. Shadows concealed the base of the route more than fifty meters below. Finding another rappel point in the gathering gloom with no light was going to be crazy difficult. I shivered.
It was sunny, blue bird Friday afternoon on the Barley Mill patio. The usual suspects were straggling in and packing around the tables we’d been carefully hoarding since lunch. Beer! One exceptionally cute girl was perched on the railing next to me. Short skirt. Tanned legs. Really short skirt.
“Dejá de joder!!” The driver screamed at us as he careened around another sharp corner. I leaned out the bus window. Too drunk to care. Buff waved from the back. His eyes widened as he looked behind me. Certain Death! Again.
I stared at the medical device sticking out of my arm. It looked like something out of the inquisition and hurt like hell. Why were we doing this again? Oh right. The money.