It's not often in the frontier lands to see a child born. I don't know exactly when it happened, but I started to see the little bugger betwixt my infrequent tipples. At first, he was always being carried around, and the noise, oh the noise! There wasn't a single moment around him that wasn't a headache... and I wasn't even trying to approach them in the first place! I could be on the other side of a busy street, down the block, or heading off into the plains and still I would hear the screeching. The whining, the crying.

It got so bad that I would go out of my way to avoid them if I could and plenty a good fellow did the same! Even once the noise died down a bit after a couple of years, I still kept my distance in respect to habit. Do bear in mind, I specifically want to say and emphasize this to you, THE NOISE ONLY DIED DOWN A BIT. It went from being a roaring airplane engine in my ears to a rock concert at about fifty three feet away.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

When he turned seven years old, and I remember this well, he decided that he wanted to know everything about everyone. Somehow he would manage to slip away from his mothers grasp and sneak his way into the tavern. On that day, and I truly have absolutely no idea what led to this situation, he decided to jump up on a table. Normal kid stuff.

But I remember, the room getting quite quiet quickly, and people slowly coming to face him as their friends turned them towards it.

From my view, I managed to see him from the side, and this look of pure anger. Raw, unbridled rage directed towards a man.

"GIVE ME BACK MY DINOSAUR!" He shrieked with the force of a thousand banshees who had all been hit in the groin with the face of another banshee. Chalk on Chalkboard.

End of Part 1