| CharlesRichardSheetz-Books |
| Chap-1 Momma excerpts They got to the house just before dark. After putting the basket of corn in the corner they took two ears and shelled them for popping right then. Momma started a fire on the flat top pot bellied wood stove. The girls mouths were watering, they loved their popcorn treat. Momma was moving the wood around in the stove getting it to burn hotter with a steel poker and Tracy started barking like crazy in that old hoarse sounding bark of hers when someone was around. Helen went to the window and looked out and said, “Here comes Mooch, Alice and he looks drunk.” Momma left the steel poker in the fire, running to the door to make sure it was bolted. Just as she slid the blot shut, Mooch stepped up on the porch. As he got to the door Tracy got close to him growling and barking, the dog could sense he was there for no good. He yelled, “Shut the hell up and get outa here you old mangy flea bag” and kicked Tracy across the porch causing her to yelp in pain. He had finished destroying her old hips that old age had been working on all those years. When she landed she still tried to walk, but couldn’t get her rear legs to move. That kick had broken her hip joint. Tracy was mad and scared for the girls and got up on her front legs and started dragging her two useless legs behind her trying to get back at Mooch. She knew instantly that he was there to hurt them. Mooch tried the door latch, but the door wouldn’t open, it was locked. He banged on it saying, “Hey Alice, Helen its old Moochy. You got company, let me in. I got something for ya’ll”. He grabbed his crotch as he said this and snickered that insane laugh of his. Momma said “Mooch you get outa here, my Daddy and J.W. will kill you if they catch you here”. Mooch laughed again saying “ J.W. and you Daddy are over in Shoals getten drunk and I won’t tell them if you won’t, now open the door, I want some sugar”. As he laughed again saliva dripped from his mouth onto his bib overalls on his chest. Momma and Helen both yelled “Mooch you get outa here”. Giggling Mooch said again “open the damned door or I’ll break it in, I want some pun-tang and I want it now”. Neither girl knew what pun-tang or sugar meant, but his voice and actions let them know it wasn’t nice or good. Just then Mooch slammed his shoulder into the door, splintering the door frame. Both girls got up against the door to hold it shut, but Mooch was a man and pushed it open enough to get his head in. He started laughing that crazy laugh again and rolling his tongue out of his mouth and around his lips saying “pun-tang, pun-tang, pun-tang ole Mooch wants a taste of pun-tang”. Lust had consumed him and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He’d been watching the two young virgins for over a year and had all intentions of deflowering them both. Both girls were nearly scared out of their heads. Then Momma’s temper kicked into high gear and she got madder than hell. With a great effort they shoved the door closed for a second and Momma looked around for a weapon to protect them with. The only way Mooch was going to have his way with them was over her dead body. She then saw the steel poker she had left in the fire. She ran to it and grabbed it, at the same time Mooch shoved the door completely open knocking Helen to the floor. The girls had changed into old flower bags that they used as night gowns to sleep in. Helen was laying there her legs splayed open. Mooch entered the cabin, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her creamy white thighs as she lay on the floor, he approached her unbuttoning his overhauls and was pulling out his privates saying “I got something for you honey”. He took two steps towards Helen’s prone body. Momma went at him with that steel poker whose end was bright red from setting in the fire for so long and she said “I got something for you too, you little sawed off no good son of a bitch” and hit Mooch across the forehead above the right eye tearing off a chunk of hide and burning him at the same time. The blow knocked him silly. Mooch grabbed his head staggering backwards, screaming “You kilt me, you kilt me you dirty little slut”. By now Tracy had dragged herself to the rear of Mooch’s left leg and sank the last five or six teeth she still had left into it, holding on for dear life. Mooch screamed again turning around to see what had him. He then stomped poor Tracy who gave out a loud yelp. He had crushed her old brittle rib cage. She rolled away mortally injured. Momma then drew back and hit Mooch again with the poker in the back of the head behind the right ear, tearing it off and knocking him to his knees. His hair was burning in the injured spot and blood was pouring onto the floor landing next to where his ear was laying. He was bleeding from his forehead, the back of his head, the spot where his ear used to be and from his leg. He picked up his ear showing it to Momma and said “Look what you done to me girl” and started crawling towards the door. He wanted to get as far as he could from that hellion Alice Marie. He was mumbling out loud to himself, “You’ve kilt me and you done gone and ruint my looks, I don’t know how I’m a gonna get that ear back on.” He wasn’t moving fast enough for Momma, she ran up behind him and jammed that red hot poker into the crack of his ass, yelling “Get the hell outa here you sorry piece of shit and if you ever come back I’ll kill you for sure”. With that hot poker stuck in his ass Mooch hit his feet and went out the door like he was shot out of a cannon, screaming and yelling to the high heavens. He disappeared into the woods. They heard him yelling for some time and finally his yells grew fainter as he distanced himself from the cabin. |
Chap-2
School Records and first excerpts
Momma thought she had nipped my Criminal career in the bud, but
the following Christmas I strayed from the straight and narrow. She
had taken to watching me a lot closer and it seemed like every time I
turned around she was catching me doing something wrong. It was
like she had eyes in the back of her head, she didn’t miss anything. I’ll
have to say she must have been pretty smart. If she weren’t then it
would mean I must have been pretty dumb and I sure wouldn’t want to
say that about myself. She caught me playing with matches. It got me
blistered. Then she caught me across the street where I wasn’t
supposed to be, another whipping. It just seemed like I couldn’t win. I
was beginning to think that a black cloud was following me.
My Momma’s vocabulary is very colorful. Sometimes she would cuss a
blue streak as good as any sailor. So I picked up a few words that the
other kids didn’t use. One day in our back yard I was playing with the
next door neighbor kid, his name was Buster. He was Homer’s boy
and he had an airplane you could peddle and drive it around. I wanted
a turn to drive it and he wouldn’t let me. Well the apple’s mouth hadn’t
fallen very far from the apple tree’s mouth. I proceeded to tell him he
was a no good son of a bitch and a little bastard, at which time I
punched him right in the nose. The Sheetz’s answer to any problem a
little violence. He jumped out of the airplane crying and ran home to
tell his Mom. Unbeknownst to me, Old Eagle Eye was watching out the
kitchen window and came flying out of the house and spanked my
bottom good. She dragged me into the house and got a bottle of
Vinegar and forced about half the bottle down my throat, making me
almost vomit. She told me to never cuss again. She said “do you
promise”? I said “hell yes I promise”. She then poured the rest of the
bottle down my gullet and I did throw up the, feeling sicker than a dog
that had just eaten a bad turd. She screamed “I told you to stop
cussing do you hear me you dumb little bastard”? I finally got my
breath back and choked out “I promise Momma I won’t cuss again”. I
didn’t want anymore of that Vinegar or another whipping.
Christmas rolled around and the Sunday before Christmas the church
back behind our house always gave away bags of candy to the kids for
coming to church. Being the heathen that I was, I didn’t want to go to
church, but I wanted that candy. On the Sunday I am talking about I
waited until I heard the people in the church singing. Then I made my
move. Momma and Daddy always slept in late on Sundays so they
weren’t in the way. I slipped up to the church and entered through the
foyer’s double doors. The congregation was singing Onward Christian
Soldiers. In the corner was a very large brown box and it was full of
brown bags of candy. The coast was clear no one was around. I
scooped up as many bags as I could fill all my pockets in my pants and
the winter jacket I was wearing. I then bear hugged an arm load more
of the bags and staggered out the door into the snow heading for my
hide out under the porch to my house. The farther I got the heavier
the bags got and I started to drop them along the way. My greed was
leaving a trail that a blind man could follow. But being four years old I
wasn’t thinking of things like that. I was thinking only of the candy.
When I got to my hole in the wall I still had ten to twelve of them left. I
stashed them in the hole with the satisfaction that I’d pulled off the
perfect caper while Old Eagle Eye’s was asleep. I had enough candy
to last me for weeks. I heard her yelling at my Daddy, so I went into the
house singing Onward Christian Soldiers or at least my version of it
acting like a little angel.
About an hour later a group of grownups from the church foiled
another one of my crimes. There was a knock on the door, Daddy
answered it, I was with him. A Mr. Snotty talked for the group and he
said “brother I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, especially on
Christmas Sunday, but there’s a thief living amongst you”. Mr. Snotty
was a school teacher and he talked real proper grammar, it sailed
right over Daddy’s head. Daddy said “what in tarnation ur you talking
about Mister”? Mr. Snotty then told Daddy about the trail of little foot
prints and dropped bags of candy they had followed to our house in
the snow. Daddy stepped outside and looked at the trail they were
talking about. At that moment every eye in the group and all in my
family turned and settled on me. I tried my best to look innocent and
was getting ready to lie, but my Daddy started to taking off his belt. I
crumbled under the guilt and pressure and started to crying, spilling
my guts. I led them to the hole and crawled inside and gave back the
candy. Mr. Snotty tried to give one of them back to me, but Daddy
slapped my hand away and told them, I didn’t deserve one. When they
was out of ear shot Daddy gave me a good strapping with his belt and
told me he was ashamed of me. Those words hurt more than any
whipping. That was my last candy caper. I decided I wasn’t criminal
material at least pertaining to candy.
School Records and first excerpts
Momma thought she had nipped my Criminal career in the bud, but
the following Christmas I strayed from the straight and narrow. She
had taken to watching me a lot closer and it seemed like every time I
turned around she was catching me doing something wrong. It was
like she had eyes in the back of her head, she didn’t miss anything. I’ll
have to say she must have been pretty smart. If she weren’t then it
would mean I must have been pretty dumb and I sure wouldn’t want to
say that about myself. She caught me playing with matches. It got me
blistered. Then she caught me across the street where I wasn’t
supposed to be, another whipping. It just seemed like I couldn’t win. I
was beginning to think that a black cloud was following me.
My Momma’s vocabulary is very colorful. Sometimes she would cuss a
blue streak as good as any sailor. So I picked up a few words that the
other kids didn’t use. One day in our back yard I was playing with the
next door neighbor kid, his name was Buster. He was Homer’s boy
and he had an airplane you could peddle and drive it around. I wanted
a turn to drive it and he wouldn’t let me. Well the apple’s mouth hadn’t
fallen very far from the apple tree’s mouth. I proceeded to tell him he
was a no good son of a bitch and a little bastard, at which time I
punched him right in the nose. The Sheetz’s answer to any problem a
little violence. He jumped out of the airplane crying and ran home to
tell his Mom. Unbeknownst to me, Old Eagle Eye was watching out the
kitchen window and came flying out of the house and spanked my
bottom good. She dragged me into the house and got a bottle of
Vinegar and forced about half the bottle down my throat, making me
almost vomit. She told me to never cuss again. She said “do you
promise”? I said “hell yes I promise”. She then poured the rest of the
bottle down my gullet and I did throw up the, feeling sicker than a dog
that had just eaten a bad turd. She screamed “I told you to stop
cussing do you hear me you dumb little bastard”? I finally got my
breath back and choked out “I promise Momma I won’t cuss again”. I
didn’t want anymore of that Vinegar or another whipping.
Christmas rolled around and the Sunday before Christmas the church
back behind our house always gave away bags of candy to the kids for
coming to church. Being the heathen that I was, I didn’t want to go to
church, but I wanted that candy. On the Sunday I am talking about I
waited until I heard the people in the church singing. Then I made my
move. Momma and Daddy always slept in late on Sundays so they
weren’t in the way. I slipped up to the church and entered through the
foyer’s double doors. The congregation was singing Onward Christian
Soldiers. In the corner was a very large brown box and it was full of
brown bags of candy. The coast was clear no one was around. I
scooped up as many bags as I could fill all my pockets in my pants and
the winter jacket I was wearing. I then bear hugged an arm load more
of the bags and staggered out the door into the snow heading for my
hide out under the porch to my house. The farther I got the heavier
the bags got and I started to drop them along the way. My greed was
leaving a trail that a blind man could follow. But being four years old I
wasn’t thinking of things like that. I was thinking only of the candy.
When I got to my hole in the wall I still had ten to twelve of them left. I
stashed them in the hole with the satisfaction that I’d pulled off the
perfect caper while Old Eagle Eye’s was asleep. I had enough candy
to last me for weeks. I heard her yelling at my Daddy, so I went into the
house singing Onward Christian Soldiers or at least my version of it
acting like a little angel.
About an hour later a group of grownups from the church foiled
another one of my crimes. There was a knock on the door, Daddy
answered it, I was with him. A Mr. Snotty talked for the group and he
said “brother I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, especially on
Christmas Sunday, but there’s a thief living amongst you”. Mr. Snotty
was a school teacher and he talked real proper grammar, it sailed
right over Daddy’s head. Daddy said “what in tarnation ur you talking
about Mister”? Mr. Snotty then told Daddy about the trail of little foot
prints and dropped bags of candy they had followed to our house in
the snow. Daddy stepped outside and looked at the trail they were
talking about. At that moment every eye in the group and all in my
family turned and settled on me. I tried my best to look innocent and
was getting ready to lie, but my Daddy started to taking off his belt. I
crumbled under the guilt and pressure and started to crying, spilling
my guts. I led them to the hole and crawled inside and gave back the
candy. Mr. Snotty tried to give one of them back to me, but Daddy
slapped my hand away and told them, I didn’t deserve one. When they
was out of ear shot Daddy gave me a good strapping with his belt and
told me he was ashamed of me. Those words hurt more than any
whipping. That was my last candy caper. I decided I wasn’t criminal
material at least pertaining to candy.
| CharlesRichardSheetz-Books |
| 251-937-4836 |
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