A humorous homage to John Lee Hooker

Flash Prompt: One bourbon, one scotch, one beer    WC: 249      Dianna Hatfield Clemenson

Note:  The Lake Havasu City Writer’s Group requires two original pieces a month.  One is a 250 word count that uses the “prompt” selected for the month.  The other is a 1000 word count, the topic is writer’s choice. This piece is from the March 3, 2018 meeting.

An Ode to John Lee Hooker, Master Bluesman

“That dang turban is getting on my last flippin’ nerve.” Malik grumbled under his breath.  Ravi had recently decided that he was Sikh. A school assignment led him to discover that his great, great grandfather was from Punjab. From that fact he jumped to the conclusion that his family heritage was Sikhism.

Malik hoped this father-son hunting trip could do some good, what exactly, he wasn’t sure.  Maybe the kid needed more of his old man’s attention. He seemed to like the gun safety class and trips to the shooting range.  That first early morning in the deer stand went pretty good, too. Maybe if he feels like he’s good at somethin’ it might help his self-esteem and stop all the acting-out.  All he could at the moment is hope for a successful bag.

Finally, Malik spied the buck and silently pointed to him. He motioned for his son to be steady, take a deep breath and aim.

How in the heck did the boy manage to jam the rifle?  Unbelievable!

The buck looked up and Malik quickly took a shot. The buck fell.

Climbing down the stand the father strained not to yell at the boy. Don’t undo everything you’re aiming for, he thought as he gritted teeth.  The two traipsed through the brush and slowly approached the animal. It was a clean shot and the deer was dead. A favorite tune echoed in Malik’s mind.

Well, what do you know?  One turban, one botch and one deer.

 

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