My family had just moved to a new town and we, my brother and I, still didn’t have any friends or know any other kids to play with. We were young kids; perhaps 5 and 6, and we loved to ride around on our cool new bicycles. My bright red bike had a bell that I loved to ring to tell people to get out of my way. Joe, my brother, had a dark green bike that had knobby tires and a blazing orange flag on a bendy pole attached to his banana seat. If you had seen us, you’d have thought we were just silly kids having fun in the sun riding in circles around and around the block. We thought we were cool and that everyone should get out of our way.
The community pool was down at the end of the block and everyone from the town was there cooling off on this hot summer day. Kids were running around chasing each other poolside, big splashes were erupting from the water and adults were showing off their saggy boobs and big bottoms. Screams of delight were heard after every splash and the occasional lifeguard whistle reminded us that some kids tended to be cruel in the pool. We were trying to show off on our bikes and attract the attention of other kids our age so that we could make some friends. Joe was popping wheelies and I was ringing my bell. No one at the pool seemed to care or notice.
For some strange reason my brother, who had just bought a bag of pretty new marbles with his allowance, thought it was a good idea or cool for some reason to ride around that day with one of those marbles in his mouth. I could see the yellow and purple swirled marble clenched between his front teeth every time I passed him as we circled around the block. The effect of the summer sun catching the brilliance of this marble glinting from Joe's mouth made me think that he was a superhero or a magician. Every time I would pass him, the expression on his face looked like the Cheshire cat flashing his toothpaste smile. I thought I was cool, but I knew he was cooler.
So when I came around the block to find him stopped right in front of the community pool fence no longer wearing his broad flashy grin my heart jumped, and I knew something was wrong. I yelled to him as I desperately hurried to ride to his side. He must not have heard me call to him over the sounds coming from the pool area, because he just stood there straddling his bike, feet on the ground with a look of shock on his face. Nearly crashing into his bike, I came skidding to a stop, breathlessly asking him, “Joe, what’s wrong?”
“I swallowed it,” he blankly replied.
“What? You swallowed what?” I screeched.
“I swallowed my marble,” he said with an unblinking far off stare.
Shock, fear, panic and sadness ran through me like a lighting bolt. The world felt suddenly over. Nothing would ever be the same again. My big brother had swallowed a marble. I believed in that split second with all of my heart that he could never be the person that he was, that my hero Joe was ruined. Upon coming to that irrational five year old’s conclusion my heart burst into my throat and animal-like sound exploded from my lungs.
“I WANT A NEW BROTHER!” I wailed at the sky.
Undoubtedly, every person at the pool sure noticed us then.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Betwixt and Between
Fund was a monster. She never gave anything to anybody.
When small things were noticed or not noticed, Fund would most often care less about the larger picture that was associated with these small things. She found herself drawn to any person or place by the obscure details and not the vast panorama. Her gift was to see these details and care about them so much that it hurt. She ached with a desire to know the green that made the water. She ached with a distress to know that the green did not make the water. The longer she looked, the less she saw, and the more she wondered about herself.
A world spinning and spinning, Fund stands on the edge of the inlet marked with waving grasses with yellow tufted seedheads. Unwieldy and weighty, the slender stalks bear the heads with the resignation of a servant. This is a world in motion all around Fund as she is fast asleep on her feet day dreaming, she is rigid in her stance – a wide-awake open-eyed living corpse. It must be the salty air on her unblinking eyes that makes pure water flow down the valley of the nose and cheek, making its way past the western inlet of the mouth, over the tiny hill of a chin, finally falling off the edge of the world. Servants lift their heads to the rain of tears and the spinning sky only to taste the salt.
Fund tried to figure out what her purpose was in this world. To her, it is something that is all consuming. You have to take space to think about the next step and assess what you’ve been doing…take a step back. Read what you’ve done and try to make sense of its purpose in the world. Try and understand why you do what you do for the sake of humanity and yourself. But she felt that her purpose might be too small. She enjoyed being appreciated. She enjoyed being hurt and called names. She felt she lost her ability to love or be loved and that space was now filled with the need for deviance and gasoline. Instincts can be right just as well as they can be wrong, so to trusting them is a crap shoot. Nonetheless, she felt this one was it.
When small things were noticed or not noticed, Fund would most often care less about the larger picture that was associated with these small things. She found herself drawn to any person or place by the obscure details and not the vast panorama. Her gift was to see these details and care about them so much that it hurt. She ached with a desire to know the green that made the water. She ached with a distress to know that the green did not make the water. The longer she looked, the less she saw, and the more she wondered about herself.
A world spinning and spinning, Fund stands on the edge of the inlet marked with waving grasses with yellow tufted seedheads. Unwieldy and weighty, the slender stalks bear the heads with the resignation of a servant. This is a world in motion all around Fund as she is fast asleep on her feet day dreaming, she is rigid in her stance – a wide-awake open-eyed living corpse. It must be the salty air on her unblinking eyes that makes pure water flow down the valley of the nose and cheek, making its way past the western inlet of the mouth, over the tiny hill of a chin, finally falling off the edge of the world. Servants lift their heads to the rain of tears and the spinning sky only to taste the salt.
Fund tried to figure out what her purpose was in this world. To her, it is something that is all consuming. You have to take space to think about the next step and assess what you’ve been doing…take a step back. Read what you’ve done and try to make sense of its purpose in the world. Try and understand why you do what you do for the sake of humanity and yourself. But she felt that her purpose might be too small. She enjoyed being appreciated. She enjoyed being hurt and called names. She felt she lost her ability to love or be loved and that space was now filled with the need for deviance and gasoline. Instincts can be right just as well as they can be wrong, so to trusting them is a crap shoot. Nonetheless, she felt this one was it.
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