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Coming of Age Creative Nonfiction Contemporary

“You know, I been here. I remember that bone thing there. And that thing that looks like the ugliest bird you’d ever want to meet. You ever been here before? They got about five, six, oh I don’t know lots of floors of exhibitions. I think I’m going to sit here by the window on this bench. I’ve seen most of what I care to see in life, and I’ll just slow you down. Take the kids and go.”

“You sure Dad? You going to be alright. Need anything?”

“No, stop fussing. Just go. If I get bored, I’ll take a nap.”

“OK, but if you need something call us. You got the phone I got you?”

“Go! Wait, what are all those people doing out there? Some kind of parade today or something.”

“No. From the signs I’d say they are protesting the decision of the Museum Board to not give the Native American artifacts back to the tribes. Don't worry about it, nothing to do with us. If you need something, anything, you call. Mother would never forgive me if something happened to you. You know that don’t you.”

“She’s been dead for almost ten years. Think she’s goin to quit whatever they got her doing after…and worryin about what happens to me? Go, before I get to thinking about the after. I don’t know, you don’t know, nobody knows, but it’s the thinking about what might happen, that makes me crazy. So Go!”

“OK, OK, OK…Going!”

Good God. Can’t get ten minutes to yourself without someone thinking you are going to die on them or something. Nice here, quiet, except for the noise coming through the window. Drums pounding away out there like they are either calling their Sprits or driving them away. Hope they know.

“You mind if I sit here. There are so many people and I just can’t walk anymore. Is it alright?”

“Help yourself, ain’t mine. I’m partial to stuffed chairs.  Got one for Christmas that when you pull the lever the bottom raises up and kind of stands you up like you was a bowling pin or something. You ever see a chair like that?”

I know she heard me, even if she didn't say nothin. I ain’t deaf, so I figured she just didn’t feel like talking. I get like that myself once in a while. Who knows, maybe she can’t hear too good.  My Grace was like that. Sometimes I’d have to bang on a pot to get her to look at me. But then I ain’t the best lookin guy, so! 

She didn’t look deaf, so maybe she was just one of those quiet people. Some people are like that. They feel they ain’t got nothing worth saying, so the don’t talk. But when someone talks to me, I feel obliged to at least talk back.

“I like your shawl.”

Thought I’d throw a stone in the water and see if I’d get an ripples.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, kind of like she was unsure of how to talk to a stranger. The shawl and scarf reminded me of New Mexico, Arizona, the colors; specially the turquoise blue. Kind of makes you think of heaven. But then lately so many things do. 

Then it came to me. Maybe she didn’t speak English too good. It didn’t bother me none. I don’t speak good English myself. My daughter gets embarrassed sometimes when I start talking to her friends, like at a baptism or something. I don’t think it’s because of what I got to say, but then who knows with young people.

“Those people outside, you know anything about that?”

She just looks at me and then says, “Just want to get our bones back.”

I was sitting next to a protester. An old protester, but she looked like she could still raise hell. I could see it in her eyes.

“You think they’re comin in here? I don’t need no trouble. Too old for that kind of thing. I get it though. Protested some myself back when things meant something to me.”

She just kept lookin out the window at the crowd, as if waiting for a sign. Then she leans over towards me and says in the softest voice, “Your shoe’s undone," like my fly was open or somethin.

My shoe was undone? Had to translate that to see if it was important enough to do something about it. I looked at my shoe, and by God she was right. My shoe had come untied. The lace laying there like a coiled-up snake. Her observation could have saved my life probably, should I have had to move fast; thinkin about the mob comin in and all.

I don’t move too good anymore. I kind of know what I can do and what I can’t. My daughter calls it adaptin. To tie my shoe, cause my back is kind of stuck, and my hip is more than kind of stuck, I have to get sittin on the floor to tie my shoes. Well she’s lookin at my shoes, then at me, then at my shoes; then she shakes her head, like she’s disappointed with me. 

I’m too old to be a disappointment, so I get down on my knees and then do this roll over I’ve improved on. I then pull my foot up to me and fumble around for the lace. Trouble with bringing your leg up so you can get at your foot, you can’t see your foot. Anyway, I found the lace and began to go through this other routine I’ve practiced. Just then it started.

The old woman next to me, she stands up and starts beckoning those outside, to come in. Then this guard, his eyes get real big, and he turns and heads for the restroom. They probably weren’t’ payin him for trouble anyway. And then, in comes this gang like a runaway centipede. They filled up the whole lobby. All I could see was knees, shoes, and boots. Lots of these, what we called cowboy boots dancing all around me. I started to get a little worried. Didn’t think they could see me, and there was no way I’m gettin up without me rolling on my knees and then pushin myself up. It takes practice, but I had the practice down pretty good. But then I don’t need to usually get up in a crowd.

Just when I was getting really worried, the phone rings. I hate those things cause I can never remember what button to push, so I don’t answer. Just then all these people over me begin to sit down. Next thing I know there are nothing but heads, cowboy hats, and bandanas, all colors. It looked like a garden with a mushroom stickin up every so often. Nothin to do then, but just sit and wonder what’s next. Then the phone rings again. 

The old woman she’s sittin next to me. Hadn’t noticed her so close, till she started eyeing the phone like it was botherin her. So I give it to her. She wasn’t goin nowhere, so I wasn’t really to worried about her stealin it or anything like that. Then she starts talkin to who, I assumed, was my daughter. She told her I was busy and not to worry. I could have kissed her. Hadn’t been around anything so exciting since this girl run through the gym at the basketball game, naked. People got all upset like it was the worst thing they’d ever seen. I kind of thought it was funny. You just don’t see a lot of naked people at basketball games. Anywhere really.

Then this bunch of blue boys come in. Just cops, but we call them blue boys, well I call them blue boys. We are all sittin cheek to jowl, so we can’t move, they can’t move, so this big blue boy has this speaker machine, and he yells at us, that we are assembling against the law. I hadn’t realized sittin on the floor tying your shoe was breakin the law, but then I couldn’t move, and I never been one much for objecting. But the floor was getting hard and I needed to stand up before the cramps got to my legs. When that happens, I’m all but done. So I raised my hand.

The old lady looks at me like we ain’t in school anymore, so I put it down, no use makin a scene. She smiles and the blue boy keeps yellin, like somehow, it’s goin to make a difference. Then they start pickin people off the floor, and carryin them out the door and putting them on the sidewalk.

By the time they got to me and helped me up, I’d gotten to know the old lady pretty good. She told me I should come to some pow wow thing they was havin on the weekend. She said it wouldn’t be as excitin as sittin on the floor protesting, but she said I looked like the kind of fella that liked dancing. How she knowed that I have no idea, but I was, quite the Jitter Bugger in my time. 

Been a while, but think I’m goin to go out there. Had a better than usual time, sittin in at the museum. God only knows what kind of time I might have at a pow wow. Goin to wear my slip-on boots though. Those maneuvers work, but sometimes its easier to just wear somethin you don’t need to practice wearin. I know my daughters goin to object if I tell her, so I ain’t. Somethings is best kept unsaid. I paid my own fine, so she needn’t worry anyhow.

February 11, 2021 01:18

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