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Marine Corps
The Origin of Top
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Part 18
19 -Missing
Part 20

Topicus Makes A Beach

Part IX


More mountains, rivers and streams to cross. Setting astride this critter mile after mile was not the most comfortable position to be in. Keep in mind that Bear (the unique name she came up with for the huge brown) was at least three axe handles across the back. That meant that a person of Topicus’ stature, who set astride him, had to have their legs almost horizontal to the deck (Several possible comments here! HEE HEE!). So sometimes she rode him standing, sometimes with her legs curled underneath much like a bearskin rug in front of the fire place, or even back to back while taking a nap in the warm sunshine.

Little did she know that Stevoleonious was busy at this very moment talking to the one they called The Tracker. It was he who wandered the world over, searching, searching East, West, North and South. Across both Oceans and into lands of burning sands where men did strange things to their camels. Into the lands of the rising sun and even into the lands with no sun. No one knew exactly what he was looking for and some doubted that even HE knew! “Stevo!”, He called to his old friend as he climbed the remaining few yards, leading his Yak. “Thou seem to be somewhat crippled in thy left knee. Looks pretty bad, all blue and yellowish green. And if thou insist on using thy spear for a crutch it would be less painful to put the handle, thus the blunt end, under thy armpit! It would be much less painful, at least in that area.” Stevo told his story about the sneaky, unprovoked attack by an 8 foot amazon. Well, The Tracker had heard about this wild female warrior and knew there were many wild stories about her size and abilities. Some rumors, such as being tall as a tree,he knew was wild scuttlebutt but some he HOPED were true and that he himself would get to participate (even though Stevelanious’s efforts at ‘participating’ had brought painful results). He promised his old friend that while he was healing that HE, The Tracker, would take up the chase and seek retribution on this wildwood flower. He bid his old friend farewell an went off down Mt St Helen in this new quest. (Trying to ride his Yak with great difficulty.)

Well, It was just as well that she was ignorant of that at this time. She was crossing a great divide where the rivers now ran to the cold Blue Waters to the West. The really Big Ocean. Nearing the cliffs that arose above the shore she came upon the abode of another Old Warrior. Topicus thought to herself, “ Another ‘Old’ Warrior! Why in the name of CHP can’t I meet a “young” warrior. I keep meeting “old” Warriors. All the young warriors could not have been slain, because there wouldn’t be any 'Old' Warriors! There must be a Young Warrior somewhere!” She sighed heavily and continued her observations. Well, anyways, this Old Warrior was down on the ground wrestling a tree! The tree had the better part of The Old Warrior and with some difficulty he finally got from under the tree. “ I’ve got to watch this lout”, she said to herself. “He is such a danger to himself he might kill someone else! Is this because he is ‘Old’ or could it be that he is just a ‘Man’? Man, probably,since I can see a female yelling at him!” So she stayed in the tree line to reconnoiter the whole of the area and it’s populace. Yes this Old Warrior had a name, Bigcus Tomicus. Most of his friends just called him “Big‘Un". Big‘Un had a strange hobby. He would take a perfectly good, sturdy, state-of-the-art chariot and make it old again. Remove the shiney new spoke wheels and replace them with the old wooden wheels; remove the gear required for the four strong and fast horses and replace it with gearing for a small pony or donkey with little power. Then he would remove the fine windscreen that also served as a arrow shield. He removed the fine cushioned seat and replaced it with a hard board. He would step back and admire his handy work, then gather his buddies about him and they would drink the fermented malted brew and talk endlessly about this “classic”. The most prideful event would be to ride about the countryside in this fine wobbly old creation, his little half HP pony panting away, tipping his leather helmet to the ladies. Topicus sat scratching her fine red mane trying to figure this one out!

The second day, for a closer look, Topicus came up through the meadow and was some yards from the cliff’s edge. Big‘Un was known around those parts to break into song at the least musical sound. Because he was know for his ability to harmonize. In fact he sired a long line of musicians, one of who had several children who could sing. (This descendant became estranged from his offspring because they had all fallen into a rock genre and he was insisting that they join him in some strange sounding thing called “barbershop” (They didn’t just rebel, they threatened). Well, Topicus came up through the grass leading Bear and whistling a fine tune. Big‘Un, working and humming at cliff’s edge, looked up, and to match the melody he began to sing “The Sound of Music” every bit as good as it would be sung centuries later. Topicus, lost in this impromptu musical show, walked straight into a low lying briar patch. Briars suddenly came up to and through tender areas (to put it delicately) before she knew what had happened. She hit a note about 1000 octaves higher than Julie Andrews or even Celine Dion! Remember this coast is always shaky and even crumbles on it’s own! That screech, and the predisposition for the earth to crack around here, caused a good slice of the cliff to slide away.....along with Big‘Un. A great Whoosh! and he was last seen with both arms up in the air, because he was in the grand finale of his song, disappearing into a cloud of dust. “WTF.....!” Topicus said aloud! She ran to the edge thinking, “Damn I’ve killed another one and this was a kindly old soul, too!” Then she looked over the edge and saw him down on the beach just out of the reach of the waves. He was moving all his extremities and groaning. Now she sighed with relief. She yelled, “Good act old man! That will be a hard one to follow”!

Signed,
Royal P.I.T.A.

e-mail Jim
created: Aug 18, 2003