Tinkletoes Does It With His Boots On

“You have rules? For being a guy?” Carp asks.

“Sure. Doesn't everyone?” Tinkletoes answers.

Carp looks at Mr. Donut. Mr. Donut looks at Carp.

Looking back at Tinkletoes, “So what are these rules?” Carp asks.

“Daylight's a burnin'.” Tinkletoes answers.

Carp and Mr. Donut wait.

“We don't have time for this.”

Silence.

“I'll give you a couple while Mr. Donut throws the knife some more. Then we're moving on to the guns.”

Carp and Mr. Donut nod. Pulling another combat knife out of it's sheath Tinkletoes hands it to Mr. Donut. “Take your time, aim.” He instructs.

“Rule One. If you kill it you gotta eat it.”

Mr. Donut throws the knife. It gets lodged in the spot aimed for but only momentarily falling from the trunk seconds later.

“That was good Sweets. Try it again. This time put a little more power into the throw.” Tinkletoes says.

Mr. Donut throws again. This time the knife stays put.

“Rule Two. Be good to your mom. She pushed you out. That shit hurts.” Tinkletoes continues. “No one suffered like my mom but you get the idea.” He takes another knife out of its sheath and hands it to Mr. Donut.

“You are a big man.” Mr. Donut agrees.

“Big baby too.” Tinkletoes says. “The worst part.” He says, unsheathing another knife, Tinkletoes takes the point of the blade and pokes it into the sole of one of his combat booted feet. “I was born wearing boots. Steel toe. The woman never could quite hold her bladder after that.”

Mr. Donut listen intently. Nodding the entire time.

Carp hides his face in his hands.

“Rule Three. Women are the enemy. Never tell them your plans, show them your weaknesses or talk about your feelings. They will use it against you every day for the rest of your life.”

“Doesn't that contradict with rule number two?” Carp asks.

“Mom's not a woman.” Tinkletoes says handing his last knife to Mr. Donut. “I don't know what you're talking about sometimes Carp.”

Mr. Donut throws.

“Perfect.” Tinkletoes says, taking a handgun out of his bag. “This is a handgun. It's a semi-automatic...”

“What else do you have in the bag?” Mr. Donut asks pointing to the bag between them. “Rifles? I'd like to try an M-16. How about an Uzi? Do you have one of those?”

Looking at Tinkletoes, Carp says, “He seemed so quiet at first.”

“This is a semi-automatic.” Tinkletoes continues.

“Hi.” Mr. Morely says coming over from his backyard to where Mr. Donut, Carp and Tinkletoes are standing.

“Hi Mo. Long time no see.” Mr. Donut says.

“Two years. What are you two gentlemen doing today?” Mr. Morely asks.

“This is my new friend Tinkletoes. We're doing Guy Things.” Mr. Donut whispers. “He's got guns, knives and live ammo. It's the Fourth of July. We're making some noise.”

“Really?” Mr. Morely asks, his eyes lighting up.

Mr. Donut nods.

“That does sound fun. Can I play too?” He asks.

“These are live weapons men. We aren't playing around. These are real skills I'm teaching. Survival skills.” Tinkletoes says.

Mr. Donut nods in agreement. “He already taught me how to throw a knife. Brained a squirrel too.” He shares proudly.

“That's pretty nifty if I do say so myself.” Mr. Morely says. “Pret-ty Nif-ty. So may I?” Mr. Morely asks gesturing to the weapons.

Tinkletoes and Carp exchange glances.

“Sure. You can have a turn.” Tinkletoes says.

“I'm going to get changed and call the guys.” Mr. Morely says. “I'll be right back.” He turns around and shuffles back into his house.

“I get all the turns until you get back. So don't hurry.” Mr. Donut says. “No girls allowed!” He calls. “This is man stuff.” Mr. Donut smiles giving Tinkletoes and Carp a wink.

Guiding Carp a few steps away from Mr. Donut, “What just happened here?” Tinkletoes asks.

“I think we just became the chaperones for this town's first ever survival camp for old farts.” Carp says.

Tinkletoes looks at Carp waiting for more information.

“The old men are having a play date. We just got drafted to supervise.” Carp explains again.

A light dawns and Tinkletoes' smile fades.

“But I was gonna...” Tinkletoes says.

“Not anymore.” Carp answers.

“I wanted to...”

“You can't now.”

“What about?” Tinkletoes asks.

“Not gonna happen.” Carp says.

“It's the Fourth of July. It's my Fourth of July.” Tinkletoes points out.

Carp shakes his head.

“Well crap.” Tinkletoes says hanging his head.

“Don't worry Tink.” Carp says patting Tinkletoes on the back, “You'll get 'em next time.”

Turning back around the self-proclaimed mercenary and the assassin in training find Mr. Donut gazing adoringly at an Uzi which is laying across the palms of the 94 year old man's hands. His eyes open wide, face alight with excitement.  He is wearing a huge grin.

“I knew you had an Uzi.” Mr. Donut beams. “I just knew it.”

Tinkletoes and Carp both pale.

“I do.” Tinkletoes says.

Carp leans over to Tinkletoes and whispers, “That isn't loaded is it?”

“It is.”

“Oh no.”

“It's a reconditioned unit I got from a friend. It had too much of a hair trigger for the previous owner. My friend tried to fix it but...”

“He couldn't?”

“So he sold it to me. Because I'm so good with guns. He knew it would be safe with me.” Tinkletoes finishes.

“I know I feel safe right now.” Carp says.

Tinkletoes glares at Carp.

“Sweets, let me tell you a little bit about this gun.” Tinkletoes calls approaching Mr. Donut.

“Pow. Pow. Pow!” Mr. Donut says pointing the Uzi to the tree on the other side of Writer Lady's yard.

Making up the distance Tinkletoes walks around Mr. Donut to come up behind the old man. Covering Mr. Donut's hands with his own he starts teaching him about Uzis. What's different about them. What is dangerous about them.

“Sweets!” Several men call from the farthest reaches of the backyard. Turning to look at them everything moves to the south including the firing end of the Uzi, Mr. Donut accidentally hits the trigger. A rain of bullets can be heard tearing through metal. Everyone ducks.

“Let go of the gun.” Tinkletoes yells over the noise. He and Mr. Donut let go and the gun falls to the ground.

Everyone stares in stunned silence at what used to be Writer Lady's shed.