Witch Clan: Warriors! by John Stormm (good book club books txt) π
Excerpt from the book:
Evil wizards attack from a parallel world, stealing weapons and artifacts to attack and annex other worlds. Emma's little clan, with the help of a Mohawk warrior mentor for Johnny are the only hope for more than one universe!
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on the radio, "This is the Teddy Bear receiving you at a five on my meter, buddy. Whatcher handle and twenty?"
"This is the Little Fox," he replied, "coming from the middle of Rochester, New York. Thanks for the check. I'm just getting this thing set up."
"Well, you're coming through just fine," Teddy Bear replied. "I'm picking you up as clear as crystal in East Bloomfield, New York. I'd say that qualified as a fine job, buddy. Are you new to the area?"
"Ten four, Bear," he replied, "I just moved down here from Northern New York."
"Welcome, and good luck, Little Fox," the Bear responded. "We've got us a 'bunny hunt' going on and most of us are mobile right now and homing in on our 'bunny'. Maybe we can get together for a coffee break in the near future and you can meet all the gang."
"Sounds like a big ten four there, Bear," he said smiling into the mike. "I'll catch up with you when I get everything settled here. This is KEC 5191, Little Fox signing off."
"We'll be listening for ya, Little Fox," came the reply. "This is KUQ 2533, Teddy Bear out." He had almost forgotten the boy was still with him as Johnny stood and watched the exchange.
βYou wouldnβt just happen to have an operatorβs license on you now, would you?β he asked.
βUm, no,β Johnny replied. βHow would I get one?β
βWell, I guess weβll have to look into that, when we go meet the local CBers later,β he said.
βCan I go too?β Johnny asked, wide eyed.
βWell, not today,β he said. βIβve got work early tomorrow. But if your grandma says itβs okay, weβll see who we can meet on Friday or Saturday. Thereβs a good coffee shop up in the Goodman Plaza that sells donuts and we can arrange a meet up and maybe get into a bunny hunt for some fun.β
βWhatβs a bunny hunt?β Johnny asked.
βThatβs where a person, the βbunnyβ, drives out and parks his car with a mobile rig and talks a lot,β he explained, βand all the other CBers have to use their mobile rigs and watch their meters and hunt him down. When they do, they announce the winner. Sometimes thereβs a prize or trophy involved, and then they all have coffee and talk about radios and stuff.β
βDo you have a CB in your car too?β Johnny asked.
βWell, not yet.β he said. βBut Iβve been thinking about getting one, and I might as well get a directional hoop too if weβre going to bunny hunt.β
The boy was positively enchanted with the technology, and showed a lot of promise in following detailed directions. He almost felt bad for sending Johnny home so he could turn in for the night. Five a.m. always came early, and his job was demanding. The lad was a quick study, and shared his passion for radios. This was going to be a nice place to live. The folks here were growing on him already.
* * *
It was quite a day at the new job. He had been there a little over a week now, and the coworkers were friendly. John was an excellent machinist and quickly earned the respect of his peers. He actually enjoyed the sweet smell of cutting oil on the parts he manufactured. In the lunch room, a guy named Smitty had told him about a Lafayette Radio Outlet on Ridge Road, about a mile north of his neighborhood. He had more than enough money left over to buy a new rig. Ah, the benefits of being single.
A fair sized plaza with a large parking lot commanded his attention and there was the familiar logo, as promised. Looking about the store were a host of hobby items from F.M. radio kits to Vandegraf generators. A pair of black, Space Patrol walkie talkies that boasted a quarter mile range caught his eye for under twelve dollars. The boy's birthday was only days away, and he wouldn't need a license for these. The mobile CB and antenna array were considerably more, but all of it was well within his budget. He walked out of the store to his car feeling very pleased with himself about his purchases.
Emma and Willard said that they were having a party for the boy on Saturday, so he kept his purchases in the trunk with some tools and hooked up his new mobile unit in the parking lot after work Friday night and drove around testing it till after dark to avoid Johnny seeing his surprise. He was to pick up Johnny about mid morning on Saturday, and take him around with the CB for awhile as Emma and the neighbors set up his party in the backyard. At ten o'clock sharp on Saturday morning, he crossed the street to pick up Johnny for a little impromptu bunny hunt and coffee break with the Bear and his buddies.
"Are you ready for this, sport?" he said.
Johnny stood breathless. John's red convertible was all clean and shiny with a fresh wax job. A large whip antenna was mounted on the rear bumper and on the passenger side near the side view mirror, was a directional hoop antenna that Johnny would be expected to operate for the bunny hunt.
"Your job will be to aim that hoop around when our bunny is talking and watch that meter on the set," he instructed. "When that meter is as far as its going to get on the signal, you tell me what direction the hoop is facing by saying 'one o'clock' or such. Twelve o'clock is straight ahead and six o'clock is straight behind us. You following that?"
"Three o'clock would be right and nine o'clock would be left, correct?" Johnny said, mimicking his tone perfectly.
"You're really spooky sometimes. You know that?" he said, ruffling the boy's hair.
"Ten four, good buddy," Johnny mimicked.
"You need to quit that," he warned, "or I'm going to have to stop the car and look at my wallet to see which of us said that. How can you expect a man to drive the car and follow the conversation if the question in the air is always who said what?"
"Sorry," Johnny said.
"No you're not," he said, swatting him playfully, "You're quite pleased with yourself today. It's your birthday."
In short order, the airwaves filled with chatter as Teddy Bear established where the coffee break would take place, and CBers from all over the city began tracking his signal. Johnny followed directions and gave directions flawlessly, and they were the first carload to track the Bear down at Vic and Irv's just north of Sea Breeze and Durand Park. It was a beautiful summer morning by the lake. A Texas hot and Coke were in order for the boy as he had tracked the Bear down good. He would prove to be an excellent partner in bunny hunts. He made a mental note to sign them up for some of the more sanctioned events when he could. Meeting all the local enthusiasts and their wives was a hit. Johnny ate up all the specialized lingo of the radio world like it was his second language. Before long it was time to get the boy back home for his surprise party. As they pulled up to the house, Leona left the porch to go inside. No doubt it was to tell the others to be ready. The street was unusually quiet for a summer afternoon.
"Well, I'll go park my car and be over in a little bit, okay?" he said.
"I think there's a party," Johnny said with an odd expression. "There's a lot of people here."
"How can you tell?" he asked.
"I like these people," Johnny said. "and I feel them all in one place, right here," the boy said tapping his heart.
"Remind me not to try and sneak up on you," he said. "Have I told you that you're a spooky kid?"
"A couple times today," Johnny said smiling.
Johnny's party was a neighborhood blast. The ever abundant Smith kids brought a record player and a towering stack of 45 rpm records to dance to. Most of the adults sat in the shade of Emma's pear tree while Johnny and Leona danced uninhibitedly in a mix of ethnicities that the United Nations would envy. Mrs. Genovese from next door brought an olive salad and stuffed shells for the spread. Geraldine Smith, with her crowd of children and grandchildren brought army sized portions of fatback, collared greens and cornbread muffins, not to mention the entertainment. The Morales kids brought fried bananas and pasteles. A spread of acorn muffins, miniature meat and potato pies and casseroles and soft drinks, besides the cake and ice cream ensured the steady dancing and socializing would not lack for food and refreshments. The gifts were handed out after the cake and ice cream. As the neighborhood was not especially affluent, John felt a little self conscious about the walkie talkies he had bought for the boy. Next time, he promised himself, he'd give such gifts privately. Still, the spirits were high as one of the Smith girls held up a 45 rpm record that seemed to be significant to the other kids in the crowd and looked to Johnny with a challenge in her eyes and pointed to the disk.
"Can the birthday boy do it again?" she asked before the hushed crowd of kids. Johnny's face broke out in a slow sly smile as he recognized the record.
"Does Howdy Doody got a wooden butt?" Johnny asked with a wicked grin.
"Here we go again," someone yelled from the crowd near the record player. The most heathen sounding drumbeat John had ever heard emerged from the phonograph. Johnny was standing still, with his eyes half shut as muscles started twitching to the rhythm and he gave in to the music.
"This is the Little Fox," he replied, "coming from the middle of Rochester, New York. Thanks for the check. I'm just getting this thing set up."
"Well, you're coming through just fine," Teddy Bear replied. "I'm picking you up as clear as crystal in East Bloomfield, New York. I'd say that qualified as a fine job, buddy. Are you new to the area?"
"Ten four, Bear," he replied, "I just moved down here from Northern New York."
"Welcome, and good luck, Little Fox," the Bear responded. "We've got us a 'bunny hunt' going on and most of us are mobile right now and homing in on our 'bunny'. Maybe we can get together for a coffee break in the near future and you can meet all the gang."
"Sounds like a big ten four there, Bear," he said smiling into the mike. "I'll catch up with you when I get everything settled here. This is KEC 5191, Little Fox signing off."
"We'll be listening for ya, Little Fox," came the reply. "This is KUQ 2533, Teddy Bear out." He had almost forgotten the boy was still with him as Johnny stood and watched the exchange.
βYou wouldnβt just happen to have an operatorβs license on you now, would you?β he asked.
βUm, no,β Johnny replied. βHow would I get one?β
βWell, I guess weβll have to look into that, when we go meet the local CBers later,β he said.
βCan I go too?β Johnny asked, wide eyed.
βWell, not today,β he said. βIβve got work early tomorrow. But if your grandma says itβs okay, weβll see who we can meet on Friday or Saturday. Thereβs a good coffee shop up in the Goodman Plaza that sells donuts and we can arrange a meet up and maybe get into a bunny hunt for some fun.β
βWhatβs a bunny hunt?β Johnny asked.
βThatβs where a person, the βbunnyβ, drives out and parks his car with a mobile rig and talks a lot,β he explained, βand all the other CBers have to use their mobile rigs and watch their meters and hunt him down. When they do, they announce the winner. Sometimes thereβs a prize or trophy involved, and then they all have coffee and talk about radios and stuff.β
βDo you have a CB in your car too?β Johnny asked.
βWell, not yet.β he said. βBut Iβve been thinking about getting one, and I might as well get a directional hoop too if weβre going to bunny hunt.β
The boy was positively enchanted with the technology, and showed a lot of promise in following detailed directions. He almost felt bad for sending Johnny home so he could turn in for the night. Five a.m. always came early, and his job was demanding. The lad was a quick study, and shared his passion for radios. This was going to be a nice place to live. The folks here were growing on him already.
* * *
It was quite a day at the new job. He had been there a little over a week now, and the coworkers were friendly. John was an excellent machinist and quickly earned the respect of his peers. He actually enjoyed the sweet smell of cutting oil on the parts he manufactured. In the lunch room, a guy named Smitty had told him about a Lafayette Radio Outlet on Ridge Road, about a mile north of his neighborhood. He had more than enough money left over to buy a new rig. Ah, the benefits of being single.
A fair sized plaza with a large parking lot commanded his attention and there was the familiar logo, as promised. Looking about the store were a host of hobby items from F.M. radio kits to Vandegraf generators. A pair of black, Space Patrol walkie talkies that boasted a quarter mile range caught his eye for under twelve dollars. The boy's birthday was only days away, and he wouldn't need a license for these. The mobile CB and antenna array were considerably more, but all of it was well within his budget. He walked out of the store to his car feeling very pleased with himself about his purchases.
Emma and Willard said that they were having a party for the boy on Saturday, so he kept his purchases in the trunk with some tools and hooked up his new mobile unit in the parking lot after work Friday night and drove around testing it till after dark to avoid Johnny seeing his surprise. He was to pick up Johnny about mid morning on Saturday, and take him around with the CB for awhile as Emma and the neighbors set up his party in the backyard. At ten o'clock sharp on Saturday morning, he crossed the street to pick up Johnny for a little impromptu bunny hunt and coffee break with the Bear and his buddies.
"Are you ready for this, sport?" he said.
Johnny stood breathless. John's red convertible was all clean and shiny with a fresh wax job. A large whip antenna was mounted on the rear bumper and on the passenger side near the side view mirror, was a directional hoop antenna that Johnny would be expected to operate for the bunny hunt.
"Your job will be to aim that hoop around when our bunny is talking and watch that meter on the set," he instructed. "When that meter is as far as its going to get on the signal, you tell me what direction the hoop is facing by saying 'one o'clock' or such. Twelve o'clock is straight ahead and six o'clock is straight behind us. You following that?"
"Three o'clock would be right and nine o'clock would be left, correct?" Johnny said, mimicking his tone perfectly.
"You're really spooky sometimes. You know that?" he said, ruffling the boy's hair.
"Ten four, good buddy," Johnny mimicked.
"You need to quit that," he warned, "or I'm going to have to stop the car and look at my wallet to see which of us said that. How can you expect a man to drive the car and follow the conversation if the question in the air is always who said what?"
"Sorry," Johnny said.
"No you're not," he said, swatting him playfully, "You're quite pleased with yourself today. It's your birthday."
In short order, the airwaves filled with chatter as Teddy Bear established where the coffee break would take place, and CBers from all over the city began tracking his signal. Johnny followed directions and gave directions flawlessly, and they were the first carload to track the Bear down at Vic and Irv's just north of Sea Breeze and Durand Park. It was a beautiful summer morning by the lake. A Texas hot and Coke were in order for the boy as he had tracked the Bear down good. He would prove to be an excellent partner in bunny hunts. He made a mental note to sign them up for some of the more sanctioned events when he could. Meeting all the local enthusiasts and their wives was a hit. Johnny ate up all the specialized lingo of the radio world like it was his second language. Before long it was time to get the boy back home for his surprise party. As they pulled up to the house, Leona left the porch to go inside. No doubt it was to tell the others to be ready. The street was unusually quiet for a summer afternoon.
"Well, I'll go park my car and be over in a little bit, okay?" he said.
"I think there's a party," Johnny said with an odd expression. "There's a lot of people here."
"How can you tell?" he asked.
"I like these people," Johnny said. "and I feel them all in one place, right here," the boy said tapping his heart.
"Remind me not to try and sneak up on you," he said. "Have I told you that you're a spooky kid?"
"A couple times today," Johnny said smiling.
Johnny's party was a neighborhood blast. The ever abundant Smith kids brought a record player and a towering stack of 45 rpm records to dance to. Most of the adults sat in the shade of Emma's pear tree while Johnny and Leona danced uninhibitedly in a mix of ethnicities that the United Nations would envy. Mrs. Genovese from next door brought an olive salad and stuffed shells for the spread. Geraldine Smith, with her crowd of children and grandchildren brought army sized portions of fatback, collared greens and cornbread muffins, not to mention the entertainment. The Morales kids brought fried bananas and pasteles. A spread of acorn muffins, miniature meat and potato pies and casseroles and soft drinks, besides the cake and ice cream ensured the steady dancing and socializing would not lack for food and refreshments. The gifts were handed out after the cake and ice cream. As the neighborhood was not especially affluent, John felt a little self conscious about the walkie talkies he had bought for the boy. Next time, he promised himself, he'd give such gifts privately. Still, the spirits were high as one of the Smith girls held up a 45 rpm record that seemed to be significant to the other kids in the crowd and looked to Johnny with a challenge in her eyes and pointed to the disk.
"Can the birthday boy do it again?" she asked before the hushed crowd of kids. Johnny's face broke out in a slow sly smile as he recognized the record.
"Does Howdy Doody got a wooden butt?" Johnny asked with a wicked grin.
"Here we go again," someone yelled from the crowd near the record player. The most heathen sounding drumbeat John had ever heard emerged from the phonograph. Johnny was standing still, with his eyes half shut as muscles started twitching to the rhythm and he gave in to the music.
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