Chain Dogged

Ricky stopped me at the local 66 station late one afternoon to tell me about the job opportunity. A trucker needed help dropping a load of fiberglass pipe out in The Breaks. He told me how much we'd be paid but I didn't really care about that as much as getting to spend some time in a place I enjoyed being with someone I enjoyed being with. So I hopped right into his car and off we went.

Following the trucker, we zoomed along talking and laughing the way we always did when we spent time together. Shadows were already lengthening, casting a forlorn spookiness over the broken prairie land.

Over eager to get the job done so we could relax and enjoy sunset in The Breaks, I immediately scrambled atop the pipe stack and began loosening chain dogs. One of them was especially tight and when it snapped open it caught me off balance.

Hurled backwards off of the stack of pipe, I landed with a thud on the dry red ground, kicking up a puff of dust around every edge of my body. Ricky and the trucker rushed over to see what damage had been done.

Only the breath had been knocked out of me, which I recovered quickly, sprang to my feet, dusted off and declared I was ready to finish the job before sunset. Ricky and the trucker shook their heads in unison.

We finished quicker than expected by all, including me. I had no aches or pains of any kind, then or after. Pure dumb luck, maybe, but I might have instinctively slapped the ground with arms and legs to distribute impact. I never spoke about the incident again with Ricky over the years the times we were able to visit. I recall worrying then as we watched the trucker drive away that he might not want to be around such an idiot ever again.

Fortunately, the fear was baseless.

On the ride back to town I don't remember Ricky even bringing up anything about it. We chatted about having a little extra money to spend and other unrelated things then parted ways.

Even over the years, Ricky never brought up the incident, which I thought was kind of him. Now, entering into final decades of life, it seems more amusing than embarrassing.