Sweetpea

By Glenn Ball

Just wanted to say Hats Off to Bill Greger for putting together a great ARC of Tri-Ciies event, however it will be remembered by me for years to come for another reason. You see, I encountered the DEVIL July the 20th, 2001 and his name was SWEETPEA!!!

I arrived at the ARC event with a heart full of good intentions. Thought I would get in a few flights on my Cub before getting ready for the kids to arrive. Had an uneventful flight and enjoyed some company from my fellow flyers. While taking off on my next flight I made a very familiar mistake for me, the engine sagged as the Cub was rolling, instead of aborting the take off I stuck with it and stalled the airplane. Anyone who has ever flown a Cub knows the sight of a Cub cart wheeling across the runway. Picked up my pride and my broken Cub and cleared the runway of the debris.

Well, maybe it was time to get ready anyway, I was in charge of the popcorn detail for the event, a job I didn't take lightly. With some much needed and appreciated help I got ready fairly quickly. Bill was going to be happy!!.

A short time later Bill arrived. He approached me. I stood tall ready to receive his praise. He walked up and told me he had a new mission for me. The person in charge of bringing the petting zoo animals had arrived, but minus the animals! Bill requested I follow the person to Kennewick and truck back the critters in question. I thought, "How hard can that be?"

At about this time I noticed a cold chill run down my neck, the wind seemed to change direction. I could feel waives of bad Mojo wash over me. I blew it off thinking I just had a case of gas. Well, I followed the keeper of the animals and her significant other off to Kennewick.

I was torn between calling Bill back up and telling him I lost them in traffic. Instead I parked my truck and asked them if they needed help loading the animals. I was advised they would be right back and to wait at the truck.

They disappeared into the back yard. It seemed forever but it was probably only a few minutes later that I heard a hideous sound. It was hard to describe. It was the sound of some person or thing or even a creature not yet known to man being tortured. It was a deafening scream. My blood chilled. Not knowing what to do, I waited. Then I saw it. It was beyond words. I knew instantly whatever it was didn't like me, and just as sure I didn't like it. She was walking behind it and poking it with some type of stick or what appeared to be a satanic pitch fork. She called it by name, she called it SweetPea. I felt my stomach turn. I was informed that SweetPea along with a chicken coop containing three Bante Red Roosters would be my companions back to the field. I wondered if it was too late to give myself to the Lord. Surly this oddity called Sweetpea was the spawn of Satan himself.

Well, I started out for the field with my load, I felt like Satan’s version of Noah’s Ark. I started to smell fear. No wait...it was just SweetPea using the bed of my truck as a port-a- potty. I continued to the field praying I would make it.

While on Highway 240 just east of the Edison exit I felt my truck start to rock. I looked in my rear view mirror and there it was...Sweetpea standing half onto the side rails of my truck bed. He screamed that blood curdling noise. He seemed to be working himself into some kind of rage. What had I done to provoke this? This is when it happened. That devil pig stood up and pushed the chicken coop over the side of my pickup. I felt sick. Traffic was terrible. The chicken coop with it's three victims on board somersaulted down the freeway. On one particular high bounce I saw one of the chickens ejected from the cage. A fraction of a second later this poor unfortunate foul was no more. It impacted dead center of the vehicle directly behind me, there was a thump, a red mist, then nothing.

I started to go into shock. What would I do? The chicken coop had come to rest right in the middle of the road. I swear I heard Sweetpea laughing. I stopped the truck and ran back the 50 or so yards to assist any surviving foul. There was one chicken still alive in the coop. I witnessed several near miss accidents as traffic attempted to avoid the hazard. I grabbed the coop and just when I thought things were starting to get under control the remaining chicken escaped. I chased the little gutter snipe down the shoulder of the highway. I felt myself wishing the chicken back out into the heat of traffic to end his and my misery. Instead I caught it and managed to get it back to the truck.

Then the keeper of the critter drove up. I felt like I was telling a next of Kin of the loss of a love one. I told her she was two chickens shy of a full load. Then the strangest thing happened. She looked at Sweetpea and smiled. Had this all been planned from the beginning? She jumped in the back of my truck to try to calm Sweetpea. Am I the only one that finds that strange? Well the end of this story is SweetPea and the surviving foul arrived at the field.

I’m going to make myself a mixed drink and try to forget. Satan was here and his Name was Sweetpea.

This page last updated 09/15/01 23:13