Captain Wallace A. Dickie, a veteran of the Revolutionary War, planted the very first apple trees. Local legend has it that the spirit of the Old Dickie himself tends to the orchard. This came about because generations of Dickies that followed were nothing more than drunkards and dimwits. That lot could hardly be responsible for the sweetest, most bountiful apple crops in the entire state of West Virginia. In fact, the only thing that the old man and the current proprietors, great-grandsons Viran and Chester, have in common is a varmint that has routinely attacked the orchards chicken coop for as long as any living Dickie can remember—a red fox.
Obviously, it’s not the same red fox that Old Wallace pursued in his day but every Dickie is convinced the current nemesis is from the same den. Considering it’s probably a good idea to be sober when trapping any animal—especially a crafty fox, it’s no wonder the score is Red Fox: 126, Dickies: 0.
This days’ trip to the chicken coop was no different for Chester. He could tell from within 10 paces of the coop that the red enemy had been there. Blood and feathers were stuck to the wire fence and a trail of the same led into the nearby woods.
Then he saw it.
There was a flurry of grass and feathers floating up to the heavens. Chester threw down his pail and grabbed a nearby pitchfork. He ran towards the commotion.
“I got you now, you damn bastard! You ain’t getting away today, no sirree!”
He grinned as he raised the pitchfork above his head ready for the slaughter. Down came the pitchfork!
Viran howled like a pig being prepped for a backyard roast.
Chester saw the bright red shirt—bright red from newly spilled blood—and pulled the pitchfork from out of his brother’s back.
“Viran! What the hell are you doing out here? I thought you were sleeping off that ton of whiskey you done drank for breakfast!”
“You stuck me with a pitchfork? You damn fool! I was chasin’ that dang fox, he got into the coop again!”
Viran tried to get up but the ton of whiskey and the gaping forked wound in his back kept him down.
Little did either of them know, just three yards away the elusive red fox had been watching the entire chaotic exchange between brothers and was quite amused.
Legend smegend.
It doesn’t take a fox to outwit a dumb Dickie.
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Copyright 2010 by Janet Cipolli. All rights reserved.
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