Chapter 4

Timepiece: 4.

"You know that country song? We couldn't find it there so we moved on.."

"Country song? What's that?" I was mystified. Country songs were all about marching and taking up arms against this invader or that usurper. Country songs were about war and glory, national honor and personal duty.

"C'mon, boy. Leave us get you edge-ah-ma-cated," Wendy said.

She grabbed my arm and looked up the hill, "Up and over or around?"

"The last up and over did me in ... around, please," I suggested.

"Wimp," Wendy said.

The back side of Old Baldy valley lets out on US31 and 31 is the main drag of Pentwater. 31 is also Hancock Street.

I suppose I had better get used to this being Michigan and not the New France Province of Detroit ... that's Deh'twah. When we arrived yesterday late I didn't really recognize ... exactly ... where we were. It didn't look at all like my Pentwater ... the Pentwater that was named after the indian canoe battle the left the water stained red with the blood of the losers. This Pentwater had brick buildings and a bar.

The Antler.

The Antler was located next to the real-estate office south of the village green.

The Village green in MY Pentwater is a set of ruined foundations from the fire set by the British ... which is the biggest reason my Pentwater has the alarm tower north of the channel. And there is no Antler bar. Bars serve liquor ... the French serve wine.

I am not French. I'm American ... not British. I live in Detroit because I fled my indenturement.

My indentures? Typical youthful high jinks and as typical of most kids ... no matter how badly I wanted to think so? I wasn't as smart as I thought and got caught. I did have a choice though. Indenture myself ... or join the Navy. I learned computers ... but the simple idea that I was born in America ... an America still a colony ... bothered me and I took off. New France.

The Antler: Frank, and Ernie, Proprietors. Frank ran the front one day and Ernie cooked; the next day Ernie ran the front and Frank cooked.

Wendy was famous; she had her own sandwich. A bun bottom fried on the grill, mayo, pickle, slice of sharp cheddar, meat(dripping) two slices of bacon, fresh spinach, bun top from the grill, toothpick with an olive; Heaven!

The Antler had music ... a Zodiac jukebox by Wurlitzer ... back in the corner by the bandstand. One thing for sure, you can't march to that music ... but you can dance ... well ... Wendy could.

I have never in my life seen such suggestive moves ... unless it was horizontally and between the sheets.

During the day time, the Antler is high school kids ... dancing to the Wurlitzer ... constantly. Hamburgers, french fries, soda and expended energy. These kids are either townies or vacationers ... summer residents, bicyclers or campers. Some of the bicyclers are touring and camping at the Mears State Park.