The other day I was at the local feed store and Clem,
one of the locals, a yellow toothed leathery old farmer,
was sitting by the wood stove telling one of his
stories. There were a few other patrons there when Clem
got up to buy a package of chewing tobacco. "It's for
the moles," he said to the proprietor for no particular
reason.
"Moles?" One of the patrons piped up.
"Yea, it kills `em," Clem turned and said.
"Well how do you get them to eat it?" The patron
inquired and the rest of us guffawed.
"That's a good question," Clem said, taking a pinch of
tobacco out of the bag. "You get them hooked when
they're teenagers." Then he placed the pinch between his
cheek and gum.
I looked around at the other patrons and we all
snickered at the comment.
"Sure," one of the other patrons said. "Moles chewing
tobacco. Ya got another whopper for us Clem?"
"It's true," Clem said and he proceeded to unravel a
yarn bigger than most. "Ya see, moles are a lot like
people. They buy and sell, build and tear down, and
raise little moles just like people do. There are whole
little mole cities down there, and we people never see
them."
A couple of the patrons seemed to show a little
disinterest but that didn't seem to bother Clem. "As a
farmer I just put the tabacci down the top of one of the
holes. Moles don't use money like you and me. They use
dirt. Good dirt is worth more than all the tea in China
to a mole, cause that's what brings the worms in. And it
takes a lot of worms to feed a mole."
The disinterested patrons started listening again.
"It's important for the moles to have access to the top
of the holes. That's where the rich moles come in. They
decide who gets to go to the top and who stays down. If
you're somebody, as a mole, you've been to the top of a
hole, and you get to tell your kinfolk all about it.
It takes a little bravery to go to the top of a hole.
Strange things have been known to happen there.
Sometimes a mole just doesn't come back. No one knows
why, for sure. It's the great big goblin monster, with
stealth and claws, that will wait silently till a mole
pops its head out. In other parts of the mole world,
some say it's a big animal that digs, grunts and barks
and will pursue the mole, sometimes catching him and
always wrecking the top of the hole. So it's not hard to
imagine that anything from the top of the hole is
mysterious and valued by mole culture and is worth a lot
of dirt.
That's where the tobacci comes in. I place it in the top
of the hole and sure enough, you can bet, some mole is
going to find it and bring it back and sell it to a rich
mole for a lot of dirt.
It's not hard to imagine something this mysterious from
the top of the hole creates a lot of interest to all the
moles in mole land. At first they thought it had magical
powers and would sit around and try it at ceremonial
gatherings. As time passed and the moles became more
civilized it became fashionable to be seen trying
tobacci. It wasn't uncommon for moles to idolize famous
moles chewing on tobacco. Sure enough kids wanted to try
it because it was a sign of maturity and sophistication
and if your friends were doing it you had to too, to be
cool. Before they knew it they got hooked.
Well you can imagine what affect this has on the mole
population. After a while moles start dying. Some loose
their teeth and gums and can't eat. Don't make no
difference to me if they're dead or they can't eat.
Don't hurt my crops either way.
The tobacci trade in mole land is controlled by the rich
moles. They buy up every bit making the hole top
explorers rich in dirt and then they repackage the
tobacci and sell it to the young moles full knowing what
it will do to their health. There's some awful gosh darn
legal battles going on down there right now over the
health of tobacco."
"Oh come on Clem." One of the younger patrons sounded
up. "You ever gonna tell it straight. That's just an
awful gosh darn bunch of hooey. Bill give me a pack of
Marlboros," the patron said to the store keep, ordering
a pack of cigarettes.
"Never mind that," Clem said. "I think you ought to be
buying some chewing tobacci. I hear tell you only got
thirty bushels an acre out of that bottom land last
year."
"Maybe so," the young patron said as he opened the pack
of cigarettes and pulled one out. "It's not because of
no moles." He placed the cigarette in his mouth and
struck a match on the wood stove.
"Steve, you know you can't smoke in here," the store's
proprietor jumped in. "There's a new state law not
lettin you smoke inside of stores anymore. You ought to
buy some chewing tobacco like Clem," he went on.
"No thanks," Steve, the younger patron said. "I gotta go
give one of these cigarettes to my dog. It kills the
worms."
THE END
copyright 2000 Ken Bushnell
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