dmseay

and he drove ‘cross America in a manic state…behind the wheel of an old mint green Dodge he’d bought from a priest…it was a good deal…priests never lie…

got it for $500 and one holy sacrement…God only knows what unholy things would take place in it…the running into America in search of love…lust…carnal knowledge…six packs and twelve packs and twenty-four cases…in cities like Chicago…New York…D.C. …Philly…parked under street lights listening to jazz on the local public radio stations while cigarette smoke fills the air and bums walk by askin’…, do you have a light…could you spare one…I’m very hungry…how ’bout a buck or two…

and he gives and gives and gives til he can’t give no more…’cause that’s what Jesus would do…so he follows the commandments right down to a tee…sharing his wine and bread with those who need…wine and bread…the hungry…the drunks…the poor…those that chose other options than the straight path…knowing that these are the people…God’s chosen people…taking them into his arms and comforting them from a world that mocks and hisses at them as they walk down the street…for these are the ones that need love most…

so he drives past cornfields in Indiana…Illinois…past power plants in states where it would seem as though God gave up on the people…brown cornfields…crops shrinking…begging for rain in the hot Summer sun as children sell newspapers on street corners of small town America and moms make cornbread in black iron skillets with bacon drippings and a hamhock split four different ways…every little bit is eaten and no-body dares to ask for more…

then he goes into the South…Texas…Arkansas…Mississippi…sweet smells of alfalfa linger in the air while poor Mexicans pick and pull cotton with their shirts off as sweat rolls from their brown skin…women at home making tortillas…tamales…beans and rice…making the most of America…the land of the plentiful…a place where dreams come true…

his journey will never end…an on-slaught of feeding the poor…clothing the naked…praying with sinners in the streets…the fields…backroads…on mountain tops reaching to a father who knows best…and knows the souls of us all…in a land called America…

she wanted to be a cheerleader…kind ya see on TV with short shorts and high boots dancin’ on the 50 yard line at half time…makin’ men whistle and carry-on like wild savages set loose in the woods for the first time…hoopin’ and a hollerin’…yellin’ out profanities…she wanted that…

and she’d flip ’round the channels every Sunday to see ’em…blondes and brunettes with deep cleavage and their hair styled just right…smilin’…always smilin’…she wished she could smile…

was a cheerleader in high school…dated a football star who was the father of her child…got pregnant in the winter after her senior year…didn’t listen to reason…mom and dad told her to give it up for adoption…said she didn’t know what to do with a baby…the raisin’ of a child…just wouldn’t listen…

so she took off one night…had some money saved from workin’ at the DQ…not much…just ‘nough to make her way to Dallas…she had dreams…

and she gotta job at ‘nother fast food place…Big Earl’s Barbeque out on Henry Hines Blvd…told everybody back home that the job was just temporary…get her through the rough times…till she had the kid…they didn’t know what to believe…

she’d eat barbeque every night…worried ’bout her weight but the kid inside demanded more…so…she ate and ate and ate ’til she was ready to pop…and one night she did…

had the child in September at the start of football season…a little girl she named Riley…decked her out in a little Cowboys cheerleader out fit…she was proud of her darlin’…wanted her to grow up to be somethin’ special…special…

those dreams she had of bein’ a cheerleader were startin’ to fade with every pound she put on…she’d hide her pain in piles of barbeque…French fries…and large chocolate shakes…baby’d be in bed asleep and she’d stay up watchin’ the Monday night games just a weepin’ and ballin’…blamin’ herself for her dreams gone wrong…all wrong…

you can still catch her every lunch hour at Big Earl’s Barbeque…servin’ up the finest tomato based Texas que in town…she’d hide out by the dumpsters with the Mexicans smokin’ cigarettes…after her shift…one of ’em boys asked her to marry him…bought her a ring and everything…promised her the world…

she said no…she’d given up on her dreams…given up on cheerleadin’…given up on bein’ loved…

everything she did was top secret…kept her mouth closed ’bout it all…how she made her money…habits…lovers…kept a bottle of vodka ‘hind the toilet in the downstairs bathroom…thought no-one knew ’bout it…that’s what she thought…

and if you’d confront her with anything she’d deny it…could spy on her smokin’ a cigarette every mornin’ out in the garage…don’t know what she was thinkin’…smell stayed on her for the longest of time…said she didn’t…but she did…

all these strange men would drop her off at night…past one o’clock in the mornin’…men with pick-up trucks and old Chevy’s…wearin’ cowboy hats…you could make out their outlines in the dark…wouldn’t walk her up to the front porch…doubt if she’d let ’em…

then she’d be gone all day…followed her one time…goin’ on these long walks through town and out to the edge of the county where she’d stop at a tavern…looked twice ‘fore she entered the place…I waited for her outside in the brush…hiding behind tall elms and thick oaks…wantin’ to see what she was up to…

stayed in there a good long time…couldn’t see inside…the red neon blinking was blinding…kept for hours out there just waitin’…wantin’ to catch her in the act…never did…wake up in the early hours of the mornin’ with the birds chirpin’ and the sun on the rise…parkin’ lot empty…and my baby girl gone…she was always gone…

used to go out to the pond and feed catfish…watch ’em jump for pebbles of food…swim up to the top and then dive back down into the green water…a hundred little fish gettin’ outta the way…

and there was this one albino catfish…pure white…even his horns were white…he kept mostly to himself…swam in circles…waitin’ for the rest of ’em to stop their feedin’ frenzy…he was the most patient fish I’ve ever seen…stayed below the surface…waitin’ for the kitty chow to drop deeper into the water…it was as if he asked to be fed…didn’t demand it…his calm composure was soothin’…

so I watched the catfish…and the hand-sized blue-gills swim ’til the sun went down onna hot summer night with the glowin’ moon startin’ to appear and the frogs beginnin’ to croak…cicadas singin’ out songs of praise…

and for once I felt at peace…

the old man used to drive through town…past the Rialto movie theater on Calhoun…go by bars where he used to drink at ’til the wee hours back in his youth…over at the mall he’d park on cool Fall nights and listen to jazz on the local public radio station…just long ‘nough to calm him down…then he’d get back to drivin’…out into the county where corn fields were startin’ to look brown….and old barns stood with chipped away paints of red…gray…and white…

he’d go out to the interstate and let her fly…gettin’ the old Ford up to 75…80…while headlights beamed and orange cigarette butts danced cross the road…sometimes pop would drive as far as Indy just to get down there and drive back home…

dad would be gone for hours…no-one ever asked any questions…house payments were made…bills were paid…that’s all momma cared ’bout…a roof over our heads forever and ever Amen…isn’t that what all mom’s worry ’bout…safe and secure…not happy or thrilled with life…just safe…

the old man pulled in ’round midnight when the sky was black and the moon lay in wait…I could hear him shut the door on the truck and tread through the gravel driveway only to open the door to the kitchen where he’d find a plate of chicken pot-pie…meatloaf…maybe a stuffed pepper next to a note that said, heat up in microwave for two minutes…,he’d eat it cold…

and by mornin’ with the sun was just breakin’ it’s yolk over America that car would be gone…no dirty dishes in the sink…not any evidence that he was ever there…just gone…vanished…’til midnight when I’d hear that old Ford pull into the driveway once again…

didya hear that noise out there…some kinda dog barkin’…

wake you up…

yeah…I was in this dreamlike state and that dog out there woke me up…did the neighbors get a new dog…some kinda big dog like a German Shepard or somethin’…definitely not a small dog…not a yapper…these were full-on barks…and now…nothin’…now that we’re all awake…you don’t hear from him…damn dog…

what were you dreamin’ ’bout…

Burt Lancaster…I was at this movie place with a woman watching Burt Lancaster…it was one of ’em old movie theaters and Burt Lancaster was up on the screen with a woman on the beach…kissing her while the ocean came in…just waves coverin’ ’em and all they kept doin’ was kissin’…he held her tight and I kept thinkin’ I should make my move on the woman I was with…this tall ginger woman with green eyes…so…I put my arm ’round her and she said she wanted popcorn…right when Lancaster is makin’ out with this woman on the beach and I’m gettin’ ready to move in she says she wants popcorn…

so…what’dya do…

at first I got angry…angry at her and angry at Burt Lancaster…

why were ya angry at Burt Lancaster…

’cause he gave me hope and then it was taken away…I had high hopes that I was gonna kiss this woman and it was all ’cause Lancaster was gettin’ kissed on the screen…and there were all these couples ’round us kissin’…all these young people just makin’ out at the movie theater…while waves crashed over Lancaster and this woman he was havin’ an affair with in the movie…

Deborah Kerr…

yeah…Deborah Kerr…that was the woman on the beach with Lancaster…they were just rollin’ in the waves and it seemed like they couldn’t stop…couldn’t get ‘nough of each other…like they was meant for each other forever…

so…did you go and get her popcorn…or did you try to kiss her again…

I was leanin’ in to kiss her and the damn dog woke me up…I was right there at her lips and I could smell her perfume…I put my arm ’round her and that damn dog started barkin’…immediately everything went blank…Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr disappeared…I woke up to reality…to the fact that there is no ginger woman in my life…I wasn’t in the movie theater with a beautiful woman…I was alone…just simply alone…and I felt really sad all the sudden…like there was no hope in this world…I was never gonna be on some beach like Burt Lancaster with some woman that I loved…never…

few get that…

yeah…few do…the lucky ones…the ones that played their cards right…oh well…it was just a dream…

how old are ya…

pretty old…

what…70….75…

old ‘nough…

ya got any regrets…

nope…

not a one…

lived my life pretty simple…stayed outta trouble…I’ve managed to get by…don’t have much…but…I’ve managed to get by…

look at where you live…an old trailer park…what’dya do for a livin’…

this and that…worked a lot of different jobs…mowin’ yards…roofin’ houses…dumpin’ trash…anything to pay the rent…

didn’t ya want anymore outta life…

like what…

travel…family…a good woman…

had all those…

ya did…

did…gave ’em up too…

for what…

poetry…words…lines connectin’ lines…I wanted a life of nothin’ but books and a typewriter…just read and write all day and into the night…

ever get any money for it…

it’s always ’bout money with you now isn’t it…how much did you make…how much could you make…didya make ‘nough…you don’t write poetry to get rich…you wanna make money…sell insurance…

got enough to live on…

I get by…I get by…

you goin’ out to the fair…

nope…

what’s wrong…

just don’t feel like goin’…

why’s that…

you ask a lot of questions…just full of curiosity aren’t ya…like some kid askin’ his dad this and that…always wantin’ somethin’…now it’s that damn fair…what…ya wanna ride the Ferris wheel…a horse on the carousel…twirl on the tilta-whirl…

just askin’…

well don’t…been years since I’ve gone to that fiasco…used to take my girl to it…years ago…I’d win her prizes…she’d give me kisses…walk ’round with a big ol stuffed teddy bear…clutchin’ it like there’s no tomorrow…

how’d ya win it…

shootin’ at these plastic ducks swimmin’ on a conveyer belt…and they had this silly music they’d play as the ducks went by…some kinda pipe organ music…hit one and bells and whistles went off…she’d get all excited…

play any other games…

toss the ball in a bottle…little golf size balls you’d throw in these empty milk bottles…there’s a skill involved…I’d win her a prize there too…bunch of helium balloons…with hearts and arrows on ’em…

you don’t wanna go…

naw…you go…I’m just gonna stay here and think ’bout things…

like what…

the way things used to be…just the way things used to be…

he’d sit at the bus stop for hours…wavin’ busses on by….just liked sittin’ on the bench…smokin’ his Camels…drinkin’ from a brown paper bag…40 oz. …Skoal vodka…cheap brandy…

and he’d talk to himself…carry on full conversations…’bout God…the second coming of Christ…the shape of the woman’s ass ‘cross the street…

people’d pass him by…scared to talk to the 300 pound brother whose eyes were constantly red…had odors comin’ off of him…yelled out at cop cars as they cruised by…he was a popular fella with the boys in blue…

‘ventually he’d lay down on the bench and fall asleep…darkness would come…the stars would shine…he’d shiver in the night air…dreams ran through his head…dreams ’bout a woman he knew long ago…on this very street…eyes were shut…

’round midnight an older lady…with silver hair from down the block would walk by to check on him…bringin’ coffee and sandwiches…maybe a blanket if he needed one…wouldn’t wake him…just left it all under the bench…filled stockings…every night was Christmas eve…

but…he never did see her…never met her…she delivered the goods in silence…under a streetlight that shined down on her wrinkled skin…

God bless you Miss Rosencrantz….

she spoke of love…a deep kinda love…said she had it once in her life…some man who brought her flowers everyday…Sunday kisses on the forehead…she spoke of love…

and she wept for months…years…when it was gone…when he’d left…walked out the door one night…a ghost whispered goodbye…she spoke of love…

Never bothered changing the sheets he slept on…,she said…,wanted to smell him everyday…I miss that smell…,she cried…,I miss that man…,poured another drink…lit another cigarette…,Long to hear his morning cough…the sound that woke me each morn…,she spoke of love…

People leave us…,he told her…,Life changes on a dime…,she shook her head…,Oh…but it does,he said…,it does…,she just looked at him…said nothing…no-longer spoke of love…