Hey! Remember Me?

    Hey! Remember me? I have to wonder sometimes. I used to go to the park, sit on a bench and watch the ducks go by. When there were no ducks, I’d talk to you. Rememberin me now? I’m the guy who used to talk to you when I was younger about we bein so poor that I had only one boot. Had to share with my brother. I used to try to offer up the pain, frozen feet, fingers, ears, or some kind of thermia they called it, when you start to shake, and can’t quit til someone slaps you with a hockey stick.

    But that ain’t why I come to the park to talk to you about. I don’t really know where to begin, so I’ll start at the beginning. Hear that’s a good place to begin. Sister Amos, she believes in startin at the beginnin, and if it’s good enough for her, it’s probably good enough for you, as she never tires of tellin us how she is your representative here on earth, or at least here at Saint Jezebels.

    I want to talk with you about what is goin on down here. There seems to be a loss of civility. I think that’s the right word for what’s goin on. It’s people not payin attention to the rules. Not just the rules of the road, the golden rule, you know, those kind of rules, but the rules we used to hold as self-evident; where most of us was created equal, at least in our own neighborhoods. I don’t know how long its been goin on, but it seems like for a while now. I’d ask you to do something about it, but I don’t really think there is much you can do. You know how people is.

    Anyway, been sittin on the bench for a while, nice day, above zero they say, got two pairs of socks on, so my bootless foot ain’t too bad off yet. Something about when your breath turns to ice and falls on the frozen walk that’s almost shoveled, and breaks into a thousand pieces, you know your words got to be meanin somethin. I don’t know if they mean much to you, but then why should they really. You probably hear all kinds of stuff that would turn a parochial girl nun-ish, if you know what I mean.

    But what I really come to talk to you about is Horace, my brother. Yah, that Horace. I know he ain’t much, but he’s the only brother I got, family really, since the folks left us after that big crash in 2018. You know the one just off the interstate by Hoosegow Ridge. Some eighteen-wheeler decided to make a U turn on the median, but ended up makin a full circle and goin the wrong way down the interstate. That’s where they suspects he met our folks. They was hitchin to town for fish night, bein Friday, and well, we never saw them again. Only explanation the welfare people could come up with.

    No one could find them after that. Still don’t know if they was disintegrated in the fiery crash, or they made a run for it, being they was wanted for bein part of the Oxy explosion that killed off half the eastern seaboard. They claimed during the trial they thought they was delivering those breath mint things they claimed could cure cancerous delusions. Only eleven of the jury didn’t believe them. Lisa May, dads first wife couldn’t believe he’d do something to hurt anyone, so she wouldn’t budge; hung jury. I think that’s where Horace hot his grit from.

    We ain’t natural brothers you know. Different mothers, different fathers, so we got to look out for one another. We was kind of born under the lightnin and thunder of subjective illusion.  It left us in a place where seein the other side of an argument before you decide, makes things worse. Kind of like takin a horse to water, and findin out you can’t make him think!  It was the boot thing that kind of broke us up, changing horse, that kind of thing. Before that we was close. 

    Now I don’t mind sharing my boot with my brother, but him being left-handed and nearly blind,(mixin remedies) can’t get it through his head that havin one boot ain’t the end of the world, but having to wear the right boot on the left foot, just because you are optimistic, is. He says it makes him feel more balanced. I tried to tell him it don’t do nothing for me except make me fall down a lot. So that’s why I wanted to talk to you.

     I know that you can influence people, sometimes even for their own good. Like warning those people about bein turned to salt blocks, those cow lick things, if they looked after you warned them not to, that was on them. You gave them a heads up, a head start, and them failing you ain’t no bodies fault but their own. I know about curiosity and the cat, but you see Horace has cat tendencies, and that’s what worries me. 

    I’d kind of like you to maybe do the same for Horace, if you got the time. Not to turn him into a salt lick, but perhaps warn him that often when we disregard conformity, we not only get blisters from going against the grain, but we tend to bend in a direction we later can’t unbend from. You see, I’m worried his rebellious nature may permanently scar his outlook, on the possibility he will someday amount to something.

    I’ve tried to get him to see that being poor, in our case having not enough to fortify our out of doors experience to the point of enjoyment, but also, although looked upon as having only half of what it takes to succeed, we are destined to follow in the path of our missing parents, and one day simply disappear.

    Horace just laughs, as if being an upstanding member of the community, no matter our financial situation, is an impediment to his independence. I need you to talk to him. Explain the intricacies of social status, and perhaps repeat the lesson of the salt blocks, as obedience to conformity seems in his case, to be lacking.

    All I’ve ever wanted for him was to fit in, be a part of a system which not only will nourish him, but give him a direction that will aid not only him, but me as well. If you would just suggest to him that beginning with the wearing of the one boot on the correct foot, would be a step in the right direction. If he were able to alter his perspective on conformity and change, I would gladly give him the other boot so that he would see how it feels to be part of something. Something that does not laugh or ridicule him for his eccentricities.

    I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention me talking with you to Horace. He got it in his head that what is said between us, should stay between us, and not be spread all over town. He don’t mind bein ridiculed, but embarrassment, now that’s a different story. But if you could give me a sign, something so I’d know you was hearin my askin, and might be considerin takin some kind of action on Horace’s behalf.

    Well, got to be goin. My foot, I feel it turnin blue. If’n I wait too long it begins to burn like, and I can’t sleep. So God, any chance you would be hearin my case anytime soon as it is getting to be time sensitive, if you know what I mean.

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    I started feelin kind of funny, lighter somehow. Next thing I sees myself sittin on the bench, foot turnin blue, eye lids frosted like, an ice cycle kind of hanging from my nose. It kind of scared me. I have to admit I ain’t feelin cold no more. More like I feel that breeze the graphic channel talks about comin off the islands ocean. It didn’t take but a minute for me to realize all the consternation about boots was really a waste of time, but then again I didn’t have an inklin time was so important. I had nothin but for as long as I could remember, and then…

   Now I sees myself sittin on the bench lookin like a guy I used to know, and this long haired hippy lookin guy sittin next to me smilin like he fixed everything, and all it took was me leavin. Don’t know why I didn’t think of that.

    I sees that I is no longer needin a boot, kind of like the good book says, kills two birds with one stone. Horace now got two boots and a chance at bein somebody. Me I get to sit here next to this guy who seems to glow a bit more than I think is probably good for someone, but all in all, the island breeze is makin me feel that if Horace can figure out which foot belongs to which boot, it will all have been worth it.

   “Thanks God! Thanks an awful lot.” 

    I guess I scared with that glowin guy next to me, cause he jumps up like he’d just been awakened by a thunder clap, takes one look at me, like I’ve been invisible all this time, and says, “Goin Down?” as the wind seems to shift like it’s blowin in off the desert in that place the graphics channel calls the Unified Airubs Emirats. Don’t know if I’d like it there, nobody wearin boots.