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Tim's Short Story
Note to reader:
This is a fictional story Tim wrote before his death in 1998.
It does have some intertwining truths however it is more of an
attempt at Tim wanting to write a short story for himself. Even
though he passed through school like everyone else he never
learned to read or write until much later in life. He wrote this
short story when he was incarcerated and had plenty of time on
his hands. He loved to read
Louis L'Amour novels about cowboys
and gun fighters and you can see some influence in his story.
Around this time, Faith, Tim's 2nd wife had passed away so he
had a lot to think about and I believe this was an important
emotional outlet for him. The summer before his death Tim
actually ventured off into the woods, setup a camp and lived
like a cowboy. It was a place on a river north of Barrie that we
often explored as kids. There are a few photos of his base camp
on the photo album including
this one. He was really proud that
he learned these basic skills and had a genuine creative side
that not many would ever witness. He was a highly intelligent
person who just unfortunately never fully evolved.
This story was transcribed from a printout that Tim's sister
Kimberley cherished. The grammar and spelling is unedited and
it's "run ragged" in Timmy's own words.
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Tim's Story-Untitled - circa
1998 (unedited)
The clinging of the guard's keys was
still in my mind as I woke up for the last time. Today is my release
day, I was thinking as I put my clothes on. My wife had died almost
ten months ago. She had left me with eight thousand dollars when she
died. She had spent fifty thousand in one year, so I must say, she
went out in style. The first thing I wished to do when I was a free
man from the correctional institution was go to her grave and pay my
respects to my beloved wife.
The days grow into months and my life went on. I got myself a one
year old riding horse of light brown colour. I had picked up a large
black western style saddle, strap, bridle and blanket. I put
together a few things like eating and cooking things, sleeping gear
and made two sets of saddle bags to keep all my things in, safe from
the weather I expected to live in the next few months. I started my
journey at the Spring of the year. I started out with nowhere in
particular to go, I just to be by myself and alone. I was but not
like the alone like I was the last six months of my jail time.
In a six by ten cell with just a bed, a toilet, sink and small door
in the cell door which was my link to the world outside my living
quarters. A camera was in the upper corner that kept an eye on me
twenty four hours a day. I had lost the will to live two months
after my wife had passed on. I was placed in this cell after I tried
to take my own life.
The first day on my ride to nowhere, I stopped and camped beside a
fast flowing river. I had traveled for fifteen hours the first day
because I wanted to put the past behind me. I sat beside the fire
the first night, happy to finally be on my way. Supper was some
pork, beans and bread. It went down with the hot black coffee. I set
up a fishing line before I rolled out my bedding and turned in. I
remember how crisp the air was and that there was no clouds to be
seen, just a million stars up there that will be putting me to sleep
from now on.
The night went by very slowly. It seemed that every sound of the
forest kept me awake. I did get a little sleep. Morning came, the
fire was down to its coals, but I got it going with a few handfuls
of fuel. I put the coffee on and went to see if my fishing line had
anything on it for my breakfast. I was in luck, the line was up
stream and that was a sure sign there was a fish on it. I pulled in
my line and there it was about a three pound rainbow trout.
When I got back to camp, I cleaned and packed the fish then fried
him up with some beans I had left from last nights supper. I cleaned
and packed up my things, buried my waste, and was on my way. I was
heading north, still I made about twenty miles the first day and
hoped today went the same.
I stopped for coffee and something to eat when the sun was high in
the sky. I found some berries to have with my coffee and gave some
to my horse as a small treat. He is such a good horse, he listened
to me and seemed to understand me. I put my small fire out and we
were on our way.
There was a lot of small animals that I saw and was thinking that a
rabbit would make a nice supper. All I had with me in firearms was a
pellet gun, a rifle I have had for a few years. I found a spot were
there was a lot of rabbit droppings so I held up.
I put King, that is the horse's name, about a hundred yards from
where I planned to get me a rabbit. I thought the best place for me
would be up in the tree, about four or five feet up. I must have
been there for about two hours and didn't see not a one rabbit, so
off I went.
I had been following the river I slept at the night before. It
seemed to bring life to the bush and fields that I seen all day. It
was so nice to be out in the world land. All this life around me has
given me a new look at life and it made me feel warm inside to think
god made all of this. It was so peaceful, green and alive everywhere
I looked there was life. I was glad to be a part of it. I spurred my
horse and he jumped into action and we were off at a fast pace
across an open field.
The sun was touching the top of the trees to my left. It would be
dark in a few hours. I had left the river I was following to get
around some lakes. Tonight's camp would be at the foot of a bush.
After making camp, I went into the bush to see if I could bag me
something for supper. This time, I had with me a compound bow. It
was a small one held by one hand, but it had the power to kill
something at a small distance of forty or fifty feet. I seen lots of
birds, but none with any size to them.
I was sitting on a rock getting the makings out to roll a smoke when
something moved off to my right. I stopped what I was doing and
searched the area in the direction I seen the movement. The bow was
loaded and there it was, a rabbit, a white one, standing on his back
feet. In the silence of the bush, the rabbit was pinned to the floor
of the forest with an arrow through it's middle; he was dead. I
collected my kill and was off, back to camp. |
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