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.

 

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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