The Cockeyed Bull and The Perky Poodle

By Truman Godwin

This book is more than a collection. It is a composite of "customer appreciation." I have put together a number of short stories from my "reader feedback" information, in which readers have expressed their preference for some of my previously published stories. Then I have added a number of newly written, never before published stories, which I believe readers will find as entertaining as the favorites they have shared with me. I invite you to relax and enjoy my latest book of short stories. Truman D. Godwin.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mathis B Rogers
• Release date: Feb 4, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311127587

Truman Godwin

Truman D. GodwinAUGUST 17, 1931– DECEMBER 4, 2020Truman was born in Vernon, Texas in 1931. After graduating from Lubbock High School in 1948, he attended Texas Tech University in Lubbock, Texas where he majored in Electrical Engineering and Economics. He also studied British Literature and Business Law at the University of Texas. Truman was a Korean War veteran, and he was in the Telecommunications business for 52 years before retiring. He leaves behind his wife, Nancy, six children, and ten grandchildren. His favorite diversion was golf.His published works include: The Heritage of Luke, 666, and The End of the Row; a book of short stories, The Treasure of Chama Valley; a book of poetry, Beyond the Hedgerows; other miscellaneous magazine publications.He received the rights back to some of his books, and re-released them on his own and published them in Kindle and eBook editions also. Some of them he changed the names and covers.Find all of his books listed below.

Book preview

THE COCKEYED BULL

AND

THE PERKY POODLE

By

Truman Dayon Godwin

© 2015 Truman Dayon Godwin

Smashwords Edition, License Notes:

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Table of Contents

GWEN’S WORLD

THE SAGA OF PEDRO (PUKEY) PALMER

THE LINE-CROSSER

THE COCKEYED BULL AND THE PERKY POODLE

THE MUSIC BOX AND THE HAMMER

PEEWEE, THE RODEO CLOWN

THE ULTIMATE REVENGE

SYLVIA

THE BROTHERHOOD OF OLD MEN

MISS PYBAS AND THE CHICKEN THIEF

THE MIRACLE OF THE RED HAT

GWEN’S WORLD

By Truman Dayon Godwin

Gwendolyn’s father, Jude Feazell, was a fair and honest man. He strove to be a good example for his family and to teach his children behavior and beliefs that were, in his opinion, both good and right. Although he worked hard and wasn’t always able to participate in family affairs, he was steady and reliable. He put his family first whenever possible, even to the extent of letting work go when expedient or necessary just to be with family.

Jude’s daughter, Gwendolyn, had recently celebrated her tenth birthday. Among her presents was an attractive book from her parents, an item she had requested. It was filled with empty, lined pages, and decorated with cute designs spread across the backgrounds of most pages. It’s plain, black, hardback cover was nothing special, but overall it was attractive and well-constructed. After receiving the book, which she had yearned for to create her personal journal of thoughts and experiences, she decided to use Gwen, a shortened version of her name, as her preferred word of address and communication. This decision was partly inspired by her desire to decorate her new book with her name in special, colored lettering upon the front cover. Gwendolyn was too long to fit the limited space of the cover, so the shortened name of Gwen fit well and satisfied her youthful fancies. She began immediately to make entries in the book after completing her additional decorative modifications. In the following months of faithful practice she poured out her heart regularly in what she thought were the private pages of her journal, and which she now viewed as her completely trustworthy best friend. However, she was very careless—even lazy — in secreting its location in a secure place in the house.

The family lived on a 75 acre plot of farmland approximately 45 miles southeast of Plainview, Texas. Jude had worked extra hard one particular Friday, and when he came home late that evening, he decided to rest after a late meal his wife prepared for him, just before she went to bed. After eating, he went to the living room to relax before taking a shower and going to bed. When he sat down on the sofa, he happened to glance across the room to a desk placed in a corner where their children sometimes studied. He noticed the little book they had bought Gwendolyn lying on top of the desk, jumbled among various other books and papers. Her decorative work on the cover, plus her shortened name change, aroused his curiosity. He walked over and picked it up. When he sat back on the sofa to inspect the book, he opened the cover and the first page intrigued him.

The big, bold lettering, created by Gwendolyn in over-sized characters which he which he surmised was originated by Gwendolyn, and which caught his attention.

Dearly Beloved Honey Bear,

I will love you always,

Don’t mock me, Don’t tease me.

Don’t forget your promise.

The letters were enlarged enough to cover the entire first page of Gwen’s journal. The graphic nature of the words led Jude to speculate further on their possible composition. Maybe the words were his daughter’s. If not, then she had been unduly influenced by some stranger he didn’t know and probably didn’t approve of.

The most troubling aspect to him was the shocking words, assuming they actually were composed by his ten-year-old daughter. They imposed temporary feelings of shame where he sensed two explosive feelings. One, a personal failure of his fatherly duties, and two, obscure, but controlled anger. His immediate thought was, in all fairness, should I be angry with her, or with myself? The conflict made him quake from the uncertainty resident in both possibilities.

Being very tired from his long day, and engrossed deeply in the shocking possibilities of the revelation he had accidently found, he did not hear the door open, or the quiet steps of Gwendolyn as she came up behind the sofa. The sound of her voice was like the sudden noise of a hurt animal screeching its dismay.

Daddy! she shouted, as she stared at the pages of her journal lying opened on his lap. What are you doing with My World? There was both impatience and petulance in her shrill words.

Jude was so startled by the sudden intrusion that he jumped up to a standing position, and the copy of her book, Gwen’s World, spilled from his lap to the floor.

Gwendolyn hurried around the end of the sofa, scooped up her book quickly, and turned to leave the room. Clutching her book to her breast, and with tears in her eyes, she turned to Jude and said, It’s mine, Dad! Mine! Nobody else’s. Then she was quickly gone from the room.

Exasperated, Jude stood trembling from the sudden encounter and the finality of her words. An unwelcome wave of guilt swept through him with a bad feeling that stayed with him during his wakeful moments the rest of the night, and it went away only after he fell into a troubled sleep.

It was spring time, and Jude was involved in reconfiguring his irrigation ditches to coincide with a new crop plan he had devised for his property. He ran a wrecker service for his main financial support, and the proceeds from his land was productive only if he managed it carefully and used the profit as additional income to his wrecker service earnings. They lived comfortably on these two sources, plus what his wife earned as a second grade teacher at a nearby elementary school.

It was a hot day in early May, and he was nearly finished with his preparations of the land for spring planting. He was tired, but satisfied with his work, and happy for the progress in his plans. However, his confrontation with Gwendolyn last night created negative thoughts that were troublesome, so he was anxious for the day to be over. He intended to share the unpleasant experience regarding Gwendolyn’s journal with Mary Beth, his wife. While he was contemplating this unpleasant meeting with her, many worrisome thoughts flashed through his mind, thoughts that did not bode well with his idea of a smooth solution to what he knew was a ticklish situation. In addition, he was watching an ominous formation of clouds in the western skies. A high build-up of cumulonimbus clouds stretched across the sky revealing a boiling, constantly changing formation that demonstrated the explosive capacities inside them. By the time he pulled his tractor into the protection of his barn, he barely had time to gather his family and move them to the storm cellar before large hailstones began to beat incessantly on the roofs of the house and barn.

After the big tornado in nearby Lubbock, Texas several years before, Luke had seen first-hand the destructive power of such weather when he viewed grain elevators in the north of town where the terrible force of the storm sucked off some of the elevator tops and then sucked out thousands of pounds of grain from the tall structures, leaving them empty and some of the thick concrete walls damaged. As a result of this knowledge, he had improved his storm cellar by adding a sheet metal door above the concrete steps. They were hung by strong, oversized iron hinges. In addition, he divided the interior into two rooms with the back room sectioned off and protected by a sheet metal wall hung on one foot steel beams. The strong beams were driven securely through the concrete floor and fastened to the concrete ceiling with heavy one-inch steel bolts. Due to the fierceness of the storm, he moved his family to this highly protected back room. Still the howling wind produced a steady noise as it slammed icy projectiles of hail and loose debris against the steel door, and it could even be heard through the protected ventilation system which Luke had fashioned by implanting a 10-inch iron pipe through the concrete ceiling when it was poured. For about twenty minutes they huddled fearfully in the underground shelter hearing all of the destructive noises and feeling the vibrations of shaking earth and quivering walls while wondering if the whole body of their man-made protection was going to withstand the strains put on it by the furious storm.

Suddenly the noises and confusing rattles that engulfed them turned to a low rumble which grew louder. It was like a moving locomotive that was moving toward them, and it grew louder with each passing moment. The steel door of the cellar began to quiver and pop, the side wall in their small protective room swelled slightly, as though breathing, and the rumbling noise became so loud it was deafening. They covered their ears with their hands and huddled together as the powerful, rumbling storm passed overhead. A small bench in the corner of the room was sucked into the overhead 10-inch pipe, which clogged the pipe and prevented anything else—including their bodies—from being sucked into the pipe by the powerful force of the storm’s wind. This harrowing experience lasted only a few short moments, then it was suddenly gone as the rumbling noise receded into the distance.

Then all was quiet. Jude, followed by his family, left the small room and headed for the stairs. As they approached the stairway, they observed that the sheet iron door Jude had previously installed was gone. Jude mounted the stairs and peeked out. Their house was gone; their cars were gone; likewise, the barn and all his farm equipment were gone, too.

One by one, they ventured outside into a light, after-storm drizzle that wet their faces. Mary Beth turned around in a circle and said. Dear God, everything is gone. Everything!

For many sad moments, the shocked family stood gazing at the terrible destruction around them, and they all shared similar feelings of fear and helplessness as the catastrophe of their total loss overcame their consternation. Each one reacted in different ways to the tragic sight and its meaning; Mary Beth crossed her arms and hugged her breasts in a silent gesture of protectiveness against the incalculable value of such a tragic loss. Jude, open-mouthed, silently surveyed the scene and repeatedly clenched his fists as his mind struggled to put an estimated value on the whole disastrous picture. Gwen had never seen or experienced such widespread destruction or felt such heart breaking loss, particularly because she realized her beloved journal was carried away with the house. She let a couple of tears roll silently down her cheeks to express her dismay, while her older brother, Chuck, sprung to his feet and raced out amid the scattered debris muttering surprised epithets at the wonder of the storm and the amazing spectacle of its results.

Very soon, a concerned neighbor drove by to check on them. After making sure they were safe, he volunteered to take them into Lubbock where they were lucky enough to find a motel with a vacancy and reasonable facilities for a long stay. When Jude signed the register, he handed the attendant his credit card as he made it clear that his family was there for an undetermined time because they were now homeless.

Next day, Jude (feeling properly chastised for what he accepted as an act of God), went back to the sad task of rebuilding their home, their business, and their future. Still, Gwendolyn's question stuck with him like a contrary burr that wouldn't let go. It rung through his mind like the incessant sound of an alarm bell that tolled a message, Daddy, what are you doing with MY world?

The introspective question that had lingered in his mind and nagged him ever since Gwen had uttered the words, still echoed through his mind with ever increasing clarity, and the question forced in his mind the repetitive thought: What AM I doing with HER world?

The answer to the question came to him the next day when he took Gwendolyn to the cemetery to place a fresh bouquet of flowers on Bucky's grave. Bucky was killed in the recent tornado that struck the area. After she bent down and placed them on the headstone and tried to stand up, she almost fell face down across the grave. Jude managed to catch her and prevent an ugly fall. Her body was shaking and tears ran copiously down her cheeks. Deep sobbing sounds came from her throat as she burst forth in uncontrolled grief. She held tightly to Jude, and he comforted her as best he knew how. It was that very moment the answer to her question came streaming through the turbid aura of unfulfilled love and premature grief. Jude held her close and said, smoothly and gently.

Gwen, Dear, I hope you will always remember this moment, because I have the answer to the question you asked me several days ago. You asked me, maybe in anger, when you caught me reading your journal, what was I doing with your world?

I'll confess that it prompted me to do a lot of thinking, because it's the kind of question any child might ask a parent. And it's a good one, because the answer questions the parameters wherein a child may live in security and love and grow to be the best they can be in accordance with their interests, ambition, and maturity. He paused, then added, I'm not going to promise you a life without trouble, pain, or disappointment. You will have your share of all those things, because they are a part of life. Again he paused, thoughtfully, and said, However, I will make