Tales of Uncle Ernest – (Continued) Section 5, “The Bird” – Chapter 2

Tales of Uncle Ernest – (Continued)

Section 5, “The Bird” – Chapter 2

Were you surprised that he did it? Now, Nina, what do you do with such an uncle? I was just a small boy at the time, and believe me I was puzzled. But for now, let me take you back to Uncle Ernest’s predicament at the harbor in Baltimore. Let me relate to you the weird tale that Uncle Ernest told me as we swung on that same front porch swing that we were on when he talked about the strange people he had met in that city.

A week had passed since our talk, however, because Uncle Ernest had gone on one of his long, liquid escapades. After he returned he was quiet for about a day and a half, but one evening he appeared at the swing, and as I was propelling it airplane-like, crashing from pole to house and house to pole as I tried to keep it on course at warp speed, he applied the brakes by grabbing the chain and gradually decelerating it enough to slide in next to me like a stable, no-nonsense copilot. “Howdy, Moose-the-Goose,” he grinned, as he knuckled my head as always.

“Hi Unk,” I said, squirming loose from his headlock with a giggle. “Are you feeling well enough to finish the story about what you did next in Baltimore?”

“Sure, Moose,” he replied, as the new ice cubes slid up to his nose when he took a long, steadied swig of his drink. “As I stood there in the harbor,” he said, wiping his face with the back of his hand, “I noticed that the skyline was dominated by the tall, brick tower that Ed had told me was called the Shot Tower. Ed had explained that during the Revolutionary War, cannon balls were formed by dropping hot leaden balls from the top into the water. Gravity formed the balls nearly round, making them suitable for firing at the redcoats.

“Believe me, Moose, I had never heard anything like it, and I decided to climb up to the top of the tower to get a good look at the city and to see what it would be like to drop an object something down the middle of a thing so high and narrow. I thought about how much fun it would be to hear it plop when it hit the bottom.”

“But Unk, weren’t you afraid a cop would arrest you and fine you? It could have been expensive fun.”

“You know something, Moose? There are times when, if an exciting idea strikes you, you just have to act upon it; sometimes a thing just has to be done. And expensive you say? Why, what do you think is the most expensive thing you can spend?”

“Be darned if I know."

“Time is the most expensive, Moose,” he explained in a serious tone of voice that I didn’t often hear him use, “and do you know what the cheapest thing you can spend is?”

“Nope,” I said.

“Money,” he answered, winking at me with delight.

“Silly,” I thought, but nodded just the same. Well, Nina, I’ve thought about that advice given by my loony uncle so many, many ages ago, and do you know, I think Uncle Ernest just may have been on to something. What do you think?  [To be continued Friday, 3/30/2012]