THE ROAD TO SACRED HEART - part 2

 (This is the second and final installment of this story.  The first part was published last week.)

The following contains words that may be offensive.  These were used sparingly and in context with the time and place this story occurs.  In no way were they intended to abuse or offend any reader.

"Alex, stop!  Stop, Alex!  You're gonna kill us all."  .
    “Red, we’re not gonna die.  We gotta’ baseball game to play," said Alex.   Red dust clouded the interior of the Model A.  Nostrils were lined with the stuff, leaving a gritty taste in the mouth
    He reached for the ignition button with this foot as he glanced across the road.
    "Shoot we're at the Sacred Heart already."  Alex spied the Sacred Heart Academy baseball diamond.  He hit the ignition and moved the car slowly.
    "But if we take this little road here,” he pointed to his right, “we can sit by the creek and smoke cigarettes."  Alex parked next to a tree that shielded the car from the road and had a view of the creek.
    "Fred, pull out the Luckies"
    Lucky Strikes were the cigarettes of choice.  They lit up and puffed up.  Red in the back seat was feeling left out.
    "Cum own.  Let me have a cig," said Red.
    Alex, looking sly, "Gib 'im the cigarette, why don't ya," he said to Fred.
    "We got a special one for ya, Red," said Fred.  "Ah rolled it myself."
    It was special alright.  It could have been called a Montclair “Meadow Muffin”, or maybe a Newport “Number Two.”  A Dunhill “Dung” would have been an accurate appraisal.  The brothers just called it a shit cigarette.  They laced the inner part of a cigarette paper with cow poop, then sprinkled tobacco at either end and rolled it to conceal their skulduggery.  Fred handed over the Panatela “Peek a Poo” to Red.
    "Ah, thanks, Fred.  Ya'll boys are alright."  Red lit up and took a drag.  "Man, ah ain't never tasted anythin’ like this before."
    Alex and L.B. were giggling in the front seat.  Fred smiled, sitting next to Red.  But there was more mischief presenting itself.  L.B. spied three nuns with fishing poles walking from the direction of the schoolyard toward the creek.
    "I'm gonna bless them nuns with my ‘nigger-shooter’," said L.B.
    His uncle Pete, Stella's brother, made a sling shot out of a small "y" shaped branch of a eucalyptus tree.  He cut strips from an old inner tube to complete the sling.  It was just big enough to fit in L.B.'s hand.  He was getting pretty good with it.
    "What ya gon'na shoot 'em with, L.B.," Fred was wondering.
    "I got china berries.  I will not fail."  L.B. crept out of the Model A, stalking the nuns.
    "Hey, Red, why don't you cum with us to watch L.B. shoot at the nuns," said Alex.  He wanted to make sure he didn't miss Red turn green from the loaded cigarette
    "Man this shore is mighty strange cig you got me."  Red held the Marlboro "Manure" between his thumb and index finger.  "I'm cum'n"
    "Red, ya cain't tell me you ain't got shit to smoke any more, cuz ya been smokn' it for the last 10 minutes."  Alex doubled over laughing when Fred said that to Red.
    "Shh, Shh, there're the nuns.  We got to be quiet," said L.B.
    L.B., sidled up behind an oak tree a few feet away from the nuns who stood at the bank of the creek.  He looked back at his entourage and smiled as they arrived next to him.
    Alex said, "Hey that big nun used to be at our school.  'Member her Fred?"
    "Yeah what was her name."
    "Oh, we called her Sister Poot Juice," said Red.  "She would fart and smell up the whole room."
    The boys were holding their breath trying not to laugh out loud, air escaping in bursts as they laughed.
    "She hit me over the head with her bible.  Man I'm startn' to feel wierd," Red confessed.
    "Stop smokin' that shit cigarette," said Fred
    "You really put shit in this cigarette?"
    "Yah," all the boys whispered at once.
    L.B. stretched back his sling shot, the china berry zipped into the air and hit the big nun in the back of the head.
    "Did something fall from the tree," Sister Immaculata was speculating about the sudden impact on her head.  The other two nuns looked up at the tree.  They resumed fishing.
    L.B. was maneuvering for another shot at his quarry when a loud boom echoed from the road. It was a backfire.
    "Oh shit, that's coach Nowicki's truck, here comes the team!  We better get over to the field and get things ready."
    The boys abandoned their immediate mischief, jumping into the Model A that lurched forward and sputtered when Alex engaged the clutch too fast.
    It had been a typical afternoon in the lives of country boys.