LET’S RASSLE, MR. PRESIDENT
a/k/a More Than A Streak of Lavender
Part 3 of 5
Squeezed together in the small bed, about forty-five minutes passed when the President began muttering in his sleep. Suddenly, he let out a loud yell. His arm swung around and across Captain Derickson’s face connecting with blunt force. The President’s body began thrashing about immediately plunging the Captain out of bed. Derickson sprang to his feet as the President came out of his tortured sleep. Lincoln’s eyes grew enormous as he realized he had struck the Captain.
Before Captain Derickson could say anything, Lincoln bounded from the bed and through the door. The Captain followed him outside the cottage. He saw Lincoln had run a good distance but was now standing motionless with his back to him, lit by the full moon. Derickson went inside, grabbed the blanket from the bed and walked cautiously towards the President.
He placed the blanket around Lincoln’s back and shoulders. The President hardly noticed. He just kept gazing out over the endless stretch of calm field with a mournful look on his face. Concerned, the Captain began to massage his shoulders. He said, “Sir, let me try to warm you up. This air’s biting and you don’t wanna catch cold.” The President nervously glanced back over his shoulder. He leaned tentatively into the Captain’s strong hands as the Captain energetically kneaded the knots in his tight muscles.
The President glanced back again to look at the Captain’s face. “I put a welt beside your eye, Captain. I’m truly sorry for that. Please accept my apology.”
The Captain chuckled. “Sir, it was an accident. It’s nothin serious.” There was a slight pause and then he added. “The next one, though, I’ll respond in kind.”
The President’s eyes widened as he turned fully around. When the Captain winked playfully at him, the President smiled.
“Captain, you indeed have my permission to retaliate.” “However which way you see fit.” They both laughed.
The Captain said, “Thank you, sir. I certainly intend to do just that.” They laughed again.
Whatever enormous mental anxiety the President was experiencing was passing.
The Captain began massaging the President’s shoulders again. “Sir, I bet you put your share of welts on your wrestling opponents in Springfield back in the day.
The President was quiet for a moment and then said, “That I did, Captain. That I did. Some put welts on me too, but that was all in the nature of it. Those were golden days for me.”
The President turned to the Captain taking the blanket off in one swift movement and dropped it casually on the ground. He rotated his shoulders indicating that he was relaxed and grateful for the Captain’s kind gesture. As the two men stood there in their nightshirts a breeze brought an additional calm to the scene. The former stiff formality between them had fallen away. Anyone approaching might have regarded them as equals in stance and body language.
The President hesitated and then asked the Captain in a new and familiar tone, “Since you brought it up, you ever done any rasslin?
Captain Derickson puffed out his chest and replied eagerly, “Hell, yes, I have. Regular and often. Whenever I come across someone willin to tussle I leap at the opportunity. Win most of the time too.”
“Is that so?” The President was delighted to hear this. “Somehow I didn’t think of you as bein partial to the sport.”
Captain Derickson was slightly offended by the remark but quickly recovered. He sensed he was being baited and decided to bait this straight-talkin man right back.
“I live to fight.” “I reckon I enjoy it more than anything, truth to tell.” More than ANYTHING.
The President looked directly into his eyes, hesitated, and then said with utmost seriousness. “As do I, Captain.” “As do I.”
In an instant, a feeling of anticipation sprang up between them. Both had been in this situation before. What usually occurred is that one man issued a challenge and the other man accepted. Simple as that. It was obvious that each man was receptive to the idea. They silently sized each other up.
Lincoln towered over Derickson by a good five inches. But Derickson was confident in his compact, muscular physique. It would be an interesting contest. Derickson licked his lips at the prospect.
The Captain, anxious to break the suspense, said, relishing every word as he said it while drawing each and every phrase out, “I’ll take on ANY man. No matter WHO or WHAT he is. Makes no never mind to me. Time and place makes no difference to me either. Anytime. Anyplace. AND ANYONE.
There it was. Out in the open and as clear as he could make it. With his words still lingering in the air, the Captain strutted a pace or two. He began swinging his arms, limbering up his muscles, all the while staring at the President. His eyebrows raised askance daring the President to respond.
The President, rising to the bravado of the younger man, adjusted his neck in a quick side by side motion followed by a quick nod forward and then a quick tilt backward. He smiled slyly at the youthful Captain. He also began walking back and forth, his hands clenching and unclenching.
“Well, as you’re aimin all that youthful cockiness at me…right here…right now…consider me your very eager and willing opponent.
In a calm but deliberate manner he then crossed to the Captain. “I accept your challenge.”
The Captain flashed a toothy grin, already anticipating victory. “HELL, YEAH! LET’S RASSLE MR. PRESIDENT!”
tuffchap (1)
2020-11-07 23:35LET’S RASSLE, MR. PRESIDENT
a/k/a More Than A Streak of Lavender
Part 3 of 5
Squeezed together in the small bed, about forty-five minutes passed when the President began muttering in his sleep. Suddenly, he let out a loud yell. His arm swung around and across Captain Derickson’s face connecting with blunt force. The President’s body began thrashing about immediately plunging the Captain out of bed. Derickson sprang to his feet as the President came out of his tortured sleep. Lincoln’s eyes grew enormous as he realized he had struck the Captain.
Before Captain Derickson could say anything, Lincoln bounded from the bed and through the door. The Captain followed him outside the cottage. He saw Lincoln had run a good distance but was now standing motionless with his back to him, lit by the full moon. Derickson went inside, grabbed the blanket from the bed and walked cautiously towards the President.
He placed the blanket around Lincoln’s back and shoulders. The President hardly noticed. He just kept gazing out over the endless stretch of calm field with a mournful look on his face. Concerned, the Captain began to massage his shoulders. He said, “Sir, let me try to warm you up. This air’s biting and you don’t wanna catch cold.” The President nervously glanced back over his shoulder. He leaned tentatively into the Captain’s strong hands as the Captain energetically kneaded the knots in his tight muscles.
The President glanced back again to look at the Captain’s face. “I put a welt beside your eye, Captain. I’m truly sorry for that. Please accept my apology.”
The Captain chuckled. “Sir, it was an accident. It’s nothin serious.” There was a slight pause and then he added. “The next one, though, I’ll respond in kind.”
The President’s eyes widened as he turned fully around. When the Captain winked playfully at him, the President smiled.
“Captain, you indeed have my permission to retaliate.” “However which way you see fit.” They both laughed.
The Captain said, “Thank you, sir. I certainly intend to do just that.” They laughed again.
Whatever enormous mental anxiety the President was experiencing was passing.
The Captain began massaging the President’s shoulders again. “Sir, I bet you put your share of welts on your wrestling opponents in Springfield back in the day.
The President was quiet for a moment and then said, “That I did, Captain. That I did. Some put welts on me too, but that was all in the nature of it. Those were golden days for me.”
The President turned to the Captain taking the blanket off in one swift movement and dropped it casually on the ground. He rotated his shoulders indicating that he was relaxed and grateful for the Captain’s kind gesture. As the two men stood there in their nightshirts a breeze brought an additional calm to the scene. The former stiff formality between them had fallen away. Anyone approaching might have regarded them as equals in stance and body language.
The President hesitated and then asked the Captain in a new and familiar tone, “Since you brought it up, you ever done any rasslin?
Captain Derickson puffed out his chest and replied eagerly, “Hell, yes, I have. Regular and often. Whenever I come across someone willin to tussle I leap at the opportunity. Win most of the time too.”
“Is that so?” The President was delighted to hear this. “Somehow I didn’t think of you as bein partial to the sport.”
Captain Derickson was slightly offended by the remark but quickly recovered. He sensed he was being baited and decided to bait this straight-talkin man right back.
“I live to fight.” “I reckon I enjoy it more than anything, truth to tell.” More than ANYTHING.
The President looked directly into his eyes, hesitated, and then said with utmost seriousness. “As do I, Captain.” “As do I.”
In an instant, a feeling of anticipation sprang up between them. Both had been in this situation before. What usually occurred is that one man issued a challenge and the other man accepted. Simple as that. It was obvious that each man was receptive to the idea. They silently sized each other up.
Lincoln towered over Derickson by a good five inches. But Derickson was confident in his compact, muscular physique. It would be an interesting contest. Derickson licked his lips at the prospect.
The Captain, anxious to break the suspense, said, relishing every word as he said it while drawing each and every phrase out, “I’ll take on ANY man. No matter WHO or WHAT he is. Makes no never mind to me. Time and place makes no difference to me either. Anytime. Anyplace. AND ANYONE.
There it was. Out in the open and as clear as he could make it. With his words still lingering in the air, the Captain strutted a pace or two. He began swinging his arms, limbering up his muscles, all the while staring at the President. His eyebrows raised askance daring the President to respond.
The President, rising to the bravado of the younger man, adjusted his neck in a quick side by side motion followed by a quick nod forward and then a quick tilt backward. He smiled slyly at the youthful Captain. He also began walking back and forth, his hands clenching and unclenching.
“Well, as you’re aimin all that youthful cockiness at me…right here…right now…consider me your very eager and willing opponent.
In a calm but deliberate manner he then crossed to the Captain. “I accept your challenge.”
The Captain flashed a toothy grin, already anticipating victory. “HELL, YEAH! LET’S RASSLE MR. PRESIDENT!”