Post by Bubba on Sept 4, 2015 21:57:04 GMT -5
“It’s good to be home…”
This one thought more than any other lingers in Bubba’s head. As his truck winds up the long dusty driveway Bubba adjusts his posture for what seems like the hundredth time, feeling little twinges of pain he is sure the medic after the match missed more than a couple thumb tacks in his back. Shaking his head slightly to clear the cobwebs Bubba pulls his truck to a stop in front of the dilapidated garage, the amount of moss and vines growing on and around the structure far exceeds the amount of metal and concrete used to make it. After exciting his now cramped and uncomfortable truck he is assaulted by a pair of strong yet slender arms being wrapped around his torso from behind. Wincing in pain lessens the grip around him and a youthful thickly accented voice apologizes before Bubba can turn around.
“Sorry pa I didn’t mean to squeeze so hard. I’m just glad you’re home!”
Turning Bubba now stands nearly face to face with his 15 year old son Gabriel, standing nearly a foot taller than his boy Bubba ruffles his son’s hair and gives him a playful shove.
“You didn’t hurt me! You can’t hurt steel boy, you should know that by now!”
“Well if that were true than what is Judge made of? Cause it sure looked like he did quite a number on ya…”
Looking confident the youthful timbre of Gabriel’s voice could not hide his worry over the punishment his redneck father took.
“Judge…that paper champ ain’t made of nothing but soft stuff and hot air, besides he had a whole heap of help in takin me down! Let’s not talk about this right now, I just wanna relax and take it easy for a while.”
Walking into the now familiar blue rundown house Bubba sits at the edge of the couch in the living room, as he slowly sits back a voice calls from the kitchen area.
“DON’T YOU LEAN BACK YET! YOU’RE BLEEDING!”
Heaving a great sigh Bubba stands and walks into the kitchen where he finds his grandmother standing with a gauze pad smeared with some brownish gel. Tapping her toe she shakes her head and walks over to Bubba and taking him by the arm she leads him to the kitchen table where she sits him down and after taking his blood stained wife beater off she lays the gel covered gauze pad on his ravaged back.
“This poultice was handed down for generations…”
Looking back with a panicked look on his face Bubba exclaims.
“I hope you mean the recipe for that poultice and not the poultice itself…”
Hrumphing loudly Bubba’s grandmother slaps him on the back sharply claiming the gel in the poultice needs a shock to activate. Breathing deeply Bubba smiles at his grandmother’s moxie as well as simply loving the familiar smells of the Reece homestead. Rising to his feet Bubba slowly makes his way down the home’s small hallway, turning into his old room he glides down onto his old bed where he drifts off to sleep wondering if the bells going off in his head where real or simply memories from his last match.
“It sure is good to be home…”
This one thought more than any other lingers in Bubba’s head. As his truck winds up the long dusty driveway Bubba adjusts his posture for what seems like the hundredth time, feeling little twinges of pain he is sure the medic after the match missed more than a couple thumb tacks in his back. Shaking his head slightly to clear the cobwebs Bubba pulls his truck to a stop in front of the dilapidated garage, the amount of moss and vines growing on and around the structure far exceeds the amount of metal and concrete used to make it. After exciting his now cramped and uncomfortable truck he is assaulted by a pair of strong yet slender arms being wrapped around his torso from behind. Wincing in pain lessens the grip around him and a youthful thickly accented voice apologizes before Bubba can turn around.
“Sorry pa I didn’t mean to squeeze so hard. I’m just glad you’re home!”
Turning Bubba now stands nearly face to face with his 15 year old son Gabriel, standing nearly a foot taller than his boy Bubba ruffles his son’s hair and gives him a playful shove.
“You didn’t hurt me! You can’t hurt steel boy, you should know that by now!”
“Well if that were true than what is Judge made of? Cause it sure looked like he did quite a number on ya…”
Looking confident the youthful timbre of Gabriel’s voice could not hide his worry over the punishment his redneck father took.
“Judge…that paper champ ain’t made of nothing but soft stuff and hot air, besides he had a whole heap of help in takin me down! Let’s not talk about this right now, I just wanna relax and take it easy for a while.”
Walking into the now familiar blue rundown house Bubba sits at the edge of the couch in the living room, as he slowly sits back a voice calls from the kitchen area.
“DON’T YOU LEAN BACK YET! YOU’RE BLEEDING!”
Heaving a great sigh Bubba stands and walks into the kitchen where he finds his grandmother standing with a gauze pad smeared with some brownish gel. Tapping her toe she shakes her head and walks over to Bubba and taking him by the arm she leads him to the kitchen table where she sits him down and after taking his blood stained wife beater off she lays the gel covered gauze pad on his ravaged back.
“This poultice was handed down for generations…”
Looking back with a panicked look on his face Bubba exclaims.
“I hope you mean the recipe for that poultice and not the poultice itself…”
Hrumphing loudly Bubba’s grandmother slaps him on the back sharply claiming the gel in the poultice needs a shock to activate. Breathing deeply Bubba smiles at his grandmother’s moxie as well as simply loving the familiar smells of the Reece homestead. Rising to his feet Bubba slowly makes his way down the home’s small hallway, turning into his old room he glides down onto his old bed where he drifts off to sleep wondering if the bells going off in his head where real or simply memories from his last match.
“It sure is good to be home…”
