I've done a few over the years. I noticed, in the last few years, I used to forget about this blog in the last few months of the year... and then hit big with a short story to kick off the year in January. I didn't write one this year.
I wrote The Swamp, The Journey, and a few others. I think they entertain me more than anyone else... writing them is fun.
The next short story shall be in the vein of a folk tale. You know like the guy with the blue ox, or that guy who hammered all those nails into the rail road tracks faster than the railroad nail nailing machine did? I'm gonna do one of those but one that is suiting for our times.
We are currently in a weird state of the world... a new phenomenon called "Social Distancing" which is apparently to be taken very seriously. I don't think anyone would be surprised that a person who's hobby is writing extra-long and at times ridiculously dumb essays... is already good at it. I'm pretty darned good at the SD to be honest.
Chances are if you know about this weird-ass blog and have read these essays...there's a chance you're probably pretty good at it already too....but... never kid yourself.... no matter how good you think you are at something ... there is always someone who is or was way more better at it than you were.
So, who is my mythological folk tale, "The Ballad of Society's Most Greatest Man in its Whole Entire History", about? It is about a guy who could Social Distance like there was no tomorrow ...
....Watertown, Wisconsin's very own ...
........ Turkey Gehrke.
This man, for 27 straight winters, from November until April.... would stay in bed. He wasn't like quadriplegic or blind or anything either. For seven months of the year, he was a normal guy, totally full-bodied, normal, and able. He'd run a tavern called the "Turkey's Roost" and no one would even think for a second that this guy sleeps for five months...but he did! Every year he stayed in bed for five full months!
Every era has a Hero. A man who stepped up his game in the most dire of circumstances to stand as a beacon of hope for all to rally behind. Turkey Gehrke is that Hero that Society needs right now. He showed us that we can be more than we can be if we just set our minds to it. If we just believe in ourselves and be confident in our selves ... we too... can sleep for five straight months!
I recall saying in my Liberace article that doing mythology right is harder than it looks. I'm gonna try to do justice to this myth of a man... and I am going to plan the story out before we start so you can see where I'm going with this.
Pre-Story Plan
I am basing my knowledge of the actual person, he IS a real guy by the way, I'm not making him up, from this archive of news printings from the Watertown, Wisconsin historical archives:
Historical Archives of the Life and Times of Arthur "Turkey" Gehrke:
(http://www.watertownhistory.org/Articles/Turkey%20Gehrke.htm)
I will not use every piece of historical fact for my ballad. The article where they say he left his house three times in winter over that 27 year period is not necessary to include. They say once he had to go pay an alcohol license fine and he had to serve jury duty too. Wisconsin? Come on. Give Turkey a break! Ok? He was awake for like 6 months! The guy needs his rest! Let him sleep for 5 months, Wisconsin! Jury duty? Come on, Wisconsin. Let the man rest.
The actual facts of his real life I need for my story are only the following:
1. He had some liver illness that made him really sick once. He noticed cold and winter aggravated him after this illness and chose, under the freedom of his rights under the constitution... to never ever go outside during winter ever again.
2. His beloved wife Gracie would bring him one meal a day in bed for the entire five months that he would stay in bed.
3. Staying in bed made him globally famous and people from England, Germany, and France would call him over the Atlantic line to ask him questions like all the time.
....that's some basics so far. The following article from the Watertown archives is an important one.... every single line is full of facts that I will need for my story...
"TURKEY ACQUIRES GALOSHES, READY FOR COLDER DAYS-
It begins to look as though the annual hibernations of Arthur (Turkey) Gehrke, Watertown tavern keeper, are at an end – he’s bought a huge pair of galoshes.
For 27 winters Turkey has dived beneath the blankets each fall when the cold winds howled and the mercury shriveled, and stayed in bed until spring. Today he expressed confidence he would stay up all winter. He has a bet of $25 that he will be up and around on New Year’s Day and he says it’s “in the bag.”
Each morning Turkey arises at 6 o’clock and strolls around town before he takes up his stand behind the bar.
He’s proud of the galoshes – the first pair he has owned in more than a quarter of century.
“Believe me, I’ll be using them plenty,” he grinned.
He resumed bowling recently for the first time in 27 years and has been getting a lot of fun out of it.
Besides, he’s been going to wrestling matches with Tubby Reinhard."
-1938
Every sentence of this article is necessary for my story to be historically valid. I like to think this was a front page story and not buried in the back pages. Turkey buying galoshes, I like to think, was stop-the-pressesly big in Watertown.
Ok so....
4. His beloved wife passed away in 1936. The year of 1937 was a year of deep sadness for Turkey Gehrke.
5. In 1937, he asked the bartender of his tavern to install a dumbwaiter to automatically bring him sandwiches and a bottle of milk once per day. (note: it should be noted that Turkey lived in an apartment one story above his tavern).
6. The year of 1937 proved to be too much for Turkey and he could no longer sleep all day. He bought galoshes and made a bet that he would still be awake come New Year's Day. He won the bet. Come 1938 Turkey was a new man who got over his sadness over the departing of his beloved Gracie... and thanks to his best friend Tubby Reinhard... he rediscovered his love for bowling and watching wrestling.
7. In 1942... our Hero, Society's Most Greatest Man in its Whole Entire History... passes away. Thus ending the life and times of a man who's mark on our world shall never be forgotten.
Okie dokie.... we have pulled out Seven Great Historic Facts and are now ready to mold those into a ballad which celebrates The Man, The Myth, and The Legend of....
.....Turkey.
(Note to reader: I have no idea where I'm going with this. If this turns out to be horribly bad... well, I'm doing this to entertain myself I'd say more than anything....soooo.... I can't gaurantee its quality in any way shape or form).
(Second note to reader: I'm aiming for a good chapter a week but the first ones are setup so I'm just gonna bash through those like a freight train).
Index
(If I write an Index I WILL write every chapter in it. So this is more of a reminder for me to finish this)
Chapter 1: Turkey Eschews Winter!
A solemn and ill man's pledge against the malfeasance of the seasons!
Chapter 2: A Well Slept Man Emerges from his Wintery Escape!
As the Turkey rustles out of his nest... do the spring flowers not bloom more beautifully? A newly awoken man's heart falls for his beloved wife's visage for a second time!
Chapter 3: Will the Consumption catch up with Him?
A prized Thanksgiving's Bird or a withered one? Turkey loses a great deal of weight!
Chapter 4: Seeking the Valued Help of a Professional!
A withered man enlists the services of an eating enthusiast... the oft lauded Tubby Reinhard!
Chapter 5: A Telephone's Call from London!?
International fame on the horizon for Watertown's greatest sleeper... but at what cost?
Chapter 6: Turkey has a Bout with Self Doubt!
Was sleeping for five months a year for so many years really such a good idea?
Chapter 7: Goodbye My Love....the Sweetest of Sorrows befalls Turkey!
A heart torn in two!
Chapter 8: Turkey Acquires Galoshes!
A lonely, forgotten man re-sets foot unto Winter and re-discovers his love for Bowling!
Chapter 9: A Hero's Journey comes to an End!
Godspeed Turkey!
Alright, this endeavor seems quite large. Now that I have written that nine chapters will make up the Ballad of Turkey...I will do them. Mind you, I don't think these "chapters" are going to be that long.... some might only be a few paragraphs. I will try and do one per day over the coming week or two. I'm gonna keep it all in this entry instead of making a new one each time. I will over the course of the next while fill in these nine chapters.
....So, stay tuned if you are interested in reading this short story about an extraordinary guy!
The Ballad of Society's Most Greatest Man in its Whole Entire History
A short story by D.
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Chapter 1: Turkey Eschews Winter!
A solemn and ill man's pledge against the malfeasance of the seasons!
One night in Watertown, Wisconsin....
"....He will be alright, eventually, Mrs. Gehrke," said Doctor Brown.
"Thank you, Doctor Brown. Is there anything I can do for my husband," replied Grace Gehrke.
"He has been stricken by the ol' tuberculosis. He shall live but his constitution shall forever more be weakened," sadly said the Doctor.
"He needs his constitution! He is an able fellow who loves to be out n' about.... will he ever be able to go bowling ever again?" Mrs. Gehrke asked.
"Yes, yes. He shall...but not for the next week or two," answered Doctor Brown.
"Oh. Okay, that's good."
The man stricken by the tuberk was Arthur "Turkey" Gehrke, he owned a small tavern, and was a good man who cared about his tavern and his lovely wife. He recently caught the horrible tuberculosis and was bed-ridden.... the out n' about fellow as his wife would describe him was assigned to his sleep quarters for two weeks to regain his constitution.
Two weeks passed rather quickly, in fact, Turkey hardly even noticed the time go by as he was bed stricken.... one day he awoke and got up and declared to his wife,
"I feel fit as a horse and strong as an ox today! I do believe my problem with the tuberk is long done, my dear!"
"Oh that's wonderful, Turkey," his wide-eyed wife replied.
"No more sleppin' for me old gal! Come on, let's go bowling and then to the store," proclaimed a confident man.
Turkey and Grace set about their day and would do so for the next coming months without any worry or fright. At one point Turkey even forgot he ever was cast with the tuberculosis at all. They went about their lives happy as clams... that is... until the day the thermometer dropped and the great cold winds began to howl like white wolves. The cold embrace of winter was upon Watertown and the joyful mornings of fall were almost over. For some reason Turkey's demeanor rapidly changed.
Turkey awoke and sat at the table to start digging in to his morning rolled oatmeal...
"Oatmeal....again?" He said to his wife with a soured face.
"What's wrong with oatmeal, Turkey? You like oatmeal," she countered.
"Pffffft, who's you to tell me what it is that I like?" The grumpy Turkey stated.
"Oh Turkey, why are in a foul mood? Is something the matter?" She asked.
"Yes something is the matter! This dirty cold is gonna give me back the consumption! I'm gonna re-catch the tuberk I bet you!" He hammered.
"The tuberk? Turkey you had that months ago....you've beaten the tuberk, my dear," she assured him.
"You don't beat it! Doctor Brown said it himself, you probably thought I was a sleppin' when he said it but I heard him say it clean as a cloth! He said my constitution would forever be hampered by that silly sickness! Forever! My constitution is forever lessened!" He angrily bellowed.
"Oooooh, well, I guess that's true but it doesn't mean you can't eat rolled oats anymore, Turkey," she said as she pushed the bowl of oatmeal closer to him.
"Oh OATMEAL SCHMOAT MEAL!" He hammered as he slapped the bowl and all off of the table.
The oatmeal careened into the sink so it didn't make that huge of a mess at least. Still, Turkey had never acted like this and his wife was becoming concerned for him. Turkey was always such a jolly man who's 212 pound frame carried much jelly that bounced when he laughed...and he often laughed for he was a good tempered and well meaning fellow of his time who was liked throughout the entire town of Watertown.
"Come now, Turkey. You should get some fresh air... why not take a sweet n' salty stroll down to the market and buy some jelly candies? You know how much jelly candies cheer you up so much," she suggested.
"You're making a great deal of sense, Gracie. Yes, I must admit I am a sucker for suckers and a cuckoo for the jelly candies. I must say I've never a poor word had over cherry jawbreakers either. I will heed your suggestion my dear wife....
....hey, you know something Gracie, maybe boil on up another batch of hot oats. I am sorry for slashing the last bowl you gave me into the sink. I have an excellent idea. I wonder if oatmeal would taste better if I threw jelly candies into it. I mean, it would add some flavor to the mess wouldn't it? The jelly candies would melt down inside of the hot oats and the red, green, and yellow color of the jelly candies will meld together and create a real sight for my sour eyes," said Turkey Gehrke.
"Oh, alright, Turkey. Ummmmm, you're going to put candy into oatmeal?" She inquired puzzled.
"Yeah." He responded.
"But why?" She asked.
"I don't know.....maybe because I want to?" He sarcastically snouted.
Turkey gathered his warmest articles of clothing and set out into Watertown and headed towards the market in hopes of acquiring jelly beans and other candy to put in his oatmeal. The weather was not kind, in fact, the weather outside was treacherous. The darkest wind blew through his body and soul like the whisper of a snow owl. It shook him straight to his very core. The core of his weakened constitution.
"Ooooh good heavens, my constitution...." he muttered to his shivering self.
As if the bitter bite of a frozen wind was not enough for Turkey, a light mix of rain and snow was gently falling from the sky.
"Ugh, the sky, it's always grey and YUCKY," he cursed the sky.
Yet still, even under precipitation the air somehow remained dry and dearthy like the arid deserts of Araby. This dearthy combination of chilling winds, wet snow, and dry air were proving to be a concentrated attack directly upon Turkey's weakened constitution.
"The white wolf of winter....shall prove too much for me. I must hasten my retreat before all is lost..." he dejectedly said as he admitted defeat to himself.
He spared no effort in executing his full retreat from the treachery of the outdoors. The white wolf had found its prey and Turkey knew he'd be a dead duck if he didn't find safety from the bitter cold. He retraced his steps at a pell-mell rate, the whole of six of them, back to his apartment.
"My that was fast, Turkey! You must've thundered down to the market like a sack of lightning you quick tiger!" His wife said as she sprouted up to her feet from her kitchen chair...yet her face dampened when she saw his hands were without candy bags.
"....I didn't make it to the candy shoppe, Gracie. I am ashamed to admit that a White Wolf called Winter beseeched me and left me with no recourse but a hasty retreat, my dear," a saddened Turkey stated.
"...........Ok. You're still going to eat this oatmeal, right," she asked him even though she knew the answer already.
"Oatmeal? Oh oatmeal schmoat meal, Gracie. I have no time for the oats. I have too much on the top of my head and mind to be thinking about any oatmeal, my sugar bun." He said.
Gracie was slightly annoyed that her dearest Turkey had now wasted multiple pots of rolled oats... but that was the merest of her worries for she knew deep-down that something was gravely amiss with her Turkey.
"What's wrong my big beautiful jelly bird?" She asked him.
"I am down, my dear old goat. Yet, I am not one to use the H-word, my sugar plum," he responded to her.
""H word? You mean Histirine Oil? That thing they are selling at the drug store now? Are you still on about that?" she inquired.
"Histirine Oil? That junk shall be a bug on the tavern business! They put 45% alcohol in that so-called medicine Gracie! They sell that junk at the drug store for NOT EVEN two nickels! It's a huge bottle too! You should see it! How can we compete with those prices!? How are they even allowed to sell alcohol of that strength in the same place I buy my shaving things from? If the winos find out about that gimmick at the drug store...look what you've done now, Gracie.... you've gotten me frackled and I was ALREADY frackled to being with....." he droned on.
"You're not talking about the Histirine junk?" She asked.
"No. I meant the H-word...as in Hatred." He replied.
"Hatred. Ooooh, Turkey...a jolly soul as yours can't be reduced to such childish traits, you big goof," she responded through giggles.
"Noooo, this time I hate something for real. I hate it with every fiber of my body and with every ounce of what is left of my constitution...." he said as he looked through the window at the White Wolf itself.
"....."
"You see Gracie, I hate...
......................................
............................................
.....................................................Winter."
(Chapter 1 to be continued....)
(Chapter 1 Resumes.....)
"First you stop liking oatmeal and now....winter?" Gracie responded.
"Yes."
"But, you didn't hate these things yesterday, now all of the sudden you hate oatmeal and winter?" She asked.
"Yes."
"But....why?" She asked.
"Why do I hate winter? Why does a gazelle hate a lion? Why does a mouse hate a cat? I need a reason to hate the White Wolf itself? The worst hunter of the land? A season that preys on humans as if we were mere deers or antelopes? A season with so much personal disdain for the well-being of a human that if it were a full-embodied person I bet Winter would lock us into grips and sway us about until we all succumbed to its clutches?
It's almost as if you've just asked me why I hate being stung by mosquitoes or why I hate drowning in a river.... do I really need to explain myself as to Why I don't like Winter? I don't really think I do. For if it was up to me...I would outlaw it. If it were up to me No One would be forced to endure its treachery for no more than one more half second! When shall we ALL come to our senses? Instead of fighting each other in these silly wars that claim much lives...we people of the earth should unite to fight a common cause...we should be fighting... Winter!" Monologued Turkey to his beloved wife.
"Fight winter? What are you going on about, Turkey," She replied.
"Yes, instead of using those new fangled flame throwers to burn down buildings of enemies and things we should use those flame throwers to melt snow!" He decreed.
"....."
"....and more, we should build like a sheath or a big dome to keep the snow from falling on our heads and making our hats get wet!" He decreed a second.
"Turkey, we need winter. Where would the children of Watertown go for toboggan rides?" She countered.
"That is your stunning defense of the devil's season? Toboggan rides!? Alright let's see...would I trade never being cold again, never stepping in icy puddles again, never ever catching the tuberk again, never getting my hat wet again......for a toboggan ride!?
...let me stop you right in your tracks, Mrs. Gehrke. Your arguments are fantastically un-sound and your spirited defense of the White Wolf falls upon the deafest of ears for I shall hear None of IT." said Turkey.
"Oh Turkey...why must you be so difficult lately? Is there anything that will cheer you up?" She asked.
"You know...yes there is. When I was suffering from the horrible throws of the tuberculosis... I slept for two straight weeks. It was probably the greatest two weeks of my life. I dreamt of multi colored landscapes and happy little trees dotted the rivers edges of my calm mind for the entirety of the days," he said.
"That time you slept for two weeks was your happiest time? What about our honeymoon to Minnesota?" She said.
"It was okay.......I guess," He assured her.
"Well, I mean if that's how you feel. I thought those pickles we ate at the Minnesota fair were memorable. Certainly more than Sleeping," she told him, slightly annoyed now.
"Those were pretty good pickles, yes....but...you're missing the point, my muffin, it's not really that the slepp I took was that memorable or good...but it was how easy it was for me, you see?" He asked.
"Yes, you stayed in bed for almost the full two weeks...Doctor Brown was mightily impressed with your dedication to recovery, Turkey," she responded.
"I'm good at it. I am really talented at resting!" He said to her with glee.
"I would say so, Yes, Turkey, you can sleep well but can't anyone?" She wondered aloud.
"It's like the baseball matches. Some people can whallop long drives o'er the fence like Sweet Stroke Samuels and others can field with ease like Two Step Braunschewer. Or look to the wrestling matches, Gracie, no one can out-wrest Baron Von Death.... the baron can end a wrest-match in seconds with his grip on the Death Claw," He proudly stated.
"Are you suggesting that your talent at sleeping is similar to Baron Von Death's talent at wrestling?" She inquired of Turkey.
"Yes."
"Turkey.... what are you getting at?" She asked him.
"Goodnight, Gracie... I shall see you in two weeks....oh wait... can you bring me sandwiches at 1 in the pm, milk and cookies at 3 in the pm....and pickled eggs at 7 in the pm....daily for two weeks?" He asked.
"Is this a joke, Turkey?" She demanded.
"Nope," he said.
"I'll play along if it'll make you happy, Turkey, I just think this might be a slightly poor idea. Just because you hate something....whether it is oatmeal or winter... doesn't mean you can just go to sleep for two weeks... because you think you are as talented at sleeping as Two Step is at fielding the second base," she said trying to dissuade him.
"Ok. Ok. Alright well....Goodnight."
Turkey went to his room and went to bed. He stayed there for two weeks eating sandwiches and other foods...thankfully he had a bathroom in his quarters. The seconds, minutes, hours, days, and weeks just seemed to pass without any malaise.
Knock Knock Knock....
"Turkey, you've been in there for almost five weeks now... are you feeling better?" Gracie asked her husband.
"Hm? What? Yes, I'm fine. Just takin' a nap," he said.
"Ok."
"What time is it, honey?" He asked.
"It is 10pm," she replied.
"So late? I must get to sleep. Ok, love you, goodnight," he said.
"Ok, Turkey, Goodnight......."
The weeks turned into months. Eventually the cold weather subsided and Turkey could hear the spring birds gently chirping outside....
.....stay tuned for Chapter 2!
Chapter 2: A Well Slept Man Emerges from his Wintery Escape!
As the Turkey rustles out of his nest... do the spring flowers not bloom more beautifully? A newly awoken man's heart falls for his beloved wife's visage for a second time!
(Suggested Musical Accompaniment to this Chapter: "Came the Dawn")
Chirp Chirpitty Chirp Chirp!
"My word, is that a jay bird or a robin outside my apartment heralding the arrival of Spring and officially announcing the end of Winter?" Turkey said to himself as he turned over in his cozy bed.
Turkey rose from bed, he let out a great big yaaaaaaaaaaawn, stretched his back and proceeded to make his way out of his room....for the first time in five months.
"Turkey.....are you.....Up?" asked his surprised wife, Gracie.
"Yes, my my my, what a nice slepp I just had. I dreamt of the most soothing things...." he started to say yet didn't finish his sentance.
"What is it, Turkey? Why did you stop talking mid-sentence like that?" she asked.
"...."
"Turkey?" she asked.
"My dear Gracie, did you always look like that?" He said.
"Like what?"
"You look really really beautiful, Gracie." He said.
His wife blushed and was about to scurry away satisfied with that compliment yet Turkey was just getting started lavishing her with well-spoken compliments in regards to her personality and appearance.
"It is like seeing the Ocean for the first time again, Gracie. Your eyes are more gentle than the rhythmic waves...they radiate a beauty that I never fully appreciated prior to seeing you today. A gentle sea's breeze is the only thing I can think of to describe your beautiful face," He poetically told her.
"Oh, Turkey....."
"It is only now that I can understand how all the great poets were inspired to write their greatest poems and prose, Gracie. They must have been inspired by a beautiful woman in their acquaintance to be filled with so much understanding of the province of beauty to have been able to comprise those quatrains we still read about today," He told her.
"Oh, Turkey....." she said again but this time with light tears forming under her eyes.
"You ever read that Joyce Kilmer poem about the beautiful tree, Gracie?" He asked her.
"Yes, Turkey, you know that's my most beloved poem of all time," she responded.
"Well, guess what?"
"What, Turkey?"
"You are even more beautiful than that tree, Gracie....you are even More beatifuller than that Tree he wrote about...." Turkey told her as he gently caressed her cheek.
"................" She said yet it did not come out because she was at a loss for words and in tears.
"I am so sorry I cast your oatmeal into the sink the other day my Love," he apologized to her.
"Eh? Turkey that was like over five months ago!" She said.
"Five months? Really? You don't say? See....I told you I was good at resting!" He exclaimed proudly.
"Yes, you are Turkey. You are an incredible man....and I Love You," she said whilst tears streamed down upon her visage.
"I love you too, Gracie. Now let's go outside and enjoy Spring Time!" He shouted.
Turkey, with renewed love for his wife, walked arm and arm with his beloved out of their apartment...down in their tavern under their apartment...Turkey was met with quizzical looks by the patrons.
"Turkey! Is that you!? Where have you been you old dog? We haven't seen you behind the bar in many months! Did you go on a trip?" Asked a joyful patron who was imbibing on solid drink.
"What? Trip? No, no, no. I was upstairs sleeping...." he informed him.
"Sleeping? We haven't seen you since November, Turkey Gehrke!" another patron said.
"I was taking a rest, that's all. Yes, I guess I started resting around November I'd say.... my wife says it was about five months or so ago that I took to my bed...." Turkey told them.
They made their way out of their tavern and into the road outside, Spring was in full gear and the sights and sounds were really pronounced... especially to Turkey's weary eyes who hadn't seen sunlight in five months.
"GAH! MY EYES! AAAAAH!" He alarmingly yelled.
"Come now my sweet Turkey....open your eyes slowly and let them adjust to the sunlight," Grace told him and she patted him on the shoulder.
"MY EYES! EGADS! MINE EYES! THE DEVIL IS TRYING TO STEAL THEM FROM ME!" he screamed.
"Take it easy, Turkey.... the Devil isn't trying to steal your eyes.... you just haven't seen the sun in a long time and your eyes are not used to it, sweetie...." she assured him.
"Oh....oh, I see. Hm....."
After a few minutes he opened his eyes like a champion and what appeared before him was a sight that nearly made him double over.
Robins singing as they built their nests, butterflies fluttering about the day without the smallest care in the world, dogs and cats gleefully chased one-and-other about the sidewalks, the flowers bloomed right in front of his eyes....he never knew flowers could be so amazing to the eye. The flowers looked completely and utterly amazing to him.
"Wow! Look at all the flowers, Gracie!" He exclaimed with love for the season.
"You were never one to enjoy the sight of flowers, Turkey, you sure have changed....I dare say... sleeping for five months was probably the greatest idea you ever had," she replied.
"I know."
"Hey there! It's the Gehrkes! Hey big Turkey! Long time no see....where have you been?" said a passerby to them. It was Jacob Fields from the grocer's market.
"Oh hello there Jacob! How is your bowling game? Are you rolling a good rock down the alley's way?" Said Turkey.
"Sure am, big Turk! Say, you've been visiting your relatives in Minnesota again? You've been gone an awful long while...." asked Jacob Fields.
"I was just sleppin'," Turkey informed him.
"Sleeping? For the whole winter? You mean like a bear?" He said, almost shocked but not fully shocked.
"Yeah, like a bear," Turkey replied.
"You can attest to this, Mrs. Gehrke?" Jacob asked Gracie.
"Why yes. Turkey slept from November until just right about now...." she said.
"Well, that is.....that is.... something, I'd say. You condone of your husband sleepin' all day?" Jacob then asked.
"Yes, I mean why wouldn't I?" she said.
"Well, a man is not a bear...it is not a common practice to sleep for months on end... people might take to callin' him a bum!" warned Jacob.
"....who cares?" said Gracie.
"Yeah, who cares?" said Turkey.
"People fear and scorn things they do not understand, Jacob. Turkey is a wonderful man.... there is no other man I would rather be married to under the sun and in the entirety of the world over. Just because he sleeps all day doesn't make him any less than anyone else. He has a talent for it....that's all. Who would scorn a man for his talents?" she said defending Turkey's hibernation to Jacob Fields.
"A talent.....for Sleeping?" Jacob asked.
"Yes, I'm great at it. Maybe the best ever at it. Would you call Two Step Braunschewer a 'bum' for being able and talented at fielding the second base?" Turkey asked.
"No, I guess not. You are good at it if you did indeed sleep for five months. You've made an excellent point there, Turkey, old chum," said Jacob, finally understanding the situation.
"Well then, see you later Jacob!" Turkey said, waving goodbye, and continuing down the road.
To be Continued....
Chapter 3: Will the Consumption catch up with Him?
A prized Thanksgiving's Bird or a withered one? Turkey loses a great deal of weight!
Two Years later, our love birds are still in Watertown, living in a small apartment above their tavern. Turkey has made it a routine to sleep through the entire season of winter for three straight years, now.
Chirpitty Chirp Chirp!
"Ooooooooh..... it seems it must be time to wake up, already. My goodness, I could still slepp for another coupla months, I'd say. Yet, duty calls, I must take my place behind the bar and be of service to mankind once anew...." said a sleepy Turkey as he gradually awoke from his third annual hibernation.
"Good morning, Turkey! Did you sleep well?" His wife asked.
"My gosh, you are looking magnificent as usual my soft-shelled chickadee angel!" He told her.
"Soft shelled chickadee angel? That's not how you perceived me five months ago.... before you went to sleep you told me I had the most annoying voice in the history of civillization and that my hair was very ugly...." she sighed.
"Maybe I said that but I didn't really mean those things, I must've been under the weather when I said that, I bet..." he told her.
"You also said I was the banshee queen, the head harpy... and the the acting officiating member of the shrew of the month club," she frowned as she responded to him.
"Yes, well. I must've said those things while my mind was briefly stricken by the tremors of delirium...for you are the most incredibly wonderful looking person I have ever laid eyes on... and your voice is not annoying... it is like a song outta heaven," he re-assured her.
"That's so sweet, Turkey.... and you... you are looking good yourself. You've shed a few pounds...." she said with a smile.
"A few what? I've shed a few pounds...." he said very worried.
He rushed to the scale to weigh himself. The scale read "181" pounds. He had shed 31 full pounds over his hibernation. It horrified him right to his very bones!
"Oooooooooh nooooooo. It is the CONSUMPTION! IT HAS STRUCK ME ANEW! The White Wolf has caught me at last! Even through my best efforts to hide away in safety from the Horrible Hunter.... the TUBERK has CAUGHT ME! It shall slay me once and for all! It has eaten away at me like a woodman chops at a tree! I have been devoured by the White Wolf like a New Year's roasted pig! AAAAAH! AEEIEIEIEIEIEIEH! OH WOE! Oh woe and woe and WOE! Why has all of the beneficiaries of the universe, from Lady Luck to the Big Man himself up there.... FORSAKEN TURKEY! Why oh Why have you forsaken me!? Why have you no compassion for Turkey!?" Turkey monologued to the sky above.
"Turkey.....it is not that. You have just lost track of time and when to eat your meals while you hide away for months. Sometimes you don't eat the food I take to you for days and days... of course you've lost weight... you haven't been eating anything," she said trying to calm him down.
"If only that were true, my poppy-seed muffin, if only that were true..." he woed.
"IT IS, though!" she belted at him annoyed now.
"Thank you for trying to help me keep my bearings about myself, sugar plum, but, the facts are the facts. The forces of evil have re-cast me with the Consumption and there's nothing I can do. I will wither and wither for weeks until there's nothing left of me but tiny pieces of flesh dripping off of my bones. I shall be a Skeleton's Skeleton... the head Skeleton of all of the Skeletons within DAYS!" He tragically echoed as his sadness overcame him.
"You are 181 pounds, Turkey.... it's a far cry from being a withered bone-only fellow," she said shaking her head.
"You are a good wife to humor me so, Gracie, yet I knew the second I got it back then that the tuberk would prove to be my undoing. I rue the day, TO THIS DAY, that I was struck by its malfeasance! I guess there's little left to do but go over to the City National First Bank and ask the notary-magestrate to finalize my ownings and such...." the sad Turkey said.
"Well, before you finalize your ownings.... maybe you could try.... eating something?" She suggested to him.
"That's not a bad idea. A final meal, I'd say. Do you have any beef burgers? Some pickled eggs? How about a frosty lager?" He asked.
"Yes, hold on," she answered him.
Gracie prepared him a hamburger, with pickled eggs on the side, and a large cold glass of icy beer as his quote-en-quote "final meal"... he ate it very quickly while reading the newspaper.
"Hmmmm, let's see here, stock market has crashed, blah blah blah, the world on the brink to descend itself into all-out war, blah blah blah....oooooh, what have we here on page twelve? Hmmm.... 'rotund fellow eats a record-smashing amount of bratwurst at the Illinois state fair'? Now, THIS, is interesting!" said Turkey as he read the paper.
"That is interesting, we haven't been to an eating festival since the one in Minnesota all those years ago...." Gracie began yet was cut-off by Turkey.
"Yes, yes.... Gracie cancel all our Spring plans and notify Mr. Hohmmer the bartender that we shall be out of town for a week's time...." Turkey said.
"We're actually going on a vacation, Turkey!? Oh my gosh! I'm so excited!" She gleed.
"Yup.... we're going to Chicago....to meet this Bratwurst Eating Champion....The one and the only... Tubby Reinhard!!" he proclaimed.
"Chicago.....wow, I always dreamed of seeing it with my very own eyes, Turkey! What a wonderful day!" She gleed happily.
"I'm so excited! I'm so excited, Gracie! This man must know the hidden secrets of the gourmand... he must be a culinary wizard! If any person can help me regain my constitution and my 212-pound frame it must be Tubby Reinhard of Illinois! Come Gracie... we are OFF!" He proudly decreed to her.
"Off... to see the wizard!" She said jokingly.
"Yes, my angel-hair pasta headed darling... we are off to see the wizard! The wonderful wizard of eating bratwurst in Chicago!!" He shouted with the renewed vigor of a man possessed by righteous good and duty.
Our happy couple Turkey and Gracie are thrilled to be taking a train to Chicago this spring... what exciting adventures await them? Stay tuned!
To be Continued.......
Chapter 4: Seeking the Valued Help of a Professional!
A withered man enlists the services of an eating enthusiast... the oft lauded Tubby Reinhard!
"We're off to see the wizard! The Wonderful Wizard of Bratwurst!" Gracie sang joyfully on the train.
"Come on, now, everybody! The Wizard of Bratwurst because, because, because, beeeecause.... Because of the Wonderful things he does!" Sang Turkey with joy in his heart.
Soon the entire train, every man, woman and child upon it, sang in unison, it was one of the most joyous things that ever happened in our times... and some say, though it is hard to corroborate, that Victor Fleming was aboard that Chicago bound train that day... but that's a story for another day.
The train stopped at the station and everyone, with song in their hearts, and joy in their chests, got off of it in single file. Turkey took a look at a map and circled where the Illinois state fair was being held.
"We must follow this road, Gracie, and headstrongly through whatever big city hardship we meet along the way... and we shall make it to the fair and bestow uponst ourselves the regal countenance of the great eating man himself... Tubby Reinhard!" Turkey told her.
"This is the biggest city I have stepped foot or toe in, Turkey, please be my protector if any big city hardships are to befall us..." she said slightly worried.
"I shall be your protector, my little short-bread cookie!" He proudly assured her.
They started huffing along the road, hoping they didn't encounter any angry big-city winos or such like ruffians...
"I bet you the winos of the big city are even drunker than ours back in Watertown, Gracie," he started a bit of small-talk with his beloved on the walk to pass the time.
"Yes, yes, Turkey, I would bet they drink more wine... cheaper wine at that .... and get more drunker than our winos," she replied.
"I bet they even drink Histirine Oil! Hahahahaha!" He joked.
"Hahahahahahaha, yes, they surely do!" She laughed.
Their walk was a pleasant one, and thankfully they didn't encounter any Chicago winos.... though, truth by told, they actually wanted to.
"Welcome one and Welcome all the the Illinois state fair! Welcome, Bienvenue, Wellkommen, Witamy, and Udvazojlik to all comers!" An official sounding voice said over the loud speaker.
"I am hungrier than ten goats!" Turkey said.
"Let's go eat hot dogs and other assorted sausages at the meat pavilion!" She exclaimed.
They made their way to the meat pavilion and their eyes lit up like large candles and burned with intense excitement at the meat available therein. Polish kielbasa, German bratwurst, extra-spicy varieties straight from the shores of Southern Italy, Cajun andouille, foot-long hot-dogs, blood sausage from England, the softest salamis they had ever tasted, and even kolbasz shipped right from Bekescsaba!
Turkey and Gracie then got very thirsty and headed to the beer pavilion to drink about eight or nine big beers. Truth be told Turkey drank seven of them and Gracie only about one or two.
"Let's head o'er to the pretzel tent and get a coupla hot-bread salty pretzels!" Turkey exclaimed.
But then the announcer's voice retook to the loud speaker....
"Now for the second straight week... the BRATWURST EATING CONTEST-Test-test.... shall be held in the main square! The Champion of Eating... the King of the Wurst .... the Man of the Hour Glass and the Times himself.... TUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUBBY REINHAAAAAAAAAAAARD... shall defend his title against the Polish Prince... the Ayatollah of Eating-olah.... Stosh "Auchey" Bolovski!" Echoed the voice over the loudspeaker.
"Oh no! We must make haste, Gracie! The match of the century is about to begin!" Shouted Turkey as he achieved full sprint whilst running.
They made it to the main square and found prime seating with a good view. The match began... both men taking their time and not rushing into things. Turkey was fascinated by their eating styles.... as if they were eating fast yet they weren't eating all-that fast at all.
"It doesn't look like they are eating fast, Gracie, yet..... that Polish man has already eaten about a dozen Bratwurst links...." the fascinated Turkey stated.
"Hmmmm.... they make it Look easy.... but they are actually eating at an amazing rate...." Gracie replied with her eyes fixated on the contest.
Midway through the match... the announcer took to the loudspeaker once more....
"Forty Seven for Auchey ...... and ..... as it stands now under the official tally .... Forty.... Two .... for Tubby," the announcer commentated.
"He's losing! The great nimble panther of the bratwurst jungles has met his match? Is Tubby going to lose to this Polish Prince?" Turkey wondered aloud....
Just then Tubby Reinhard opened his jacket and took out this eating hat. It was a simple brown-tan billed cap.... the crowd gasped.
"It looks like... yes.... it seems Tubby Reinhard has put on his eating hat.... yes, it appears so...." the commentator mentioned to the adoring crowd.
Tubby Reinhard began eating like a ballistic carbide cannon! It was as if he was no longer a nimble panther in a jungle of sausage... yet a gigantic raging elephant in a sea of sausage.... just eating and eating and eating like a stampede!
"This man, Gracie, this man.... can eat like no other," a respectful and in-awe Turkey calmly told his wife.
"He truly is.... the King of the Wurst... there is simply no denying that," Gracie agreed with him.
Turkey needed for this man to know that he existed in the same time, space, and reality as him. He needed to tell him how great he was. Cheering would not suffice... instead.... Turkey got up and walked to the guard rails .... to let Tubby know how great he is....
"Tubby Reinhard! You are one of the Heroes of our Age! You can eat like no other!" Turkey bellowed.
Tubby turned to him and smiled... it was almost as if he knew who Turkey was. Turkey had warm chills run through his blood like the warmest of beer. It was probably the greatest single second of his natural life.
Tubby Reinhard ate for his fans.... and this encouragement by one of his largest... put him over the top. He pushed it to the limit. He ate like a tiger, like a lion, like a jungle cat! He ate and ate and never looked back!
Ding-ding-ding ding-a-lingy-ding DONG!
The bell had been rung, all the eating was done.... but who had won?
"Final Tally....
Stosh Bolovski..... 72 links.
Tubby Reinhard..........."
Then the announcer's loudspeaker feed was only silence for a few seconds, what ensued was only a hushed pregnant pause, probably on purpose to build suspense, and then....
".......
..............
...............
....................
...........................
.........................................79 LINKS!"
Cheers and applause exploded out of the main square of the Illinois state fair! He had done it! Tubby Reinhard had defeated the Polishman. It was a moment burned into the annals and hour glasses of history! It sent shock waves throughout the entire world!
"Gracie... let's wait until the masses dwindle... I must meet Tubby Reinhard. It is fate," Turkey solemnly said to her.
"I understand, Turkey," she responded.
After the throng of shouting hoi polloi calmed a little and the bourgeoisie made their way to the exits... Turkey made his move.... yet curiously.... as he approached Tubby Reinhard, the King was already looking at Turkey with a great big smile and an outstretched hand.
"Turkey Gehrke, I presume? The Hibernator of Watertown?" Tubby greeted him.
"Yes...but how did you know, Sir Reinhard?" Turkey said to him with mouth agape and aghast.
"Turkey.... your reputation.... already.... precedes you..... my friend," Tubby said.
To be Continued......
(Chapter 4 Resumes.....)
".....It does, Sir Reinhard?" Asked Turkey in regards to his own reputation.
"The News Men are running ragged trying to score an exclusive interview with you," replied Tubby.
"They are? I'm not hard to find...I'm at home all day," Turkey said.
"Yes.... but you're sleeping all day!" Tubby countered.
"That's true.... Gracie did tell me some strange smart-sounding college-types had been phoning up the last few weeks... but I didn't think anything of it... I thought they were just tax men from the Governor's office," said Turkey.
"I have a fellow, a friend, that I trust emphatically who I can suggest you tell your Hibernation stories to, Turkey," said Tubby.
"That's fine and good, my Hero, yet.... that is not why I have approached you this gentle day, fine sir," nervously stated Turkey.
"Hmmmm, is something a miss? Is there a matter that is something?" Asked Tubby.
"You see, Mr...." started Turkey.
"Please, Turkey, call me Tubby," interjected Tubby.
"Oh yes, Tubby... you see, Tubby.... there's a matter that is quite something, yes. I have lost a tremendous deal of weight whilst sleppin' o'er the last five months... and I wondered if you have any tips for a jolly soul like me to listen to... on the topic of one... may, I ... how shall I put this delicately.... hmmm... how a jolly soul such as me... can fatten up for the winter months?" jumbled out the nervous Turkey.
"First off, Turk.... real Eatsmen of pedigree never use the "F-word"... it is beneath us. If you want to slap on some good bulk for the snow... you've come to the right man," administered Tubby.
Turkey's eyes lit up like a fantastic eclipse of the heart at the gentle words of the great eater. He had traveled so far just to hear this champion utter this. To know his efforts did not end in vain filled him with a New Hope.
"Your eyes, Turkey. They exude something... a certain indomitable spirit. A fighter's spirit... like that of the great boxer men or wrestle fellows. What you're looking for is already inside of you, Turkey. Have you ever attempted an eating contest?" asked the venerable Reinhard.
"Why no, sir.... I mean Tubby.... no I have not," stammered Turkey.
"Have you been to the meat pavilion yet, kind fellow? I shall challenge you to an exhibitionary match," administered Tubby.
"But you have just ate up 79 links to defeat the Polish Prince! Surely you cannot just transition yourself right into another brat contest!" exclaimed the fully-shocked Turkey.
"Did I say a Brat Bout? Surely I did not, Turkey. I couldn't handle back-to-back brats. We shall eat standard hot dogs, WITH the buns, and sauerkraut too," replied Tubby.
"Surely you jest, your Tubbiness. You are the stalwart eater of the generation! Are you formally challenging me to eat dogs with you... I mean.... against you?" asked the excited Turkey.
"Turkey Gehrke, the Hibernator of Watertown... let it be heard by all and decreed to the masses... I am formally challenging you to a Hot Dog off!" Proclaimed Tubby Reinhard.
The crowd that was left at the main square who heard this made their way to the meat pavilion. Tubby asked for it not to be decreed over the loud speaker for he was already prepared to let himself be defeated in this exhibition in order to give Turkey a New Hope in regards to his withering figure....
"Turkey are you ready? Is there anything I can do," asked Gracie.
"Just...... to believe in me," replied Turkey with a glint of sheen in his eye.
"I do, Turkey. I believe in you. I believe in you more than anything," his proud wife responded.
Turkey was overcome with confidence due to his wife's solemn words.... he was about to emote... but he held it in. He didn't want to emote in a public square.
The meat pavilion crew had prepared the hot dogs, with buns, and sauerkraut.... the exhibition was shortly to start. The small crowd who knew this was going on felt privileged that they were there to see it with their own eyes before it even started.
"Don't try to over eat, Turk. If you try to force feed yourself... all shall be lost before you even make headway. The food is meant to be enjoyed even if you are to eat it quickly. To eat not to savor is to not eat at all. Some eaters say to 'become the food'... that is hearsay and silly. If you're eating a chicken and pretend to be a chicken while eating... it'll throw you off of your game plan. Lastly, Turkey... my final piece of advice...." lectured Sir Reinhard.
"This is the smartest man in the entire world...." Turkey inwardly stated to his own self.
".....Eat for YOU and not for anyone else. Many people seem to think that I eat for the people... for the screaming throng of the hoi-polloi or the reserved reverence of the bourgeoisie... but that's not the case. I eat for myself... just to enjoy every second of being alive and to savor every ounce of food I partake in the joy in eating of. The fame and adulation are just branching out microcosms of other people understanding that I have found a way to enjoy something in life. The cheering is an effect of my eating.... but surely not the reason for it," Sir Reinhard lectured.
Turkey listened to each word as if it were written in stone tablets from High Above. The referee then blew the whistle and the exhibition started!
Turkey ate.... but not for anyone but himself... and he ate slowly.... yet due to how calm he was... his slow deliberate movements picked up speed by their own accord. The hot dogs were really good..... the buns were not as filling as he worried they would be.... and the sauerkraut was great.
Ding Ding Ding Dinggy Ding-Ding!
The triangle was rung and the eating was now done, but who had won?
"Tubby you managed 31 hot diggity dogs... which is not half-bad for a man who just ate his own weight in the brat," the referee started.
"Thank you Mr. Kowalski...." said Tubby.
"Turkey Gehrke, it is a pleasure to meet you by the way, your renowned name has already echoed across the whole of Chicago for months now," started referee Kowalski.
"Thank you, Mr. Kowalski....." said Turkey.
"You managed to eat.... 33 hot diggities!!" proclaimed referee Kowalski.
"Turkey you did it!" said Gracie with much jubilation in her voice.
"I told you, Turkey. You had it inside of you this entire time. You not only have a skill for Sleeping, my friend... you are also pretty good at Eating," congratulated Tubby.
"Thank you Sir Reinhard... you have taught me so much in such a little time. I shall meet your news man and conduct an interview....it is time I took my leave now, old chap. I want to thank you, Sir Tubby, from the bottom of my heart," implored Turkey.
"Any time, old friend," said Tubby.
"Let us take our leave, Gracie," said Turkey to his wife.
"Yes, Turkey, let's. I want to say this though.... I am so proud of you, Turkey. You have filled my heart with pride that can barely be contained yet I shall contain it for I do not want to emote too much in a public place, my beautiful Turkey...." she said while holding back tears.
"Gracie, thank you. Let it be known.... that this was the greatest day of my life, Gracie...." he said.
"I know Turkey.... I know," said Gracie.
To be Continued.....
Chapter 5: A Telephone's Call from London!?
International fame on the horizon for Watertown's greatest sleeper... but at what cost?
Before leaving Chicago, Turkey had a long chat with Tubby's trusted news man. Turkey regaled the journalist with stories of his three years of hibernation which thrilled this young man by the name of Louis "Sudsy" Turquelle.
"....but you sleep the entire time?" Sudsy posed this question during the chat.
"What? Well, no. I sleep like all day, you know... but I go to the water closet from time to time... to ... well, you know.... use the water closet," Turkey explained.
"That makes sense, I'd say, Turkey... say Turkey... why do they call you Turkey?" posed Sudsy nextly.
"When I was a mere boy of I'd say say merest of nine years old... the kids at the schoolyard had trouble with my name of 'Gehrke' and no one could say it so I just one day told them my name was Artie Turkey instead of Gehrke... and they laughed and they laughed ever so.... until the strains and pains of their laughing joints... and the serum in their glands... were exhausted .... and they could not afford them to laugh any longer..." Turkey droned on.
"...and after that?" Sudsy asked trying to speed up Turkey's current story.
"After that? Well, after they couldn't laugh any longer because the corporeal form of their limited human bodies stopped allowing them to.... they stopped," continued Turkey.
"Stopped calling you Turkey?" asked Sudsy.
"No, no, no, they stopped laughing. People have been calling me Turkey every instance since that moment in my life," he corrected.
"May I ask..." began Sudsy.
"Wait, may I ask, why you are under the nick to your name of 'Sudsy'?" interjected Turkey with his own question to pose.
"Yes, well, you see I rather enjoy the bath. I spend a lot of time in the bath tub. It is where I do my thinking and where I shutter-out the world and just relax..." answered Sudsy.
"So you're a bath man?"
"Yes, I'd say so, yes.... I am a bath man," said Sudsy.
"That is interesting.... I have one in my water closet as well... yet I can't seem to ever achieve comfort within my own tub. I'd love to be a bath man too but I just don't think the design of my tub is conducive for extraordinary means of relaxation...." Turkey said.
"My model is quite large...yet, I'm of a much smaller personal frame than you, I'm quite compact for a man... I fit quite snugly into most models of tub," explained Sudsy.
"That must be so nice.... just to lie in the warm bath all day. Do you take more in the winter months?" asked the interested Turkey.
"Why yes...I do... hold on now Turkey... it is I conducting this interview," said Sudsy.
"Oh yes, my apologies Sudsy, you exemplary bath fellow," said Turkey.
"Turkey what is your favorite word, is it 'Sleep'?" asked Sudsy.
"No."
"What is your least favorite word?" asked Sudsy.
"Winter...or cold... or both," answered Turkey.
"Do you have any last words you want me to know for my article, Turkey?" asked Sudsy.
"Yes, I was thinking... there should be an Olympic games for guys like us. You know? You ever see the footage from the Olympics on the short reels down at the Orpheum theater-house? It is like a Greek man in Athens throwing a disc.... I mean, who cares to see a man throw a disc? What's next, will they be making short reels of a man whipping stones into a pond? Why would you award the bronze medals and the gold medals to a guy to throw junk about the place? Throwing discs? Why would anyone even want to throw a disc?" Turkey lectured.
"Go on."
"...Yes, I mean, there should be an Olympics for us! You know, like a, like a REAL Olympics for REAL actual people. Say for the Bath Men of the world... the tourney could be to see who can stay in the bath the longest... and the man who stayed inside the bath the longest would get the Gold Medal for Bathing," continued Turkey.
"Yes, yes. That's a good point, Turkey. I think I have enough for my Extra Exclusive article for the Sunday Edition.... thank you so much," said Sudsy.
"No problem, Sudsy! Thank for for the nice chat," reciprocated Turkey.
Turkey and Gracie returned to Watertown, their adventure in Chicago was one they would never in a thousand years forget. The article came out in the Sunday Edition of the Chicago Herald and Sudsy's Extra Exclusive with the Hibernator of Watertown was a smashing hit.
Over the next few weeks, other reporters called from all over the great U of S of A.... by late October, however, Turkey began to be positively frackled by the bombardment of the news people.... he stopped taking calls, said good night and pleasant dreams to Gracie.... and went to sleep. Much time passed.
Knock Knock Knock....
"Mmmmhmhmhmmrmrmrm, yes? Gracie is it time for my cookies n' milk, already? I'm resting right now and....." mumbled a hibernating Turkey.
"Um, Turkey, I know you're not very good with being disturbed during your winter months but this phone call from a news man may be one you'd like to take...." she nervously said to him through the door to his hibernation chambers.
"Urrrrghghghg, mmmmmhmhmhmhmmhmmbbbrmmmrmrm, I don't want to talk to any news man unless it is Sudsy... the bath man," grumbled Turkey.
"It's not Sudsy, it is not the bath man, Turkey," said Gracie.
"Then tell whoever it is to leave a message with you and I shall get back to them in April of next year," said Turkey.
"Turkey you might want to take this one, they paid a great deal of telephone tariff to the Governor's office just to call you over the Atlantic line. Turkey this is ...... London Calling," she explained to him.
"London.... calling? Such a faraway place? Mrmrmrmrmrmrmrmrmmble. Mbugbmmgle... oh they 'aint got no swing.... well, I mean except for that truncheon thing," he aimlessly murmured half-asleep.
"Turkey... listen to me. It is LONDON on the telephone box! They want to speak with you!" She bellowed.
"What? London? The one in over-seas? Why do they want to talk to old me?" Turkey, now about twenty-five percent awake, asked Gracie.
"I don't know... same as what any other news service calls for, I'd wager. They want to ask you about your sleeping," she said.
Turkey, now about fourty-five percent awake, arose from his bed, and out of his hibernation chamber. He went over to the telephone's box in the kitchen and picked up the receiver.... on the other end was an official sounding fellow with an Englishman's accent who spoke in a noble fashion...
"Turkey, is that you old man?" said the voice from over the Atlantic sea.
"Yeah, it's me... I'm only about sixty-three percent awake right now, I'd wager," said Turkey.
"You don't say, guv'na! Here I am wondering if I would phone up while you were sleeping and BLAMMO and WHAMMO you are actually sleeping! It is like I phoned the Queen and she was Queening! Or I phoned on up on the telly-phone the President and he was Presidenting! Here I am, phoning on up on the telly-phone Turkey the Sleeper... and he is Sleeping! Oh glorious day!" said the voice over the Atlantic line.
"Ugh, uh, yes your Majesty, I was sleeping and I am only about seventy-one percent awake now, I'd estimate... may you stop yelling with these blammoes and your whammoes, please. They are a light shock to my constitution," said Turkey.
"My Majesty!? I'm not a royal, guv'na! It is I, Sir Allistair, the most noble of newspaper men in the whole of London! I must speak with you, Turkey, your reputation has breached the Atlantic and you are none-other-than the talk-of-the-town, old guv!" exclaimed Sir Allistair.
"Yes, yes... I know," mumbled Turkey about eighty-seven percent awake.
"There's a fellow over here in over-seas that has taken an offense at your comment about the Real Olympics," said Sir Allistair.
"What?" asked Turkey.
"You proclaimed you could out-sleep any man if a Sleep Olympic should be held," continued Sir Allistair.
"No I didn't. Sudsy made up that part. All I ever said in the exclusive interview with him was that there should be an Olympics for sleepers, eaters, and bathers... and that gold medals should be given to the ones who were best at it... I think... if my memory serves me correctly, Sir Allistair," replied Turkey now almost fully awake.
"Well, Turkey, The Seneschal of Normandy took great offense! BLAMMO! He read your words and was overcome by your egregious goings-on you big BRAGGART!" incited Sir Allistair.
"I don't know any Seneschals of Normandy, you know, I uuuuh, I didn't mean to cause any offense to this person... and .... can you please stop yelling into the phone, please? Can you make an effort to speak like a normal person would speak, Sir Allistair, please?" pleaded Turkey.
"WHAMMO, guv'na! The Seneschal of Normandy is the majorest Domo of his house! He is beloved across the whole of Normandy! He is the best sleeper in all of the Duchy! The entirety of the House of Sommeil is inspired by him to no end! Do you, an American, think you can out-rest the Major Domo of the House of Sommeil?" incited Sir Allistair of London.
"Uuuuuuuh.....No."
"Braggart! You lying braggart! ..... No? Oh. Wait, guv are you not taking this seriously? Do you think this is some sort of droll ruse I am playing on you, old man? The Seneschal of Normandy, the majorest Domo of the Duchy.... is at his wits end on account of you, Turkey! He is having trouble sleeping because of an article he read about you. If you think this is a put-on, guv, wait until Canard De L'Oie wakes up for his monthly tea next month.... he shall call you personally on this trans-Atlantic line and you will see that this is not a droll ruse, Turkey!" incited the boastful Sir Allistair.
"Alright, well, I must get back to sleep, goodnight Sir Allistair," said Turkey.
"Ok, well, goodnight, Turkey. I hope upon to you a nice rest... I know you are waving me off as a boastman but... I am just giving you the old gentleman's heads-up that the Domo shall be calling you next month over his monthly tea," politely said Sir Allistair.
"Oh, alright, thank you, good bye," said Turkey.
Turkey hung the receiver back unto the telephone's box... and started to go back to his room....
"What did London want, my dear darling," asked Gracie.
"I don't know, something about some major dildock wanting to sleep with me over tea.... or something, I don't know," grumbled Turkey.
"......" said Gracie.
To Be Continued.....
(note: The old time word "dildock" is not what you think it means).
(Chapter 5 Resumes)
One month later....
Knock Knock Knock...
"Turkey, I think your major dildock has called up....," Gracie told Turkey.
"Mmbmbmbmbmbmbmbmdffffffffbrbrlbrl...." he replied.
After he slowly regained his bearings and became fully awoke he got out of his bed, left his hibernation chambers, went to the kitchen, picked up the receiver from the telephone's box and said...
"Hello, Turkey speaking," he said.
"Why yes, hello Turquay, thiz iz the Seneschal of Normandy! I hope very much zo that I did not disturb your rest too much... I have awoken for my monthly tea and found it appropriate to call to you, Turquay, to see if you indeed claimed to be zee greatest zleeper in zee entire vorld," said the noble voice on the other end of the Atlantic.
"You are the Domo man from the over-seas?" asked Turkey.
"Why yezzzz. I am the Major Domo of the House of Sommeil, from zee 'over-zeaz', Turquay," replied the nobleman.
"That salacious part of the article Sudsy wrote about me was a bit exaggerated... you see... and..." Turkey started.
"You are not zee zelf-proclaimed greatest zleeper, then I take it, Turquay?" asked the noble domo.
"Well, I mean, if you're asking me that and seeking my personal opinion on the matter... then I'd have to say... Yes. I sleep like no other.... and as I've explained to my wife and the townsfolk over the years ... I am as talented at sleeping as Baron Von Death is at wrestling..." replied a confident Turkey.
"Insolence! You are speaking out of line! You zeriously zink that just because you can sleep for a few American winters that you are zee greatest zleeper in zee vorld?" proclaimed the Domo.
"You know something... sir Domo.... you are really starting to run up my pant leg at this point... and I must say... if you don't like that there's another great Sleepman in this world... and you truly believe you rule the realm of sleep... and that your dominion and providence in regards to sleep has created a situation where you don't think this town is big enough for the both of us.... then why don't you come to Watertown and tell me 'zees zings' as you'd say... right to my very person in the bone and flesh!" elegantly stated Turkey.
"I respect your tenacity, Turquay... please call me by my name... Canard De L'Oie," replied Canard.
"Okay, Canard," said Turkey.
"In Avril of this year, I shall take a ship to zee America to witness zee zounds and zights for the first time in my life. I shall heed thy words, Turquay. I shall make a visit to Watertown and we can zee once and for all who iz the best zleeper in the vorld," said Canard.
"There's no way to really come to a ruling on something as personal and varied as Sleep Talent your domo-ness," countered Turkey.
"I have defeated zousands and zousands of men at Sleep Offs, you shall be of little consequence or matter to me, Sir Turquay... I shall defeat you handily and return to zee Duchy as zee victor. I shall show my outstanding Domo nature to America for all to zee.... by defeating their Sleeping Champion!" proclaimed Canard.
"I accept your meager challenge, Domo..." proudly stated Turkey.
Much time passed... Meanwhile in Chicago, Tubby Reinhard and Sudsy Turquelle were sitting over tea and discussing the current events of importance currently in our society...
"Have you been reading the proclamations from the London press lately, Tubby?" asked Sudsy.
"No. I have no great interest in over-seas proclamations, my dear friend," responded Tubby.
"You may be interested in this one, Tubs," said Sudsy.
"...?" answered Tubby with a puzzled look.
"I quote: 'The Duchy proclaims, the Major Domo of the House of Sommeil, Canard De L'Oie has officially challenged America's Turkey Gehrke to a Sleep Off in Watertown, Wisconsin, USA.... Stop'," read Sudsy from the proclamations page.
"My goodness! Does it say if the proclamation was turned down? Hopefully he turned it down!" said a pretty shocked Tubby.
"That's the thing, old chum... Turkey has..... accepted," sternly stated Sudsy.
"By the goodness! What has he gotten himself into? When shall the duel be held, Suds?" asked the nervous Tubby.
"In 'Avril' it reads, I think that means April in over-seas talk," informed Sudsy.
"It does. It does. It means April in over-seas. I must make haste... I must be in Watertown for the Sleep Off!" said Tubby as he began making arrangements to part.
"I'm coming too...." solemnly said Sudsy.
"Why, good Suds?" asked Tubby.
"This has the makings to be one of the Greatest Things Ever, Tubs, there's no way a news man will miss this scoop," answered Sudsy.
Tubby and Sudsy hurriedly made arrangements to travel to Watertown. Tubby knew something about this Canard fellow that seems to have struck him with worry over his friend's chances to be victorious in this sleep-off.
Meanwhile back in Watertown...
"Did he tell you the rules of engagement yet, my dear?" asked Gracie.
"Yes, it seems two comfy beds are placed in the town square and both men jump under the covers... the first man to leave his bed... for ANY reason... whether due to hunger, thirst, or need to use the water closet.... shall be declared the loser and bring shame upon his entire Nation," explained Turkey.
"The beds have been placed in Watertown square already, honey, I was at the grocer's market today, and the Domo's people have already gotten everything prepared," said Gracie.
"They are fastidious fellows, I must admit. I am starting to be struck by the frackles of my worries, Gracie. I think I may have bitten off more pillow than I can lay my head on, my angel," woed Turkey.
"Is there anything... I can do Turkey?" asked Gracie.
"Just.... to believe in me, my pumpkin pie, just to... believe in me," responded Turkey with a neediness in his demeanor.
"I shall, my love. I shall. I shall believe in you more than anyone has ever believed in anything. Tomorrow, when the Sleep Off commences, my big banana cream pie, I shall believe in you until the cows come home and the sun sets!" She proudly told him.
"Thank you.... Gracie. Without your emotional support and the food you bring me while I sleep all day... I don't know what I'd do. I cannot imagine a life without you my sweet-heart," he said while he embraced her.
Stay tuned for the exciting and thrilling conclusion of Chapter 5!
To Be Continued.....
(Chapter 5 Resumes)
Meanwhile, on an outbound train from Chicago to Watertown, Tubby and Sudsy sit in a fancy dining car. Tubby has the roast beef, with a side of green string beans, and a light chardonnay... while Sudsy has whole wheat toast and black coffee.
"How is the roast beef, Tubs?" asked Sudsy.
"It is actually quite good for something you'd get on a dining car, Suds, old chap," answered Tubby.
"Say, Tubs, why did you leave in such a clamor whence you heard the name of Turkey's opponent?" asked a puzzled Sudsy.
"Canard De L'Oie... I have heard this name before... whilst on my travels over seas," said Tubby.
"You've been over seas?" asked Sudsy.
"Yes, I went over seas to sample many varieties of sausage back in the halcyon days of my spring-like youth. I met many fine eatsmen, and sleepsmen while there..." started Tubby Reinhard.
"What about Bath men?" asked Sudsy the bath man.
"Yes, a few bath men, yes..." answered Tubby annoyed at the interjection.
"Ok, go on, Tubby..." said Sudsy.
"Yes, well.... Canard De L'Oie is the Major Domo of some kind of a Sleep House, you see, Suds. Where many nobles train in the art of sleep... in order to find the perfect methods to achieve good and proper rest. I met a man who studied at this Domo's Sleep House... and what he told me was quite interesting yet it is something that does not bode well for our dearest friend, Turkey," continued Tubby.
"...and what could that be?" wondered aloud Sudsy.
"They are not natural sleepers... they have developed concoctions of chemicals to aid them in sleep. They call it the European Ether. It is some form of anesthetic that is safe yet powerful. The Domo shall administer himself a large dosage of the European Ether and then chase it with a light glass of pure absinthe..." explained Tubby.
"He will follow his anesthetic with absinthe!?" asked the alarmed Sudsy.
"Yes, his body has developed a tolerance for the concoction... he needs absinthe to fully knock him out... and when he's knocked out... forget it, old chum..... The Domo shall sleep unconscious for DAYS upon DAYS upon DAYS on END!"
"Turkey doesn't have a chance does he?" asked Sudsy.
"He might... there's a new product on the market lately... a so-called medicine that is actually just powerful ethanol and a secret ingredient. They sell it at the drug store in most cities and towns...." continued Tubby.
"Histirine Oil?" asked Sudsy.
"Yes... and the secret ingredient in this medicine is none other than.... European Ether!" concluded Tubby.
"If we get to Turkey before the match and get him a bottle... he will be on an even playing field then shan't he?" asked Sudsy.
"Yes, he shall."
The train thundered along the tracks like a bolt of lightning, chugging along like a veritable metal tiger. Time, however, was of the essence...
Meanwhile in Watertown, Wisconsin's town square... two beds sat in the middle of a sea of onlookers...
"When shall the Domo show himself?" asked Gracie to Turkey.
"I don't know, Dearest, but I already think I can picture what he looks like from how he speaks. I bet he looks like Little Lord Fauntleroy! He has a puffy shirt, puffy pantaloons, and puffy-puffy hair! His face.... I bet his face is that of a bozo's face!" said Turkey.
"Hahahaha, I bet so as well, dearest," laughed Gracie.
Just then a procession of people arrived... stewards and minor domos slowly made their way to the square... they had trumpets, drums, bassoons, clarinets, tubas, sousaphones, and dancing women. It was truly a grandiose entrance. The marching band which preceded The Seneschal of Normady started up a resounding and rousing version of John Philip Sousa's El Capitan!
(Suggested Musical Accompaniment for this portion:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h5m4iJNyq0M)
"This is better than any parade that has ever marched through this square, Turkey!" exclaimed Gracie with glee.
"....I know," said the star-struck-but-not-wanting-to-emote-in-a-public-place Turkey.
Through from the procession of stewards and lesser domos came the silhouette of a very grandiose figure... it was none other than... Canard De L'Oie. He had salt-and-pepper black-and-white hair, a salt-and-pepper black-and-white goatee ... and looked great and good.
"That's... him?" asked an intrigued Gracie.
"He... doesn't look at ALL like the Little Lord Fauntleroy... he looks really really grand!" exclaimed Turkey.
The marching band advanced on the fair grounds heralding the arrival of the Seneschal of Normandy himself, the Major Domo of the House of Sommeil, the self-proclaimed greatest sleeper in the world over... Canard De L'Oie.
Turkey was in awe yet would not back down now... it was too late to back down. This grand fellow had sailed all the way from over-seas on a ship just to be in Watertown this April... and even if he lost miserably... Turkey knew he has to at least try to out-sleep this guy.
The announcer went onto the loud speaker...
"Ladies and Gentleman of Watertown, as sponsored by the Governor's office and the 66th precinct of the steel-workers fraternity.... we bring you an exhibition to thrill the young and the old! The first ever Sleep Off on American Soil! In the West-side Bed, The pride of Watertown, the Hibernator, the Greatest Man on Earth... Turkey Gehrke!"
Waves of applause and cheers echoed throughout the sqaure...
"....shall face in the East-side Bed the Grandest Man in all of Over Seas! CANAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARD DEEEEE LAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OIE!" the announcer shouted.
The referee stood in the middle of both comfy beds... and began explaining the rules. Turkey was about to walk onto the stage when a familiar voice called to him...
"Turkey! Old Chum! WAIT!" yelled the mysterious voice.
Turkey turned to see who the familiar mystery voice was.... it was Tubby Reinhard! His favorite friend!
"Tubby... and Sudsy!" exclaimed Turkey.
"Turkey.... that man is not a natural sleeper... he uses gimmicks to help him rest, Tubby explained it to me on the train ride," hurriedly said Sudsy.
"Train ride? How was it? What did they serve on the dining car?" asked Turkey, happy to see them.
"Roast beef... it was pretty good. Never mind that, big Turk, what Sudsy told you is unfortunately the dire facts of this matter. That Domo uses a chemical concoction to aid him in rest. I have stopped at the drug store and purchased you a counter-measure that shall even the odds!" exclaimed the proud Tubby as he explained his counter-stratagem to Turkey.
Tubby handed Turkey a bottle of "medicine"....
"Histirine Oil? Tubby! This gimmick almost put me out of the tavern business! I shall never let a droplet of this devil's make enter my glands!" Proclaimed Turkey.
Turkey slashed the bottle unto the pavement of the gravel-stone. The Histine Oil was dashed into a million jagged glass shards all o'er the ground... the contents sprayed all around and splashed unto the gravel.
"Turkey... why?" asked Tubby.
"I don't need this stuff! If that Domo needs it to sleep then good for him! I sleep for ME! You are the one who taught me that, sir Reinhard! I shall only enter this contest to sleep for myself to savor and enjoy the rest... if I shall win the accolades and cheers of the masses... then so be it... but that will just be a microcosm... a branching out effect... of people understanding that I've found something in this world that makes me happy and they shall see that and understand that... and relate to that... and they will be happy for themselves for being happy for me!" Proclaimed the Hero, Turkey Gehrke.
"....." said the speechless Tubby.
Turkey walked off, to the cheers of the crowd to the center stage.
"You know, Tubs, that might be the Greatest Man in the whole entire History of our Society..." said Sudsy matter-of-factly.
"I know, Sudsy.... I know," said Tubby proudly.
Turkey and Canard took to center stage, the referee explained them the rules, but before they both jumped under the cozy covers of their respective league-standard beds... Canard said something to Turkey.
"......may zee best man vin, Turquay...." gently said the grandiose Canard.
"Yes, good luck to you as well, Major Domo..." said the star-struck Turkey.
The two men jumped under the covers with a great clamor... the crowd roared like a lion! The two men got comfy and then Canard just went limp and fell asleep.
"That's the European Ether... taking effect in conjunction with the absinthe," explained Tubby to Sudsy and Gracie.
"The what?" asked Gracie.
"It's a powerful sleep potion... an elixir's elixir, Mrs. Gehrke," further explained Sudsy.
"How shall Turkey cope?" asked the nervous Gracie.
"He shan't," said Tubby.
"Yes... he SHALL!" yelled Gracie.
Gracie ran to the guard rail, eschewing the stewards, minor domos, and lesser domos who guarded the center stage...
"Turkey! You don't need any concoction! You don't need any elixir to help you sleep! All you need Turkey....." Gracie started.
"..." Turkey turned in his cozy bed to look at his wonderful wife.
"... all you need is for me to believe in you! I do! I believe in you, my big jelly bean!" yelled Gracie.
"You're right... I don't need any potion... but your Love!" said Turkey as he turned over and started sleeping like a raging elephant!
The two men slept for hours... then the hours turned the sun into the night... the crowd went home for the night and came back the next.... once again the hours turned into days... the nights and days lapsed and lapsed over each other like a school of fish in the seas of time. Soon four days had passed.
Turkey tossed and turned, he had bed sores, and wanted to use the water closet very badly.... yet, Canard was still out like a light thanks to the European Ether.
Turkey was about to admit defeat when he heard a solemn voice from the guard rail...
"Turkey you mustn't give in! I have become such a better bath man thanks to your wisdom. I have spent full entire days and nights in the bath thanks to you.... you inspire me to no end, Turkey ... please don't give up," said Sudsy.
"He's delirious from rest, Suds, he can't hear you..." said Tubby.
"Yes he can, Tubby, when you think he can't he actually can. I learned that many years ago when he was under the throws of the consumption... he heard every word Doctor Brown and myself said during his two weeks of resting," explained Gracie.
"Hmmmm...." Tubby said.
Tubby walked to the guard rail with his signature gaunt. The walk of a well fed man. He put his hand into his jacket and pulled out a simple brown-tan billed cap.
"It's.... it's... it's his eating hat," said the perplexed Sudsy.
Tubby threw it high into the air and watched with pride as it gently cascaded about the soft winds... then floated down gently... and landed with elegance right atop of Turkey's head as he slept.
The crowd gasped in unison.
Tubby walked back to his friends... they were looking at him in positive amazement.
"But, but, Mr. Reinhard... that is an eating hat, how shall it help Turkey sleep?" asked Gracie.
"Hmmmm..." said Sudsy as if he already knew the answer to that.
"That hat, doesn't actually help me eat, it was given to me by a man who taught me quite a lot about eating many many years ago... it is not an eating hat at all... it is a hat that represents trust ... it is a hat that represents joy ... it is a hat that represents brotherhood ... it is my most beloved possession in this world...." said Tubby solemnly.
"Who's hat was it?" asked Gracie.
"That is a story for another day, Mrs. Gehrke," said Sudsy.
Turkey's breathing slowed, his body relaxed, and his leg muscles un-stiffened as soon as the Hat of Brotherhood landed atop his sleepy noggin. Strangely, he didn't even feel the slightest urge to find a water closet anymore either.
The effect of the absinthe in combination with the European Ether was slowly starting to dissepate from the Domo's constitution. He happily opened his eyes, knowing he had won another sleep battle, yet when he turned to his side to revel in the victorious sight of an empty bed across the battlegrounds... he saw Turkey.... still in bed.... and was flabbergasted to no end.
"Major Domo... zis man iz steel azleeeep!" said a lesser domo to the Major Domo.
Canard De L'Oie said nothing... he searched many lands the world 'oer from Araby to the deepest regions of Africa to find a man who could out-rest him... and today he finally found that man. It was the happiest moment of his life to see Turkey still in bed.
"Turquay...." he began.
"Yes, Canard?" asked Turkey.
"Zank you from zee bottom of my heart of hearts," said Canard.
"Why?"
"Why? Why does a bird fly high up into zee sky, Turquay? Why does a fish swim deep in zee zea, mon ami? Because they vant to! Because they VANT TO! You have defeated me, Turquay, while I was under the most powerful combination of chemique I have ever experimented vith... Turkey you have let me discover what I vaz searching the Vorld for.... you are....
....Zee Greatest Sleeper in Zee Vorld."
To Be Continued.....
Chapter 6: Turkey has a Bout with Self Doubt!
Was sleeping for five months a year for so many years really such a good idea?
The time passed and Turkey continued sleeping through the winters as they showed up each and every year. He slept that calm nightmareless sleep that only a man who was truly beloved by his entire town can have. He truly was a Hero in Watertown and even all over the World now.
Until one day when Gracie opened his door to bring him his 7pm pickled eggs and she saw him lashing and slashing about the bed like a man who was having a crazy fever-pitched nightmare.
"Wake up my darling! Wake up! You are having a night mare! You are caught in a mare! Wake up!" she told him while gently shaking him back to the land of the awake.
"Oh, Gracie? Is it you? It must have.... it must've been only the night's mare which had caught my mind off guard whilst I was in the gentle embrace of sleep..." said the now-awake Turkey.
"What did your feverish nightmare involve, my love?" asked Gracie.
"It it it... it was horrifying, Gracie. I was having the dreamless sleep of a man beloved by his entire town... like I usually do... and then all went black! Pitch black! The...eyes.... two purplish eyes opened beneath the background of the darkness...."
"Oh my..."
"Yes. Gracie... the eyes spoke to me.... they told me 'I can't hide forever'... and that he shall one day find me and get me. Then a wide mouth opened, with sharp fangs...."
"Oh noooooo...."
"Yes, Gracie.... the fangs materialized in the darkness under the unblinking purple eyes! The fangs attacked me! They bit at my body! My face, and my nose, and even lunged at my groin, even!" said the terrified Turkey.
"It was only a dream my dearest..." assured Gracie.
"I don't think so, my love.... I think it was... the White Wolf himself. He's found me...." nervously stated Turkey.
"It wasn't real. It was only the night's terror beseeching your fragile sleeping mind, Turkey," she again tried to assure him.
"A man can't hide from Winter for his entire life, Gracie. One day the greatest hunter, The White Wolf itself, the terror that is Winter shall find him.... it is now... only a matter of time.... it is now only a matter of time until I am slain by the White Wolf!" exclaimed Turkey.
"...."
"What month is it?" asked Turkey.
"It is January, Turkey," she informed him.
"Goodness, I haven't had a good week's sleep in a full month now, Gracie. The darkness of my mind is keeping me endlessly awake...." said Turkey.
"Are you going to get up? Are you going to stop hibernating..." asked the worried Gracie.
"No. I shall try to catch forty winks.... maybe if I gird my mind with the steel-grip of a stalwart sleeper I shall be able to keep my mind's demons at bay for a while..." said Turkey.
"Forty weeks!? You can't sleep for forty weeks!" she exclaimed under the surprise.
"Forty weeks? No, no, I said I shall catch forty winks!" laughed Turkey.
"Oh hahahaahahahahhahahahaahah!" laughed Gracie with her signature giggles that put Turkey's heart at ease each time she employed it.
"Oh well, goodnight, my dear," said Turkey as he rolled over and attempted to go back to sleep.
Luckily the White Wolf did not show his chilling visage in Turkey's dreams again that winter... and soon winter came to an end... and it was time to wake up and re-join the world of the awake for another seven months for our Hero.
"Good morning Turkey," said Gracie.
"Yes, good morning to you, Gracie," said Turkey.
"You are not going to shower me with pleasant poetry this Spring?" she asked him.
"I don't know .... I ... am riddled with regret, Gracie.... I am cast under towards endless worry by the ghosts of the past. All I can think about is the Time I have let slip through the openings of my fingers like sand through an hour glass...." he began.
"Turkey why do you feel so?" she asked.
"Ever since the White Wolf has beseeched my dreamless sleep... all I can focus on is regret, worry, and scorn for my past. Five months of the year sleeping like a bear... think of all the time that has been whisked away... all the moments that have passed through the hour glass... all the time spent doing nothing... Am I really a Hero?" lamented Turkey.
"You are.. of course you are, Turkey!" she countered.
"Am I? Am I really? Maybe I should have spent those days traveling over seas and seeing the sights and sounds of other lands... like that Domo did... seeing Araby and Africa and the Orient and what not," continued lamenting Turkey.
"There's still time if you want to, Turkey," she told him.
"We are in our fifties now, Gracie, we have climbed over the hill which is the peak of our natural lives... now we commence the detente and denouement portion of our rich well-lived lives... our spring-like youth is behind us... our Salad Days are further and further becoming just a distant memory than ever now.... do you remember our honeymoon in Minnesota, Gracie?" asked the wistful Turkey.
"Of course... it was the most romantic time of my life. I shall never forget the pickles we savored at the fair... they were so good," reminisced Gracie.
"Yes, I don't know how they made those... I mean, it must be something to do with the aging process... maybe the type of barrel those pickles were aged in. Either way, I can still taste them in my mind's eye.... and I can still see you in that yellow summer dress next to me as I tasted them... you were so beautiful in your youth, Gracie. You were the most beautiful woman I ever saw...." reminisced Turkey as he reviewed his joyful memories in wistful detente.
"Oh Turkey...." she said as she ran and threw her arms around him.
"Let's go on a second honeymoon, Gracie. Let us return to Minnesota... the land of our memories and try to recapture the magic of our happiest times... we must make arrangements quickly.... but first let's eat something," said Turkey.
"Oh Turkey! I never dreamed we'd go back there... to our most romantic days and try to re-live them anew! I am the happiest woman on earth!" exclaimed the ecstatic Gracie.
To Be Continued....
Chapter 7: Goodbye My Love....the Sweetest of Sorrows befalls Turkey!
A heart torn in two!
Our Heroes, Turkey and Gracie, packed their bags, suit cases, and valises... and got on an outbound train straight to Minnesota, the land of their forgotten youth. The train roared down the tracks to memories past.
"Let's go to the dining car, Turkey!" exclaimed the excited Gracie.
"Yes, let's, Love," responded Turkey to the woman he loved.
They sat in the fanciest dining car they had ever sat in. Turkey had a beef burger with a side of french-fried style potatoes. Gracie ordered the pasta selection, the lasagna, with a Greek-style salad as her anti-pasto.
"How's your anti-pasto, sunshine-of-my-life?" asked Turkey while setting his burger down for a second.
"It is simply divine, Turkey," answered Gracie.
"Life sure is great, isn't it? Nothing is greater than having not-a-single care and just eating good food and watching the world pass us by as this work-of-modern-engineering shuttles us like rocketeers to the Land of Yesterday... Minnesota," gently said Turkey while he looked out of the window at the moving scenery.
Rivers cascaded into hills, hills parlayed into mountains, mountains transitioned seamlessly into azure skies, and azure skies spiraled into the happiest little clouds he's ever seen.
"I remember these sights, Turkey, from our honeymoon all those years ago," said Gracie as she re-experienced the moving landscapes outside of the window.
"Yes, I do as well...." softly recalled Turkey.
The train arrived at its destination, the Past Memories of Love Birds in their Youth....
"It is Minnesota, Gracie," said Turkey as they got off the train in single-file with the other passengers.
"It .... is," she said.
They marked on their map the fairgrounds and began walking arm-in-arm to their next destination. On the way, however, a wino approached!
"Wow it's a big city wino!" exclaimed Gracie.
"My goodness, he's much much much drunker than our small-city winos!" exclaimed Turkey.
"Hahahahaha! I shall never forget this experience, Turkey!" she excitedly giggled.
"Neither shall I, my dear..." he said as they continued walking.
They arrived at the fair grounds and it slowly morphed into memories lost to the past. Turkey and Gracie recalled their entire lives... the good times, the bad times, and even the boring in-between times... it was great.
"I see it, Gracie, the pickle pavilion..." he told her.
"I see it, too, Turkey...." she replied.
They sampled pickle after pickle until they hit the sweet spot of Total Nostalgia! They both looked at each other after they bit into this fantastic pickled cucumber.
"..." she said.
"This is it... I remember this savory taste... THIS IS... IT! This is what we were searching for!" yelled Turkey.
"It's the pickles of our past! I remember this taste as if it were yesterday!" she gleed.
"Kind sir, what manner of pickle is this...?" Turkey asked the pickle pavilion attendant.
"Those? Why those bad boys are Sweet n' Hot Kosher pickles... they are aged for half a year in sweet brine, garlic, and wine vinegar in an old fashioned oaken barrel..." kindly explained the pickle pavilion attendant.
"You were right, Turkey, it is the aging process..." said Gracie.
"It was, yes, it was the aging process....now, I see," said Turkey.
Their journey to the past to re-live their youth was a stunning success yet all good things must come to an end, old friends. They ate one more pickle, soaked in the sights and sounds of the fair grounds one last time, slowly made their exit, and then they boarded the train and went back home to Watertown...
....while they were walking up the stairs to their apartment, Gracie's heart clenched. She never told Turkey this... but she was born with a weak heart that was not meant to have the constitution to allow her to make it to her thirties let alone her fifties...
She tumbled the stairs. Turkey was in shock, he didn't know what to do. He helped her to a resting-sitting position on the bottom of the stair case and ran into the tavern.
"Mr. Hohmmer! Call an ambulance! Please! Mr. Hohmmer! Call for the ambulance!" yelled the frantic and panicked Turkey.
He rushed back to his beloved...
"Turkey, there's something I've never told you in all our years. I meant to tell you at the Minnesota fair of our honeymoon all those years ago... yet seeing how happy you were eating those Kosher pickles ... I just couldn't summon the courage to make you worry... but you see Turkey...." she started.
"My beloved, what is it?" he said in tears.
"When I was born the doctors didn't think I'd make it to my fifth birthday... for I was born with a weak heart that murmured instead of beat. They didn't think I'd ever develop the resolve or constitution to live a full life..." she told him.
"Gracie......"
"I met you when I was only but nineteen, my big bird, and you filled my heart with so much love that it taught itself how to beat instead of murmur... and when you defeated that Major Domo ... my heart finally became a full-fledged heart... and it beat stronger than even a normal person's heart.... but alas," said Gracie.
"....."
"No mortal woman can stop the flows of fate or defy the impossible forever. You taught my heart to beat and extended my life for decades, Turkey.... but a Turkey's Love can only soar for so long... and make a weak heart that should have gave out long ago continue to go on...." she said.
Memories flickered in his mind as she spoke. Her life flashed in front of his very eyes...
"Gracie.... you can't... you cannot leave me..." he implored her.
"Turkey, I love you," she told him.
"I love you too, Gracie..." he told her.
"Good Bye..... My Love," she bid him farewell.
"No....."
"....."
"NO!"
"......"
"It cannot be...."
"......."
"Good Bye......
...........................My Love." said Turkey.
To Be Continued.....
(Chapter 7 Resumes)
Months had passed since Turkey's greatest Ordeal had tragically bestrucken him. It is already early December... but Turkey hadn't had a good night's rest in weeks. Seeing as he couldn't sleep, he went down to his tavern, "The Turkey's Roost" to ask Mr. Hohmmer, the bartender, something...
"Good afternoon, Mr. Hohmmmmmer," said Turkey.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Gehrke," said Mr. Hohmmer.
"Mr. Hohmmer, do you remember that short reel from the Three Stooges where they are waiters?" asked Turkey.
"I think so... there are several where they are waiters. There's one where they are waiting on these dubious sheiks of Araby and..." started Mr. Hohmmer.
"No, not that one. It's one where they are waiters for these very rich and fine people ... and in the kitchen Larry is making a mess... and at one point, Larry is fooling around with this contraption that brings food and drink up and down the place like a tiny elevator lift... and...." said Turkey.
"Um, I don't think I recall that particular short, no," replied Mr. Hohmmer, trying his best to remember.
"Well, Moe sees him fuddling poorly with the contraption and he slams Larry's head into the contraption ... and then he closes the door on his head with the old army's try... and then repeatedly closes the contraption's door on his friend's skull, causing Larry harm and distress, and..." droned Turkey.
"I don't think that ever happened in the Stooges reels..." said Mr. Hohmmer unsure of the matter.
"Maybe I dreamt that one. I must say, when a man sleeps for five months of the year, the worlds of Reality and Un-Reality seem to forge a strange marriage in one's mind. I believe I have broadly cast many reels of the Stooges in my dreams... that never actually were aired. Almost as if my imagination created new Stooges reels of its own volition under the calmness of my sleep...." pontificated Turkey.
"Really?" asked Mr. Hohmmer.
"Yes, really," answered Turkey.
"Ok," then said Mr. Hohmmer.
"Well, why I bring it up Mr. Hohmmer, is, what is that contraption called? A contraption that brings small items up to other stories of the place by means of varying gears and tinker-like engineering?" asked Turkey.
"Those are dumbwaiters, Turkey," informed Mr. Hohmmer.
"Dumb... waiters? They exist in reality?" asked the confused Turkey who's notions of what is real and what is dream have been confabulated over time.
"Yes, they exist in reality," said Mr. Hohmmer.
"Is it hard to acquire one?" asked Turkey.
"No, not particularly," said Mr. Hohmmer.
"Hmmmm....." said Turkey.
More time had passed in Watertown, it was now February, Turkey did indeed have a dumbwaiter installed like the one he saw in a dream he had about the Three Stooges. He asked Mr. Hohmmer to send him up a variety of deli-meat sandwiches at 1pm... milk and cookies at 3pm... and pickled eggs at 7pm.
He ate the sandwiches.... but they were not Her sandwiches.
He ate the cookies ... but they were not Her cookies.
He ate the pickled eggs .... they were okay.
Turkey didn't feel like sleeping this February... so he got up... used the water closet... then went to the telephone in the kitchen to call his pal.... Sudsy.
"Hello, Sudsy the bath man speaking," greeted Suds into the phone.
"Hey Suds, do you remember all those years ago when you asked me what my favorite word was?" Began Turkey.
"Yeah... you told me 'No' was your most favorite word and 'winter' and 'cold' or 'both' were your least faves, old chum," said Suds.
"No, you asked me if my favorite word was 'sleep'... and I said 'No' as in 'no, it is not'... but 'No' is not my favorite word, Sudsy," said Turkey.
"Oh. Well, what is?" asked Sudsy.
"It's..... Gracie," said the solemn Turkey.
"...yes, I would think so. How are you holding up, big Turk? Are you alright?" asked the empathetic Sudsy.
"I'm.... alright, I guess," he said.....
"Okay, hang in there old Turkey," said Sudsy.
He hung up the phone and made some oatmeal. He put it on the table, pulled out a chair, and sat. He then put his spoon into to it but couldn't bring himself to eat any of it. He went to the cupboard and picked up a bag of soft-bean jelly-candies and walked slowly back to the table. He put some red, green, and yellow candies into the oatmeal to liven it up. The yellow melting swirl in his oatmeal reminded him of her summer dress... the red reminded him of her favorite hat... and the green reminded him of the pickles of his past.
"It's not Her oatmeal...." woed Turkey.
He went back to sleep and awaited Mr. Hohmmer's next dumbwaiter supply reinforcement... yet once again, he could not sleep. His mind, just like his heart, was torn completely in two.... and if his mind's defenses were not fully manned at all times... the White Wolf would definitely beseech him in his dream's reality.
Turkey could no longer sleep all winter... he just did not have the energy needed to do it.... and after twenty seven years of hibernating in winter... the ritual was no more....
"I think, I shall go outside this February..." he said to himself.
To Be Continued.....
Chapter 8: Turkey Acquires Galoshes!
A lonely, forgotten man re-sets foot unto Winter and re-discovers his love for Bowling!
Turkey was feeling down because giving up on the thing that made him severely incredibly famous felt like he just finished a really good book and now it was time to close the cover and put it down.
He stepped outside, the cold winds howled as if they were speaking to him,
"Staaaaay hoooooooooo-oooooooh-ooooooooommmmmmme," the winds said.
"Oh no, begone foul winds! Begone! Stop thy howling!" cursed Turkey to the winds.
"Noooooooooooooo-oooooooooh-ooooooooooooo Noooooooooooooo," they responded.
Turkey pressed on, it was the first time he had felt cold in twenty seven years, it was slightly refreshing but it was also horrible treachery and he hated it. Out of the corner of his eye as he passed the corner of the intersection of the first street... he saw a large white animal on four legs... he turned to get a full look.... it was the White Wolf ... it had PURPLE EYES ... and sharp fangs!
"...."
He blinked, rubbed his tired eyes, and re-opened them... the ghastly marauder was gone, the White Wolf was only a figment of his imagination. It worried him though.
"The White Wolf of my dreams... is it real? No, it cannot be," he assured himself.
He made it to his intended destination, the clothing wares store, to buy warm clothes for he hadn't in almost three decades for he had no use for them.
"Hmmm, almost thirty years of not buying warm things. Think of the money I've saved... think of it. The common walking-around average-man probably buys a new coat, warm socks, and treachery-resistant foot-wear almost every winter ... for the malfeasance of the season probably destroys what he buys every time. I have must've saved a fortune! No wonder we were able to go on train trips to big cities like Chicago and others," thought Turkey.
Jacob Fields approached...
"Hey Turkey!? You are out of your bed at this time of the year? You usually sleep another two months or so...no?" asked Jacob from the grocer's market.
"Yes, old Jacob, I have arisen from my slumber early this time... I just don't have the energy to sleep all day long any longer since my ordeal," replied Turkey.
"I see, how are you holding up, Turkey?" asked the sympathetic Jacob Fields.
"Ok. I'm okay, you know..." he replied.
"Turkey... what about when November of this year hits ... when the winds howl... you won't jump back into your warm bed and under your toasty covers? It's a pretty mild February this year... you should have seen December it was positively disastrous... snow upon snow," said Jacob.
"Snow? Snow upon snow? Oh woe...." woed Turkey.
"I bet you twenty five smackoleons, twenty and five whole buckeroos that come New Year's day of next year... you'll be hibernating again. You can take a Turkey out of his sleep but you can't take the sleep out of the Turkey ... as the old folks always say," bet Jacob.
"Twenty and five whole simoleons!? If I just don't fall under come November and stay out and about until New Year's Day?" asked Turkey.
"Yup."
"My goodness. You better take those simoleons and set 'em aside, Jacob... for they are already inside of my pouch come New Year's... it's in the bag," said the proud Turkey.
"You'll need a new hobby now that you gave up resting, Turkey, why not join me down at the bowler's lanes and toss a coupla rocks, my good fellow?" asked Jacob.
"It is a great idea, Jacob. I haven't been in twenty seven years... I miss it fondly, the bowling, I do," replied Turkey.
"Sounds great, Turk!" exclaimed Jacob at the prospect that he shall bowl with a famous person.
"First, old timer, I need to buy some warm foot wear... for my feet are ever so cold," informed Turkey.
"Have you heard of that old shoe man on the other side of town yet? The kooky one? He is running about telling people he's invented some sort of something or other ... a 'gallicae" he is calling them... I think all the glue he's sniffed from his confined cobbler's shop has made him mad, to be honest," suggested Jacob.
"A gallicae? Hmmm, I've heard of this. It is some sort of an "over-shoe" or some such like from ancienter times ... what is this shoe man's name?" asked the interested Turkey.
"His name is Longo Radley ... the Mad Cobbler," said Jacob.
"I shall meet this man... he sounds as though he may be one of the heroes of our age from your description," said Turkey.
"I doubt it. The glue swimming around that crazy man's brain has made him an eccentric who is destined for the loony house, Turk," replied Jacob.
Turkey was fascinated by the speak of this gallicae shoe... or was it a boot? He had to know... he changed destinations and reversed course and began making headway towards the other side of Watertown... to the Mad Cobbler's shoe shop.
To Be Continued....
(Chapter 8 Resumes)
Turkey made his way across the rail road tracks to the shabbier part of Watertown, he kept his eyes peeled for ruffians, winos, and ne'er-do-wells as he made his way to the eccentric cobbler's location.
"This must be it, Longo's it says here," read Turkey from an old beaten up sign in front of a store.
He entered slowly...
"Hello, I am Turkey Gehrke, the former Hibernator of Watertown, I am looking for a man who goes by the monicker of Longo Radley... is he in?" asked Turkey.
"...Yeah."
"Glorious day! I must ask him about his gallicae research and if he's completed one as of yet..." started Turkey.
"A what? A gallicae? Get out... now," deliberately stated Longo Radley.
"Please don't eschew me under false pretense sir Radley!" countered Turkey.
"If you think I am making some kind of leather Roman boot over here... you are barking up the wrong tree, Gehrke," said Longo.
"I had only heard rumors that you are creating an extraordinary shoe or boot in this confined cobbler's shop," said Turkey.
"Yes. Yes. Yes, I am. It is my most prized boot that has ever exited my craftman's hands. It is a complete and total master piece...." began Longo.
"May I see it sir Radley?" asked Turkey.
"Yes...but first, are you like all the others? Do you think I am a crazy person who sits in his shoppe and sniffs glue all day?" asked the untrusting Longo Radley.
"No, I have been sleeping for a while... I have only heard of rumors of your footwear heroism only but recently," assured Turkey.
"They don't get it. They just don't. Is it I who is crazy? Or is it all of them? Maybe inside this shoppe, with poor air circulation, and filled with the smell of industrial glue... resides the only man who is sane. Outside of this shoppe, where the air flows freely, and the air smells fresh instead of like glue... is where the actual crazy people reside. Going about their days without the sweet aroma of glue swimming around their mundane brains..." began Longo.
Turkey smelled the air in the cobbler's shop and it did smell like powerful industrial-strength glues of various intensities. Turkey was begining to think that Jacob Fields was correct in his assessment that Longo was a crazy person.
"...like, rats... they scurry about the prison of the outside world. Never knowing the Real World is in here... with the gluuuuue," he said as the pupils of his eyes dilated and expanded.
"I uhhh... yes, I agree with you, Longo. I spend great deals of time alone, as well. Ever since my Ordeal I have spent what has felt like a lifetime in loneliness. I recently noticed my brain can transmit entire short reels of the Stooges that don't even exist. I can see your point," reciprocated Turkey.
"You... don't think I am mad?" asked the pupil-dilated Longo.
"Of course not. You are just a lonely forgotten man.... like me," said Turkey.
"I am.... a forgotten man... but it does not have to be this way. Would you like to see my boot?" asked the intrigued Longo who now almost trusted Turkey.
"Yes, I do," said Turkey.
"It is only a prototype it is not in its final form yet. I call it ... Galoshes," said Radley as he held on-high above his head a strange black boot with a brown heel.
Turkey's eyes widened as he looked at the majesty of the boot.
"You know the rubber they use to make tank treads, galvanized rubber, as strong as steel and as flexible as a noodle?" asked Longo.
"Yes, it is almost as if you've taken the power of Sweet Stroke Samuels and combined it with the dynamic fielding flair of Two Step Braunschewer!" said Turkey in almost non-belief.
"Yes, these boots have the POWER! They have the POWER!!" exclaimed the Mad Cobbler.
"How much?" asked Turkey.
"You are the first person who's ever believed in me and listened to what I had to say... these prototype Galoshes ... are yours, take them," said Longo as he handed Turkey the boots.
"Thank you Sir Radley, you are truly a Hero of Our Age," said Turkey with gratitude.
"Thank you, sir Turkey for coming here today and teaching me how to care about my boots again, I shall make thousands of these! Thousands upon thousands!" said Longo Radley with renewed vigor for boots.
Turkey left the cobbler, to meet Jacob at the lanes to launch a few rocks as they called them. He arrived slightly late but not too late.
"You're fashionably late. Big Turk!" exclaimed the happy Jacob who had already told his bowling friends that he shall be bowling with a celebrity this evening.
"It's the man of the hour glass himself, the Hero of Watertown, Turkey Gehrke!" exclaimed another bowler.
"See... I told you I wasn't lying!" proudly stated Jacob.
"Let's throw down some rocks, old fellow," said Turkey who was slowly remembering what being happy felt like since his Ordeal.
"Those are some mighty smooth boots...." said another bowler who was impressed by Turkey's new boots.
"They are galvanized rubber over-shoes hand crafted by the greatest Shoe Man of our Generation... sir Longo Radley of the Other Side of Town!" proudly shouted Turkey overcome with pride in his grand boots.
"Longo? The crazy glue cuckoo from over the tracks made those?" asked the perplexed Jacob Fields.
"Yes, he's truly a master at his art and a golden man at his craft," said Turkey.
Turkey bowled pretty well for a man who hadn't whipped a bowling ball in almost thirty years, he had three orange knee-high sodas, said goodbye to the bowlers and made for home. The snow and the slush were of no consideration nor consequence to him now... for his feet were warm and fully resistant to the treachery of Winter. The White Wolf was completely at bay.... for now.
Once the press got word that Turkey acquired galoshes... they flipped out! The presses were stopped and the current front page of the newspaper was thrown away and they changed the printing plate in great haste to get this front page headline out in time for tommorow...
"Turkey Acquires Galoshes - Ready for Colder Days!!"
The next day they sold out the paper in minutes and had to print a second batch for the evening. It was truly a great day in Watertown and everyone was happy.
Meanwhile in Chicago....
To Be Continued.....
(Chapter 8 Resumes)
....Tubby and Sudsy were browsing the late edition of the newspaper. There was stunning news out of Watertown concerning their friend that whupped them into a big clamor.
"Tubby! He's bought galoshes!" exclaimed Sudsy.
"He's out and about in Winter? His hibernations have come to an end, old friend. Just like a cowboy riding off into the sun's set... so too is our Hero... Turkey," said Tubby wistfully.
"All good things must come to an end, eh old man?" said the somber Sudsy.
"Twenty seven years... it all goes by so fast, Suds. I can remember it like it was yesterday when I first saw his jolly face cheering me on o'er the guard rail at the Eating Festival. His face was so young and full of life... he and his wife, Gracie ... were the epitome of jubilance. Now, the march of time has caught up to him. He truly was the best sleeper in this world..." said Tubby as he reminisced fondly with Sudsy.
"Remember when you tossed your eating hat high up into the air at the Sleep Off and it ever so gently landed atop his sleepy noggin?" asked Sudsy.
"....hahahahaha, the winds were in our favor that day, ol' Suds... the winds were in our favor," replied Tubby with glee.
"Say, Tubs, check out this article on page five..." said Sudsy as he passed Tubby the paper.
"Baron Von Death to come out of retirement for one last match?" the quizzical Tubby read aloud.
"That's Big Turk's favorite wrestle-man, you know," informed Sudsy.
"Yes, he's a giant fan of the Baron's... I shall send him a telegram concerning this matter and invite him to attend the match with us..." said Tubby.
"It's in the Big Apple, Tubs, New York City!" excitedly stated Sudsy.
Much time passed like sands through an hour glass, Meanwhile in Watertown .............
"...a telegram via the post?" said Turkey as he opened his letter from the postman.
"It's from Chicago, Turkey, it's from Tubby Reinhard," informed the postman.
"Thank you kindest sir," said Turkey.
Turkey opened the letter...
Dearest Turkey,
It is I, Tubby Reinhard, of Chicago, a man who is proud to call you his friend. I am writing to formally invite you to attend a Wrestling Match in New York City (the Big Apple) on the 5th of next month with yours truly, Tubby Reinhard, and Sudsy the Bath Man.
I know life has been hard on you, my friend, as the fortunes of the twisting fates of time have not smiled on you of late. I have read you have recently gave up your favorite pass-time of sleeping all day in Winter. I was very saddened to learn of this.
The road of life is always obstructed by hardships, Turkey. It is a road of happiness, success, heroism but it is also a road of struggle, suffering, and painful moments.
I shall never forget the moments we shared together at the Illinois State Fair when you out-ate me at the meat pavilion... and I shall always remember with the most fondest pride how you defeated Canard De L'Oie and become the World's most renowned 'Slepper' as you'd call it back then.
You've been on so many train trips over the years, you've been down many winding roads, Turkey. I wish for you to go on one more. I dearly hope you'll accept my humble invitation. I have already purchased three high-class tickets and they come with full dining car access. We can eat a lot of food on the way to New York. If you need any further convincing, the headlining main event for this extravaganza will feature Baron Von Death in his coming-out-of-retirement match. It is something that will surely lift your spirits.
From our conversations over the years, old Turkey, I know you have never seen the sights and sounds of the biggest city with the biggest buildings... New York. I know your constitution is lessened and your heart is broken... but you owe it to yourself, Hero, to go on one more adventure. You shall forever regret declining this humble invitation...
P.S.
You are my favorite friend....
From
Tubby
Turkey read the letter with misty eyes....
"One more adventure before I close this old book, eh Tubby?" Turkey said to himself.
He picked up his favorite fountain pen, inked it up, and started to write out his reply to the invitation...
Dearest Tubby,
It is true that o'er the last year I have been very lonely and low. Your letter has found me at the right time and has livened my achy spirits. You are correct in your assessment that I have never seen the Big Apple, New York City, in my humble lifetime and dearly wish to do so whilst the candle of my weakened constitution still meagerly burns.
You are also to be commended for knowing I would want to see Baron Von Death wrestle a match in person for he truly is my favorite wrestler ever. His command on the Death Claw is remarkable and can make a fellow admit surrender and hoist the white flag within seconds after the clutch-hold is administered to the mid-section. For the life of me, I still do not know why men from the world o'er attempt to jump into the squared-circle with him and attempt to out-wrest him. They must be gluttons for pain to willingly wish to have the tumultuous hold of the Death Claw fastened to their abdomen in a vice-like grip.
I am humbly going to accept your invitation with zero regret in my heart. I am more excited for this trip with you and Sudsy the Bath Man than I have been for anything in the last lonely while. I am filled with wonder over what they shall serve on the dining car and it is almost overwhelming me to wonder about it as I write this.
I hope the days until we meet are pleasant ones for you, sir Reinhard, I shall eagerly be counting down the days until we set out on our adventure with excitement inside of my chest.
P.S.
You are the greatest guy...
From
Arthur "Turkey" Gehrke
He signed, sealed, stamped, and delivered it to the post office himself in his galoshes. It would be one full month until he could see Tubby and Sudsy but it gave him something to look forward to. He walked around during the morning time of everyday, ran the tavern with Mr. Hohmmer in the afternoon, went bowling at night, and slept for about seven hours like a fairly normal person would. He could not wait for his next adventure...
Onward to New York, faithful Turkey!
To Be Continued.....
Turkey counted down the days, excitedly awaiting until they were all counted away and he, Tubby, and Sudsy could make their way down to New York to see the wrestling matches. Tubs and Suds arrived in Watertown a day prior to leaving for New York so they could all ride together... eventually, the day arrived.
They boarded the train and looked out the window as Watertown got smaller and smaller, further and further, away from them. The train washed Turkey's sorrows away as if he was getting away from them for a while. The company of his great friends Tubby and Sudsy was truly great camaraderie. The three of them together was like three minds melded together. One a great Sleeper, one a great Eater, and one a great Bather. Their talents were true talents of the everyday person, unlike some other talents, as they discussed on the ride to New York...
"You ever see the Olympics one where they do it in the Winter instead of the Summer and there's these ding bats falling all over the ice on skates and these dodo birds crashing down hills on their heads... making a big hoopla about falling down and hurting themselves on mountains?" asked Turkey.
"Yes, I've seen a short reel at the theater-house where the man with the stilts attached to his feet, the wrong way by the way, he has the stilts flat instead of pointing up, gets only about five feet down the hill and then takes a nasty spill and rolls down like a buffoon," laughed Sudsy.
"They have one contest where it is like they didn't know what to do next so they just mashed three contests together like a batch of mashed potatoes with butter and gravy! A fellow must swim a frozen lake, then jump on wrong-way-around stilts to slide down the mountain's side, and then shoot a rifle at non-live targets! What a roe! Then they have the nerve to call an Eating Contest an event sans class... as if crashing down a hill and hunting a non-existant animal is classy," agreed Tubby Reinhard.
"Have you seen what they have taken to calling Wrestling at the Olympics, gents?" asked Turkey with a disapproving grin on his face.
"It's DREADFUL!" said Sudsy.
"It is utterly without class," agreed Tubby.
"They purport the great extravaganza of Wrestling to be nothing more than two weirdoes with nappies on their heads holding each other in clutch-locks for like five seconds then the referee tells them to separate ... so they separate briefly, then they go back into the same hold for five more seconds ... then the referee separates them... ad NAUSEAM!" mentioned Turkey on the topic of what the Olympics considers as Wrestling.
"Imagine the masked man of the hour glass himself, Humberto Huerta, participating in the matches the Olympics considers as Wrestling? His opponent would be in shock the moment Huerta did a black flip! The judges would actually faint!" decreed Tubby.
"...or imagine if the Baron showed up!?" said Turkey.
Both his friends lost it. They laughed like crazy!
"The Olympic committee would drop a large one right in their trousers if the Baron showed himself at the Olympics!" agreed Sudsy.
At that moment the food cart arrived in the dining car they were sitting in. The first course was Caesar Salad, with assorted fruit salad, and a choice of orange juice, grape juice, or mango juice.
"What are mango?" asked Turkey.
"I'm not sure..." said Sudsy.
They both looked towards the expert...
"They are from the isles of South East Asia... they are great fruit, great fruit, you can eat them all day long and not gain weight, it's great," informed Tubby.
"What color are they?" asked Turkey.
"Orangish, like an orange..." replied Tubby.
"Oh," said Sudsy.
"I think I will try the Mango juice, kind sir," Turkey said politely to the food cart attendant.
"I, as well," said Sudsy.
"Make that three, kind fellow," said Tubby.
The salad was good, the fruit selection was varied, and good... as for the Mango juice, it was something new.
"This is a great flavor. It is like orange juice but... more fuller," said Turkey.
"Yes, yes... it has a certain something to it that an orange's juice lacks," agreed Sudsy.
"Yes...." said Tubby.
"Are you sure you can eat or drink mangoes all day long and not gain weight, Tubs?" asked Turkey.
"Hmmm, it is rather filling I'd venture to point out, as well," said Sudsy in agreement with Turkey.
"Well, I have a good metabolism, you see," replied Tubby.
"Oh," said Turkey.
"Yes, I see," said Sudsy.
The food cart clanked back in and brought the main dish... salmon meuniere. The salmon was coated in butter and served with capers and a side of fresh lemon.
"Voila," said the food cart attendant.
"Gentle sir... this salmon looks amazing!" said Turkey.
"Fresh fish... you can never go wrong with fresh fish," said Sudsy.
"You can say that again, Suds," agreed Tubby.
They ate the fish, it was good. Next, the cart clanked back in and dessert was unloaded unto their table. It was a choice between pudding or cheese cake... with coffee or tea.
"Cheesecake," said Turkey, Sudsy, and Tubby in unison....which caused them to lose it and laugh heartily.
They ate the cheesecake slowly, sipped their coffee slowly, and looked out the window of the dining car at all of the moving shapes over the landscape... they really took their time and enjoyed it.
To Be Continued....
The train pulled into the station! The grandest and centralest station in the world! It was very great! Turkey was having difficulty believing his eyes!
"This city is even much bigger than Chicago! The buildings are gigantic as if they are able to pierce the skyline with their vertical nature! This city is truly astounding!" Exclaimed Turkey.
"It is a marvel's marvel... the Big Apple itself, Turkey," said Sudsy who'd been here before.
"What kind of food is the Apple known for?" asked Turkey.
"The pizza is where I would direct you firstly, kind Turkey," suggested Tubby.
"The style of pizza you've encountered in the mid-west, especially in Chicago, is a deeper-dish pizza Turkey, if that's your conception of pizza... the pizza you know and like... I'm not sure if New York style pizza shall suit your fancy, old chum," informed Sudsy.
"I must try New York style pizza," said Turkey.
They made headway to Luigi's thanks to the pre-hand knowledge of the region scouted many years before by Tubby Reinhard who had a shortlist in his pocket of every restaurant he's ever eaten in all over the world... and a score of the proceedings that ranged from zero to five.
"Luigi's is a fiver, old mates," said Tubby.
"You have a short list in your pocketbook of every meal at every restaurant you've ever eaten in your entire life, Tubs?" asked the impressed Turkey.
"Yes, my memory is good but when your hobby is eating sometimes you need to keep a journal of sorts as a log to aid your memories..." said Tubby.
The three men stepped into Luigi's and a jovial mustachioed man approached the party...
"A Tubby-a Rein-hard! You're-a back!" said the jovial owner Luigi the Pizza Man.
"Luigi, old friend, the most able pizza man the world o'er, how goes it this fair day?" asked Tubby.
"Hello, Luigi!" exclaimed Sudsy.
"Sudsy! Buongiorno you-a bath-a man you! I missed you so-a much!" exclaimed the jovial pizza shoppe owner.
Luigi took one look at Turkey and almost doubled-over in pure and full shock!
"Turkey-a Gehrke! Do these humble-a eyes-a mine deceive me!? You are-a my IDOL! You're this guy who-a sleeps ALL DAY. I gotta-a tell-a my entire family you are in our pizza shoppa! Maria, Giuseppe, Mario, Stella, Pia, and even you-a little Flavio come-a outta here ... you-a gotta see this! It's the guy who-a SLEEPS! It's-a the guy who SLEEPS! He's here!" proudly shouted Luigi with glee as he summoned his whole family to meet Turkey.
A line of people clamored out from the kitchen of the restaurant to see what the shouting was about...
"Pappa a whaddya want-a? I'm-a back-a der makin' da sauce!" said wee Flavio.
"Flavio, bambino! You a never a ever a gonna a believe this! This a Turkey Gehrke! It's-a the guy! It's-a the guy-a who sleeps ALL DAY! The guy who don't like-a winter!" said the amazed Luigi.
The entire family of Luigi's was in total shock at who was in their establishment... they got on making the biggest and best pizza they ever made for this wonderful guy.
"Sir Luigi, you expert Pizza Man, my dearest friend, Turkey, has only ever eaten the mid-western pizzas, the deep dish, bread-heavy, ingredient-lessened, versions of pizza..." informed Tubby to the Pizza Man.
Luigi's jaw almost hit the floor in amazement....
"You-a eat-a only the Chicago pizza!? You callin' dat 'pizza'... PIZZA? Turkey, that 'pizza' is not a PIZZA! That 'pizza' a shepherd's-a pie! If you like-a dat kinda 'pizza' then I go-a getta some mashed potato from da store, some ground-a beef, and some creamed-a corn, and a make-a you-a good shephered's pie.... but if you-a wanna a Pizza... then lemme know right-a now.... because-a then-a I'm-a gonna-a make-a you-a a PIZZA!" explained the legendary Luigi of pizza fame.
"I don't want shepherd's pie, no. I would really like to try a true New York take on the Italian dish, yes," replied Turkey.
"One extra-large with everything.... Luigi," said Tubby.
Luigi and his family went to the kitchen where all the magic happens and whipped up an extra-large with everything on it...when they brought their magnificent creation out to be seen by our Heroes.... Turkey was at a loss for words.
"...."
"You-a try-a my-a Pizza... come on Turkey, you gonna like it!" instructed Luigi.
Turkey took a slice and bit into it... it was truly something else. He had never known pizza could be this way. The ones he's had in the mid-west were not like this. This pizza was thinner... the bread didn't fill you up as much... which left the eater time and space to truly enjoy the mixture and taste-combinations of the toppings. Turkey realized that a deep-dish only served to create unnecessary filler to the pizza eating event itself. The true pizza was an event of sauce, cheese, and toppings... combining to create a masterful work of total art upon a canvas of bread. Turkey never understood what pizza meant until he ate this one.
"How's the pizza, Turkey?" asked Sudsy.
"......"
"It's alright, Turkey?" asked Tubby.
"This pizza... has brought tears to my eyes... it is truly remarkable," said the solemn Turkey.
"You.... a.... like.....a..... my.....a......Pizza?" asked Luigi.
"Luigi... it's as if you've taken a series of ingredients and combined them to form a creation where each single component of the creation stands-alone yet doesn't stand-alone. It's a cascade of flavor yet one of total unity in and of it's own self. Each bite is like a unique, yet familiar sensation asking my brain a new question regarding the beauty of our world. When I bite the area with more pepperoni it's as if my brain is asking me...'isn't life great?'... and when I bite into the area where the sauce and green peppers mix in total unity yet still manage to stand-alone in their own respect as their own individual flavors... it's akin to my brain asking me....'is not the universe a beautiful one?' ... and when you get to the end of the Pizza... the sauce that lingers upon the humble canvas, the bread itself, which is so thin you forget it's there... yet by the time you bite your last bite towards... the freshly made bread canvas with the lightly lingering sauce... it's almost as if the fresh bread is reminding you who it is... and it is humble, hearty, warm, and flavorful... and when all of these forces of nature combine themselves into one piece of pizza....." Turkey monologued.
"Yes?" asked Luigi wide-eyed, hands-in-hand, and mustache twitching.
"....it is The greatest pizza I've ever eaten," said Turkey matter-of-factly.
"So... you like-a da pizza?" asked Luigi for confirmation.
"Yes, I like 'a' the Pizza," assured Turkey.
Luigi was so ecstatic that he asked his wife to bring two bottles of really good wine. One to drink and one to smash against the brick wall of the oven.
"Turkey! You-a drink dis one! Then dis one... you a break against the brick wall and yell "Salute" ... it a mean your health-a.... thatta way... you gonna have good health!" Instructed Luigi.
Turkey drank the bottle of wine and then took the other one and smashed it against the brick wall above the pizza oven. Shards of glass rained upon the floor and wine spilled and splashed on the brick which left a pleasant aroma of fermented grapes all around the pizza shoppe.
Every one laughed, danced, and sang. It was a joyous occasion for all.... yet like everything else, all good times must come to a close... The Sleeper, The Eater, and the Bath Man graciously thanked the Pizza Man and his kind kin... and made their exit....
....onward to the arena! Lest not a funny thing happen to them on the way to the arena!!
To Be Continued...
(Chapter 8 Resumes)
Nothing funny happened to them on the way to the arena, fortunately. They made it to the arena promptly, on-time, and nothing out of the ordinary occurred while making their way there.
"Madison Square Garden, Turkey, the Creme de la Creme of arenas!" informed Sudsy with excitement.
"It's like a picture postcard you can find at any gift shop yet it is right in front of my humble eyes," said Turkey.
"Yes gents, let's find our seating arrangements," said Tubby.
They entered the arena and found their seats, they were very good seats which allowed our Heroes to see the entire wrestling ring. Turkey had been to wrestling before back in his neck of the woods, but something about the Madison Square Garden gave it such a pomp and circumstance to the event which made the whole arena seem official.
An exhibitionary match led off the event, this match gave fans time to know it was beginning so they could get to their seats, it let the news people get their cameras into position to find good angles, and for the crew to make certain the ring was set up properly before the main matches began. This match saw Hobo Richards defeat Boxcar Lloyd via pin fall.
Tubby bought a hot dog and brought two more back for his friends before the next match...
The second match, or officially the first match as the previous one was just an exhibition to make sure everything was ready... was a high energy match featuring two Mexican wrestlers who jumped around like jumping beans and did impressive back flips and tumbles about the ring. Everyone in the arena was impressed and every fan had their energy levels brought up a few notches. They knew now that this event was going to be grand and worth every penny. This match ended with Humberto Huerta defeating El Diablo Jimenez via surprise pin fall... the surprise being a somersault that transitioned into a roll-up pin.
"What a tremendous somersault!" decreed Sudsy to the agreement of his compadres.
The third match featured ladies who pulled each others hair and slapped each other. They did a couple of back flips too which impressed everyone in attendance. This match ended in a disqualification as Hobo Shirley hit Beautiful Bonnie with her Hobo bindle... which was full of rocks.
Turkey went to get three orange sodas and some hot-bread salty pretzels for he and his friends...
The fourth match was the second-to-last, it had Hollywood Donnie Dutchman Douglas take on the relentlessly evil foreigner Hakmut of the Araby. This match unfortunately also ended via disqualification as the foreigner of Araby attacked Dutchman with his scimitar right in front of the referee who saw what Hakmut was about to do and promptly disqualified him without protest.
"Why must these villains always resort to underhanded means to best opponents better than they?" rhetorically asked Turkey.
"They just don't know any better.... they are born with evil in their constitutions," replied Tubby.
...and now the main event!
The announcer took to the loud speaker...
"In this corner the Champion of the North East! The affable fellow of affable fellows... of affable fellows! Hailing from the hills of Cali Forn Eye Aye... the one and only.... Joyful Johnny Johnson ... and his opponent... the most dangerous man in all of professional sporting! The walking monsoon of destruction.... hailing from Parts which as of this moment, due to the multitude of errors in modern day map-making being what they are.... are Parts which are Unknown... the most Deadly Human Being on Earth...
The crowd roared and cheered!
....Baron Von Death!" shouted the announcer.
"It's he! It's the Baron!" said Turkey as he saw a man dressed in black approach the ring.
The Baron shot into the ring and before the referee could show the fans Johnson's title or even tell them the rules... the Baron was choking the poor unsuspecting champion!
"The Baron of Death has made his move! He has the agility of a jungle's lynx!" said the happy Turkey.
"He wastes no time. He's a calculated wrestler... probably the best in the world today," explained Sudsy.
Baron Von Death was eschewed away from his opponent by the referee. The Baron removed his black cloak and draped it over the south-eastern turnbuckle post. Johnny Johnson lunged at the mysterious man with eyes burning for revenge! The Baron caught him mid-lunge and fastened Johnny in a Prussian Arm Lock... Johnny writhed in complete pain... the crowd could see the suffering in his eyes ... they were completely captivated by the match...
"It might be over already," ventured Tubby as a guess.
"No, Johnson is too strong to be done-in by that Prussian lock," countered Sudsy.
Johnson broke free and picked up the Baron and slammed him with little mercy or humanity to the unforgiving canvas. The Baron was surprised, Johnson then shifted into a Texan toe stretch... which looked really painful.
"Baron! Your feet!" exclaimed Turkey.
Johnson applied pressure to the toe hold. Turkey felt the need to run to the guard rail and tell the Baron not to give up!
"Don't give up Baron! You mustn't! I traveled from Watertown, Wisconsin to see you in victory!" yelled Turkey from the guard rail.
The Baron looked over at Turkey... he smiled... almost as if he knew who Turkey was! The Baron knew it was time to break free and turn-the-tables. He hoisted himself up from the toe stretch using every ounce of his strength, then while his foot was being held he jumped with his other foot and kicked Johnson who tumbled backward!
The crowd roared like a lion!
The Baron always set up the Death Claw with a gut-wrenching punch to the bread basket. He catapulted himself off of the ropes and smashed Johnson in the stomach!
"He's going for it!" exclaimed Turkey.
Baron Von Death, grabbed his opponent's now-weary bread basket and applied the Death Claw.... this match was over... no one could escape this clutch-hold.
"He did it!" exclaimed Turkey with pride in his favorite Wrestling Man.
"Your winner and NEW Champion... Barrrrrrrrrrrrrron Vooooooooooon DEATH!" shouted the announcer.
After the match was over, the crowd dwindled... Tubby told his friends that he would like to go back stage to meet the new Champion.
"They will not let us back there, Tubs," sadly said Turkey.
"Yes they will, I'm not only a Bath Man you see... but I'm also a News Man," said Sudsy.
"Oh yes," replied Turkey.
The three made their way backstage, as they entered the locker room various wrestling men started to cough on purpose...
"Cough, cough, kayfabe, cough, cough," the wrestlers all coughed.
Tubby approached the Baron as if he knew him. The two men shook hands and then Tubby introduced Turkey to the Baron himself.
"Baron, you are my most favorite wrestler, you are the best..." said the star struck Turkey.
"Turkey, the Hibernator, my humble skills shall never match yours... you are truly the Hero of Our Age... it is my pleasure to meet you," replied the equally star struck Baron Von Death.
"The Baron and I go way back," smiled the proud Tubby.
The Baron was out of his black cloak ring attire and wearing his civilian street clothes... he took out a simple brown-tan billed cap and gently put it on his head. Turkey looked at the cap in awe.
"It....can't be," said Turkey.
"Hahaha," said Tubby.
"The Hat of Brotherhood....it can't be," said Turkey.
"It is one and the same, Turkey, but to The Baron... it's a hat that helps him train.... he gave me one just like it many years ago," said Tubby.
"Turkey, I read of how you defeated the Major Domo ... it's why I vowed to come out of retirement. Your courage in the Sleep Off showed me that if you love to do something... you should do it until your last days..." said the solemn Baron.
"...." said Turkey.
"You taught me that, Turkey..." said the Baron as he turned and walked away.
"I........did?" asked Turkey to no one in particular.
To Be Continued......
Chapter 9: A Hero's Journey comes to an End!
Godspeed Turkey!
Many many years, three in fact, passed since our favorite fellow left New York, the Biggest City on Earth, and came back home to the humble confides of Watertown.
He was so taken by surprise by the kind words of Baron Von Death,
"Turkey, I read of how you defeated the Major Domo ... it's why I vowed to come out of retirement. Your courage in the Sleep Off showed me that if you love to do something... you should do it until your last days..."
-Baron Von Death
Turkey realized at that moment that he absolutely loved to sleep through winter like a Human Ursus. After January 1st came, the bet was won, he accepted the twenty five simoleons from Jacob Fields from the grocer's market.... then went to sleep for the rest of the winter...and resumed his hibernations for two winters after that one, until....
One fateful night during his calm rest....
"Aoooooooooooooooooooooo!" howled a voice in his dreamscape towards the newly set moon of his mind.
"White Wolf, I presume?" asked Turkey calmly.
"Yes," said the white silhouette which slowly formed and approached.
"You've come back after all these years, have you?" asked Turkey.
"Yes, I have...." said the White Wolf.
"I am not going to thrash about, or scream this time.... it would do me no good anyways, for I live alone now and no one shall wake me up from my accursed night mares," informed Turkey to the White Wolf.
"She's waiting for you... in eternity," replied the White Wolf.
"Is she? How fares her? Is she well wherever she is?" asked Turkey.
"Yes," replied the White Wolf.
"You want me to go 'there' and join her, is that it? You're not a vicious creature in the least, you have some sympathy in your work... even though your job is a difficult one you still manage to have some tact and perseverance, ol' chum," said Turkey.
"It's time now, Turkey, just climb upon me and I will take you .... 'there'," coldly informed the White Wolf yet with sadness in his eyes.
"Alright...."
"I just want you to know, Turkey, you're truly a great man. It is an honor to be your steed at this moment," proudly said the White Wolf.
"Thank you, my friend," said Turkey as he climbed upon the White Wolf and began riding towards eternity.
"Shall I swoop down ... so you can say farewell to your friends?" asked the White Wolf.
"Well, if it's not too much of a bother, old man, I'd say yes... you can soar through the air?" asked Turkey.
"Of course..." said the Wolf as they soared downward from the first layer of the dreamscape.
Turkey, riding his great steed, the White Wolf of Winter, soared through the air and out of his apartment... he saw Mr. Hohmmer outside the tavern...
"Goodbye to thee, Mr. Hohmmer! You are a great Bar Man.... and I shall miss you!" said Turkey.
Mr Hohmmer waved goodbye and said ... "Goodbye Turkey! Godspeed!"
He saw Jacob Fields walking down the street, looked down, and waved to him....
Jacob Fields the grocer waved goodbye and said.... "Goodbye Turkey! Godspeed!"
He flew to the bad part of town and over the cobbler's shop, Longo Radley knew something was a clamor and exited his shop for the first time in months....
Longo Radley, the Shoe Man waved goodbye and said.... "Goodbye Turkey! Godspeed!"
Turkey did loop-dee-loops through the air, picked up speed, and flew out of Watertown! He soared like a great eagle through the air! He made headway like a jet plane to Chicago and dropped his altitude to see more of his friends...
"Goodbye to thee, Tubby, my favorite friend! Sudsy the best Bath Man AND News Man of our era, fare thy well, old chap! You as well, Mr. Kowalski of the meat pavilion! Lest I forget the Polish Prince, I hope your dreams come true, Stosh," heroically stated Turkey.
Tubby, Sudsy, Stosh "Auchey" Bolovski, and Mr. Kowalski waved goodbye and said.... "Goodbye Turkey! Godspeed!"
"Next to jolly Minnesota, mine glorious steed!" shouted Turkey....
They flew like great birds o'er the continental United States... then the White Wolf gracefully nose dived towards Minnesota!
"Goodbye kind wino of the big city!" graciously goodbyed Turkey.
The Big City Wino waved excitedly at him ... "Goodbye Turkey! Godspeed!"
The White Wolf re-ascended and then took to full speed as he transcended the Atlantic Ocean in seconds ...
"Sir Allistair! Sir Canard De L'Oie! May you fine outstanding men of the Over Seas fare thy selves well! I shall miss you dearly!" shouted Turkey from the air.
Sir Allistair and Canard De L'Oie waved goodbye to our Hero... "Goodbye Turkey! Au revoir! Godspeed!"
"Please, noble White Wolf, before we shall part, I must return to the Big Apple to say my goodbyes there!" politely asked Turkey to the flying wolf.
The White Wolf abided by the Hero's words and made a jet-line at blinding speed for the Big Apple! Turkey saw Luigi and his family outside the Pizza Shoppe.
"I never ate a better pizza in my life, Luigi! Thank you! I must be going now though, thanks again" Thanked Turkey.
Luigi, Maria, Giuseppe, Mario, Stella, Pia, and especially the little Sauce Man, Flavio, waved goodbye to Turkey .... "Ciao Turkey! See a ya later! Godspeed!"
The Wolf flew over Ebbets Field, the baseball players of both teams, one which had Sweet Stroke Samuels and the other which had Two Step Braunschewer... all eighteen baseball men waved goodbye to the soaring man on the White Wolf... and the fans roared like a lion!
The White Wolf flipped, somersaulted, and zig-zagged through the air o'er New York like a bumble bee! The next destination of this farewell tour was Madison Square Garden... once the fans saw the White Wolf soar into the arena like a gentle dove they broke out into uncontrollable applause! Humberto Huerta, El Diablo Jimenez, Hakmut of the Araby, Hollywood Donnie Dutchman Douglas, Hobo Shirley, Hobo Richards, Boxcar Lloyd, Beautiful Bonnie, Joyful Johnny... and the Baron looked up to the apex of the arena and applauded with the fans!
"Goodbye Turkey! Godspeed! Goodbye Turkey! Godspeed! Goodbye Turkey! Godspeed!" everyone shouted.
"...." said Turkey.
"What's the matter, Turkey?" asked the White Wolf of Winter.
"I grow weary of all these tearful goodbyes, gentle wolf, I think it is now high time I say.... Hello."
"I understand," solemnly stated the wolf.
The Wolf ascended higher and higher than he had ascended previously. Turkey could see the people of earth look smaller and smaller... until he could no longer see them at all. The clouds, the stars, the planets, all began to become smaller and smaller as well.... until he saw her.
"Is it really her?" Turkey asked the White Wolf.
"...it is." informed the wolf.
"It is... Her." said Turkey as he could see someone forming in front of his own eyes.
The wolf continued his ascent with Turkey... a woman reached out to greet them.
"....Hello," she said.
"...." said the wolf.
"Hello...............
...............................
....................................
........................................Gracie,
.............................................I missed you."
The End
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