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(TFT) I wake up with no idea

I wake up with no idea


   I wake up with no idea what day it is or what is next.  I don`t want to be
late for school so I go get my books, put them in my book bag and head to the
kitchen.  Everyone is already sitting down eating breakfast.  I put down my
bag and join them.  I`ve never been so hungry.  Mashed potatoes and gravy,
home fried chicken, string beans, it`s all so tasty.

     Munch, munch, munch.  I drink some milk.  ``This is a great idea.``  I
say.  ``Fried chicken for breakfast is awesome.``

  There is laughter from my siblings.  ``It`s dinner Mike.``  Everyone is
smiling at me.  ``You were asleep and we didn`t want to wake you.``  So I eat
quietly, and then go back to sleep.

   The next day sitting in math class, and the math teacher announces that she
is going to give all of us an `A.`  We all go to make a small act of
enthusiasm, but when I make my sound of cheering I feel funny.  Kinda cold.  I
come too laying on my back next to my desk.  I`m blinking and the teacher is
over me with the whole class gatherd around.

   ``David.  Are you all right David.``  I`m brought to the office by hand and
my mom is called.  On the way home I tell her about the machete and the
bathtub of blood.  She puts me to bed and I sleep.  Oh, and about the `A.`  I
still get it, but the next year I find out that I have been held back a year
in math.  This is quite startling to discover after a school year has started.
My new teacher calles me up to the head of the class after our first days
test.

   ``I have no idea why they put you in this class.  You scored 100% and some
of the questions are pre algebra which is not till next year. ``  She pauses
and searches my face for a moment.  ``I guess you can bring comic books or
something to read if you want.  Maybe help the other students sometimes.``
And thus begins my love affair with tutoring, Tin Tin, and Asterix.  But
that`s another story.

   I wake up the next day and Mark is sitting on the bottom bunk watching me.
I blink at him.  ``Hey.  What`s up?``

   ``Why.  Why did you have to cut yourself, with my machete.``

   I sit up.

   ``Mom`s thrown it away.``

   ``I have a new idea for a sword.``

   ``Really.``  He`s interested.  I get dressed.  We go out front to the scene
and the bamboo poles I cut and stripped are still there and ready to go.  We
take them over to the wash room.  I get the electrical tape off the shelf
overhead and lay them side by side on the top of the dryer.  I pull down the
hack saw and cut just outside a segment joint in the bamboo.  The cut being
this close to the end will prevent it from splitting or freying.  They poles
are laid in opposite directions so each end is one thick piece next to one
thin piece.  I tape one end together, the middle, then the other end.  The
last end I wrap up about 2 decimeters from the hilt.  It looks like a black
handled grip.  I put up the hack saw, electrical tape, and pull down the duct
tape.  The blae end I wrap from the hilt up with silver duct tape.

   Mark steps back into the carport and says ``Try it out on me.``  I move
forward and strike him in the arm with it.  The grip feels right.

   ``I`m waiting.`` Mark says.

   I swing hard.  Trying to break the weapon on his arm.  It barely moves him,
most of the force being absorbed by the springy design.  The hilt is shaped
right to hold onto the quivering weapon.

   ``well?  What are you waiting for.``

   A chuckle escapes me.  ``This works pretty well.``  I hand it to him.
``Here you try it.``  Mark beats himself over the upper arm for a bit.

   ``you can barely feel it.``  he says.

   I nod.  Satisfied that when I`m feeling better that we are back in business
I go back to bed.  By next weak Mark has already taught Darryl how to make
them and they have a selection of broadswords, long swords, and short swords.
Mark has even made guards.  Two single segements of bamboo tied and tapped
across the top of the hilt.  And these don`t break.  It even kinda looks like
a sword.

David Michael Grouchy II

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