Life Clip Number Three: Beer and Deer

This "Life Clip" took place back when my brother, Steve, and I were both in our youth. Back when we weren't as smart as we thought we were. To put it as plainly as I can, youths do dumb things and this was one of them. Hoodlums? Well, not in everyday life. Let's just say what our foster mother's mother would have said if she had found out about it. "Sowing wild oats."

Cold, snowy December nights did not deter neither my brother nor me from going to grange hall dances. This particular Saturday night my favorite band, The Public Eye, who could make Bad Moon Rising sound the same as CCR, or at least I thought they could, was playing. I also knew everyone in the ensemble since we all attended the same high school.

Steve and I jumped into the little red Ford and, even though my brother owned the vehicle, I drove the ice covered roads to the grange. We arrived shortly after nine o'clock when the band was into their second or third song. I don't know where my brother headed off to, but I focused on finding a girl to dance with. One girl I had a crush on, but never had the nerve to tell her how I felt before she moved away, stood on the other side of the dance floor. Seeing her there surprised me. I was defiantly going to ask her to dance. I crossed over to her.

"Hi Rick," she said when I was within earshot. "You going to ask me to dance?"

"Sure," I said and whisked her out among the whirling couples. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd come by and see if some of my old classmates from Riverside were here."

I can't remember what all we talked about but I learned her family moved into Spokane. In our conversation she never said anything to make me think she wanted to be more than just friends. Years later I learned she was a lesbian, but that has nothing to do with this story.

I danced with several other girls and probably snapped with a few bra straps. As I said, I was young and not too bright, especially when it came to young women.

Intermission came and my brother appeared from somewhere. "Come on," he said. "We're going on a beer run."

"Can't you do that without me?" I asked, glancing around at all the girls I had--and hadn't--danced with.

"I want you to drive."

"Well, I guess." I reluctantly followed him out to the little red Ford.

Neither my brother nor I were old enough to buy beer in the state of Washington, but at that time Idaho had a younger drinking age. So we headed for Blanchard, Idaho. In order to get there we had to go over a small pass that consisted of several curves. We had no problem getting there. I sat in the pickup while my brother went in to buy the beer.

Ten minutes passed. I couldn't figure out what was taking him so long. Five minutes should have been plenty of time. Fifteen more minutes gone. The cold became unbearable. I fired the truck up and turned the heater to high, something I did not want to do since that meant burning gas, but I figured he would be out in a matter of minutes. The vehicle warmed up but still no brother. I shut the engine off.

Thirty more minutes elapsed. I didn't need the heater any more. I was too hot under the collar for that. I would have gone into the bar, but I was underage and figured they would chase me out before I got one step inside. Fifteen minutes more. I couldn't sit there any longer so I decided to go see what was happening.

I took two steps into the bar and a barmaid asked, "Would you like a beer?"

I nearly fell over since she didn't run me out. I told her, "No." I looked about to find my brother. There he was. Playing pool. Steam burst out of my ears. I sat out in the pickup over an hour while he knocked a bunch of stupid balls around? I stormed over to him. "We've got to go," I said.

"Just sit down for a bit," he said.

"The dance will be over before we get back."

"There's plenty of time so go sit your ass down and relax. I'm almost done here."

That didn't endear me to my brother, but I sat down. He was right. A couple more shots and the game was over. We both grabbed a case of beer, marched out the door and slipped them behind the pickup's seat.

I got behind the wheel, still mad as hell, and headed down the road. My brother didn't say a word, probably because I was driving too fast for the conditions. As we neared the first curve a deer jump in front of us. Dumb thing stopped in the middle of our lane. Stood and stared at us. I whipped the pickup into the ditch. Held the gas steady. Missed a telephone pole by six inches. Pulled back onto the road on the other side of the deer and drove on as if nothing had happened, although at a reasonable speed. It had taken most of the anger out of me.

My brother didn't say anything for a few minutes, then said, "I'm glad you're driving. I would have stopped in the ditch."

"Yeah, and we would have been stuck. Just what we needed if a cop came along. Stuck with two cases of beer behind the seat and both of us underage." We had crossed over into Washington by that time.

"Wouldn't have been good," my brother said.

Why I even thought a policeman would come along was somewhat bizarre since I had never seen one on that road. Matter of fact, we would have probably sat there the rest of the night before seeing anyone.

By the time we got back to the grange the band was loading up their equipment. A few people lingered, but most were gone. My brother and I gave the beer to the band and went home.

I can't tell you if we ever went on another beer run. If we did, I don't remember doing so. It was not a smart thing to do and giving the beer to the band was equally stupid. We were lucky none of the them got caught--although back in those days there wasn't as much emphasis placed on underage drinking. Still, we could have found ourselves in some pretty hot water.

Don't miss the first two life clips:
Life Clip Number One: Rubbernecking is Not a Good Idea
Life Clip Number Two: The Scare from the Hood