It's the Thursday Thirteen, which concept I'm biting from Maven, and you can just go ask her where she got it, because I don't know.

A brief preface: My boyfriend the Keelhauler (see illustration) is a wealth of entertaining tales, frequently involving blood, storms, or strippers. Here are thirteen of his most popular stories, in capsule form.

Illustration

1. The Shot Heard 'Round the Tract House-- 1985. A small town in Wisconsin. The Keelhauler and his brother Ralphie are visiting a cousin. Unsupervised by parents, Ralphie is examining a .22, which goes off and sends a bullet into the Keelhauler's leg. Panic ensues, during which the cousin instructs the Keelhauler to go sit on the bathtub, so as not to bleed on the rug. The resulting surgery leaves giant, manly scars on the Keelhauler's calf, but fails to remove the bullet, which remains lodged inside. If you touch his calf, you can feel the bullet there, but you are not allowed to touch his calf, because he is my boyfriend, beyotches, hear? And I am a jealous, jealous, crazy motherfucker. I'll cut you!
2. Sukiyaki... To Go--Following a hard day's work on the Mississippi, the Keelhauler and his towboater hoodlum friends headed downtown to Nicolette Avenue for a beer and some Monday Night Football. One of the frat jock patrons began harassing a Japanese chef, there with several of his coworkers from the Benihana across the street. The Keelhauler watched as the Japanese chef punched the jock once in the stomach and took off. The jock doubled over and slowly crumpled to the ground. Moments later, blood began to seep onto the jock's shirt in a widening circle, and the Keelhauler realized the jock had been stabbed. He ran over and, in a display of manliness, took off his shirt to place over the victim, who was going into shock. The jock was hauled away in an ambulance, with 19 stab wounds in the stomach and chest. As is true in many of the Keelhauler's stories, we never learn how the victim fared. Let's imagine that he grew up to be president of General Motors.
3. And the Winner Is...-- Here's a nice story that doesn't involve blood: One day in Mrs. French's fourth grade class, each student was presented an award for some trait or accomplishment. The Keelhauler won "Cutest Smile."
4. Flashback to Dresden-- Growing up in a small midwestern town afforded the Keelhauler many opportunities to work at unfulfilling jobs, and in most ways, his time at the gas station was no different. One night, an elderly gentleman drove in to use the car wash, but panicked as soon as the brushes began to roll, and hopped out of his car, huddled screaming against the wall. The Keelhauler, displaying a cool head and instinct for humanitarian acts, rescued the man and then drove his car out of the wash, pausing to ensure that the hot wax had dried to a glassy finish.
5. Neptune's Wrath-- Hired to pilot a 30-foot sailboat around Point Conception (the roughest spot on the California coast), the Keelhauler set out with the boat's owner, who immediately became incapacitated by seasickness. Twenty-foot seas and winds of 30 - 40 knots shook up the fuel tanks of the boat, clogging the filter, which put the engine out of order. When the wind shut off, the boat rode the giant waves closer and closer to shore, necessitating an anchor drop, at which point the Keelhauler learned that the previous owner had taken the anchor with him. A brief tow by the Coast Guard brought the boat to Port San Luis, a tiny place with no marine supply store. As luck would have it, the Keelhauler ran into a passing acquaintance, who drove him into town to get new fuel filters. All ended well, and the experience reinforced the Keelhauler's belief in befriending everyone on earth who owns a boat, so there'll always be someone to help him out of a jam.
6. Over the Falls-- Like so many Keelhauler stories, this takes place on the Mississippi. It was a zero-degree winter night, and the Keelhauler was out at the front of a towboat pushing two barges, about 400 feet ahead of the pilot house of the boat. Approaching the lock at Upper St. Anthony Falls, he turned back to look at the boat, and saw nothing. The lights were all out, signifying a power failure, meaning that the steering had also gone out. Upper St. Anthony Falls features a drop of around 50 feet, followed by a stretch of water and another waterfall--Lower St. Anthony Falls--further down. The barge being covered with ice, it was too dangerous for the Keelhauler to run back to the pilot house, so as the vessel slid toward the falls, he laughed in Death's gaping maw and lashed himself to the barge. At the last possible second, another deckhand got the generator started, and the captain swung the vessel into the lock. Just another manly day on the River. Later, the crew all went out for Coors Lite and heroin.
7. The Victim Whisperer-- One evening, the Keelhauler came upon the intersection of Lake and Park, in Minneapolis, where an accident had just taken place. A Suzuki Samurai lay in the middle of the street, on its passenger side. The driver, still strapped in, was a young Mexican kid who was (as is common in Keelhauler stories) going into shock and bleeding from the ear. The Keelhauler reached in and supported the kid's head, and as he explains it, "For want of a better word, I just... patted him, to calm him down." Patted him like a frightened baby deer, is how I imagine it, crooning in a soothing voice, possibly using broken Spanish, that everything would truly be all right. "No worresas, amigo... el Keelhauler esta aqui."
8. How Many Fingers am I Holding Up?-- The Mississippi River, as has been amply illustrated by authors greater than I (ha ha ha! as if!), is a wild and dangerous mistress. The men who work the towboats, pushing grain and coal up and down from New Orleans to... I don't know, somewhere else, somewhere further north... are wild and dangerous, as well. Training in new deckhands is rough business, and many green guys quit after the first day, unable or unwilling to meet the challenge. One day, a new deckhand was charged with the task of tightening one of the giant turnbuckles used to lash the barges together. As he worked, a thick metal cable snapped and took off three of his fingers. An ambulance was called to carry him away, and as the towboat headed to the port where the victim would be removed, the Keelhauler picked up the strewn fingers and placed them in the breast pocket of his own shirt. Ostensibly, the victim was in shock and could not retrieve his own fingers. I don't recall the Keelhauler telling me that he turned over the fingers to anyone. I should ask him where they went.

I realize that my list doesn�t comprise thirteen items, but it took me all day to get the stories straight from the horse�s mouth, as it were. So, we�re going to call this a Keelhauler�s Dozen. It�s like a Baker�s Dozen, only five fewer. Yes. It�s a new thing. You�ll get used to it.

Star of the day. . .Death and Wolf, the Larsen Boys