Right As Ralph
Jon Kuntz
I knew enough to tell when Ralph was feeling all right or when he was hurting. Jack Daniels was on the pantry shelf and the fruit jar of whiskey was absent. He told me he only drank on two occasions: When he was feeling down, and when he was feeling up. He always said he didn’t want to waste good whiskey on a downer. I asked him if he didn’t make it by his downer one time, could I finish off Jack? He gave me a look like he was chawin’ on rattlesnake toe nails. No, Sir, it was not a good look.
Ralph was a spare rib who was always moving, even when he stood still. Everyone in town thought he worked, but no one really knew where. Even if he weren’t working, he cleaned up real good for the Saturday Evening Socials. He had a fantastic voice for singing, although it did tend to fall off if he needed it for straightening up some Joe cowboy trying to make trouble. On the other hand, I did see him use his voice on a cuss one night that would have shattered the last nerve leaving on the Reading&Susquehanna providing he had any nerves left. That feller just came apart at the seams, but I knew Ralph was only singing in his own way without the music. He could mess up your head that way.
The band would have Ralph sing a series of songs every Saturday, and even though they offered, he would never take a job with them. Said he was too busy to be doing too much more music. Also, you’d have to consider he only knew two types of songs.
Ralph would get mad, but it took him a long time. If you wanted to get to him, you could do it, but I just can’t think of a reason you’d want to. You’d do best to keep track of where you were with Jack.
I saw him one day with the mechanic at Beeson’s Auto Shop. That was in the days that we only had three pickup trucks in America. And if you drove one, you didn’t try to push yours out like it was the only good one, it just wasn’t done.
I was coming home one day and passing Beeson’s when I saw Ralph punch their mechanic. Our town is kinda’ set up where if you don’t want trouble that isn’t yours, then you don’t stick your nose in someone else’s. So I drove by, but later on got the story of what happened. The mechanic told Ralph he didn’t have a radiator part for his Ford but could get a part off a chevy and use it. That right there would have been good but, the guy went on to say the Chevy part would add value to his Ford. Ralph didn’t say anything but just looked at him. After the part was put on and Ralph paid the bill, he gave the mechanic a roundhouse on the way out. That’s what I saw.
Everyone understood that. Ralph was pushed into a position where he had to react. He was left no choice and had to strike back. I think the mechanic figured it out, also.
There wasn’t a woman, kid, or dog in town that didn’t like Ralph. He customarily carried lolli-pops for the kids and milk bones for the pets. Even so, they all knew to leave him be if he was feelin’ low. Even the Sheriff figured that one out. A number of years ago he had a cell built on the back of the office. He got a special allowance to do it. Who does he pick to be his first lockup? Yep. Ralph, on a disorderly charge.
In the wee hours of the morning, there came about the biggest explosion you could ever hope to hear without angels being part of it. It was louder than thunder and it ran from one ridge peak covered in snow and ice, across the valley to the other ridge. Anyone who slept through that crescendo had to be dead. It wasn’t long before everybody in and around town was congregating to find out what happened. It turned out that the back of the Sheriff’s building, with the newly attached jail was completely gone. Vaporized would be a better word here, because there was no sign of brick, steel, concrete, or any substantial part of the addition or cell. I was wondered just a little bit if Ralph got vaporized along with the jail. I didn’t need to worry that much because Ralph did have good luck pertinear all the time. As it turned out, he was home in bed sleeping away while the rest of us were trying to figure out what happened to the jail. If we wanted an explanation as to what happened, I’m afraid none was forthcoming. There were some casual references to a gas leak but nothing to back it up. One thing for sure was the Sheriff was not happy with Ralph since that time. His face would get a restrained look to it every time he came across Ralph. He never did say a thing, though.
I was trying to get home on the valley road one night, because it didn’t usually get a hard freeze the way the more popular ridge roads did. I guess everyone else had the same idea, because it looked like a prayer meeting on the right-of-way past Cherry Creek. I stopped because I couldn’t go any further. I looked and there was Ralph in a hot discussion with an eighteen-driver who looked like all he was interested in was finding a honky tonk angel and settling in for the weekend.
“I’m trying to get home for a few hours sleep, and I need to get through. Is there an accident, is anyone hurt, do we need the medics?” The Driver was asking Ralph.
Everyone’s attention fell on Ralph. You can picture it if you try. About 20 some people standing on the roadway on a dark winter night. The mountain ridges boxed in everyone and held back any ground light. The stars above were fierce. Instead of white stars, we had the blackest of velvet spaces interrupting a white background of the night. It even sounds strange talking about it, but it was like white and black trading colors.
This is the setting in which Ralph started to speak. Ralph told of his coming over the hill and seeing the luxury car and the boy hanging on its door. The man was trying to push the boy away so he could drive off. He didn’t admit hitting the dog, he said it ran out in front of his car, and he didn’t have time to stop. In fact, no one could have, he asserted. This was how the other drivers came on the situation, also.
Ralph stood on that cold dark highway, the kind of cold that echoed every sound for miles around, and he began speaking in his basso tones that would chase each other along in a resonance, like a marble chaser that had splitter rails and side wheels, dropping their apportioned kind with every consideration given to a doppler effect for every chord returned, and a tremolo too. And dang if he didn’t have the audience.
Ralph explained to the drivers how the boy’s dog got hit. There were ooh’s and aah’s. He explained how he had seen the boy holding the man from driving away because he needed to get help for his dog. People began to move in on this offender of children and puppies. There were more audible expressions. Ralph told the crowd the man was trying to leave before anybody else came, which is what happened when Ralph came on the scene. The crowd’s sentiments were beginning to get nasty. There were some references to possible physical damage being done to the rich man and his expensive car. The crowd was compressing even more to where the offender was somewhat squashed against his car door. Ralph added an octave swing for the summation. He told the crowd how the scoundrel was going to leave a 12 year old boy all alone with a wounded dog that he maimed and no resources to help. The boy hadn’t put a jacket on when he ran out the back door trying to catch his dog. The dog was too big for the boy to carry anywhere and he wouldn’t leave him lying along the road to die alone. He had too much character for that. The vet was about a mile down the road but he couldn’t manage that for the same reasons.
The crowd was murmuring very maliciously. In fact sounds of slaps could be heard along with what were probable punches into the big fur winter coat the gentleman was wearing. He was asking for Ralph. Ralph came over and listened while the man talked. The he turned and addressed the crowd.
Folks, “Our man with the fancy car, on behalf of reviewing the evening events, and in keeping with everyone’s requirements to go onward tonight, has rethought the situation. He feels he may have acted too hastily in his resolution of the problem with the dog. He has $500 cash he’s going to give to the vet for the treatment of the dog.”
There were some sounds of approval.
“He said the vet could mail him the balance.”
The man started to shake his head and hands in fiercely alternating gyrations showing a reiterating negative slant to be put on the current interpretation of the disposition of any excess funds at the vets.
Ralph interjected, “The gentleman says any surplus funds be given to the boy for his trouble.”
This calmed the crowd a bit, but they were leery I can tell you that.
Ralph got the attention of the crowd again, “Here’s what we’re going to do ladies and gentlemen. We’re taking the boy home to get his jacket and tell his parents what’s happening. Then we’re going down the hill to the vets and leave the dog with him. He’ll get the money tonight. Then we’re taking the boy home. If there are any complications, the man gave me his contact information. So let’s go.”
It was really a sight to see: seven pickups, four SUVs, three cars and an eighteen wheeler turning into one line to go up the hill, turning out of the boy’s house and going down the hill, waiting in line on the roadway until everything was settled with the vet, then turning around to go up the hill to the boy’s house, coming out of there and taking to the road once more.
So I hope you understand reverend, I can’t really make a speech about Ralph at his funeral. I just didn’t know him that well.
