Bruce Blackwell (6)

Bruce was on his way back, to the wilds of Alaska. As wild as Alaska was Bruce liked the place, and had thoughts of someday living there. 

forest.jpgDays before, Bruce left for Alaska, it was warm, and sunny with a high of thirty-five degrees. Bruce did his best, to take in as much sun, as he could. Bruce had gone to the park, and had taken a friend’s dog for a walk. Bruce was not a dog person, so when he took a dog for a walk, everyone, began looking at him, as if he had lost his mind. One fella asked. “Hey, Bruce, what’s up?” Bruce just shrugged his shoulders, and explained. “I remember how cold it was in Alaska, the last time I went. And, this time I thought I would, bulk up on the sunshine before I left.” Once Bruce, had put his reason in words, it all made sense. 

Bruce made his way to the air strip, where a smaller plane was waiting for him. The traffic was all clogged up, and no matter which way Bruce traveled, he was stuck. It felt like all the people in the whole country, had come out for a drive. “Didn’t anyone stay home anymore?” Bruce kept asking himself. Bruce, was now twenty minutes late for his flight, and he was getting very excited. He had called, the air strip four times already. There was no way the plane, would leave the air strip, without him.  Bruce was worried about, the time it would be in Alaska. With the air strip, in the middle of the bush, where would he spend the night?

After, an hour of pure stress, Bruce finally reached the air strip. The plane was sitting on the runway, and the pilot was having dinner in the lunchroom.  Bruce stepped inside the door way, and gave a cheery. “I’m finally here.”  The pilot, (George) waved him over, and kicked out a chair for Bruce to sit on. “No problem.” George said, as he slurped on a bowl of hot soup.  “Did you eat?” George, asked Bruce. “No.” Bruce answered, as he rubbed his stomach. “Well, you best get some soup, and sandwich, as we are in for a long night.” George said. Bruce looked at him with that, WHA! look on his face. “Why would we be in for a long night?” Bruce asked. 

George didn’t quite understand Bruce. “Well.” George said. “We can’t land in the dark, so we are bunking down, here for the night.”  “Bunking where?” Bruce asked. “Just up those stairs, and to the right.” George pointed the way. Bruce, walked over to the vending machines, and picked out a ham sandwich on whole wheat, and a can of chicken noodle soup. This was not a great place to eat, but it was food, and that was what Bruce needed right now.  Bruce poured the soup in a plastic bowl, then heated it in a thing that looked like a microwave. He grabbed a handful of crackers, and threw them onto his tray. At least with all the crackers he could drown out the bad taste of the soup. “Ding,” the microwave went. Bruce grabbed his soup, and sat down beside George. 

“Hey, George.” “What time, will we be leaving in the morning?” Bruce asked. “I would think around five a.m.” George replied.  “Wow, that’s early.” Bruce blurted out.  “We have a way to travel, and I want to get there by noon.” George explained.   Bruce, and George sat talking, as they finished their vending machine dinners. George told Bruce, how he had once tried to land at night, and the outcome was not a good one. That night was the coldest he had ever experienced, and a couple of tree limbs had clipped his left-wing, and put the plane down for good. The damage was really bad, and planes where really NOT cheap. 

George, and Bruce took the winding stairs to the bunk room. As soon as they opened the door, a smell hit Bruce right square in the face. Bruce stepped back a couple of steps, and coughed as he covered his nose, and mouth. “Can’t you smell that George?” Bruce asked. George just chuckled, and sat on a bunk. “Must be from the last person that slept here.” “The fellas that bunk here, aren’t the cleanest guys.”  George said. Bruce was not going to sleep, in any of those bunks, and he told George that, in no uncertain terms. George just grunted, and turned towards the wall. 

Bruce, spent his night draped over a lunchroom table, while sitting in a chair. Morning came way too early. George tapped Bruce on the shoulder, and woke him up. “Time to go Bruce.” George said.  Bruce tried to move, as the pain shot through his contorted body.  Once, in the plane Bruce relaxed.  The flight over the Alaskan, country side was amazing.  Bruce would soon be at the air strip, and on the ground.

Join me next week as we, follow Bruce on his Alaskan adventure. 

I would like, to thank all my followers, readers, and visitors, for stopping by to read my stories. 🙂

gran driving red  lips (2).jpgMAGS.

“Have a great Friday, and take care of those you love, and help when ever you can.”  🙂 🙂

Please, leave any comments, or questions below. Thanks 🙂

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