The Extinction Event
“Bucky Seed, the grandson of the original owner, was in his seventies, a spry, wiry bantamweight with faded tattoos covering both arms. Every day, he scavenged in the municipal trash cans. If you had an old box spring or refrigerator the town garbage collector wouldn’t pick up, Bucky would load it on his pickup for anywhere from five to fifteen dollars and add it to his collection. The lot, which under Bucky’s grandfather and father had been a garage and auto body shop, was now a junkyard. Behin...d the old garage, which hadn’t been used for that purpose for thirty years, since Bucky’s dad died, was a collection of old cars, motors shot, shattered windows, floors rusted out.
For a few years in the early eighties when Bucky, never married, inherited the place, he held nightly games of Magick, a sword-and-sorcery card game, which attracted the area’s oddball teenagers, who, walking to the lot in their inevitable ankle-length coats, looked like big, ambulatory bats. The second time kids were busted for smoking dope at his place Bucky disbanded the games, which parents had objected to, assuming more than cards and marijuana were involved in Bucky’s nights.MoreLess
For a few years in the early eighties when Bucky, never married, inherited the place, he held nightly games of Magick, a sword-and-sorcery card game, which attracted the area’s oddball teenagers, who, walking to the lot in their inevitable ankle-length coats, looked like big, ambulatory bats. The second time kids were busted for smoking dope at his place Bucky disbanded the games, which parents had objected to, assuming more than cards and marijuana were involved in Bucky’s nights.MoreLess
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