Three boys a fort and revelation
fractus
Posts: 67
An old true story I found on my PC. Kinda long, but true and it was scary.
An old friend of mine Brandon and I decided to camp in a fort that we built in the woods close to our home. I think we were 13 or 14. The fort was a wooden frame built over a crater that was left by an uprooted tree. We put a tarp over the wooden frame and lined the floor
with old carpet samples. Justin, another old friend, had a garage close by so we ran a long series of extension cords to the fort for power. The next logical step was to spend the night in our new fort that we were so very proud of. So there we are hanging out in our new fort around midnight trying to get a buzz off drinking cans of coke really fast when we decided to head
back to the house. We weren't deep in the woods and the novelty of sleeping on the ground wears quickly when your comfy bed is only a few hundred yards away. So we start rolling up our sleeping bags and collecting our gear when we hear it. Over ten years have gone by and I can still hear that terrifying sound perfectly. Brandon looked at me with pure fear and quickly said "What was that?!?". A few seconds later the sound came again but this time an engine fired with a rip roar that paralyzed both of us. A few seconds later, in one of Brandon's finest moments…he ran. Ran like the fucking wind and you can bet your ass I followed. We ran out of that fort and through the woods with a speed that mocks the sound barrier. Tree limb after log, we ran. We would crack our shins on dead trees and get slashed by sticker bushes but we never stopped running. We would fall and be back on our feet before the snap of a twig had the chance to rattle your ear drum. Our driving force was the scream of a chainsaw that was surely only inches from our heels. Brandon likes to tell it that after tripping and launching into the air, he looked my direction and I was also fighting with gravity in a slow parallel fashion, sleeping bag in one hand. Finally, limb whipped and frantic we made it to the clear. The hum of old man Henson’s yard lamps never sounded so good. In the distance we heard the chainsaw shut off followed by a laugh. That would be our only clue as to who wielded the buzz saw that horrifying night. I can recall thinking to myself that I would never forget this night…I was right.
Now, 12 or so years later we tell the story over beers and uproarious laughter.
Today an old friend of mine Justin stopped by to have a few beers. We sat around talking about the old days in the neighborhood. Telling the same stories we have told each other for years. The tales haven’t gotten old and I hope they never do. Unavoidably the conversation turned to the tornado that recently heavily damaged the woods in our old neighborhood. We decided to survey the wake of the storm that tore apart our old playground. The woods are nothing like they were before the twister. Justin and I immediately began digging into our childhood. Trees covered the trails we painstakingly cut out of milkweed and poison ivy. 2X4s were hurled long distances from where they were once makeshift ladders to tree houses. The uprooted trees spark another old story. The one about the chain saw. I start telling the story and Justin reminds me that he was also going to stay out there with us that night but his mom wouldn't let him. I had forgotten about that. Well, I get to the part about how we still have no idea who it was with the
chainsaw and Justin mumbles something. I continue with my amazement of the whole situation and Justin mumbled louder. Not believing what I just heard I asked him.
Say again?
It was me.
What?
It was me!
The next thirty seconds were a NO YES volley. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I was certain I would go to my grave never knowing who it was. Let alone finding out Justin had a devilish finger on the throttle. Justin proceeded to tell me about how he was upset because his mom wouldn't let him camp with us so his mother’s boyfriend decided to cheer Justin up by
suggesting they scare us with a chainsaw. Justin was game and
the rest is history. Of course Justin had a shit eating grin while telling
me this amazing secret he had kept for so many years. I’m not sure what is more impressive, the fact that it was Justin or that he has kept his cool through so many tellings of this story
over the years. Not once did he give a hint that he was guilty.
Son of bitch got us good and I fucking love him for it.
So kids, two morals to this story.
1. Always expect the unexpected.
2. Some of the greatest moments of our lives are the scariest.
Here is to old mysteries solved,
Josh
An old friend of mine Brandon and I decided to camp in a fort that we built in the woods close to our home. I think we were 13 or 14. The fort was a wooden frame built over a crater that was left by an uprooted tree. We put a tarp over the wooden frame and lined the floor
with old carpet samples. Justin, another old friend, had a garage close by so we ran a long series of extension cords to the fort for power. The next logical step was to spend the night in our new fort that we were so very proud of. So there we are hanging out in our new fort around midnight trying to get a buzz off drinking cans of coke really fast when we decided to head
back to the house. We weren't deep in the woods and the novelty of sleeping on the ground wears quickly when your comfy bed is only a few hundred yards away. So we start rolling up our sleeping bags and collecting our gear when we hear it. Over ten years have gone by and I can still hear that terrifying sound perfectly. Brandon looked at me with pure fear and quickly said "What was that?!?". A few seconds later the sound came again but this time an engine fired with a rip roar that paralyzed both of us. A few seconds later, in one of Brandon's finest moments…he ran. Ran like the fucking wind and you can bet your ass I followed. We ran out of that fort and through the woods with a speed that mocks the sound barrier. Tree limb after log, we ran. We would crack our shins on dead trees and get slashed by sticker bushes but we never stopped running. We would fall and be back on our feet before the snap of a twig had the chance to rattle your ear drum. Our driving force was the scream of a chainsaw that was surely only inches from our heels. Brandon likes to tell it that after tripping and launching into the air, he looked my direction and I was also fighting with gravity in a slow parallel fashion, sleeping bag in one hand. Finally, limb whipped and frantic we made it to the clear. The hum of old man Henson’s yard lamps never sounded so good. In the distance we heard the chainsaw shut off followed by a laugh. That would be our only clue as to who wielded the buzz saw that horrifying night. I can recall thinking to myself that I would never forget this night…I was right.
Now, 12 or so years later we tell the story over beers and uproarious laughter.
Today an old friend of mine Justin stopped by to have a few beers. We sat around talking about the old days in the neighborhood. Telling the same stories we have told each other for years. The tales haven’t gotten old and I hope they never do. Unavoidably the conversation turned to the tornado that recently heavily damaged the woods in our old neighborhood. We decided to survey the wake of the storm that tore apart our old playground. The woods are nothing like they were before the twister. Justin and I immediately began digging into our childhood. Trees covered the trails we painstakingly cut out of milkweed and poison ivy. 2X4s were hurled long distances from where they were once makeshift ladders to tree houses. The uprooted trees spark another old story. The one about the chain saw. I start telling the story and Justin reminds me that he was also going to stay out there with us that night but his mom wouldn't let him. I had forgotten about that. Well, I get to the part about how we still have no idea who it was with the
chainsaw and Justin mumbles something. I continue with my amazement of the whole situation and Justin mumbled louder. Not believing what I just heard I asked him.
Say again?
It was me.
What?
It was me!
The next thirty seconds were a NO YES volley. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I was certain I would go to my grave never knowing who it was. Let alone finding out Justin had a devilish finger on the throttle. Justin proceeded to tell me about how he was upset because his mom wouldn't let him camp with us so his mother’s boyfriend decided to cheer Justin up by
suggesting they scare us with a chainsaw. Justin was game and
the rest is history. Of course Justin had a shit eating grin while telling
me this amazing secret he had kept for so many years. I’m not sure what is more impressive, the fact that it was Justin or that he has kept his cool through so many tellings of this story
over the years. Not once did he give a hint that he was guilty.
Son of bitch got us good and I fucking love him for it.
So kids, two morals to this story.
1. Always expect the unexpected.
2. Some of the greatest moments of our lives are the scariest.
Here is to old mysteries solved,
Josh
An alien at home behind the sun
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