dmseay

small black man brags about his apartment in Manhattan, his singing ability, his intelligence, his sexual prowess; a lot of his, too much is his; the rest of us are doomed.

a patient’s word is never good enough. you tell the nurse your pants are too big and she asks to see the tags.

a guy’s missing an arm and a leg; thanks Jesus he’s not paralyzed.

thinking about the small church on Bleecker Street; claiming to be Christian, conservative. the words Christian and conservative are two world’s apart; after all, Jesus was a socialist; just ask the baker.

and we traveled by night ‘cross Kansas….into Missouri…watchin’ skies light up…fire works ‘bove cornfields…highways illuminated by red and purple and brilliant orange…
streamin’ from the heavens while talk radio took calls ’bout foreigners…freedoms…fidelity…and what it means to be a Christian in America today…talk and more talk with loud pops goin’ off like guns in the Civil War…just a constant barrage of bottle rockets blowin’ up makin’ kids in the back seat smile while dad drove and mom slept with her head ‘gainst the window…

no one said anything…radio did all the talkin’…more callers callin’ in with words of importance ’bout politics and pundits…the outrageousness of Hollywood…crimes and misdemeanors in a country divided…mom began to snore…

fireworks kept goin’ off…colors blazed throughout the night…from Kansas to Missouri and on into Arkansas where the smell of alfalfa came through the air vents…a skunk scurried ‘cross the road…

and the radio was turned off…just silence as dad drove and the old Chevy rolled down highways and back roads to a place we called home…

home…it was good to be home…

this old Dodge was parked out in the alley with its lights on…middle of the night…all you could see was an outline of a man behind the wheel…lookin’ at some kinda map or big piece of paper…kept turnin’ it every which way…seein’ if there was some angle he was missin’…if there was another way to approach the road ahead…guess that’s what he was doin’…can’t say for sure…

then this person…a head popped up from behind the seat…think it was a woman…tossed her hair ’round…shook her head to both sides…looked like she was tellin’ him somethin’…maybe ’bout which way to the highway…or the best back road to take…he was gettin’ an earful…

and fireworks were bein’ set off from down the street…kids out on a Friday night firin’ off bottle rockets…cherry bombs…cracks and pops like gun fire…hard to tell the difference…loudness followed by dead silence…no street lights…nothin’…just headlights from that old Dodge…

looked up and the car was movin’ down the alley and out into the street…guess they’d decided where they were goin’…out East or maybe down South where it’s warm in winter…perhaps they were just lookin’ for a Wal-Mart…some place to park the car for the night that was safe…get some sleep…start their journey tomorrow…

another car pulled into the alley…an old Chevy with a muffler dragin’…turned off the motor…nobody got out…

he used to walk into the Greyhound station everyday to get an orange soda…people seated in chairs…on the ground…some with duffel bags and suitcases while others were just leavin’ town with nothin’ but the clothes on their backs…he’d see old men smokin’ cigarettes and watchin’ the boards…waitin’ for their bus numbers to come up on the screen…far destinations a long…long way from here…goin’ to places like New York…Los Angeles…Pittsburgh…Phoenix…some visiting relatives while others were just movin’ on in life…settin’ up in some other town like in West Virginia or some place down South…Tennessee…Arkansas…a handful of Mexicans goin’ down to Dallas…try their luck down there after migratin’ from state to state…workin’ on farms and in factories for little pay…more than they got in their home country…mailin’ money to wives and aunts and uncles and grandmothers…sisters and brothers…stockin’ cash away to buy ranches and small farms…the American dream realized…for some…for some…

and he’d spend hours in that bus terminal…watchin’ people eat fried chicken and hot dogs…drink coffee while bums sought out a buck or two from weary travelers and crazies picked up butts…stashin’ ’em in worn out sport coats…pockets full of debris…half eaten bags of Fritos they’d picked out of the garbage…beer cans wrapped in brown paper bags…plastic bottles strewn the streets…

all night long he’d watch people…keepin’ his mouth shut when men would yell at women…hustlers would hustle…and pimps would be on the prowl…just sit back and watch…look at families huggin’ each other as they got off the busses…dad’s kissin’ daughters home from college…an Army grunt settin’ foot back in his home town after seein’ parts of the world he’d never talk ’bout…actions committed he’d never forget…

he’d watch people with tickets in their hands…leavin’ town…never to come back…slappin’ the road like it was an old friend on the back and thankin’ him for bein’ there…and like all the rest of ’em…he was wantin’ to leave as well…go off and explore…leave mom and dad behind…live off Pop Tarts and orange soda…never followin’ rules…never doin’ anything he didn’t have to do…pickin’ up odd jobs and driftin’ ‘cross country for the rest of his life…

wantin’ to go…he was wantin’ to go…

there were times when she thought of leaving…just throwing some things in a bag and heading out into night not knowing where she was going…or where she would stay…just leave…open the door and keep walking through fields of tall weeds that lead out to the highway….on back roads that wind through Ohio and West Virginia surrounded by lilies in Spring time and cool rains in the Fall…

she wanted to go…leave behind a man she loved…a man she placed trust in so many years ago…before kids came and skinned their knees at Summer baseball games…and after hearts were broken in back seats on Friday nights in Winter with snow falling and breaths being seen…during days with questions about a dad who seldom showed for dinner or prayers on Sunday morn…

and once a woman makes up her mind she does not waiver…she would stay until all was complete…a contract sealed with a kiss would be honored…through his wild escapades and drunken tomfoolery she would stay…something ’bout completing a task…

but man she wanted to go…see what lives were like in other lands…smell salty air and taste new flavors…strip naked and jump in a pond…a baptismal…off with the old and now onto the new…

however…she would stay…she would stay…

he’d look out at darkness…chair by a window just watchin’ red tail lights pass by ever so often…made out houses ‘cross the alley…trees…abandoned cars… moonlight shone down on God’s creation…

and tomcats would hiss and moan…a pitbull chained to a post barked madly…crazed kids settin’ off fire works in June…makin’ it impossible to sleep…wasted hours…

so he’d just sit there…lookin’…listenin’…waitin’ on the clock to strike again…wantin’ to see the sun come out of this purple sky…promise of another day…waitin’…just waitin’…

train whistle wailed…a booming bass from an SUV…newspaper trucks droppin’ off bundles…cop cars ’round the corner…an all-night gas station’s neon blinks…and no-one else is awake to witness the early mornin’ parade…or are they…

He kept havin’ this dream every night…crazy dream…confusing…wake up in a cold sweat and then go back to bed…lyin’ next to his girlfriend who’d rub his back and tell him everything was o.k. …she’d kiss his forehead and hold him till they both fell back asleep…then the dream would come again…

In his dream he’d be at a fillin’ station out on Highway 30 headin’ east to the Ohio line where cornfields were startin’ to get knee high and the smell of alfalfa took over the air…it’d be daylight…plain to the eye…sun was out and not a cloud to be seen…sky was perfectly blue…this dream he had….

So…he held the gas nozzel in his hand…standin’ next to his old Ford pickup truck…rust at the hinges on the back gate…eaten away holes in the bed covered by straw and hay…he’d open the gas tank…unscrewin’ the silver cap…and then go to place the pump in the hole…but he never quite made it…not even close…

The man started sprayin’ the place down with gasoline…he sprayed it on the ground…on the truck…in the trash can…towards the buildin’…as far as he could stretch it he’d spray it till there was gasoline every where…a whole space soaked in gasoline…

And he’d realize how dangerous this was…someone could light a match…throw out a burnin’ cigarette butt…he held the hose and felt ashamed of his actions…fuel all over the place…and him just standin’ there while everybody ran for cover…ran from the man with the plan…

But…there was no plan…just confusion…just a scared sense of bein’…maybe he was ‘fraid of livin’ and never bein’ able to complete a task…perhaps he wanted to secretely put a fire to all that he came into contact with…or maybe…maybe it was just a crazy dream…

Somethin’ wrong with you…,she said…,you ain’t right…look like ya been out on a drunk ‘gain…you listenin’…,she filled up a pot of water for coffee…

Where’d you go last night…you were gone all night long…sleep all day…drink all night…,she opened the refrigerator to pull out some bacon…,don’t you want to better yourself…,he put his head down on the cold metal table…

How many eggs you want…two…three…,he held up three fingers…,scrambled…sunny side…I’ll just scramble ’em…,she put butter in a pan…,think you ever gonna work ‘gain…the 7-11’s hirin’….all work is noble ya know…

She plated the eggs and bacon…lifted his head which fell back down onto the table…she began eating off his plate…,what kinda man are you…never seen anything like it…go on now…go on back to bed…,she kicked at his leg…,never mind…just never mind…

Spend these mornin’s talkin’ to myself…what a strange existence…,gave the dog a piece of bacon…, just strange…

he was awakened by two sceamin’ drunks down in the alley…man and a woman yellin’ in Appalachian accents…she cried out…,Let me stay…I’ll be good this time…I’ll be good…, him tellin’ her to go on home…just get on home…

she yelled and kicked and screamed…carried on in a fit…the man just kept gettin’ angrier and angrier…had a forty ounce in his greasy hand held at the neck…threatened to use it if she kept it up…her cries turned into a whimper…

and he thought ’bout callin’ the police…have the boys in blue take care of it…he thought ’bout yellin’ down at ’em to stop…he thought ’bout a lotta things…

like when he used to get drunk back in the day…punchin’ holes in motel walls…tellin’ his old lady to get lost…yellin’ at ghosts in the middle of the night…

thought ’bout the mornin’s after…the shakes…dt’s…dry heaves…not havin’ ‘nough money to get a meal…his woman leavin’ him…days when he wandered ’round in the streets beggin’ for dollars…leathery red skin… bag of bones…

‘ventually the two stopped screamin’…they walked away down the alley…arm in arm…the battle was over for the night…no-one won…they still had each other…

he caught her on the right night…two fools kissin’ in the rain…birds chirpin’…not singin’…chirpin’…like hungry babies beggin’ for food…the wanting to be fed…

and they made out under a red neon sign sayin’…Budweiser…Budweiser…Budweiser…it flashed on and off along with the other signs up and down Broadway…coffee shops…all nite diners…ATM machines…a strip joint…

she ran her hands through his thick hair…cars drove by…Fords…Chevys…a Dodge pick-up on it’s last leg…couple of semis…a kid on a bicycle…

they couldn’t keep their eyes off of each other…holdin’ each other…while drunks walked past…fists wailed…stragglers tryin’ to take steps towards home…some kinda sleepin’ bag under a bridge…

he told her he loved her…that’s when the trouble started…and hookers made offers to johns and Gentiles…wives waited up past midnight’s blue…with dawn on the horizon…

she kissed him a final time…walked away…,I’ll call ya…,he yelled…she never turned ’round…just kept walkin’…some folks ain’t ready for love…