No shirt. No shoes.
Andy Doherty was by no means, a bad kid.
Early in life, the authorities hauled his
balding, overweight, pot-smoking excuse of a father to the state penitentiary for crimes against
The legal files claimed that Andy’s father was a menace to the safety and peace of the
state of Oregon, that he was too dangerous and corruptible to remain in normal society.
did not help that he stabbed a man fourteen times in the chest.
It was over twelve year ago to the day that Andy watched wide-eyed and horrified,
clinging to his favorite Barney stuffed animal for comfort as the imposing men in the blue
uniforms handcuffed Andy’s father and severed their relationship altogether.
There was no
remorse of pity for Rooney Doherty as he wasted away in the Oregon State Penitentiary,
becoming fast friends with famous inmates such as Jerry Budos and Keith Jesperson.
Andy’s mother was a fine upstanding moral citizen of the state of Oregon with a Roman
nose, sagging eyelids, and a slight frame which she covered with modest dress in hues of lilac
purple and mint green.
She went to church every Sunday and hung on every word spoken by
Pastor Thomas at Saint Mary’s Catholic Church.
In her spare time, she enjoyed reading Nicolas
Sparks novels, Mexican food, and growing Marijuana in her back yard.
She appreciated the finer
things in life, like Chardonnay, bubble baths, and a shot of heroin every chance she got.
the parent jackpot; with such a fine upbringing it was difficult to understand why Andy’s fingers
were so sticky.
Unlike his mother or father, Andy loved being outside and traveling.
There was an exotic
world off in the blue horizon that was his for the taking, literally.
As a boy, Andy escaped into
the forest behind his house to avoid beatings by his reclusive father and out-of-control mother.
He sat in the murky backyard mush of his suburban Portland home, hug his knees to his chest
and imagine himself disappearing and becoming part of the lush, green scenery around him.
kicked off his shoes and rooted his toes into the damp, cool earth below him and dream of
rooting himself to this spot forever.
A gypsy spirit, he soon grew tired of his pretend, backyard
adventures and yearned to venture out and see the forests of the rest of the country, maybe even
Never missed at home, he roamed the Oregon woods, living off the berries and native
plants of the forest.
Occasionally, unexpected cold fronts rolled through the rural outskirts of
Portland and it became necessary to pilfer nearby homes for blankets and water.
Andy’s illustrious career as a thief.
The first lift was the most exhilarating.